I CAN RESIST EVERYTHING EXCEPT TEMPTATION

Thursday, July 31, 2008

what you don't want to wake up to in the middle of the night

is the sound of shattering glass and screeching tires. It's not pleasant, and it gets the heart racing. Last night as I was busy dreaming of unicorns and cheeseburgers, I was awakened by just such a sound coming from the parking lot outside my window. I'm not startled by loud noises in the complex anymore, as I've had to endure 4AM blarings of the Cure by my neighbors (accompanied by strained and tone-deaf singing), post last call domestic arguments lasting for hours, and various assholes using the straight and mostly empty road the apartment fronts on as a way to test the maximum speeds of their impalas. But last night was different. I jolted out of bed and ran to my window in time to see a large dark SUV speeding away out of the parking lot next to mine. I'm on the third floor so I had the perfect vantage point to spy from. I've used it numerous times to check that my car wasn't being stolen and to judge the woman who brings her two kids home from god knows where at midnight at least twice a week.

A few people came out of their apartments after all this happened. I heard some screaming, and the kids who initially got to go look at the commotion were quickly rushed inside. Then more people came out and looked pretty upset, which was really disturbing since I had no idea who/what was crashed into and couldn't see very well, given that it was dark and there was a fence separating my parking lot and theirs. But I kept staring, and finally noticed that where there should have been a window and wall at the corner of the apartments, there was now just a gaping hole. A hole! That stupid SUV had somehow slammed into the side of the apartment, into someone's bedroom, and obliterated their window and corner wall. Just imagine, you're sleeping soundly in your bed, not a care in the world, and all of a sudden a Suburban comes to tuck you in. I am amazed that no one got hurt. Except, I hope, for the driver of that SUV.

I looked today and couldn't find any mention of this in the paper. Maybe "San Jose Man High on PCP Demolishes Tykes Bedroom with Escalade, Ruining Winnie the Pooh Lamp" wasn't an intriguing enough of a story for the Mercury News this morning. But I sure am glad they did that shocking exposé of why teens drop out of school in our county. Who knew pregnancy and gym class don't mix?

Friday, July 25, 2008

Unbreakable!

I think it's safe to say that I am clumsy. Awkward, ungraceful, some might even say, elephantine. How this began I have no idea, but I can remember falling on my face every year I was forced to participate in my elementary school's Turkey Trot, where I raced like my very life depended on it rather than just a free turkey for the holidays. Damned if I didn't want that turkey, and damned if I didn't always end up running with so much concentration that I ended up face down in the dirt. Embarrassing.

As I've grown older, my clumsiness has expanded into new and startling arenas of pain and embarrassment caused by stupidity: gouging out my knuckles whilst peeling potatoes, slicing into my palms after stubbornly ignoring the advice of a seasoned avocado-slicer and pit-remover, somersaulting into the Merced river after trying to baptize my hair. I don't know why I do some of the things I do, but I am amazed and thankful that I have yet to break any bones.

I say I am clueless as to how I wake up each day to new bruises, scars, and peeled away flesh, and yet this very morning before work I found myself ironing the ruffles flat on my blouse in front of the doorway, not on the ironing board as I was taught in all my fashion design classes, but on my body as I was wearing it. If I didn't think my iron got hot enough before, I most certainly appreciate its strength now. Who doesn't want a nice smooth patch of burnt cleavage skin for the summer beach season?

In happier news, as we're entering weekend two of July/August Budget Crackdown, I've managed to do pretty well and not spend any unnecessary money. I've been cleaning out my freezer and cabinets, and last night managed to make a pretty delicious meal using risotto, chicken broth, remnants of mozzarella cheese that probably should have been tossed a month ago, and leftover tamales that Isabel was kind enough to give to me. I've hit the bottom of the freezer though, so this looks to be a weekend filled with chopped walnuts in a baggie, canned fruit cocktail, and Vietnamese rice vermicelli. Sounds like a challenge for Iron Chef to me! If I don't wind up with botulism before Vegas, I will be as surprised as anyone.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

hos in different area codes

So I put one of those little map things on my blog because Laura had one and, like a younger sister, I want everything she has. What I have discovered from it, if true, fills me with a mixture of elation, rage, and shame. Elation, because I had no idea anyone was actually reading this thing, and like any garden variety egotistical ass, the fact that my ramblings are being read (and in my mind, adored) the world over is pretty damn exciting. Those tiny dots have the power to control my self-esteem.

Rage, because come on! I live in the Bay Area. All my friends and family live in the Bay Area. So WHY, dear god, is the dot for the Bay Area so ridiculously miniscule? This means my friends and family are shirking their duties to read and worship my writings. Shirkers! You know who you are and you will be punished.

The shame is because I care in the first place. I'd like to pretend I don't, but hey, if someone stumbles onto my site because they were looking for kitten porn and the red dot increases in size for that geographical location, then so be it. I'm not above accidental hits to the page. In fact, I should start peppering my paragraphs with popular search phrases so as to make it seem like I have juicy content. But that would take too much effort, so instead, please enjoy this photo.

Monday, July 21, 2008

you can't get blood from a turnip

...because, as Janessa so astutely points out, you can really only get turnip from turnip. Unfortunately, this turnip has run dry. I read somewhere that single women in the U.S. on average spend all but like $30 of their total annual income, and judging from the last month, I can believe it. Within a day of depositing my paycheck I had about $30 to last me till the next one. And nary a shoe, purse, or new article of clothing to show for it. This is mainly due to the fact that I'm attempting to be responsible and allocate funds (after paying the staggering monthly bills) for Vegas on the 8th and finishing my latest tattoo on the 1st, but being responsible sure makes for boring weekends.

I saw a fat woman on the corner Saturday with a sign saying "Pregnant...please help." If she was pregnant, then I'm an asshole, because I just looked at her misshapen stomach tire and thought to myself "Liar." And if that was indeed a human baby that made that shape under your t-shirt, madam, then I am sorry I passed you with Erasure blaring out of my open windows. I might just have to start standing on a few corners myself to make ends meet...

Friday, July 18, 2008

a new low

Last Sunday night on my way back from the beach I was struck down like the heathen that I am with a stealthy and unexpected virus. It began with dizziness and a feeling like I was being pumped with air, much like a bicycle tire. As soon as I got home, I barely stumbled up the stairs without passing out and threw myself on the bed, salty beach clothes and all. I slept uncomfortably from 7:30 till 10:30, when the floodgates opened and the sandwich I had eaten 8 hours earlier demanded its exit, still mostly intact. This carried on for way too many hours into the night, until finally I was able to sleep without being woken up by the spins.

I went to work Monday morning although it took way too much effort to dress myself and put on makeup. After dealing with a huge accounting error that couldn’t have come at a better time, I finally went home at one and called Janessa in order to be coddled like the baby I am. I was starving, but a little unsure of what might be acceptable to my system. So the obvious choice was Sweet Tomatoes. Followed by a dinner of barbecued chicken and corn. All I will say about the outcome of that…I can no longer say I’ve never had an “accident”. I don’t know how I feel about that, it’s embarrassing but strangely refreshing. Anyway, my stomach problems continued through Tuesday so I decided not to release that thunder on the office and stayed home. Tuesday night I finally tried eating again, and praise be to jebus, it stayed in. I was so hungry from my ordeal that I actually dreamt about eating McDonalds. I think that sums up the desperation of my experience.

After not having nourishment for 3 straight days, I can tell you that the body starts to revolt when performing basic functions like walking, standing, and raising one’s arms. But after that experience, I find it quite fitting that rather than easing back into the eating circuit, I launched right in with a Wednesday night feast at La Fondue and Thursday night burgerfest at the Counter. Bring on the weekend!

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

a picture's worth a thousand words...but I'll write some anyway


In chronological order…the first set are from Janessa’s “I finally got my license” celebration. Please note the Special Olympics “winner” ribbon Laura provided along with a motivational card outlining her successes.


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Afterwards, Brian demonstrated how not to eat chocolate fondue.


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Now on to the first birthday of the 2 week birthdayfest. Janessa is wearing a steering wheel cover she got as a present, and eating another gift.


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Then came Laura’s birthday Black & Tan party. The black and tan’s varied in contrast from mostly black and light, to black and lighter black, to cloudy brown.


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Lizzie’s visit from NY…and a shiny new haircut for baby.


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And here are the bulk of the pictures from the 4th of July We Love America patio BBQ and Confetti Free For All

First, the food…


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Somewhere at the beginning of the afternoon we decided to see how many cheetos could be fit into a human mouth. First attempt: Janessa with 6, or was it 8?


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Second attempt: Carol and Laura, with I think 10 or 12…


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Then came Erin and Erica, with I have no idea how many because I was laughing too hard…


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And because Brian doesn’t do anything he can’t win at, here is the Brian series with a whopping 30 cheetos in one mouth. It’s a good thing he didn’t need help because none of us knew the Heimlich. Avert your eyes, children!


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Random pictures taken between the time I got drunk and the time I sobered up


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Some of the food missed our mouths and ended up two stories below in the parking lot. Behold, the fallen/thrown chicken wing, who was later joined with his brothers the hot dog bun, hamburger patties, chips, beer, and god knows what else.


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I noticed this later, if you can read the sign above Carol and Dave, you will see that we were grossly violating the rules of the patio. July 5, 2008 headline: “25 twenty-somethings fall to their deaths after disobeying clearly marked balcony safety guidelines”


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Dave’s tiny hat under a bigger hat really never got old. It’s too bad the ones we have of the hat on Franklin the Cat weren’t on my camera.


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And what party wouldn’t be complete without Janelle and I doing what we do best


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What, you might ask, was the cause of Janelle’s intense glee? Why, Neil Diamond, of course!


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Here’s Janelle on my birthday imitating Sheba sleeping.


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And I couldn’t resist the cuteness…
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That was exhausting. Good thing no more pictures should be necessary until Vegas in August.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

and now back to our regularly scheduled broadcast

The four day weekend was lovely. It was just long enough to rejuvenate the mind, body, and spirit, at the same time allowing for intense liver pollution and constant gorging of the stomach. I don't think an hour went by that I didn't have some tasty morsel in my mouth or some libation in hand. And yet, I still managed to get some fitness in as well, which is actually kind of disgusting.

5 Stars go to Erica and Dave (ok let's face it, mostly Erica) for hosting a most fantastic 4th of July party at their swanky abode in Belmont. Three cheers for the aptly named snacks, streamered straws, multi-light American flag, and delicious hamburgers/chicken wings/caramel apple slices. I will admit that after shoveling snacks into my face from 4:30PM to about 6:30, I then devoured the meat selection. The hamburgers were so good that I ate two before I realized what I was doing, and then later spied the flag foil tin that held the remaining patties and grabbed one, cold and naked, and swallowed it down. Janelle and I brought hot dogs, and after Janelle half cooked four of them for the two of us, topped off with another burger, I began to feel the shame. Which of course, didn't stop me from eating the birthday cake Erica surprised me with, which hands down was the best birthday cake ever and totally amazing of her to have done. The downside of a great party like this is the cleanup, which Janessa assured me was going to be quite the undertaking. I promise I didn't participate in the confetti spraying...although I can't say the same for the "let's see how far we can hurtle this food item off the balcony" event. If that's not a sign of a good time, I don't know what is.

We went to Paragon for my birthday celebration, which I must say was kind of a mistake having on Saturday since everyone was totally done in from the day before. But since I am none too pleased about being 29 anyway, the mellowness worked out fine. The last time I was sober for my birthday, I think I was 20. It's all downhill from here...

I somehow volunteered myself for a four hour hike on Sunday, and I can tell you from experience that there are tons of better ways to spend one's birthday. But it was great when it was over and at least we can all say we accomplished something. My thighmeats are still a little sore from all the inactivity at work, but I would do it again. This time I would eat beforehand though, since two celeries and a graham cracker don't quite sustain the body in a 1K elevation climb. Kudos to Laura for being a super little trooper after twisting her ankle, yet refusing to let us fashion a stretcher out of sticks to carry her all the way down. We all made it out alive and although I didn't capture the lizard I had hoped for, it was still a successful trip.

I now have exactly one month to prepare my liver for Vegas. My goal is to make at least three stiff drinks a night, so I can ease into the 20 cocktail a day deathfest that Vegas invariably is. I should probably order the transplant now so it's in the mail by the time I get back...