get out of my purse!

excuse me, but if you are ever in line behind me some place where i'm conducting a financial transaction (even if it is just purchasing a tall, soy chai) give me some space. i don't know you. respect my bubble. you should not be even close enough to touch me while i have my hand in my purse. but never mind that, if we aren't friends, i don't want you within whispering distance. ever. unless maybe we are in a v. crowded subway train or elevator at 8:55. this is america, we have room.

maybe, maybe not

you know how you have friends who do things, and you're like, gee, that's swell! i should do that too. yeah, so i'm trying to blog again. it probably won't last. you know how i am. lazy. easily distracted by shiny objects. lazy.

i'm haunted or crazy -- maybe both

i'm not even going to talk about the cat-ghost at remy's. because that one is just too much for anybody to believe.

but for months now i have seen a women in the ladies lou that isn't really there. i don't see her every day. but just about the time i figure it was a figment of my imagination, there she will be again hogging a stall or walking around confusing me. then last week i was sitting in my office when my stapler lifts up off my desk and drops back down. so not only do i see it move on it's own, but i hear the thump as it crashes back down.

having a haunted washroom is bad enough, but now it's in my office. this is not ok. not at all.

i'm back for now

i haven't blogged here much because well, to be honest, i usually just post my blogs on myspace these days. but since i have had a few people comment (anonymously) on my old valentine's day blog. i kinda felt like i needed to clarify some things, especially because christmastime is coming and girls everywhere are going to want to do things for their beaus.

first, i would like to make the point that i am a crafty person. i enjoy homemade gifts. i like to make things for my friends and loved ones. i'd much rather get something handmade or personal. even handmade by someone else, is better than generic off the shelf b.s.

the point of my blog wasn't to say, "don't make things for your boyfriend! that's stupid!" no. my point was, "don't make stupid things for your boyfriend!" boys don't like flowers and hearts. if they did, they would get them for each other. if you want to embroider something, don't go embroider "sweet dreams handsome prince" on his pillow case. go embroider some kick ass design on a shirt that might actually mean something to him. here is an awesome example of a well thought out, homemade gift. this was made by jennadikes on craftster.


so to wrap things up, the point isn't girls shouldn't make gifts for boys. the point is make the poor boys something they would like for a change. they will love you no matter what. but no way they are bringing that girly pillowcase to band practice to show their friends.

it’s not as awesome when you have to explain it

so i was wicked excited about my lovely holly golightly dress. but after wearing it, i realized kids these days would give the coolest hooker on the planet prize to julia roberts in pretty woman, not audrey hepburn in breakfast at tiffanys. so here, dahlings, is the inspiration for my glamour-ama-ding-dong, dress.

there will be...

i finally watched there will be blood over the weekend. johnny and i have been trying to see that one, but the timing was always off, so we kept seeing other films instead. so anyway, saw it, loved it.

i decided "there will be blood" wasn't really a fitting title, but sort of a notice of what was to come. so here is a list of some other possible titles/notices for the film.

there will be exorcisms

there will be an oil-man

there will be american sign language

there will be bowling

10 valentines day gifts you can make for your bf

i was reading an article called, "10 Valentine's Day Gifts You Can Make for Your Boyfriend". i'm crafty. i make things. i don't have a bf, but i do have a valentine. so it seemed relevant. but let me tell you something, if you want to keep that valentine of yours, you will NOT, under any circumstances, do the things on this list.

1. personalized picture frame
2. handwritten card
3. relationship scrapbook
4. decorated coffee mug
5. photo collage
6. write a book (about your relationship)
7. make invitation with hearts and flowers on it (yes, it really said that) to a homemade dinner
8. decorate a pillowcase with hearts and flowers and messages like sweet dreams
9. coupon books
10. decorated sugar cookies in little heart shapes

no guy on the planet wants gifts involving flowers, hearts and photo collages. if you want to do something that your bf will really like, better to stick with the Bs--bjs, beer, beef and boobs.

don’t make me shoot you!

i think the lack of daylight is starting to take its toll on my brain and put me in a mood. so take that, and add in some major issues at work, some stupid kid with a gun and you end up with me this week.

i don't normally like talking about this, but the people who know me well enough, or long enough, know two things about me that have really shapped who i am: one, i was involved in a major school shooting where i was held captive and two, i have pretty severe ADHD. try being a hyperactive that has to stay still! it's torture!


everytime something like this happens it drags up a lot of ugliness that lives inside me and i just have a hard time coping. one of the hardest things for me to take are people who think they are somehow experts on the subject weighing in with their opinions, which they like to present as facts, backed up by faulty arguements.

when they give these opinions, you might notice that they like to blame things--video games, movies, guns, drugs, etc. all easy targets. but if you want to know my opinion (and seeing as how i have more experience than 99% of people on the subject, i'd call it an expert opinion), i think they are all just full of shit.

you have children dealing with mental illness and little to no coping skills. you have parents who don't know how to fix them, if they even try. you have peers who are often cruel. you have a society that glorifies violence and values money over all else. there are just so many parts to the puzzle that come into play.

so unless you've staired down a gun and somehow looked past it to have a conversation with one of these kids, then i don't want to hear your opinion on why he did it. it wasn't one reason. it was many--anger, sadness, confusion, loneliness and pain. the problem is not simple and things are not to blame.

glamour, glitter, fashion and fame...

last night i made my first appearance as JEM. i loved it!

firstly, because for me JEM was right up there with GI JOE and Transformers when it comes to my favortie 80s cartoons. girls didn't have a lot of fun action-y cartoons about them. and she was way better than that piece of crap she-ra.

second, because i have decided pink hair really suits me. why doesn't hair naturally come in pink? it's so pretty!

oh if only i had my own super computer that could make me into a beutified, rock goddess hologram! if only.

my husband is a slut...in my dreams

if you have, or have ever had a significant other, then chances are you've had the dream. the one where you catch y'r S.O.(B.) doing naughty things with someone else. after which, of course, you have to be a little pissed at them for cheating (even if you see nothing wrong with that dream you had of your own involving scarlett johansen's fun bags).

my dream last night involved my husband cheating on me with a friend i haven't seen in years. in real life this would never happen. one, my husband isn't the cheating type. two, my friend is now living in d.c. three, she also happily married. four, to a girl. but these things didn't stop me from hating him a little this morning as i kissed him goodbye. (how dare you, you dirty dream-whore!)

i hope tonight the saga continues where it left off and i get to dream kick his ass. the only problem with dream kicking people's asses is that it never works. you throw a punch that is about as effective as alcohol-free cold medicine or you go to give him a chuck-norris-style roundhouse to the face and realize you can't move y'r legs. my only hope is that i'll be able to use my dream super powers to pick him up, fly high into the sky and drop him on his fat head.

monkeys are good people

right now there is an austrian case that is getting a lot of media attention. why? because they want to declare a chimp a person to protect him, if something were to happen to the shelter where he lives. now, to most of us this seems crazy, because we think of people as humans. duh! but in fact, most people don't realize that in the western world a corporation is also legally people.

so i say, if target gets to be people, let poor hiasl be people too. just look at his cute little face!

i win!

i spent the last week with my pops, which was nice. i missed him. but if the visit were any longer i would have had to call him out. (i know, it's not right to call y'r daddy out, but when have i ever cared what's right.) all week i had to listen to b.s. like, "you should get up to make breakfast for your husband before he goes to work." (my husband is an artist, who works from home. AND...sorry husband...makes half what i do.) and "you shouldn't make him iron his own shirts." (pops must be going senile he has had to iron his own shirts his whole life.)

by the end of the visit i had had it with his 1960s ideals. i was offended that his last words to me before leaving weren't, "i love you" or "thanks for the hospitality", but "take care of your husband". and i was a little pissed off, that is, until i remembered that my relationship has lasted longer that both of his marriages. oooh burned!

flat stanley is coming!

i got some very exciting news this morning that flat stanley will be coming to visit me! i can't wait to show him around boston.

america. f*ck yeah!

i've heard a lot of pissing and moaning about immigration lately. immigration has always been an issue, especially in TUSA (TUSA because i feel like "The" is really part of the name, not just united states but The United States. thank you very much.)

in the short history of our country, which immigrants we were against has always changed depending on who was coming in at the time, italians, irish, etc. these days it's the mexicans, or dirty mesicans as they are more commonly known, that need to get the fuck out.

the common argument, usually by european-americans (or cracker-ass crackers) is that these wet-backs need to go back where they came from. the only problem is, while this reasoning may have worked with italians, germans, chinese or even african-americans (in that case, igonoring the fact that we brought them here ourselves.), mexicans actually are americans. some of them actually coming from texas, arizona, california, etc. because all of those places, way up to wyoming (but who wants to live there anyway) were once mexico. so "go back where you came from" is actually what many of them are doing.

now a lot of my friends still living in california (except the ones that are mexicans) are going to complain about this. i can hear them now. "you don't live here anymore, what do you know." let me tell you what i know. i live in a city, founded two hundred years before mexico stopped being mexico, with very few mexicans at all. this is not the way to live. you cannot get a decent plate of tacos anywhere and it takes literally 6 months to get your house resided. have you ever heard of the big dig? that started when reagan was in office and is still going on now. you know why? no mexicans. and don't get me started on the $3 avocados.

so my point is, stop telling mexicans to go back where they came from. this is where they came from. and this is where you want them to be. because sure without them some whitey could do the job, but trust me, the mexican can do it better.

now some of you, maybe the mexicans, are going to say, "hey what about high paying jobs, why can't mexicans do those?" mexicans CAN do those, but the guy hiring for the position, he's going to hire his college roommate's son. and all his friends are white males, so y're screwed. and if you do happen to have a white friend who gets you one of those high-paying/high power jobs, you'll only be used to keep his own ass out of hot water. sorry.

now what is a gringo to do in these times? i think it's time we immigrate to mexico. vamos a la playa, mang!

let’s go to the moOOOoovies! let’s go see the staAAaars!

so i was talking to jesse yesterday about the movie i was fixin to go see. he responds by saying, it's not a "theatre movie". and that was when it really sank in, some people just don't know what's good for them.

don't get my wrong, i love my netflix, but when i see a movie on dvd, good or bad, it always feels like settling.

for me going to the movies is always better. you have the popped corn with real butter (if you know where to go) and the ungodly amount of soda pop. you have the dark theatre to hold hands during the scary bits of scary movies. or to keep people from noticing when the pop goes flying out your nose during funny bits of funny movies.

and then there is the whole pack animal element. it's great to be in a room filled with laughter and to really laugh. a chortle is always better than a chuckle. and thrillers so thrilling you can feel the electricity generated by your neighbors, even the one that stepped on y'r toe on his 3rd trip to the bathroom. and there's that euphoria that causes everyone to break out in applause when the good guy wins or anytime christopher walken pops up on screen.

and even at bad movies, like spiderman 3, when you see people get up and walk out. amen! you think, but you stay. wanting to say that you survived the pain and are somehow better than them for it.

what it comes down to is, being at the movies is one of the few times when i really, fully enjoy being around people. the rest of the time get the fuck away from me.

dear bicyclists,

you can run red lights to your heart's content. (don't we all?) you can swerve hither and thither with no regard to hand signals. hand signals are gay anyway. i don't blame you. but stay the fuck off the sidewalk! you see that little lane there with the picture of the bike in it? that means you, nuts for brains. if you are going to break the law at least don't be a dick about it. when you come across people using the sidewalk for things like, say, walking (weighed down with bags of groceries, perhaps, perhaps not. it doesn't matter), at least have the decency to hop the curb. don't expect them to jump into bushes next to that pile of dog shit (another blog). i don't want to hear your bullshit little horn. and if i hear "on your left" one more time, i'm going to ball my fist and raise it neck level.

regards,

Q

p.s. your mama

i'm a millionaire!

this is what i plan to say wednesday night. or let's be honest, thursday morning because i'll be too busy celebrating my independence from the former evil empire with fireworks and our friend cool keith to play on the internets.

sunday i had a dream that i won the lottery. i took that as a sign that i should shell out the $20 for the super duper raffle ticket. it has a real name, but i'm not going to look it up. apparently though, the thing is a total flop and they've only sold about 1/3 or so tickets. your loss is my gain!

oh and btw, i also had a dream that we were hit by some pandemic disease that caused people to go wacko and try to hack me with butcher knives. i tried hacking them back, but this did nothing. i was, however, able to ward them off with polkadots. before i bore you too much with my dream talk, my point is, i sure hope i have time to spend my lotto winnings before the pandemic strikes.

my life, paralleled by pauline the chicken

because i think i'd be thrown out of my bookclub for recommending a picture book, i have to tell everyone about it here--everyone meaning the 3 people that may read my blog and the millions of people living in my imagination.

i'm just going to skip the why of why i was reading books in the children's section of barnes & nobel, because that would take too long to explain. but i was. that is how i came across the book, My Life as a Chicken.

it tells the story of pauline poulet, who escapes from the routine life of a layer with a shitty boss who is just out to get fat, overcomes swoopy hoots and foxes and pirate cats to find a happy place where she can belong (and not be eaten).

i totally relate! and i hope that one day i too will find myself living happily ever after in a small petting zoo.

i've decided i'm going to stay teen! so what if i'm in my 30s! i'm totally teen! like fur sure!

here are the tips for avoiding pregnancy from stay teen dot com with my commentary. because you know i always have to say something.

Thinking "it won't happen to me" is stupid; if you don't protect yourself, it probably will. Sex is serious. Make a plan.

yes, be careful! sex can happen to anyone! even people who aren't serious!

Just because you think "everyone is doing it," doesn't mean they are. Some are, some aren't — and some are lying.

true! i'm totally NOT doing it. and i'm not lying.

There are a lot of good reasons to say "no, not yet." Protecting your feelings is one of them.

not true. protecting your feelings is a lame reason. a good reason would be, a) you don't want to get knocked up. 2) he don't take care of his other baby. c) he's irish.

You're in charge of your own life - don't let anyone pressure you into having sex.

yeah y're not the boss of me. i don't care if the bible tells me i'm only supposed to stop having sex with my husband to pray. i have more shit to do than just pray. i'm sorry.

You can always say "no" — even if you've said "yes" before.

of course i can. i'm a girl. that's what we do.

Carrying a condom is just being smart — it doesn't mean you're pushy or easy.

or how about you just keep them next to y'r bed. because good luck finding y'r purse when you need it.


If you think birth control "ruins the mood," consider what a pregnancy test will do to it.

birth control doesn't ruin the mood. unless it makes you throw up. then yeah, it's a total mood killer!


If you're drunk or high, you can't make good decisions about sex. Don't do something you might not remember or might really regret.

yeah, don't do it if y'r drunk. he's just gonna have whiskey dick.


Sex won't make him yours, and a baby won't make him stay.

a baby won't make me stay either.

Not ready to be someone's father? It's simple: Use protection every time or don't have sex.

wow. that really made me think. i didn't know it was possible for me to be someone's father. dang yo!

the sinning

so there is a website that is getting a lot of buzz.  it's a site where people can go and confess their sins. when i first found out about it, it brought back the excitement of chatting with the godbot.  i'm a very nosey person so i thought reading everyone's sins would be a lot of fun.  it really was at first, but then after a few entries man this shit gets depressing!  i think the baby jesus was trying to teach me a lesson. you can check it out yourself, but i warned you.

http://ivescrewedup.com/