There's no place like Hell for the holidays

Here are a few reasons why I have earned my one way, all-inclusive package deal to hell this holiday season.

I've redefined the true meaning of Christmas - A certain unnamed subscriber to this blog writes:

"Well, I am just about done with the shopping, and I am already over $1,000 in. I really hate this season... that money could have gotten me the guitar I wanted and the amp to go with it."

Some people might view this statement in a somewhat selfish light. Yes, I've devoted my hard earned cash to my loved ones, but what about ME? Then I got to thinking that we're always told that Jesus is the reason for the season. And really, what could be more Christ-like than the statement above? Jesus is always frontin' like, "Worship ME!" "Follow ME!" "*I'M* God's gift." "*I'M* the reason for the season." "It's MY birthday and YOU should be celebrating it." Yeah sure, Christ was a giver of light and all that shit, but when you think of it, it takes one hell of an ego to expect people to worship you for 2000 years. That in itself is a whole other point. We even measure our time based in when this guy was born. Talk about it being all about him. Does he really need me to be in church? I mean, the core concept of time itself is devoted to him.

Did I mention you're all going to hell with me just for reading this?

You all should just eat my balls - It has been well established that my skills in the kitchen are not quite that of Donna Reed's. Oh hell, they're really not even that of Donna Martin's and I'm fairly certain that rich bitch had a cook. But one thing that I am fairly confident in is my ability to make a holiday treat called Oreo Balls. For those of you not in the know, here is the recipe (a holiday gift for my supportive readers):

One package Double Stuff Oreos
One block cream cheese (8 oz), softened
One package chocolate melting chips (or 1 and 1/2 cups of dipping chocolate)
1/4 cup colored chips to decorate (white chips with a drop or two of food coloring work, too...just be careful not to add too much coloring or the chocolate gets too gummy)

Crush the Oreos until they are finely ground (the easiest way is with a food processor). Add cream cheese and process until well blended (it should have the consistency of paste). Roll into balls. Place on a cookie sheet lined with wax paper and refrigerate for one hour. Melt chips on stove or in microwave according to package directions. Using a spoon, roll ball in melted chocolate and return to cookie sheet. Melt the colored chips and drizzle over the balls for decoration. When you have finished dipping and decorating all the balls, refrigerate again until chocolate hardens. Store in an airtight container in the fridge.

I love making these (although, I hate cleaning up the mess created on the breakfast bar when I'm finished). They're extremely rich, possibly the one thing on the planet that is too rich for me. I usually put them in Gladware and take them to the offices that I visit throughout the month of December.

But here is my secret: I only do this because I get a sick satisfaction in being able to tell my coworkers, "Please! Eat my balls!" Lord knows I want to say this to people on a daily basis. This is the one time of year that I can get away with it and they think I'm playing nice.

December 21st is now a holiday all of its own - Based on the fact that about 90% of the people that I spoke with today were total fucking assholes, I declared December 21st "Dickmas." From the jerk off customer who has decided that I should not be calling him about the large sum of cash he has owed me for the last five months to the douchebag who believes that the fact that we're about to sue him somehow excludes him from paying the interest that has accrued on his account since August, people have just been total tools. From the dickwads in traffic by the shopping areas to the unappreciative twat waffles that were insensitive and thoughtless (just trust me...it would be a whole other blog in itself) so close to the holidays, I just had enough of people.

And speaking of annoying people, where the fuck do they all crawl out of at holiday time? Where do they all come from? I'm fairly certain this is the only time they ever leave their houses because they don't know how to drive, don't know how to be polite and they certainly don't know how to control their kids (yeah yeah, I know, "Wait until your demon seed rears its ugly head." You know me. My children will be afraid to speak until they are at least 21. I'm a scary bitch to most adults. Even sorority sisters think I'm mean. And if my menacing looks and disgruntled disposition do not scare a child into submission, there is always duct tape and leashes...possibly left over from their conception ).

This leads me to an unintended reason for going to hell.

I totally snark on your children behind your back - Nothing is more entertaining during the holiday season than the Christmas cards I receive with family pictures. Although some children are extremely adorable, there are certain ones who are well, not so much. A certain family from a southern state sends us pictures every year of their inbred looking children and I swear they look like engagement portraits. Other people have babies that are so ugly that I question if they threw out the wrong end of the cord. I'm certainly not referring to any of my friends on Myspace or any other frequent viewers of this blog. My Myspace friends only have attractive children.

Not only am I going to hell, but if my future children ever come into existence, they will be "breathtaking." I fully recognize that Karma is a bitch and you will be more than welcome to tell me if my baby is ugly. I will probably deserve it.

All I want for Christmas is a stocking full of Xanax - There are about a zillion self help books out there that will tell you that anger and hostility are just some manifestation of sadness. Now that I'm finished offending all of you, I will admit this is true. (Incidentally, self help books make for lousy Christmas presents. This should go without saying, but a coworker of mine just received one from her boss).

For those of you who don't know, my best friend died in a car accident on Christmas Eve in 2001 at the age of 26. The season is always very bittersweet for me because she loved Christmas so much. And at any minute from November 26th (her birthday) until December 24th, I could have a horrid breakdown and cry at the smallest thing (like a goofy fiber optic Christmas tree, for example...she didn't have room in the apartment for a real tree, so she bought this trippy tacky thing that changed colors and put it on the kitchen table...we would stare at if for like, minutes. ). I keep busy to distract myself. I go to parties. I surround myself with friends. I work like crazy. I get silly drunk and sleep on total strangers couches in weird towns. But at some point every year I find myself slumped over and sobbing uncontrollably.

I know some people reading this care about me to the point where they will want to stop me from doing that. Please don't. I want my time. Just let me have it. Let me be. Don't even acknowledge it. I didn't cry very much when it happened because I was in such shock. And all I could think about at the time was how my plan was to blow her off on Christmas Eve. This was because we were going to exchange gifts that night and hers had not come in as I had won it in an Ebay auction that did not end in time for the shipment to arrive before Christmas (It was an out of print CD that she had been looking for for years. I mean, we even searched for this thing in other countries and couldn't find it. It figures I'd finally find it and she'd never be able to enjoy it). Now I'm ok with just taking the time to be sad for a little while. I will bounce back. It's all good. I think this is how she would have wanted it. She was never much for other peoples' problems. She'd usually just tell them, "Cope," when they'd whine and ramble. But she'd also be pretty pissed if I wasn't at least a little sad. I'll always miss her and will never forget what a good friend she was to me. Rest in peace, my friend.

Love and appreciate those who surround you (except for the asshole strangers that cut you off in traffic or waste your time in store lines when they ask for price checks...fuck those people). And take the time to let them know how you feel about them this holiday season. You may not always have the opportunity to do so.

Merry Christmas/Festivus/Kwanza/Insert whateverthefuckyoupoliticallycorrecthippydipshitscelebratethistimeofyear!

Eat my balls!

My Weekend or Lesson Learned: Never Touch a Pussy Unless You Know Where It Has Been

The weekend started out swimmingly.

Paul and I met with Nicole and one of her friends for a quick dinner and drinks at Malibooz before the Dropkick Murphys show. Although they did not have the bite sized pierogies in old bay seasoning, the crab fries and pints of Magic Hat Circus Boy were fantastic.

We headed to the Silo, a nearby club, which was already packed. We paced around the upstairs before heading back downstairs and settling on a spot near the soundboard. There were two opening bands, whose names now escape me. One was of the typical punk variety. The other was reggae. Nicole and I had a discussion on the intermingling of punk and reggae between acts. Then the Dropkick Murphys came on.

They rocked. It was very hot. Sometime around their rendition of "No Nay Never" we moved back by the merchandise table. I bought a shirt from an angry guy working the table (Free advice, dude: If you hate your job that fucking much, quit!) and ended up exchanging it twice because the size never seemed right. I was obsessing and fixing during this whole thing and wasn't able to fully enjoy "Kiss Me I'm Shitfaced," most of the reason why I was there to begin with.

I remained fairly sober that night. The next day, I was to meet up with my sisters and my brother in law for a hot air balloon ride. I was afraid of getting sick, so I took it easy. So, in a turn of events, Paul got very drunk for a change.

We got home. The shirt didn't fit. I went to bed angry.

Three hours later, I woke up to get ready for the balloon ride. My stomach was a little queasy, but I was really excited about the ride. I pushed through. I grabbed a granola bar and a bottle of water and headed out the door. I rocked out to some excellent songs on the radio (Who knew that the radio was that good at 4:30 am? The last time I listened to the radio at that hour was when Steve What's His Face worked at the Pottsville station and played something like 26 or 27 U2 songs during his four hour shift). I was in good spirits.

I followed my sister's vague instructions on where to meet on LCCC's campus, but couldn't figure out exactly where I was supposed to go because I was the first one there. I drove around until I found my sister and followed her, to where we were supposed to meet, dodging herds of deer on LCCC's campus, talking to maintenance men. Finally, we sat and waited, figuring that we could just let the balloon people find us. My sisters joked (ok, maybe not, but I'm going to tell myself they were joking) about being afraid of being with me up in the balloon. After telling us stories of how she traumatized her daughter, Lori convinced me to put my medical card in my pocket, just in case.

The balloon people showed up, set up and we all jammed in. We were hoping for a sunrise sail, but due to clouds, this was not as striking as it could have been. However, the clouds made it no less beautiful and being up in the air over 15,000 feet was breathtaking.

We came down lower and cruised over trees and houses. Bart, our pilot from Air Escapes Ballooning warned us to watch what we say because the balloon serves as a gigantic amphitheater and the people on the ground would be able to hear us. As we flew above a dumpy looking house, a lady with curlers in her hair came out and snapped our picture. "What a beautiful sight!" she yelled to us.

"Wish we could say the same," Bart said. So much for watching your mouth. Overall, Bart and the rest of the staff, including his wife Toni were extremely nice and funny. They really made the trip extremely enjoyable.

My sister Lori looked down at the outside of the basket and mentioned that it looked a like it had a few rough spots. This was not the time or place to bring this up. We landed and hand to help drag the balloon down. Lori just followed along. "I didn't pay to do manual labor," she said later. That's our girl.

As they packed up the balloon, Toni set up a table and gave Karen a cake for her birthday. She brought out a cooler with a bottle of champagne and realized that she didn't bring any orange juice. My sisters and I convinced her that that was quite all right and mimosas were for sissies. We drank the champagne straight up with our cake at the ripe ol' hour of seven AM.

As the chase vehicle drove us back to the take off site, we joked about cats, Chinese food and astrology. I had a nice, warm fuzzy feeling. I would highly recommend ballooning with this company to anyone who is interested. This was one of the best days ever and it wasn't even eight AM.

Or so I thought.

We said our good-byes to the nice ballooning people. As I exited the campus and turned onto the highway, I saw a kitten in the middle of the road, limping on only two or three of its legs. I stopped in the middle of the road, clearly unable to move. It was at this moment that I decided to have a conscience. I couldn't just let the poor thing get hit by a car. My vet wasn't too far away. I thought maybe I could get it into the car and take it to them.

I pulled my car over and approached the kitten. At first it tried to run, but made it only to the other side of the road. I watched in horror as it was almost hit by a bus. When the road was clear, I went to it again and picked it up. It bit me, hard. I screamed "Fucking thing!" and dropped it. It ran a little more. I was bleeding and started to freak a little. I ran to my car and rinsed my hand with my water bottle.

I called Paul and asked him to call the doctor. They couldn't take me and suggested I visit the ER. As I pulled off, I could still see traffic trying to avoid the kitten, which was now going into convulsions in the middle of the road.

I actually debated going to the emergency room while I stopped off and picked up breakfast for Paul. Was it really worth the pain in the ass? They'd probably have to treat me for rabies and really what are the odds that the cat had rabies? Paul read the symptoms of rabies to me: Irritability (how would we know?), fever, blindness, coma, death. I guess it was a pretty big risk. So I sought wise advice from my dad. He freaked, especially because of the kitten's convulsions and told me to go to the hospital right away. My sister Karen also called after speaking with him and suggested going to my doctor. They'd probably just prescribe and antibiotic. No big deal.

Of course, I was already driving to the ER by the time she said that. I wandered in, told everyone how ridiculous I felt being there for a silly cat bite, but was assured that I was better safe than sorry. I checked in, answered a bunch of questions and sat in a hospital room for about an hour watching E! News when the nurse practitioner told me that they would be giving me rabies shots. Great. And since my last tetanus shot was in 1994, I better get one of those, too. Extra great.

What he didn't mention was that the rabies series would consist of four shots in the ass. Owie! I started bleeding after one of them. The nurse cleaned my blood off the floor using a Clorox wipe and no rubber gloves. Then I had one in the arm in addition to the tetanus shot. I was told that my arm would be sore from the tetanus shot, but nothing felt worse than my ass. I couldn't sit. I ended up sleeping for most of the weekend. All other plans were cancelled.

And I will have to go back for four additional shots in the arm. One of which is tomorrow. I better get to bed. This sucks

TAGGED!!

Here are the rules:

Post eight random facts about yourself.

At the end of your blog, tag eight friends to do the same. Don't forget to leave messages for them that they've been tagged in the comments sections on their pages.

NO TAG BACKS!!

Facts must be posted in your blog.



1. I remember things from when I was two. On my second birthday, my Nana and Pap Pap gave me a set of play dishes that I threw on the floor. Later, Pap Pap and I played with the dishes and I pretended to make corn. Pap Pap told me it was very good. He died shortly after that. No one told me until I was five when I finally got around to asking where he was.

2. I am insanely obsessed with music. Yet, I don't have an ounce of musical talent. I was forced to take piano lessons from third to twelfth grades and I hated them so much. After nine years of the suffering through, I can barely read the bass clef. And I'm fairly certain that if someone put sheet music in front of me, I'd have no clue what I was looking at.

3. I put too much faith in astrology. And I judge people by their signs. I'm always leery of Aries folks because they have horrid tempers. I'm forgiving of the Taurus friends for being superficial and vain sometimes. I think wide eyed and pure Virgos are cute. And I befriend every Sagittarius that I meet because we hang out well together.

4. If I don't have something to look forward to, I get extremely depressed. I have to always have something exciting (trips, concerts, visits) planned in the not too distant future or I feel like my life is boring.

5. I've been to 49 of the 50 states. I will be going to number 50 (Alaska) in August.

6. I work hard, but sometimes I think it's just better to rely on luck. When I work really hard and don't obtain the desired result, it's heartbreaking. When I "luck out" when something happens, I'm elated. It's a rush. I think that as long as you make the right decisions, think things through and never lose your sense of survival, you can get anywhere or do anything you want. That's not necessarily hard work. It's just having a good head about things.

7. I have an awful fear of snakes. I can't even look at them on television. I get tense. My heart beats faster. I feel a lot of anxiety. They don't have legs. They shouldn't be able to move.

8. I'm what the marketing types refer to as an "experiencer." The other night at dinner, someone asked the question that if you were offered a trip to the moon, would you take it? I quickly answered that I would. The other six people at the table said they wouldn't and looked at me like I was nuts.

We only get one life and at any second it can be taken away. That's why it's important to be doing exactly what you want to be doing at every single moment. Time should never be wasted.



And now, my victims!

1. Paul

2. Gina

3. Jam

4. Chris

5. Nicky

6. Brad

7. Candice

8. Jody



Get posting, bitches!

Waiting On the World to Change...Live Earth 07-07-07

There's a fine line between hypocrisy and irony.

My initial thoughts on a concert to save the world immediately went to the massive amount of waste that a large group of people in one place at one time tend to create - tons of garbage, disgusting bathrooms by the end of the night, not to mention all the fuel consumed to get all of these people in said place at said time.

And don't even get me started on the fact that such an event would take place in New Jersey of all places.

But since I bought a ticket and chose to attend (did you see me on TV? I was the one in the Sonic Youth t-shirt ), I'm going brush aside the thoughts of "hypocrisy" and just say it's a touch ironic. I went for the music. If it just so happened that I learned something in the whole process, no harm, no foul.

Paul and I watched some of the coverage from other countries while we were getting ready to leave for Giants Stadium where the US leg of the show was to be held. We got to the show without incident only to discover that we had been assigned parking areas once we got there. I breathed a sigh of relief that I grabbed the entire ticket envelope rather than just the tickets, as I had considered. We were directed to the "blue" lot, paid our $20 parking fee (ouch!) and made our way to the little booths outside the gates.

On our way to the gate, we were accosted by a hippy dippy chick who first asked, "Hey, have you ever heard of us?" I looked at her quizzically as she handed me a magazine. "We're from [insert name of whacky organization that I can't remember here] and we publish zines and create art and CD's and we inspire and motivate people through art..." she started babbling on in a very rapid but steady pattern. Then I caught her say, "We all live together in house in West Virginia..." and subliminally "JoinMyCultFundMyCultJoinMyCultFundMyCult." I smiled and told her that I'd check out their website...which I've now forgotten. Damn!

As we got closer to the gate, a guy from the World Wildlife Fund handed me a paper fan. I thanked him and told him I looked forward to throwing it on the ground later. Paul scolded me for being a dick. I drank some raspberry flavored organic milk and bought a t-shirt. We took it back to the car. I forgot the fan there. We went back to the gate and waited.

I was surprised that security was somewhat easy to get through. We considered going to the State Fair, which was also going on in the Meadowlands parking lot. The idea was quickly nixed as we were curious as to where our seats were. I must say they were fan-freakin'-tastic, despite being fairly high up. Our section wasn't too far from the stage and the sun was already casting a shadow on us, meaning that we wouldn't burn in the hot sun for the rest of the afternoon.

We went back to a beer stand and got two Smithwicks because drinking is cool. We settled in and sent text messages to get our names on the screen and get other messages throughout the day regarding the schedule and other environment tips.

Kena was the first act. I had no clue who they were, but I quickly figured out they had a song on a Vorizon commercial or something. He sang three songs before the stage rotated for the next artist to come out. Holy efficiency, Batman! They were able to keep that thing moving by setting up for the next act from backstage and then rotating that part out. In between acts, we were treated to clips from shows elsewhere in the world, short films on saving the environment and some speakers among the likes of Jane Goodall (who greeted us with actual monkey noises), Al Gore and Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

KT Tunstall came out next and told us all we should "eat more soil." I'm fairly certain she meant soy, but she definitely said soil. Thanks, KT. It's not like I don't already have a dirty mouth. I looked up and saw a plane flying overhead with a banner that said "Don't Believe Al Gore! Demanddebate.com." Some goofy people came and sat directly in front of us. More on them later.

Taking Back Sunday was next. I always wanted to see them. Although I was disappointed that they didn't play "A Decade Under the Influence," I was delighted to hear "Make Damn Sure" and "What it Feels Like to be a Ghost." We heard that Keith Urban would be next. I'm not all that into country music, so this seemed like a good time to take a walk and use the facilities.

As I finished washing my hands, I heard the crowd go ape shit. I ran out of the rest room and met up with Paul to see what was going on. Leonardo Di Caprio was introducing Al Gore. "No more going to the bathroom until the shitty artist is actually on the stage!" Paul scolded. Al Gore introduced Keith Urban, who sang "Gimme Shelter" with Alicia Keys, a song that had been played in other countries by other artists throughout the day. Beach balls with globe patterns started flying around the crowd, but they quickly disappeared. I'm sure you can find them on ebay today, if you're interested.

Ludacris came out next. To my surprise, the filthy stoners in front of me were big rap fans. They were two guys with ponytails and a girl with a gigantic ass. One of the pony boys was apparently dating the girl, but you'd never know by the way she acted. Her boyfriend seemed like a bit of a stick in the mud anyway. The other guy and the girl danced to Ludacris and rubbed their asses on the poor guy as he sat there in the middle. Throughout the day, I was treated to little parts of their conversations amongst themselves and others seated around them. Some of the gems include:

"This is the best concert I've ever been to!" I mean, it was good, but the best? Eh.

"Robert F. Kennedy Jr! He's the last living Kennedy, you know!" Uh oh. Someone better call Ted and Caroline...

"Why don't you just smoke here? He's doing it," to the girl sitting next to them who disappeared every now and then. She looked horrified at the suggestion.

"Oh look! It's a clip of Genesis! Do you remember them? They had this video in the early 90's that went [sings] 'I can't dance. I can't sing' and the guy did this robot thing..."

*sigh*


That's the only frame of reference you have for Genesis, you moronic twit!??!?!?!?! Not that I'm a big fan or anything, but I would say that's right around the lowest point of the band's history.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Ludacris finished and AFI was next. The only song they do that I know is "Miss Murder," but I really wanted to see them anyway. Their lead singer is quite charismatic. When they played "Miss Murder" the tool with the ponytail in front of me decided to hold a conversation with the water boy regarding how to get a job and totally blocked my view. Thanks, ass!

Fall Out Boy followed. I love Fall Out Boy. Fuck you for laughing. But much like when we saw them on the Honda Civic tour, the sound sucked. Their sound guy needs to be taken out back and beaten. And I refuse to believe they distort anything to make them sound better. Fall Out Boy owns you, fuckers!

Thank God for Akon, because by now I had to pee again and I was getting kind of hungry. They prefaced his time slot with a lovely video about being a vegetarian (even if everyone just chooses one day in the week to not eat meat, we can all make a difference! ) that featured close ups of animals' assholes with shit coming out of them. I'm sorry that I'm not painting a graphic enough picture for you with my explanation. But fuck them and their messages! This just made me angry because they were trying to gross me out. And when I get angry, I crave meat. When said shitty artist took the stage (meaning Akon), we got up and waited in a long line for chicken fingers. I was in the midst of trying to put bbq sauce on my food when I heard them announce Zach Braff. Why were all the cool presenters coming out while I was away from my seat?

Then it was time for John Mayer. Surely, I'm aware of John Mayer, his music and that he's fairly attractive. I was not prepared however to see exactly how hot he was! Holy fuck! And he could play, too! As he did his guitar solos, he made all these faces. "I wonder if he makes those faces when he's having sex," I wondered aloud.

"You'll never know," Paul reminded me. Thanks, killjoy. Maybe he'll leak a porn tape someday. You don't know.

After the oh so hot man was finished playing, Melissa Ethridge came out and played and talked a lot. There was confetti. I hope it was environmentally safe. Most of what Melissa was saying was very political and I'm curious as to how much of it was aired on American TV. Her music and words had me welling up a bit. They showed the lyrics to her song behind her on the screen.

And while we're on the topic, Phillips was a sponsor of the show. This meant that we were treated to the same message all day about how we can consume less energy by changing just four of our light bulbs at home to one of their super enviro friendly light bulbs. They had eight hours to share other tips with us, but chose to only communicate this veiled advertisement. Remember kids, green does not exclude greed.

Melissa Ethridge introduced Al Gore again who came out to tell us about his seven principles or whatever. Alicia Keys was next. She played "If I Ain't Got You" and I remembered how much I love that song. Some British lady sat in the empty seat next to me and sparked up. She started chatting with some guy about her kids and asked if he had ever heard of the Grateful Dead because she had seen Dave Matthews open for them and mentioned that smoking pot was her favorite thing to do. Another lady came up the aisle wearing a tiara and did a little beauty queen wave at some of her friends. That made me giggle a little.

Dave Matthews played and took his usual six minutes between songs, dragging the whole set out. Kelly Clarkson was next. I love her. Fuck you all again for laughing. Everyone was digging the Kelly. There were a bunch of meat head jocks behind us cheering for her to sing "Since U Been Gone!" Kenye West was next. I took another walk and ate a chocolate chip brownie.

You really haven't lived until you see a stadium full of people in New Jersey watch Bon Jovi play. Cameron "When Paris Hilton suffers, we all suffer" Diaz introduced him and the place went nuts. He was ok, I guess. Bon Jovi is pretty touch and go with me. I either love his songs or hate them.

Smashing Pumpkins came out and rocked hard. I think they may have been my favorite act of the day. It was just getting dark. They were loud and angry on "Bullet with Butterfly Wings." I loved every second, until the last song at least. I've never been a big fan of "Today."

Roger Waters came out with no introduction. He just played. He finished with the Wall. I'm not sure that's the best song to be playing at Live Earth, but whatever. I've never really liked Pink Floyd all that much. The flying pig made its round and with an inscription on its side that said "S.O.S. Save Our Sausages."

This left time for about four songs from the Police. The first, I'm guessing, they wrote for the event. It was ok. From there they went into "Roxanne" and "Can't Stand Losing You" wrapping up with the oh so predictable "Message in a Bottle" with John Mayer on guitar and Kenye West doing some annoying rap in the middle. The show finished round about 10:30 and I must say that I'm pretty excited about going to see the Police later this summer.

We made our way out. The kind folks from Pepsi were handing out cans of their tasty beverage for the ride home. I noticed a lot of garbage on the ground left behind by the crowd, although I will say that there were a lot more recycling bins everywhere and people were a little better about it than at a regular concert. I even saw a few people picking bottles up off the ground and throwing them into the recycling bins. I supported my underground economy by buying another t-shirt. It was green and cooler looking than the officially licensed one. We escaped the parking lot quickly and again without incident.

All in all, it was a fun day and a good concert. I don't know if it will necessarily make a world of difference, but at least I enjoyed my day.

The category is: Things That Annoy Me

Morning people - I work in an industry where most people are starting their day at the ripe old hour that I used to stroll in through the door after a good night out. It's hard for me to avoid these people. And I've about had it with their sanctimonious bullshit. They wear the fact that they get up at 4 am like a badge of honor and treat you like you're less successful than they are because of it. "Well, I'm here at 5:30 every morning." Good for you! I'm up at 1 am every night after you have been long asleep. And I'm probably having a better time.

I can't explain it, but there is a certain peace that I find in the world sometime around 3 am. Most people are in bed...early birds and night owls. My misanthropic tendencies are appeased because there is no one around to annoy me. It's very quiet. It's when my creativity comes out. Now if only my job wouldn't get in the way.

Christian Radio Stations - Remember back when you used to be able to find cool local college or public radio on the lower end of the dial? There are a lot of reasons why I can't stand the religious right. Some may be more important, but this is the one that annoys me the most. They've taken up all of the good frequencies with the propaganda. Sometimes it's even worse - this wave of alternative sounding bands that are really big ol' "Yay Jesus!" pep rally songs about being born again or saved or whatever. I'll admit there are a few that I like (Flyleaf, Relient K), but I resent being conned into listening.

I'm not knocking anyone's belief here. I don't mind people being religious and I know part of that sometimes includes rallying people to join them. I'm just disappointed that they've marched on a little piece of something that used to bring me so much joy.

It's difficult to find instructions in English anymore - Granted, we know I've never been one to follow rules and directions anyway, but sometimes they are necessary.

The other day, I decided to make popcorn in my microwave. I had a random bag in my cupboard that I'm guessing was a sample from some sort of presentation that I suffered through in grad school. I didn't have the box, so I looked on the bag for the directions on how long I should keep it in the microwave, what setting, etc. There were no instructions in English. There were, however, instructions in Spanish.

With how sue happy our country is, I wouldn't be surprised if someone burned their flippin' house down while making popcorn and decided to sue Orville Redenbacher because they couldn't read the instructions. I was so annoyed at this that I briefly considered it.

On the bright side, however, I do have a new excuse as to why I don't cook. I'm not bilingual.

The Quizzo guy does not ask nearly enough music questions - I'm just randomly bitching here.

Everyone has lost their edge - I'm tired of having to be politically correct and everyone getting all bent out of shape over little things that make us different. You're not allowed to laugh at anything anymore. I'm not just talking about entertainment and media (another blog for another day...but I will say fuck the corporations who pulled sponsorship on Don Imus...Proctor and Gamble is a bunch pussies...do you really think all black people are just going to stop using soap, toothpaste and toilet paper?). Even amongst friends I feel that a lot of you (ahem, yes, you) can't take a joke.

Look, I'm a PA Dutch, Irish, Slovak chick. I like butter. I drink like a fish and sometimes get a little feisty. I'm all tits and ass. Have at it! It's true. I don't care. If we're all supposed to be unique individuals, why do people get so upset and so uptight about some of the things that make us who we are? And I know this tends to be said a lot, but stereotypes aren't just random categorizations. They come from somewhere. And no one ever seems to get mad at the "Blacks have big penises" "All Asians are smart" stereotypes, do they? Oh no!

No one apologizes anymore - even when they know damn well they are wrong. Stubborn twat waffles!

I think I apologize too much. I think we've all established that we all get our turn to be the jerk off. Sometimes it's me. Sometimes it's you. But at least I own up to being the jerk off when I am the jerk off. I'm pretty sure most of you know deep down when you're being the jerk off, too.

Because of this, I am proposing an Apology Amnesty. If my last conversation with you was a bit heated and some time has passed since we last spoke, I'm going to just assume you are sorry, even if you're really not. It's ok. I know that you know deep down that I'm right and you're wrong. You don't have to tell me. It's ok. All is forgiven.

No one has posted an actual time table of the performances at Live Earth on Saturday - If I get there early only to find out that the opening act is Akon, I'm going to be so fucking pissed.

Some people shouldn't be allowed to play with jukeboxes - Why why why do people insist on playing music that they can hear on the radio for free when patronizing a jukebox?

The other night, I witnessed two hammered bimbos playing the same fucking Nickelback song twice on the jukebox at a bar that a visit frequently. Another regular asked me to do something about it, to play something, but unfortunately, I didn't have any denominations smaller than a $20 and the bartender was not picking up on my requests to change the $20 ("I bought your first round. Why do you need change?" I guess I can't really complain about that. The bar tender also called me the next day to make sure that I made it into work...either that place has really good service or I'm a functioning alcoholic). To humor the other regular, I looked at the jukebox for a few minutes to try to find something else to play.

I mocked some anger, "There's no fucking Al Stewart!" I joked.

"The hell there isn't!" He replied. I guess he didn't get it.

Small talk - Why do we have to make small talk? Some of us really suck at it. I try sometimes, but I only feel like I'm prying. And sometimes, when others do it, I just laugh at their lame attempts once I'm away from them.

Case in point - today I went to the post office. The lady behind the counter started talking about the weather. "Yesterday was gorgeous!" She gushed.

"Yeah, but it rained," I replied. Sorry to be such a downer.

"Oh, but that was much later."

Later?!?! You mean like 8 am?!?!?

Damn morning people...

I got to ride in the back of a police car today

It's been a very long day.

I worked in Philly today. This usually means getting up at a very early hour to beat traffic and be there sometime between 7 and 8 am and then working until 5 pm or so.

I've been trying to figure out the best way to beat traffic on the way home. For the last three years, I would typically go to class after work. By the time class was over, the traffic was not nearly as bad as it is between the hours of 5 and 6 pm.

Tonight, I tried the turnpike. And while I didn't really find myself in too many bad jams (save for the congestion actually getting on the turnpike), I found myself taking forever getting home. Not even driving and a mild rate of 80ish mph helped.

By the time I got off the turnpike and I-176 (which, I'm not really sure how it qualifies to be an interstate. As far as I know, it's only in PA) and into the Reading area, I was already bitchy about not being home yet.

As I pondered what way I would try next time I worked in the city, I got into the passing lane to pass a truck. Unfortunately, in a blind spot created by said truck, there was some sort of large metal object in the middle of the road. I didn't have enough time to avoid it and hit it. I immediately knew at least one of my tires would be done. I drove for about another half mile and I heard the unmistakable noise of my tire flattening. The car wavered a bit, so I pulled off immediately.

Unfortunately, there was no good place to pull off with barely a shoulder to the road. I waited for traffic to stop a little, quickly got out, checked it, kicked it and got back in. That's about when I went into the shock.

I had no clue where I was.

Granted, I drive on this road several times per month. I should have known. But it's so automatic for me to go anymore, that I wasn't sure exactly which road I was on or which exit I had just passed. There wasn't a mile marker in sight. Ahead, I could see an exit sign, so I was able to roughly figure it out. But I had no idea if I was going east or west. I frantically tried to call Paul to see if he'd be able to tell me, but I couldn't reach him in the office, on his cell or at home. I freaked.

I called AAA and explained the situation, that I was afraid to even open my door and there was no way in hell anyone would be able to actually change the tire where the car was. They said they'd send someone and suggested that I call 911.

Now, before you lecture me on why I should have called 911 first, let me tell you that the last time something like that happened I got totally screwed by the tow truck driver that the police called. I wasn't about to go through that again. I've had some really bad luck with weird tow truck drivers. But that's another blog for another day.

911 dispatchers are total power tripping assholes. I feel comfortable saying this as I've known many over the years. The one I spoke with tonight was no exception. As most of you know, I speak very quickly. I'm sure she mistook it for panic and interrupted me with a "Ma'am? MAAAAA'AM?!?!?!" to ask a question rather than listening to what I was telling her. It came as no surprise to me when someone from the police station had to call back and ask for my location again.

I waited and watched the traffic come way too close too quickly to my car. I finally reached Paul and freaked. Bad. I was so bothered that I neglected to answer the phone when he tried to call me back after I hung up screaming and freaking. See how you fucking like it, Bub!

But Goddamn if they didn't send me a hot looking cop!

By this point, I had crawled over to the passenger side of the car as I was afraid of getting sideswiped by cars going 75 mph while I sat in the driver's seat. Officer McHotStuff (and you know I'm not exaggerating because the whole uniform thing typically does nothing for me...especially when it comes to the fuzz) looked at me and said, "I think I'm going to get you out of there because if someone runs into me and then hits you, we're both going for a wild ride." Ooh yeah! A wild ride with Officer McHotstuff!

Um...where was I?

Oh yeah. He helped me get out of the car and then called AAA for me again to give them a little push to get to me quicker. They were there within five minutes. The tow truck driver said he'd have to tow me to a safe place and then change the tire. Fine. That's what my AAA is for.

Unfortunately, he had no clue how to turn my car on because of the smart key system. When he asked for the key and I handed him my FOB, he just gave me a look like I was out of my forking mind. I told him to push the power button, but forgot to tell him to push the break while doing it. Oopsy! I take these things for granted.

The tow truck driver had someone else in the truck with him, so he asked Officer McHotStuff to give me a ride to a parking lot just off the next exit. Officer McHotStuff helped me back over the guardrail.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to ride in the back," he told me.

Not a problem. It just made the story more interesting.

We chatted some more about the car. I told him that I didn't mean to cause such a problem, but there was nowhere else for me to really pull over. He told me it wasn't a problem and that it wasn't my fault.

"Well, at least I can tell everyone that I got to ride in the back of a cop car," I joked. Then we laughed about how the tow truck driver was so far away from us that he probably stole me car. Who says cops have no sense of humor?

We went to the lot at a nearby school. This adorable old security guard (think Jimmy Kimmel's Uncle Frank) talked to me about my car. Officer McHotStuff also seemed very curious about it, asking about mpg type stuff. The tow truck drivers were amazed. Everyone was so nice to me and my little car.

Before I knew it, my donut was on and I had waved good-bye to the kind gentlemen who helped me. Paul met up with me so I didn't have to drive the car the whole way home.

Now I'm tired. Like I said, it's been a long day.

The folks at XM radio can lick me where I pee

I haven't really used XM much. I got it primarily for Opie and Anthony and then they started broadcasting on terrestrial radio anyway. My XM receiver didn't really work in my house and I never really bothered to install it in my car. On occasion, I might listen to it on the computer, but really I'd forget that it was even an option for the most part. I haven't really listened to it for months.

So then, XM suspended Opie and Anthony. Buh? It's a subscription service. I paid and subscribed specifically for this. I sent an angry message that I don't want to renew my subscription.

Today, I received a letter from the kind folks at XM stating that they would automatically renew my subscription and charge my credit card in the next few weeks. I hate when companies do this.

I called to cancel and waited for 15 minutes before someone took my call. I explained that I was canceling because I hardly used the service. I also admitted that I really don't support censorship of any kind, especially when I'm paying for the service and that this was my boycott. The woman I spoke with said that she'd connect me to someone who would cancel my service right away. I waited on the phone like a douche for five minutes before I heard a busy signal. The phone was disconnected.

I called back, seething. This time I waited for 20 minutes before someone spoke to me. I explained how angry I was, but stayed calm. I didn't swear (I know, hard to believe), but I did happen to call the operator "Sweetheart."

"I'm really sorry to hear that you're canceling your subscription," the rep said.

"Are you?" I replied dryly. "Will you be up all night worrying about what I plan to listen to without your service? Just connect me to your cancellation department, please."

I waited for a few more minutes only to discover that I had been hung up on a second time!

I called a third time and waited once again. When the third representative answered I immediately asked for a supervisor. I explained what had happened. The supervisor eventually made her way onto the phone. She threw an offer at me for $77 for the year, roughly half the price of a regular annual subscription. I politely declined. I explained that after the service I just received, I had no interest in giving their company any business at all. I said that I hardly used the service and since I specifically subscribed for a program that had been suspended I had no use for them. I don't support censorship.

She told me that it was only temporary. I said I didn't care. She said that the company hadn't suspended them for what was said, rather they asked them not to discuss the issue anymore.

I cut her off. "Asking someone not to say something IS censorship. I have no interest in your politics, ma'am. I just want to cancel my service and be rid of you. Now will you please do it?"

And finally she did. Bleh. I can't believe how ballsy they are. If I don't want to pay for something, I shouldn't have to waste an hour and a half of my life to get out of it and then get an argument after really shitty service. For fuck's sake, just let me go. This whole experience didn't win me over. It just made it worse.

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup

Call VH-1. I'm having the best week ever.

Where to begin? I'll start with last weekend. I went to visit Chicago Paul and Bill in Chicago and see a lacrosse game. I love those guys! Paul and I actually flew out for a change (usually, we just stop in on our way back from whatever bizarre road trip we've conjured up). We flew out of Newark and everything went fairly well.

The first night we were there, we went to a sex shop in a very gay part of Chicago to buy some pasty glue for the girls in The Flaming Dames, an 80's hair band burlesque show that Chicago Paul is stage managing. Then we were off to dinner with Chicago Paul's girlfriend Madi (who is really cute and very cool) and the Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie. We then dropped Madi off and went to Paul's show.

We sat at the bar playing the Megatouch for a while. Then we had a seat. The show was freakin' hysterical. At one point, they picked a name out of a hat for someone to go back stage with the girls. Of course, they picked Paul's name (coincidence? hmmmmm...). After a lot of coaxing, he went backstage. A few minutes later he came out with lipstick all over his face, a bra hanging from his hat and a very frightened look on his face. He sat on a chair on stage while and extremely buxom chick sat on his lap while singing a song. She later got up and smacked what I'm guessing are her JJ sized breasts on his head. I laughed harder than my dad during the dinner scene in the Borat movie. I don't think he wants to admit it, but I think he had fun. If you happen to be in Chicago, you really should check out the show.

The next day we took a ride to Northwestern's campus and had pizza for lunch. We went back to Chicago Paul's apartment and watched Shaun of the Dead because I had never seen it before. After that, the two Pauls and I went to the Wings/Shamrox game (Bill blew us off and didn't go. He sucks. ). The Wings lost ugly, which really pissed me off because that was really the only thing they had to win to make the playoffs. We found some other Wings fans that we knew, Rachel and Sheryl. We all went back to the post-game party, but it was lame and we left shortly after the players arrived.

We went back to Chicago Paul's apartment. Bill came out of hiding. Bill is one of two people that I have ever met who has insomnia that rivals my own. The two of us in a room together at a dark hour created a sick, synergistic effect. We ended up staying up all night swapping stories of love, pain and retail stupidity until the sun was up, the birds were chirping and I had to get ready to catch my flight back home. The flight was delayed a bit due to weather. And when we got to Newark, some roads were flooded. But we thanked our lucky stars that we weren't flying into Philly because we would have never have been allowed to land.

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After catching up on sleep Monday and Tuesday, I worked in Philly on Wednesday. After work, I picked up my cap and gown for graduation and bought a frame for my massive diploma. I then made my way to the Cheesecake Factory and had dinner with Brenda and her husband Matt. This was the first time I met Matt since I was unable to make it to her wedding reception. She is ready to give birth in just a few weeks and is just the cutest little beach ball smuggling thing ever.

Thursday, I found myself in Delaware. I usually hate Delaware, but this trip turned out to be kind of fun. My company has a rather large facility there where I usually set up my laptop in a conference room away from the rest of the branch upstairs. It just so happened that Dan, our regional trainer, was actually in his office upstairs this week and kept me company for most of the day. I get the distinct feeling that Dan is lonely in that office since he is up there by himself and was happy to have someone to talk to all day. Appreciatively, he took me out for lunch. When I got in his truck, I ragged on him that he actually lives in his Dodge Durango. In the truck, he had a bed frame, several pairs of shoes and a stick of deodorant.

*******************************************************

Friday night, I went to a sex toy party. I think if I ever want a little side job, I found my calling as a sales rep (demonstrator?) for home parties. The chick who ran this thing was a riot - very bold and blunt. She sounded like a cross between Beavis and Butthead's health teacher (Remember the episode where they were forbidden to laugh? Then their teacher got in their faces and started saying things like, "Today we're going to be talking about the PENIS! And the VAGINA! And we're going to be spending a lot of time on MASTURBATION!") and that guy on the home shopping channel late at night who peddles Beanie Babies and baseball cards. My favorite quotations yelled throughout the night:

"Ladies! This Coochie Cream is perfect for shaving. Your man can use it too! He can use it on his face or HIS BALLS!!!"

"Ladies! If you're into ANAL SEX and WATER SPORTS - this is the LUBE FOR YOU!!"

"Ladies! You have to pull anal beads out of his ass SLOWLY! Do not tug on them like the chord on your lawn mower!"

"Just remember, Erection Cream is NOT edible! DICKALICIOUS is!!!"

That's right. It was actually someone's job to come up with a product name for Dickalicious. I'm fairly certain that the guy who named Erection Cream was fired. But probably the most amusing product name in the catalog of dildos and dirty things was a packet of four creams called Eat Me Completely.

*******************************************************

Yesterday was Brenda's baby shower. A bunch of my friends from college all came into town. The guys went off to a bar and met up with us after the shower. We played cards and went out to dinner. Then Taco came back to my house and we hung out here and stayed up way too late watching the Facts of Life. I took her back to the bus stop early this morning so she could make it to the Mets game this afternoon. That's why I'm awake. It was well worth it, though. I love when my college friends are in town.

Oooh! And I found an entertaining book, although I only have a few pages left since it's a pretty quick, easy read. It's a stripper's memoir. I love her funny writing style. And she's a Pixies fan. Check it out.

Book suggestions, please!

I went to Barnes and Noble the other day. For the first time ever, I found absolutely nothing interesting. Usually, I'm walking out with three or four books in hand because I can never decide which is most interesting and I'm afraid that I will forget the titles if I wait to buy them later.

So give me something good. What's interesting?

Here is what I'm sick of:

Chick lit - I've read the Devil Wears Prada and a few Jennifer Weiners books. I enjoyed them, but they make me feel like an airhead.

Political and historical stuff - This is the other end of the spectrum. I want to stay entertained and not get depressed over mankind in general.

Beat stuff - I'm just burned out on this genre

Books about or by musicians - I've read too many of them as of late. I need something new.

I hate mysteries, historical pieces, "the classics" that I was supposed to read in high school (I mean really, if I wanted to read them, I would have when I was supposed to. I'm not going to do it now on my free time) and any of your mass marketed Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Jackie Collins, Daniel Steel, X of for Xenophobia type crap.

Don't even mention the Da Vinci Code.

I like:

Weird books - Think Douglas Coupland.

Books about people on drugs - I don't know why, but I'm always fascinated by these.

Underdog/misfit stories

Anything ironic or satirical

A good story that's just hard to classify as anything other than "fiction."

I just want something cool, interesting and different. Suggestions?

If it's just a lull, why am I bored right out of my skull?

At the risk of sounding like that guy who complains that his dick is too big, I feel the need to write about what's bothering me.

Nothingness.

I know this has been hard for some people to understand, but I've been in a bit of a funk as of late. This has nothing to do with anyone else. It's all on me, and I'm not sure what to do about it. People think I lead this charmed life, like I've managed to get everything I've ever wanted. And I suppose this is true. Granted, it's not all wine and roses. Work has been tough lately. I've also come to the realization that I hate living where I live. I mean, I love my house on its little street that projects the surreal image of a Tim Burton film (think Edward Scissorhands). And I can't beat my five minute commute to the office. I'm just not fond of the area where it's located. I don't belong here. I've met some good people and all, but this just doesn't feel like home to me.

All that aside, it's always been my mantra that you can have whatever you want in life, you just have to figure out how to get it and make the right moves and decisions along the way. The problem is, I've hit the wall. I don't know what to aspire to next. I need a new adventure and something to do with my free time.

I've discussed this with a few people. And I've compiled a list of what they've suggested. I'm open to other suggestions as well. Here it is.

1. "Why don't you write that fuckin' book already?"

This is a good one. Unfortunately, I've had some awful writer's block lately. Maybe I need a new desk or a change of atmosphere. But it's been hard to sit here and type anything. I'm not sure where to go after the first paragraph.

2. "You can help me with my Girl Scout troop."

No. Those little bitches are trying to make me fat with their cookies. Now someone please get these Tagalongs out of here before I eat the whole box.

3. "You can do some other sort of volunteer work."

This would require hardcore commitment to something. I just don't have it in me. I could see it turning into another full time job of sorts. I already work at least 50 hours per week. I just don't think I have the energy.

4. "You can start having kids."

Um, hellooooo?!??!? Did you read number three with the commitment and the energy?!?!? Please. Stop. I'm so sick of people saying this to me. I'm not ready. I'm nowhere near ready. I don't know if I'll ever be ready. Please remove what you think is your vested interested in my uterus. This is a funk and will probably pass in a few months. Children, on the other hand, are permanent.

5. "You can have an affair!"

Um, I'm not even sure where to begin with that one...

6. "You can play the triangle in my band."

Ok. This one is a joke.

7. "You can make jokes in your blog that only three other people will get."

I just did! Please see number six.

8. "It's time to start up that Monday night drinking club again."

Hmmmm...it's a possibility. I'm just not so sure it's in my best interest.

9. "Take another trip."

This is also a good one. But I can't help but wonder if that is what put me in my funk to begin with. I was really riding high when I came back from Hawaii. But now that I've been back for almost a month, I've hit a slump. The excitement has worn off and I'm here looking for the next thing to look forward to. There are places that I want to go. The problem is that most of them will require resources like time and money that I may not have enough of to do what I want.

10. "Get some exercise."

No one actually suggested this, at least not to my face. This came from me. I'm looking for a gym right now that has aerobics classes at an hour that I would actually be able to attend. Maybe a little endorphin therapy will help. For now, I will be a slave to the Xbox 360 DDR.

Hmmmm...video games...hadn't considered that one...

Nah.

Put your make up on, fix your hair up pretty and meet me tonight in Atlantic City

When I woke up this morning, the roads seemed completely clear. Sure, there were several inches of snow on the ground, but it seemed as though Penn DOT actually got their asses in gear over night. I had no fear about going to see the Wings play tonight.

However, after driving for an hour and a half to get to the game we learned that the game was postponed until April 13th because the other team couldn't fly in from Minnesota.

"All dressed up with no place to go," I said to Paul. It seemed like a waste of a St. Patrick's Day. I was now in Philly, hours away from my plans B or C. "I feel like we should do something since we're down here."

"Let's go to Atlantic City," he said. And there he was - the spontaneous guy that I married. I thought it was a good idea. Although, I'm barely Irish, I'd be willing to test my luck.

Next thing I knew we were on the AC Expressway, stopping for Starbucks and then parking at Trump. We lost, then won, then won again, lost, lost, lost. Luck of the Irish, my big fat ass! We went from Trump to Wild Wild West and Bally's. I like the decor Wild Wild West, even if it's a little cheesey. I don't even really mind the country music they pipe in there, although was it really necessary for some country artist to remake that fuckin' Himder song. ENOUGH ALREADY!

Walking back to Trump, I saw a black cat on the beach. I started calling him Lucky. I tried calling him to come to me, but he ran under the boardwalk. At least he didn't cross my path, I guess.

And I didn't drink tonight. This is the first St. Patrick's Day that I can remember in years that I was not drunk. See! You all think I'm an alcoholic. Ha!

We stopped at a diner on the way home and then a cop followed us almost to our door. We were the only car on the road and he was just waiting for us to do something stupid. It didn't happen. Then he pulled off to get gas.

So, yeah, that was my night o' spontaneity. It was fun, but I wish I had won something.

Kind Acts of Randomness

New Jersey sucks. I got lost there last week. I made a wrong turn, but convinced myself that it was still right even though I knew deep down it was wrong. I didn't give in for about twenty miles. Then I had to find a place to turn around. Did you know that left turns are illegal pretty much everywhere in New Jersey? So I did a few bizarre maneuvers and probably damn near caused a few accidents just to turn around. Oh well. I guess we all get our turn to be the asshole.

Trying to upload songs to iTunes that were downloaded from other sites is a pain in the ass.

I probably shouldn't admit this, but I'm really digging the bootlegs that Paul has been burning for me from bit torrent. So far, I have two really great Pixies shows and a Grateful Dead show that I used to have on tape. The download is better quality than the tape that I used to have. He had a really cool U2 show, too.

Best advice ever given to me: Don't piss off the psycho.

Yesterday marked the one month anniversary of the gigantic mound of snow that ran off my roof and gathered directly in front of my door. Because there was ice mixed in with this, it was impossible to get rid of and I've been using my garage to get in and out of the house. I kind of like the mound there. I would know if someone was trying to break in because there would be footprints.

I have this coworker that no one likes. But I think he rocks! This is mostly because he bribes me with alcohol.

I hate people who smile when giving bad news. I don't necessarily mean people who smile in a "ha ha neener neener" kind of way (although, they suck, too). I mean the people who smile as if it's going to make the horrific (and usually blunt) blow more bearable. For example - "You have cancer," or "I want to see other people" or "Don't come into work anymore. You're fired." There's no way to make these words more pleasant. So save your fake nicey nice crap for someone who won't feel like kicking you in the teeth.

I can't believe the Platypus Man is dead.

Only 19 more days until Guitar Hero II comes out for the Xbox 360. Woo hoo!

Some really great things have happened since I got back from Hawaii. One of my friends is pregnant. That had a long time coming. Another friend got a new job. That also had a long time coming. And Paul got a raise and a promotion. I'm wondering if it has anything to do with that Tiki God that is in my bedroom Take that luck, Greg Brady!

Enough with the Hinder song already, people! You know who you are.

Why do people dwell on mistakes? Just acknowledge it, learn from it and move away from it as quickly as possible. Sometimes when you pick up the pieces, you end up cutting yourself. Maybe it's better to just step over them.

It sucks when you get sick in the middle of a big meeting.

My friends rule! I don't know what I ever did to deserve such wonderful people in my life, but I know I don't tell them nearly enough. You have all been so good to me lately. I love you all. Muah!

Between the poles and the equator - my trip to Hawaii

Lots of ground to cover here, so I'm going to just jump right into it.

Saturday, February 17th, 2007

As most people who know me would tell you, my social life tends to revolve around professional lacrosse between late December and early May. Knowing that I wanted to take this trip early in the year to escape snow and cold and also possibly save a vacation day by using the Presidents' Day holiday, I booked a flight and a cruise that would leave after a game and wouldn't interfere with any home games since I would have to waste my season tickets.

Unfortunately, the Wings lost. But I didn't care. While everyone else was pissy about the loss at the post game party, I smiled. "I don't care. I'm going to Hawaii tomorrow," I said.

When Paul, my Amazing Race partner in training, and I got back to the airport Sheraton, we found ourselves kicking and jumping on snow in an attempt to shovel a space out a bit for parking for the week. I'm sure this was quite a sight.

Sunday, February 18th, 2007

The flight out was really early. We were to change planes in Dallas. We got to the gate and on board without incident. However, as soon as we were up in the air, I discovered that my iPod would not turn on. This was extremely disappointing considering that I spent hours loading songs with this trip and the eleven hour flight in mind. I bought a charger when I got to Dallas, but it didn't seem to do much good. I resigned to the music offered on the plane, which wasn't awful, I guess and watched Dodge Ball.

Yes, that's right. Dodge Ball. As in, the movie that was out like, two years ago. I'm going to start right now by telling you that American Airlines really blows. And I plan on finishing by telling you how badly. But I'll start with the minor annoyances, the bad amenities. They also charge for food. I think they wanted $3 for one of those cookies that you get at a convenience store for about 50 cents. And they no longer offer Mai Tai's! Oh well, there was more of those to be had later.

We got off the plane and cabbed it to Waikiki. I realized that due to some absent minded and hurried packing on my part, I forgot to pack some essentials. We made our way out to pick up the odds and ends and explore the beach a little. My iPod started charging, which was cool. I was kind of worried there was something wrong with it. We had dinner and Mai Tai's at some bar and grill place that sold Big Kahuna Burgers (think Pulp Fiction) and had them just for the novelty of it. Then we took a long walk to the Hard Rock Cafe to get my sister Lori a t-shirt since she collects the city shirts. I was exhausted, but trekked along anyway. I'm a good sister.

Waikiki Beach is kind of small. See?



After the walk, I drank some sort of juice that consisted of strawberry, guava and passion fruit and completely passed out.

Monday, February 19th, 2007

I had a little bit of a klutzy mishap in the morning that left me bleeding (again, those who know me probably aren't surprised), this caused us to get off on a later start than we had planned. We were heading to tour the Pearl Harbor memorial at the USS Arizona. To further complicate things, the transportation that the hotel called for us was late. This lead to a downward spiral by the time we reached the memorial. Tour buses had arrived and we would have to wait an hour and half for our tour.

The tour consists of a history movie and a boat trip out to the memorial where you can actually see where the ship is still sunk under the water. I got a good seat on the boat going over, to take some pictures. I tried turning on my camera and discovered that the battery was dead. My camera is brand new and I didn't realize that it was a rechargeable battery. Of course, I didn't bother bringing the battery charger with me. So, I didn't get any pictures, unfortunately. I bought a couple post cards so that I'll at least have something for the scrapbook. Other than that, the memorial was an awesome sight. There is a wall with the names of the soldiers who died during the attack. And you can also see oil still coming out of the ship resting on the water. Fascinating.

We were late checking out because of our little time setback, but it ended up being ok. I ran out to get a battery charger and an extra battery. Fortunately, I was paying attention during my walk the day before and remembered seeing a camera shop.

We cabbed our way to our cruise ship, the Pride of Hawaii and stood in incredibly long lines to drop off luggage, go through security and get boarding passes. The joke of the whole thing is that even after you have your boarding pass, they make you stand in line to get some sort of souvenir photo taken with a green screen. This is total bullshit. I'm not buying your fucking photo. Get me on the ship and I'll buy a few drinks. Don't they realize they're bound to make more money that way?

I discussed this with two men from Australia on the way in. I observed during my week that the people on the ship seemed to come from three places overall - Australia, Japan and Texas.

After the bullshit safety drill that they are required to run (you take your life jackets to a large meeting area and wait...yeah, like if that ship goes down like the Titanic, we're all going to be calm and wait), and a really bad dinner at the buffet, we grabbed a few Hawaiian beers.



We went to see the ship's comedian (who sucked) and had a few Mai Tai's at the club. It was then that I realized that this ship was really rocky. I got seasick. And the alcohol didn't help.

Tuesday, February 20th, 2007

Come on, kids. You know I don't get hangovers. But I struggled getting ready for our planned excursion in Hilo. I was really seasick. And since I didn't expect to feel any motion (my last cruise was completely stable), I had no Dramamine with me.

Somehow, I pulled myself together and made it on the bus with my tour guide Cousin Hank.

He took us to Rainbow Falls



Nani Mau Gardens (which means Forever Beautiful)



Volcanoes National Park



Where I walked through a lava tube



And had an altar to some goddess who liked fruit and gin



(Notice the gin is missing )

And a Macadamia Nut Factory which is actually owned by Hershey.

Cousin Hank told us a lot about Hawaiian folklore. But after I heard conflicting stories about whether or not there are reptiles on the islands, I started to wonder if all Hawaiian tour guides are just full of shit. Eh, who cares? At least the stories were entertaining.

Wednesday, February 21st, 2007

I felt better Wednesday morning. We set off to go whale watching. This was probably my favorite part of the trip. We got on this little boat with a really cool crew of guys. They taught us a lot about whales and how to spot them, how often the breach the surface, etc. We anchored out a bit and were actually able to listen to them via some sort of sound devices. We watched two idiots in a kayak in the middle of the ocean try to negotiate their way around the large animals. Towards the end of the excursion, a whale popped out of the water about 25 feet from the boat. Of course, I had put my camera away at that point, figuring that we had seen the last of them. I was actually so stunned that it came so close, I doubt I would have been able to pull off a good shot anyway. Most of the time, when we saw them, it looked like this.


In the afternoon, I hung out on the deck with my iPod and got a bad sunburn. Later that evening, I attended a luau, where I sat with some older people from Chicago and Saskatchewan. The people from Chicago were extremely nice. They told me about when they came to Hawaii as part of a four month honeymoon. I couldn't even begin to fathom what a four month honeymoon would be like. I could only imagine it ending in divorce.

The food was ok, the Mai Tai's were watered down, but the entertainment was decent - male and female hula dancers, fire eaters, Hawaiian music. The luau was at resort in Maui. The sunset was beautiful.



Several buses took us all back to the ship. I happened to end up on a bus with an oldies music purist who spouted a lot of sanctimonious bullshit about how the music of the 50's is far superior to anything else today and that people don't appreciate it. Ok, I have nothing but respect for someone who has passion for music. But just because you prefer something to the oldies, doesn't mean that you can't appreciate what you're hearing. He went on tirades about how musicians don't even have to be on the same continent anymore to record and mix music. I see no problem with this.

But what really got me was that he played "Donna" and encouraged us to yell out the names of famous musicians who died in plane crashes besides Ritchie Valenz, et al. This probably isn't a good topic of conversation for a bunch of mainlanders.

"Stevie Ray Vaughn," I yelled. Oh well. At least if my plane went down, I'd be in good company.

And just when I thought I met the biggest asshole of the night, as I boarded the ship, a crew member handed me a coupon for the photo gallery and told me in a very loud voice that I'd be able to find aloe for my sunburn in the gift shop next door. Thanks, dick.

Thursday, February 22nd, 2007

I laughed when I saw myself in the mirror. My face was burned, except for the lines around my eyes where I left my sunglasses on the day before. I looked like Ace Frehley.

I didn't really do much that day - a little shopping, some juice at Jamaba Juice where the girl behind the counter laughed when I said that this was one of the best vacations I was ever on. I sat on the deck and listened to the house band, despite the horrid sounds of "Stairway to Heaven" and "Mustang Sally." I went to the see the magic show on board and had a late dinner at the Italian restaurant on board.

Friday, February 23rd, 2007

Oh, you're still reading this?

This is the part of the trip where I started to get homesick and sick of cruise ship people in general.

Friday found us in Kona, which was a pretty cool part of Hawaii. Because there was nowhere for the boat to dock, we had to take tender boats to shore.



The plan for the morning was to take a submarine ride. After a run in with what I believe was a drag queen in the ladies' room, I got on yet another boat to go to a 50 passenger submarine that went 100 feet down to a landing at the bottom of the ocean. Everyone was really crammed in, but there was a portal for everyone. I almost got kicked in the face climbing down the ladder to get into it. We didn't really see much down there...coral reef, some fish, some sand. It was ok, I guess. I can say that I did it. And it seems that any sort of adventure in the water in Hawaii involves hot tour guides.



I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the little shops in Kona. I had a pretty good smoothie and bought a t-shirt that was dyed with beer and a little Christmas tree ornament made from a starfish. Security was pretty rough with my bag on the way back on the ship and I worried that they would break it.

The tender boat driver took a bit of a turn and we couldn't figure out why until we saw a bunch of dolphins. We watched them some more during lunch.

That night for dinner, we were treated kind of rudely by a maitre d' (Butch Hammedy...that's right, I got your name, mother fucker) in one of the specialty restaurants who claimed to not have our reservation (in actuality, he was looking at the wrong list...he later apologized, but seemed to still try to make it sound like it was our fault for making our reservation later than when the paper was printed...despite the updated copy at the podium). I'm not usually one to complain (actually, I should have just been satisfied when I told him to blow me), but in the back of my mind I heard the voice of Dr. Alan, my marketing professor telling me to speak up when you get bad service so that the problem can be corrected. So we did, but on the way we ran into the nice people from the luau and I felt really bad complaining after talking to them.

We went to the show that night...a Broadway review featuring the likes of Mama Mia. All of the singers sucked except for one. But when she started singing "Winner Takes it All," I broke into a fit of giggles.

We went to the club after that, but since the ship was moving I was afraid to drink. The band they had was really good. Too bad I didn't have anyone to dance with.

Saturday, February 24th, 2007

We were in Nawhilili, Kauai for the weekend. I slept in Saturday and then went to Marriott Gardens and the beach. I lost my fling flong in the water. Paul got it for me.

We walked around a little and took a shuttle bus to Hilo Hatties where I bought a little sundress. We went back to the ship to get ready for a sunset sail that we had booked, but we learned that it was cancelled due to muddy water.

So we went back out and had drinks and appetizers at Duke's. It was there that I had a really good passion fruit daiquiri. We also had some crab wontons and calamari. We went back to the ship and decided to go see the show for the night.

It seemed like a good idea. It was supposed to be a rock show. It ended up with a Who medley that would leave Pete Townshend thankful for his hearing loss. I took a walk up on the deck and came back and watched The Family Stone. We ordered a late snack from room service that ended up to be this gooey chocolate thing. That was actually pretty good.

Sunday, February 25th, 2007

Since our other excursion was cancelled, we decided to take a bus ride around Kauai to see another waterfall and the land called Hanalei. We also went to a guava plantation where we had the best juice I have ever tasted.

The important thing to know about the island of Kauai is that it is grossly inhabited by the Polynesian Jungle Fowl. They look like this:



We had lunch at the buffet where a happy little Asian guy gleefully yelled, "I'm making PASTA!" to anyone who walked by. Then I stretched out on the deck for a little while in an attempt to even out my tan.

I got seasick again. This time, I wasn't even drinking. I had picked up some Dramamine at one of the shops earlier in the week. I took it and immediately fell asleep.

Later, the boat cruised by the Napali Coast. It was gorgeous.



I went back to the room and packed. Then I went back on deck to try to take in the sunset. I eavesdropped on a man and a woman who were discussing what primitive Hawaiian women did for feminine hygiene products since they did not have cloth like the Europeans did. This somehow lead to a discussion about how everything in the world has a purpose, including sharks and AIDS. I wanted to ask them how they managed to get their pot past security.

We had dinner at one of the nicer dining area on the ship and were treated well, partially because of the screw up from earlier in the week. It sucks that something bad had to happen to get good service. We went back to the room and set our bags out to be taken directly to the airport (I had little faith in the system, but didn't want to lug all my shit around the next day). I was sad to go, but homesick all at the same time. It was very bittersweet.

Monday, February 26th, 2007

I didn't want to get up that morning. I had a dream that I was making out with Eric Nies, for some reason. Maybe it was because I kept thinking about my aerobics tape the whole time I was gone.

We had breakfast, took some pictures and then got off the boat. We lined up to get a cab to take us to the University of Hawaii to get some sweatshirts and just have a look around. There was an excitable man directing people into the cabs. When we got into ours, the driver (who was Asian) said, "Fuck that Korean guy!" At first, I thought I misheard him. But then I heard him again. I guess he didn't like how he was giving more customers to the other Korean cab drivers.

We bought sweatshirts and someone called us another cab. We people watched a little. I noticed that a lot of the people there wore their sandals and flip flops too small.

The cab driver finally found us after calling us a bunch of times. He asked where we were from and we told him the Philadelphia area. Turns out he was a bit of an Eagles fan. And he asked us about cheesesteaks. He thought that the whiz that they show on tv was mustard. I taught him the proper way to order, should he ever find himself at Pat's.

We got to the airport and checked the duffle bag that we had since it had some liquids in it. The airport seemed to be overrun with midgets and deformed people. We had two more Kona Longboard drafts.

I got on the plane and felt like crying. I was really going to miss Hawaii and didn't want to come back to work and life around here in the cold and snow. What made it worse was that there was some sort of issue with the cargo and the pilot had to take the plane back to the gate to readjust. This made me a bit nervous. I'm usually not afraid to fly, but going over the ocean can be a bit unnerving.

The flight attendant gave me a can of Sprite. It tasted funny at first. Then I realized that the can came from the Netherlands. It seems that they use local water and use sugar instead of syrup. That might be the only thing I learned in my global business class.

We changed planes without issue in Dallas. A girl around my age, maybe a little younger was traveling by herself with an infant. I helped her carry her stuff off the plane in Philly. We went down to baggage claim and, almost immediately, the bags that we checked from the ship appeared. The duffle bag that we checked at the airport is still missing, however. I had to run out and buy all new makeup and toiletries today. The girl with the baby said that some of her bags were open and missing items. Another guy was told that his bags were probably left at their home airport simply because they were too heavy and would cause the plane to fall out of the sky (I'm not kidding).

And could someone please tell me why they bar code luggage if they don't use it for tracking purposes?

And that is why I will never fly with American Airlines again (see, I told you I'd get back to it).

GENERAL NOTES

Choose Royal

If you have to choose between Norwegian and Royal Caribbean, choose Royal. Norwegian's Freestyle Cruising is nothing but an inconvenience. Their ships are grossly understaffed and lack the seasoned professionalism of Royal.

Take the Steps

You're going to want to try all sorts of new foods and enjoy yourself. This could cause you to feel like a cow. Also, the average person gains on pound per day when on a cruise. As a result, you should always take the steps and avoid shuttle buses unless you don't know where you are going or your destination is extremely far away.

No Photos Please

There are photographers everywhere. As I overheard one of them bitching about her pay, I learned that they are not paid an hourly rate. They are paid by the number of photos and by commissions. As a result, they will be difficult to avoid. And when you're hideously unattractive, this can be really uncomfortable.

Don't wear your sunglasses while tanning

Even if Ace is your favorite member of Kiss.

I wouldn't say this if I didn't really mean it

Don't drink if you know the boat will be in motion. Nothing is worse than motion sickness.

You will never be dressed appropriately

If you wear shorts, you will be cold. If you wear long pants, you will be hot.

Yeah, I feel safe

If you place your hand over your watch or your belt buckle when going through a metal detector, it will not go off.

People will stop short right in front of you for no reason.

So kick them.

Hawaii is very 70's.

But for some reason, the people there love their 50's music.

If I hear that "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" medley one more time, I might kill myself.

10 CDs That Never Get Old

I'm extremely fickle and get bored with things easily. And given the scientific fact that our bodies renew our cells every seven to ten years, causing tastes to change, it's a miracle that anything remains constant in my world. But I seem to always find myself gravitating towards these CDs during good times and bad. Some of which have been favorites for many many years.

Counting them down...


10. Fall Out Boy - From Under the Cork Tree
Best Tracks: "Dance, Dance," "Sugar We're Going Down," "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More 'Touch Me.'"

Favorite lyrics: "I don't blame you for being you but can you blame me for hating it?"

This is the most recent on the list. Am I too old to like Fall Out Boy? Am I uncool for this since they're now "way too mainstream" according to all those little emo brats? I will hand it to this whole emo revolution (and yes, I say revolution because if you look at the music surrounding historical periods of war, you'll notice vast changes in musical tastes and popularity...in the 60's we saw the rise of folk rock...shortly after the Gulf War of the 90's we saw grunge, etc. etc.), we're getting the best heart wrenching lyrics out of these pussy boys. Every time I listen to this CD I discover new lyrics. And the tunes are pretty catchy as well.



9. Concrete Blonde - Bloodletting

Best tracks: title track, "Caroline," "Lullaby," "Tomorrow," "Wendy"

Favorite lyrics: "I've got the ways and means to New Orleans, I'm going down by the river where it's warm and green, I'm gonna have a drink and walk around, I've got a lot to think about"

Most people probably know the song "Joey" on this CD, but there is a lot more on it. And quite frankly, that might be the worst song on here. I used to sit in my basement and sing along to this for hours. And I was amazed to find it on the juke box at my favorite bar recently. You always know when I'm there because I'm usually playing something from this CD.



8. Judybats - Down in the Shacks Where the Satellite Dishes Grow
Best tracks: "Our Story," "How it Is," "Lullaby (Weren't We Wild)," "When Things Get Slow Around Here"

Favorite lyrics: "Good love is easy to find, but it's hard to keep, and though I hate it when you wake, I still love to watch you sleep"

It was hard to pick a favorite Judy Bats CD because I love them all. Although, I've probably played "Native Son" more than any CD I own and "Pain Makes You Beautiful" is usually my comfort CD. I listen to that one on my way to uncomfortable places like job interviews and the gynecologist. This CD is just fun. I remember being so excited when it came out. Every now and then another Judy Bats fan surfaces. But they seem to be few and far between.



7. Oasis - (What's the Story) Morning Glory?

Best tracks: "Don't Look Back in Anger," "Champagne Supernova," "Wonderwall"

Favorite lyrics: "Take me to the place where you go, where nobody knows, if it's night or day"

Also known as the "What the fuck did I do last night?" CD because, when I first turned 21, I would come home and play this all night as I fell asleep. And yes, I realize that I'm choosing the more popular songs as favorites here. But this is probably one of the few instances where I will keep an overplayed song on the radio if I hear it. I think that's the true test of a CD that I could never get sick of. I fully recognize the songs are overdone, yet I still like them. That rarely happens.



6. The Rolling Stones - Some Girls

Best Tracks: "Before They Make Me Run," "Far Away Eyes," "Just My Imagination," "Respectable"

Favorite lyrics: "I wasn't looking too good but I was feeling real well"

I'll admit this is not the best Rolling Stones CD, but it's the only one that I can honestly say I like every single track. The other CD's have those typical warhorses on them ("Jumpin' Jack Flash," "Start Me Up," etc.). I also love Ron Wood. And they put out very few good CDs with him.



5. Counting Crows - August and Everything After

Best tracks: "Anna Begins," "Murder of One," "Round Here," "Raining in Baltimore"

Favorite lyrics: "And every time she sneezes I believe it's love and oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing"

This is more of a sentimental favorite than anything. I bucked the CD trend for years because I only had a tape player in my car. This was the first CD I bought. And I still play it a lot when I'm writing or when I was doing homework.



4. The Wallflowers - Bringing Down the Horse

Best tracks: "Laughing Out Loud," "God Don't Make Lonely Girls," "The Difference," "One Headlight," "6th Avenue Heartache"

Favorite lyrics: "It smells of cheap wine and cigarettes, this place is always such a mess, sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn"

Again, I know I'm picking the more popular songs on the CD, but it all goes back to the same drunken time period. I remember dancing to this with my sister at the Citz on a Sunday night. There are also a lot of great lyrics on this one to choose from. And I also remember back in college whenever we'd see the video to "One Headlight," Taco and I would point at the TV and say, "I'd fuck that." Years later, I met Jakob Dylan outside of the TLA in Philly. It totally ruined everything for me. His skin seemed a little yellow. He was all bundled up. His eyes were gorgeous, but in no way rivaled G Love's.



3. Mike Doughty - Skittish/Rockity Roll

Best Tracks: "Rising Sign," "The Only Answer," "Looks," "Down on the River by the Sugar Plant"

Favorite Lyrics: "You were the only answer, my plans spun all around you, five years in the wrong I am assured, my name to you is just another word"

I'm cheating. I own this CD as two separate CDs. I bought them long before they were released as one and Mike even signed my copy of Skittish when I saw him in Seattle. I made an ass out of myself by asking him about his cover of Mary J Blidge's "Real Love," mentioning that was the main reason why I was buying the CD. But, I'm nothing if not honest. This stuff sounds different from the typical Soul Coughing stuff, but similar enough to still be enjoyable. The guy went through some hard times, but cleaned up his act. And he's ok to talk to at his shows. He's actually not a dick.



2. Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes

Best tracks: "Mother," "China," "Precious Things," "Happy Phantom," "Leather"

Favorite lyrics: "I walked into your dream and now I've forgotten how to dream my own dream, you are a clever one aren't you?"

Even in high school I suffered from insomnia. I used to take naps after school and then sit in my living room and do homework at 3 AM. Circa 1991, MTV played the weirdest shit at that hour. That was when I saw my first Tori Amos video. I believe it was "Silent All These Years." And I've loved her ever since. I would actually sit there writing essays, hoping that the video would come on. Years later, after seeing her in concert a bunch of times and listening to subsequent releases, this is still my favorite. I sometimes feel that she actually got worse over time.



1. The Pixies - Doolittle

Best tracks: "Debaser," "Wave of Mutilation," "Hey," "Monkey Gone to Heaven"

Favorite lyrics: "If the ground's not cold everything is gonna burn, we'll all take turns, I'll get mine too"

This is my everything CD. I listen to it when I'm nervous, especially when I'm throwing parties. I play it when I know I'm going to be in an uncomfortable situation. I play it when I'm happy. I play it when I need a boost. I play it when I lay out in the sun. I originally bought this on tape the weekend my grandmother died. Maybe that has something to do with it. All I know is that it's always been my favorite. And nothing has ever really rivaled it.

Honorable mention goes to:

Me First and Gimme Gimmes - Have a Ball

Alanis Morissette - Jagged Little Pill

Live - Throwing Copper

Flyleaf - Self titled

Moxy Fruvous - Bargainville

Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians - Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars

Social Distortion - Self titled

Anthrax - Attack of the Killer B's

Barenaked Ladies - Rock Spectacle

Ned's Atomic Dustbin - God Fodder

Singles - Soundtrack

Pearl Jam - Ten

Thin Lizzy - Peel Sessions