come out, come out, where-ever you are!!
now, i don't want to think i have a bigger fanbase than i actually do, but i do know for a fact that several people read my blog and refuse to ever comment, so ... comment, bitches!
Friday, January 11, 2008
it's national de-lurking week!
come out, come out, where-ever you are!!
now, i don't want to think i have a bigger fanbase than i actually do, but i do know for a fact that several people read my blog and refuse to ever comment, so ... comment, bitches!
a mental fracture ... fractured.
this is kind of going to be a long post as it's been a while since i've blogged. this past week and a half has been crazy busy at work so i've rarely had time to browse the internet much less post on my blog. a few things have happened since my last post, some good ... some bad. i'll start with the good.
good
the past friday i was coerced into going out. i say 'coerced,' but it doesn't take much, honestly. it's been roughly 2 months since i've gone out to the bars, give or take a week, and when steven called me telling me i had to come out, i was hesitant at first, but then i warmed up to the idea. so, jamie picked me up a little after 9 p.m. and we drove into the city toward 'grand central,' for their $1.75 drink special. now i've mentioned this drink special before but in case anyone's forgotten, i'll give a little recap. every friday night all drinks are $1.75 ... i'm not talking about bottom shelf shit, people, i'm talking about grey goose and patron and captain morgan ... the good shit. $1.75 ... seriously, how can you go wrong.
now, being that it's been so long since my last outing, it didn't take long to feel the drinks ... in fact, after my first captain and coke i was already feeling the first tingles of a buzz on the outskirts of my mind and by the time i finished the second one, i was in--if not full--medium swing. i had a jagerbomb shot and then steven forced a shot of patron on me and, i think, pushed me over the edge. i felt a bit queasy and was making periodic trips outside for fresh, cool air ... taking a stroll down the street in case i had to purge ... which, thankfully, i did on the 3rd or 4th outing. after that, i felt 100% better. shortly after my bulimic fit, we went down to never-on-sunday for some late night chow. i had a gyro. yum.
jamie drove me home and i climbed my stairs which felt a lot more than 3 stories and i collapsed into bed. the next morning i felt like death warmed over and i did nothing all day, falling in and out of sleep.
bad
well, ok, so basically only 1 good thing happened to me in the past week and it was that i got drunk ... i'm a borderline alcoholic, apparently, when the only thing good that has happened to me was that i fell under the influence and then subsequently purged. oy.
nothing major happened on monday or tuesday, but wednesday started out as a bad day from the moment i woke up.
wednesday
my alarm clock, usually infallible, decided to not wake me up. i woke up on my own--glancing at my clock--and shooting out of bed with a start. 7:15 a.m. i'm usually up at 6:30 every morning, leaving my place at 7:30, but today ... wasn't happening. i hopped in the shower, giving myself a quick nursing-home rubdown and then ejected myself from the porcelain deathtrap (i slipped getting in.) i managed to make it out my door by 7:40, barely enough time to stop and grab a coffee and head to work.
7-11 visited .. on the road again. i'm driving and notice the traffic is unusually thick this morning so i know for sure i will be late. on dundalk avenue a bus is in the right hand lane picking up passengers and the car in front of me is in the middle lane and wants to turn right. well, instead of waiting for the bus to leave, he tries to cut the bus off as the bus starts forward and both slam on their breaks. well ... the domino effect is in the hizzie. i slam on my breaks to avoid the car in front of me and out of the corner of my eye, i see my coffee cup fly forward in slow-motion, ready to paint the inside of my jeep a nice latte color. i did a momma save, my right arm lashing out and catching my cup, as everything and anything not tied down comes into the front seat ... however, my coffee is saved ... then i hear the screech of tires on asphalt and i look into my rear view mirror and see death riding a pale horse in the shape of a silver toyota camry bearing down on me, scythe raised to lop off my head. i'm dead. thankfully, the camry stops before plowing into my rear-end (ok, jamie ... insert innuendo here) and death has been averted. we're both swearing at the jerk-off in front of me who decides it is prudent to let the bus go and then he turns. man.
so, i get on 95 and am traveling to work. i'm a bit thirsty so i pick up my coffee, glancing at everything still strewn about on my passenger side floor, and go to take a sip. well, wouldn't you just know that when i performed that miraculous save of my coffee, i had nudged the lid enough that, when taking a sip, it popped off and coffee poured down my face ... down my neck ... into my undershirt ... onto my lap ... basically, everywhere. i curse and grab a napkin that i have in the jeep and mop myself off. i've re-attached the lid and go to put it back in the cup holder and the lid pops off again and i nearly drop my coffee in a startled frenzy. this day sucks, so far.
i get to work and my stomach is suddenly full of butterflies and i feel a lurch ... i've just realized something and it doesn't sit well with me. i think i forgot to lock my apartment on the way out the door in my rush. oh shit. i get inside and call my landlord who, graciously, says she will go over and check for me and if it's not locked, she will lock it for me. (i found out later it was locked, i just forgot i locked it.) but that is one of the worst feelings thinking that you may have all your property gone when you get home. oy!
thursday
thursday rolls around and i find out that fate oftentimes pulls out his fat dick and mollywhops you in the face with it multiples times until you nearly succumb to a comatose state. i get a call.
me: hello?
chris: hey, geoff?
me: this is he.
chris: hey, this is christina.
me: oh, hey chris.
chris: hi. i don't know if you've heard, but i got an email from [the company i'm at now] and your contract is ending on the 31st so that will be your last day.
me: ::silence::
chris: i'm already starting to look for something new for you, but i need you to update your resume.
me: oh, ok.
so, ladies and gentlemen, the company that i've invested a healthy dose of reliability, time, effort, versatility ... has decided that they don't need me anymore. what a kick in the nuts.
in the 7+ months i've been here i've done so much shit for these people ... always willing to help out on projects ... learning new aspects of the job ... and they basically are just like, "yeah, thanks for the help. bye." a lot of people who work here are pissed and i've had multiple people come up to me and say they are going to see what they can do, but in all honesty ... why bother? it's a budget issue ... has nothing to do with my performance. i've just got to move on, but it just sucks because i've grown very accustomed to working here and with the people i do and i was starting to develop that familial bond here, if that makes sense.
oh well. i have a different company that i am looking at now that does basically the same thing as they do here, except they are hiring on full time and i won';t have to deal with that contracted bullshit, so ... wish me luck with them.
so, basically, my week has been hell ... granted, really only 2 bad days out of 5, but that's enough to encompass the entire week. i just want to go home now and crawl into bed and brood until monday.
good
the past friday i was coerced into going out. i say 'coerced,' but it doesn't take much, honestly. it's been roughly 2 months since i've gone out to the bars, give or take a week, and when steven called me telling me i had to come out, i was hesitant at first, but then i warmed up to the idea. so, jamie picked me up a little after 9 p.m. and we drove into the city toward 'grand central,' for their $1.75 drink special. now i've mentioned this drink special before but in case anyone's forgotten, i'll give a little recap. every friday night all drinks are $1.75 ... i'm not talking about bottom shelf shit, people, i'm talking about grey goose and patron and captain morgan ... the good shit. $1.75 ... seriously, how can you go wrong.
now, being that it's been so long since my last outing, it didn't take long to feel the drinks ... in fact, after my first captain and coke i was already feeling the first tingles of a buzz on the outskirts of my mind and by the time i finished the second one, i was in--if not full--medium swing. i had a jagerbomb shot and then steven forced a shot of patron on me and, i think, pushed me over the edge. i felt a bit queasy and was making periodic trips outside for fresh, cool air ... taking a stroll down the street in case i had to purge ... which, thankfully, i did on the 3rd or 4th outing. after that, i felt 100% better. shortly after my bulimic fit, we went down to never-on-sunday for some late night chow. i had a gyro. yum.
jamie drove me home and i climbed my stairs which felt a lot more than 3 stories and i collapsed into bed. the next morning i felt like death warmed over and i did nothing all day, falling in and out of sleep.
bad
well, ok, so basically only 1 good thing happened to me in the past week and it was that i got drunk ... i'm a borderline alcoholic, apparently, when the only thing good that has happened to me was that i fell under the influence and then subsequently purged. oy.
nothing major happened on monday or tuesday, but wednesday started out as a bad day from the moment i woke up.
wednesday
my alarm clock, usually infallible, decided to not wake me up. i woke up on my own--glancing at my clock--and shooting out of bed with a start. 7:15 a.m. i'm usually up at 6:30 every morning, leaving my place at 7:30, but today ... wasn't happening. i hopped in the shower, giving myself a quick nursing-home rubdown and then ejected myself from the porcelain deathtrap (i slipped getting in.) i managed to make it out my door by 7:40, barely enough time to stop and grab a coffee and head to work.
7-11 visited .. on the road again. i'm driving and notice the traffic is unusually thick this morning so i know for sure i will be late. on dundalk avenue a bus is in the right hand lane picking up passengers and the car in front of me is in the middle lane and wants to turn right. well, instead of waiting for the bus to leave, he tries to cut the bus off as the bus starts forward and both slam on their breaks. well ... the domino effect is in the hizzie. i slam on my breaks to avoid the car in front of me and out of the corner of my eye, i see my coffee cup fly forward in slow-motion, ready to paint the inside of my jeep a nice latte color. i did a momma save, my right arm lashing out and catching my cup, as everything and anything not tied down comes into the front seat ... however, my coffee is saved ... then i hear the screech of tires on asphalt and i look into my rear view mirror and see death riding a pale horse in the shape of a silver toyota camry bearing down on me, scythe raised to lop off my head. i'm dead. thankfully, the camry stops before plowing into my rear-end (ok, jamie ... insert innuendo here) and death has been averted. we're both swearing at the jerk-off in front of me who decides it is prudent to let the bus go and then he turns. man.
so, i get on 95 and am traveling to work. i'm a bit thirsty so i pick up my coffee, glancing at everything still strewn about on my passenger side floor, and go to take a sip. well, wouldn't you just know that when i performed that miraculous save of my coffee, i had nudged the lid enough that, when taking a sip, it popped off and coffee poured down my face ... down my neck ... into my undershirt ... onto my lap ... basically, everywhere. i curse and grab a napkin that i have in the jeep and mop myself off. i've re-attached the lid and go to put it back in the cup holder and the lid pops off again and i nearly drop my coffee in a startled frenzy. this day sucks, so far.
i get to work and my stomach is suddenly full of butterflies and i feel a lurch ... i've just realized something and it doesn't sit well with me. i think i forgot to lock my apartment on the way out the door in my rush. oh shit. i get inside and call my landlord who, graciously, says she will go over and check for me and if it's not locked, she will lock it for me. (i found out later it was locked, i just forgot i locked it.) but that is one of the worst feelings thinking that you may have all your property gone when you get home. oy!
thursday
thursday rolls around and i find out that fate oftentimes pulls out his fat dick and mollywhops you in the face with it multiples times until you nearly succumb to a comatose state. i get a call.
me: hello?
chris: hey, geoff?
me: this is he.
chris: hey, this is christina.
me: oh, hey chris.
chris: hi. i don't know if you've heard, but i got an email from [the company i'm at now] and your contract is ending on the 31st so that will be your last day.
me: ::silence::
chris: i'm already starting to look for something new for you, but i need you to update your resume.
me: oh, ok.
so, ladies and gentlemen, the company that i've invested a healthy dose of reliability, time, effort, versatility ... has decided that they don't need me anymore. what a kick in the nuts.
in the 7+ months i've been here i've done so much shit for these people ... always willing to help out on projects ... learning new aspects of the job ... and they basically are just like, "yeah, thanks for the help. bye." a lot of people who work here are pissed and i've had multiple people come up to me and say they are going to see what they can do, but in all honesty ... why bother? it's a budget issue ... has nothing to do with my performance. i've just got to move on, but it just sucks because i've grown very accustomed to working here and with the people i do and i was starting to develop that familial bond here, if that makes sense.
oh well. i have a different company that i am looking at now that does basically the same thing as they do here, except they are hiring on full time and i won';t have to deal with that contracted bullshit, so ... wish me luck with them.
so, basically, my week has been hell ... granted, really only 2 bad days out of 5, but that's enough to encompass the entire week. i just want to go home now and crawl into bed and brood until monday.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
goodbye 2007, helloooooooo 2008!
first, i just want to say HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! sorry that i'm a bit late in this, but the thought was there even if the words weren't.
second, i've noticed that several other bloggers are doing a 'highlights' and a 'lowlights' of 2007 and, though it seems to be a current trend, i'm not going to be as thorough as they are. sorry.
probably the best thing that happened to me in 2007 was that i got my own apartment. granted, it's in dundalk, but we all can't have everything! so, living alone again after about 10 years is a very freeing and enjoyable experience, yet, it's also somewhat nerve wracking and terrifying. but, i'm getting through it and, all in all, i am enjoying it immensely.
new years eve
this new years eve, mrs.twink and the mr. threw a birthday/new years party which they have done for a couple years now. the last one i attended was a blast and i certainly wasn't disappointed this year either.
the party started around 7 p.m. and yet, i wasn't in attendance. you see, i was waiting for a friend--who was travelling to the u.s. from england for new years--to call. the plan was for him to get in, shower and change and come to my place where we would then travel to the party together. he called me from chicago to inform me that he missed his flight due to--and some of you who have ever flown into chicago o'hare airport will surely relate to this--his connecting flight being on the complete opposite side of the airport from where he landed. when he got there the doors were already closed and they would not open them. snag #1. he was booked on a connecting flight later which meant his arrival in baltimore would be later, which was fine. i decided to go to the party and when he called i would give him directions to mr. & mrs.twink's. i waited for his call. 10 p.m. nothing ... 10:30 p.m. nothing ... 11 p.m. nothing ... midnight comes and goes ... nothing. i must admit that now i am a bit worried. did he get stuck in chicago? is he stranded in baltimore with no phone? what's going on? but, i'm getting ahead of myself. let me get back to the party.
so, mr and mrs.twink's place is full of a great group of people and i had originally met them the previous year and had lods of fun with them. a keg of amstel light hung out on the back porch, nice and cold in the chill winter air, a healthy fire burning away in a portable fire pit on the patio and chairs set all around for enjoyable conversation and warmth. everyone was drinking and having a great time. one thing i've noticed when a group of us get together are the number of strange topics we find to discuss:
smoking poo (thanks to zack for this one) ~ apparently if you smoke dried poo, you will get high. i don't even want to fathom who discovered this fact.
huffing poo (thanks to ben for correcting our previous oversight of 'smoking poo') ~ apparently, you don't smoke dried poo, you, instead, pee and poo in a bag and then huff it for a high. again, i don't even want to fathom who discovered this fact.
blogging ~ anytime you get more than one blogger in a room together, the conversation inevitably turns to blogging and we begin to shun the non-bloggers. it's a tragic turn, unfortunately, but i'm a blogger so i'm not left out so i don't care!
horny goat weed (again, thank you zack for bringing this to our attention) ~ apparently there's this stuff out there called 'horny goat weed' that you take and it's supposed to get you horny. well, i don't know about anyone else, but a good stiff breeze could turn me on. the package--adorned with a photo of a big-breasted half naked woman ... and a goat--contains two capsules full of horny goat weed, which we all decided was probably sawdust and oregano and no one was willing to try it, however, zack was very insistent that these be used as suppositories. oh zack ... you poor dear. please, feel free to shove them in your bum.
racism ~ meh ... touchy subject, but for some reason it's always brought up at gatherings.
homosexuals ~ again, touchy subject for some, but brought up when a group of homos are hanging out with the straights, usually followed up with, "oh, i have no problem with gay guys. i know a lot and they're lots of fun. just don't hit on me."
vagina ~ inevitable.
roast beef sandwiches ~ those who were there will get this.
the list goes on, but i've forgotten them. drinking has that effect on me, tho i was pretty reserved that night as i had to drive later on. i had a great time, though, and there were lots of laughs to go around and great conversations (the aforementioned topics included) and when midnight rolled around, much hugging and kissing were being thrown about. i met some really great people: the brick, CAG incognito (she is uber hot!!), kt (also very hot), some hot british guy named alex (no, not the one i was expecting) ~ soon to be brother-in-law to kt, and many others who's names escape me at the moment. regardless. whee. i left around 1:45/2.
now, back to my friend from england. so, i'm on my way home and i get a call from jamie.
jamie: hey girl!
me: hey girl!
jamie: so, i just got off the phone with bob and guess who's at the central.
me: oh, gee. lemme guess.
jamie: a certain british friend of yours.
me: fucker.
apparently, his flight was even more delayed and he didn't arrive in baltimore until about 11:30 p.m. and decided to go to the bar instead with his friend dan, which is fine. what irritated me was the fact that he couldn't even take a few seconds to call or send a text message informing me that he was, in fact, in baltimore and that he wasn't going to make the party. i would have totally been fine with that, but instead, i was left wondering where the hell he was and if he was ok. meh. whatever. i'm over it now, but it flowed with the blog and had to post it. lol.
anyways ... i just wanted to say thank you to mr. and mrs.twink for throwing a great party! i had so much fun! can't wait to do it again next year! i also wanted to give a big shout out to my peeps and let them know i love them. i have amazing friends and i love them so much and, unfortunately, i don't get to see them as much as i want to. this is mainly my fault as i'm trying to watch my spending, but in 2008 i will try and make more of an effort to be available and make it out to see everyone! even though we don't see each other all the time, they are always in my heart and in my mind. love you guys and girls.
second, i've noticed that several other bloggers are doing a 'highlights' and a 'lowlights' of 2007 and, though it seems to be a current trend, i'm not going to be as thorough as they are. sorry.
probably the best thing that happened to me in 2007 was that i got my own apartment. granted, it's in dundalk, but we all can't have everything! so, living alone again after about 10 years is a very freeing and enjoyable experience, yet, it's also somewhat nerve wracking and terrifying. but, i'm getting through it and, all in all, i am enjoying it immensely.
new years eve
this new years eve, mrs.twink and the mr. threw a birthday/new years party which they have done for a couple years now. the last one i attended was a blast and i certainly wasn't disappointed this year either.
the party started around 7 p.m. and yet, i wasn't in attendance. you see, i was waiting for a friend--who was travelling to the u.s. from england for new years--to call. the plan was for him to get in, shower and change and come to my place where we would then travel to the party together. he called me from chicago to inform me that he missed his flight due to--and some of you who have ever flown into chicago o'hare airport will surely relate to this--his connecting flight being on the complete opposite side of the airport from where he landed. when he got there the doors were already closed and they would not open them. snag #1. he was booked on a connecting flight later which meant his arrival in baltimore would be later, which was fine. i decided to go to the party and when he called i would give him directions to mr. & mrs.twink's. i waited for his call. 10 p.m. nothing ... 10:30 p.m. nothing ... 11 p.m. nothing ... midnight comes and goes ... nothing. i must admit that now i am a bit worried. did he get stuck in chicago? is he stranded in baltimore with no phone? what's going on? but, i'm getting ahead of myself. let me get back to the party.
so, mr and mrs.twink's place is full of a great group of people and i had originally met them the previous year and had lods of fun with them. a keg of amstel light hung out on the back porch, nice and cold in the chill winter air, a healthy fire burning away in a portable fire pit on the patio and chairs set all around for enjoyable conversation and warmth. everyone was drinking and having a great time. one thing i've noticed when a group of us get together are the number of strange topics we find to discuss:
smoking poo (thanks to zack for this one) ~ apparently if you smoke dried poo, you will get high. i don't even want to fathom who discovered this fact.
huffing poo (thanks to ben for correcting our previous oversight of 'smoking poo') ~ apparently, you don't smoke dried poo, you, instead, pee and poo in a bag and then huff it for a high. again, i don't even want to fathom who discovered this fact.
blogging ~ anytime you get more than one blogger in a room together, the conversation inevitably turns to blogging and we begin to shun the non-bloggers. it's a tragic turn, unfortunately, but i'm a blogger so i'm not left out so i don't care!
horny goat weed (again, thank you zack for bringing this to our attention) ~ apparently there's this stuff out there called 'horny goat weed' that you take and it's supposed to get you horny. well, i don't know about anyone else, but a good stiff breeze could turn me on. the package--adorned with a photo of a big-breasted half naked woman ... and a goat--contains two capsules full of horny goat weed, which we all decided was probably sawdust and oregano and no one was willing to try it, however, zack was very insistent that these be used as suppositories. oh zack ... you poor dear. please, feel free to shove them in your bum.
racism ~ meh ... touchy subject, but for some reason it's always brought up at gatherings.
homosexuals ~ again, touchy subject for some, but brought up when a group of homos are hanging out with the straights, usually followed up with, "oh, i have no problem with gay guys. i know a lot and they're lots of fun. just don't hit on me."
vagina ~ inevitable.
roast beef sandwiches ~ those who were there will get this.
the list goes on, but i've forgotten them. drinking has that effect on me, tho i was pretty reserved that night as i had to drive later on. i had a great time, though, and there were lots of laughs to go around and great conversations (the aforementioned topics included) and when midnight rolled around, much hugging and kissing were being thrown about. i met some really great people: the brick, CAG incognito (she is uber hot!!), kt (also very hot), some hot british guy named alex (no, not the one i was expecting) ~ soon to be brother-in-law to kt, and many others who's names escape me at the moment. regardless. whee. i left around 1:45/2.
now, back to my friend from england. so, i'm on my way home and i get a call from jamie.
jamie: hey girl!
me: hey girl!
jamie: so, i just got off the phone with bob and guess who's at the central.
me: oh, gee. lemme guess.
jamie: a certain british friend of yours.
me: fucker.
apparently, his flight was even more delayed and he didn't arrive in baltimore until about 11:30 p.m. and decided to go to the bar instead with his friend dan, which is fine. what irritated me was the fact that he couldn't even take a few seconds to call or send a text message informing me that he was, in fact, in baltimore and that he wasn't going to make the party. i would have totally been fine with that, but instead, i was left wondering where the hell he was and if he was ok. meh. whatever. i'm over it now, but it flowed with the blog and had to post it. lol.
anyways ... i just wanted to say thank you to mr. and mrs.twink for throwing a great party! i had so much fun! can't wait to do it again next year! i also wanted to give a big shout out to my peeps and let them know i love them. i have amazing friends and i love them so much and, unfortunately, i don't get to see them as much as i want to. this is mainly my fault as i'm trying to watch my spending, but in 2008 i will try and make more of an effort to be available and make it out to see everyone! even though we don't see each other all the time, they are always in my heart and in my mind. love you guys and girls.
this post is a bit scatterbrained as i'm at work and trying to blog without being detected and i can't really think, to be honest.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
"snap ... crackle ... choking hazard."
ok, this gets it's own post. i'll get on to the new years post in a few.
pre party
this past friday i took a little trip to mr. & mrs.twink's for some wii action before we embarked on our trek to a redneck dive called the gunslinger, or the gunrack, or the severed deer head wall hanging inn ... or something--i forget the name of it--for our friend jackson's birthday gathering.
i arrived a little after 7 p.m. in the mood for the mr.'s wee (or wii, whatever). we planned on leaving the house at 8 so that gave us an hour to play. fun. i can't wait. i've never played the wii before and i was eager to see how it handles. so, the three of sit on the sofa while they both walk me through the creation of my very own mii. (i'm much hotter irl, by the way) after that's done we start a game of bowling. it's really very cool how it works. you swing the remote as if you were holding a bowling ball and at the right time you release a button and your ball is sent travelling down the lane. this is a very ingenious machine and i had so much fun playing. after bowling, the mr. and i were going to box ... well, during the setup of this game, mrs.twink disappears and is rummaging about in the kitchen.
mrs.twink: i'm making rice crispy treats!
i. love. rice. crispy. treats! i'm all excited now. a wii, some sweet, marshmallowy goodness, the company of good friends. what more could i ask for? ... how about 911 on speed dial?
i take a bite of the delicious looking treat and i begin chewing.
mmm, it's so good. but, what's this? hmm. this marshmallow is a bit tough to chew. musta been on the bottom of the pan. lemme chew harder. wow, this is some tough marshmallow. ::chew chew chew::
i get nowhere. finally i decide that i better investigate this kevlar marshmallow and i pull it out of my mouth. yup. it's white, but it doesn't look like marshmallow. i try squeezing it with my fingers and it has absolutely no give.
me: um, mrs.twink ... i, uh ... i think there's something wrong with your marshmallow.
mrs.twink: oh no! what is it? this is the first batch i haven't burned!
me: i dunno. it's hard tho. ::peers at it closely:: i don't think it's marshmallow.
mr.: ::looks over and says nonchalantly:: oh, that's spatula.
mrs.twink: OH. MY. GOD.
me: ::looks at mrs.twink with a mix of fear and surprise in eyes:: you tried to kill me?
i finished the rest of the treat, chewing carefully and, had i discovered anything that wasn't as soft as marshmallow infused rice crispies or marshmallow itself, i would have removed it from my oral cavity and not attempted to mulch it down. however, the rest of the treat was quite good.
mrs.twink: would you like another--
me: no. ::i say before she finishing asking:: no ... no, i'm fine. thank you though. it was delicious.
she could probably make a killing (no pun intended) on rice cripsy treats with built in toothpicks.
the party
so, we arrive at the dive ... heyyyyyy ... and we stroll inside. there's like 9 or 10 people there, 3 of which we know, 2 running the karaoke kiosk, the bartender and like 4 patrons playing pool--one of whom had a very impressive mullet. we later discover that he and his partner are known as "biscuit and gravy" ... rather reminiscent of talledega nights ... "SHAKE AND BAKE!"
i'm nervous. it's been a while since i've been in a straight bar, much less a redneck straight bar. mrs.twink is my beard for the night ... we plan on having sexual relations ... or at least that's what i proclaim in a carrying voice so the redneck breeders think i'm hitting that.
me: i'm really glad i didn't wear my scarf in. they would have pegged me for a fag immediately.
long story short, we actually had a great time. i had a nice buzz going on. jackson seemed sincerely surprised and karaoke was a hoot! mrs.twink and theresa's rendition of sir mix-a-lot's 'i like big butts' was phenom! <3
pre party
this past friday i took a little trip to mr. & mrs.twink's for some wii action before we embarked on our trek to a redneck dive called the gunslinger, or the gunrack, or the severed deer head wall hanging inn ... or something--i forget the name of it--for our friend jackson's birthday gathering.
i arrived a little after 7 p.m. in the mood for the mr.'s wee (or wii, whatever). we planned on leaving the house at 8 so that gave us an hour to play. fun. i can't wait. i've never played the wii before and i was eager to see how it handles. so, the three of sit on the sofa while they both walk me through the creation of my very own mii. (i'm much hotter irl, by the way) after that's done we start a game of bowling. it's really very cool how it works. you swing the remote as if you were holding a bowling ball and at the right time you release a button and your ball is sent travelling down the lane. this is a very ingenious machine and i had so much fun playing. after bowling, the mr. and i were going to box ... well, during the setup of this game, mrs.twink disappears and is rummaging about in the kitchen.
mrs.twink: i'm making rice crispy treats!
i. love. rice. crispy. treats! i'm all excited now. a wii, some sweet, marshmallowy goodness, the company of good friends. what more could i ask for? ... how about 911 on speed dial?
i take a bite of the delicious looking treat and i begin chewing.
mmm, it's so good. but, what's this? hmm. this marshmallow is a bit tough to chew. musta been on the bottom of the pan. lemme chew harder. wow, this is some tough marshmallow. ::chew chew chew::
i get nowhere. finally i decide that i better investigate this kevlar marshmallow and i pull it out of my mouth. yup. it's white, but it doesn't look like marshmallow. i try squeezing it with my fingers and it has absolutely no give.
me: um, mrs.twink ... i, uh ... i think there's something wrong with your marshmallow.
mrs.twink: oh no! what is it? this is the first batch i haven't burned!
me: i dunno. it's hard tho. ::peers at it closely:: i don't think it's marshmallow.
mr.: ::looks over and says nonchalantly:: oh, that's spatula.
mrs.twink: OH. MY. GOD.
me: ::looks at mrs.twink with a mix of fear and surprise in eyes:: you tried to kill me?
i finished the rest of the treat, chewing carefully and, had i discovered anything that wasn't as soft as marshmallow infused rice crispies or marshmallow itself, i would have removed it from my oral cavity and not attempted to mulch it down. however, the rest of the treat was quite good.
mrs.twink: would you like another--
me: no. ::i say before she finishing asking:: no ... no, i'm fine. thank you though. it was delicious.
she could probably make a killing (no pun intended) on rice cripsy treats with built in toothpicks.
the party
so, we arrive at the dive ... heyyyyyy ... and we stroll inside. there's like 9 or 10 people there, 3 of which we know, 2 running the karaoke kiosk, the bartender and like 4 patrons playing pool--one of whom had a very impressive mullet. we later discover that he and his partner are known as "biscuit and gravy" ... rather reminiscent of talledega nights ... "SHAKE AND BAKE!"
i'm nervous. it's been a while since i've been in a straight bar, much less a redneck straight bar. mrs.twink is my beard for the night ... we plan on having sexual relations ... or at least that's what i proclaim in a carrying voice so the redneck breeders think i'm hitting that.
me: i'm really glad i didn't wear my scarf in. they would have pegged me for a fag immediately.
long story short, we actually had a great time. i had a nice buzz going on. jackson seemed sincerely surprised and karaoke was a hoot! mrs.twink and theresa's rendition of sir mix-a-lot's 'i like big butts' was phenom! <3
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
i swear i'm not 15 anymore, but i am argumentative.
first of all, i hope that everyone had an amazing holiday and got everything you wanted from that creepy old man who breaks into people's homes to leave gifts under the tree and eats your food and drinks milk that has been left out to grow warm ... next year i'm going to skip a step and just leave out a bowl of cottage cheese. mmm.
so, this holiday weekend my father and i travelled up to pennsylvania to visit family, namely my grandmother and then my aunt, uncle and cousins. friday night i left work and proceeded to my father's place where i stayed the night, bags packed, ready to go. we left a little after 5 am for the 4 1/2 hour trek to where my family lives. as with any road trip my father and i partake, we end up arguing about something. i love my father to death but he is stubborn, which is probably where i get my own stubborn streak. so, on the way up we start arguing about something. i can't even remember what it was, that's how trivial it is, however, i knew without a shadow of a doubt that i was in the right and of course i'm going to stick to my guns and defend myself against being called a liar by my father.
as we argue, my father gets more and more angry and i realize that i should just give up and swallow a fair amount of my pride and end this fight by acquiescing to him and telling him he's right. so ... i do just that. the argument is over ... for me, at least, but my father has to get in the last word.
my father: you just love to argue. you're argumentative.
touche, father o' mine ... touche. so, i basically sat in silence for the rest of the trip--which at this point was only about another 30 minutes--brooding and being silently angry answering his queries or comments with a grunt.
as with every argument with my father, we make up soon after and forget that anything ill had transpired. we get to our bed and breakfast--the mainstay in saxonburg, PA--which is now owned by a very cool gay couple who did amazing work with the place definitely improving it. we get our rooms, drop off our bags and we're off to visit my grandmother.
my grandmother, as some of you may know, has alzheimer's and it's progressed fairly far and she's mid to late stage 2. she still thinks i'm 15 and constantly asks me my age and is always surprised when i tell her. well, this trip i have a beard. i'm not sure i look forward to her reaction as 15 year olds shouldn't have full beards (no, not a fu man chu or mountain man ... just a light dusting of facial hair that has stepped beyond goatee and soul patch.) we get there and as expected, she doesn't recognize me at first. which is fine. she soon realizes it's me.
g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes. i love you.
g.ma: oh, i love you too, sweetheart.
approximately 5 minutes passes by.
g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes, grandma. ::inward sigh::
to attempt to make a long story short, she asks me repeatedly over the course of my visit and i try so hard not to get frustrated but it's really hard not to. she is a shadow of her former self and i always get so depressed when i go visit. i hate seeing her like this, though there are some funny moments ... such as the following exchange.
after about an hour into our visit, the nursing home is having a flutist come in and play christmas music and we urge my grandmother to go as we don't want to deprive her of some enjoyment. otherwise, we'll sit in silence. so, her friend rose talks her into going so she does. she's gone about an hour and when she comes back we see her walking down the hall with rose. this is their conversation:
rose: oh, [g.ma], you have visitors.
g.ma: i do?
rose: yes. ::she points at us. apparently her alzheimer's isn't as far as my g.ma's::
g.ma: ::peers at us from down the hall:: they're here for me?
rose: yes, [g.ma].
g.ma: ::leans in and "whispers" to rose:: i don't even know who they are.
sometimes you just have to find humor in things. so, our visit with her and the rest of my family was nice and we came back home sunday evening. i got to my place a little after 7:30 and crashed. monday, i did nothing. tuesday i spent christmas with my father at his place. it was a good time. i got there for breakfast and then spent the entire day with him, getting home at about 11:30 pm last night. i was exhausted. my father surprised me with a nearly complete set of tools, complete with toolbox. i was taken aback. i feel so butch now.
i felt horrible that i wasn't able to get him any presents, but money is tight right now. i love my father so much and i would do anything for him. he's a good man, charlie brown.
so, how was everyone's holiday? get anything good?
so, this holiday weekend my father and i travelled up to pennsylvania to visit family, namely my grandmother and then my aunt, uncle and cousins. friday night i left work and proceeded to my father's place where i stayed the night, bags packed, ready to go. we left a little after 5 am for the 4 1/2 hour trek to where my family lives. as with any road trip my father and i partake, we end up arguing about something. i love my father to death but he is stubborn, which is probably where i get my own stubborn streak. so, on the way up we start arguing about something. i can't even remember what it was, that's how trivial it is, however, i knew without a shadow of a doubt that i was in the right and of course i'm going to stick to my guns and defend myself against being called a liar by my father.
as we argue, my father gets more and more angry and i realize that i should just give up and swallow a fair amount of my pride and end this fight by acquiescing to him and telling him he's right. so ... i do just that. the argument is over ... for me, at least, but my father has to get in the last word.
my father: you just love to argue. you're argumentative.
touche, father o' mine ... touche. so, i basically sat in silence for the rest of the trip--which at this point was only about another 30 minutes--brooding and being silently angry answering his queries or comments with a grunt.
as with every argument with my father, we make up soon after and forget that anything ill had transpired. we get to our bed and breakfast--the mainstay in saxonburg, PA--which is now owned by a very cool gay couple who did amazing work with the place definitely improving it. we get our rooms, drop off our bags and we're off to visit my grandmother.
my grandmother, as some of you may know, has alzheimer's and it's progressed fairly far and she's mid to late stage 2. she still thinks i'm 15 and constantly asks me my age and is always surprised when i tell her. well, this trip i have a beard. i'm not sure i look forward to her reaction as 15 year olds shouldn't have full beards (no, not a fu man chu or mountain man ... just a light dusting of facial hair that has stepped beyond goatee and soul patch.) we get there and as expected, she doesn't recognize me at first. which is fine. she soon realizes it's me.
g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes. i love you.
g.ma: oh, i love you too, sweetheart.
approximately 5 minutes passes by.
g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes, grandma. ::inward sigh::
to attempt to make a long story short, she asks me repeatedly over the course of my visit and i try so hard not to get frustrated but it's really hard not to. she is a shadow of her former self and i always get so depressed when i go visit. i hate seeing her like this, though there are some funny moments ... such as the following exchange.
after about an hour into our visit, the nursing home is having a flutist come in and play christmas music and we urge my grandmother to go as we don't want to deprive her of some enjoyment. otherwise, we'll sit in silence. so, her friend rose talks her into going so she does. she's gone about an hour and when she comes back we see her walking down the hall with rose. this is their conversation:
rose: oh, [g.ma], you have visitors.
g.ma: i do?
rose: yes. ::she points at us. apparently her alzheimer's isn't as far as my g.ma's::
g.ma: ::peers at us from down the hall:: they're here for me?
rose: yes, [g.ma].
g.ma: ::leans in and "whispers" to rose:: i don't even know who they are.
sometimes you just have to find humor in things. so, our visit with her and the rest of my family was nice and we came back home sunday evening. i got to my place a little after 7:30 and crashed. monday, i did nothing. tuesday i spent christmas with my father at his place. it was a good time. i got there for breakfast and then spent the entire day with him, getting home at about 11:30 pm last night. i was exhausted. my father surprised me with a nearly complete set of tools, complete with toolbox. i was taken aback. i feel so butch now.
i felt horrible that i wasn't able to get him any presents, but money is tight right now. i love my father so much and i would do anything for him. he's a good man, charlie brown.
so, how was everyone's holiday? get anything good?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
"you don't own the road!" ~ an open letter to 18-wheeler drivers everywhere
i'm going to take a page from mrs.twink's book and write an open letter. why? because i feel like it. nyah!
dear sir or madam,
i'm writing with concerns at the way you and your ilk handle the large 18 wheeled vehicles on the roadways. contrary to what you may think, you do not own the road. sure, you drive a very large vehicle and i'm sure any opposition you encounter will acquiesce to your superiority, however, you give little heed to safety or concerns of other motorists.
this morning, on the way to work, i noticed not one, not two, but three incidents where you and your kind gave little to no warning when switching lanes, often forcing other drivers to brake suddenly to avoid being pulled under your immense weight or forced into roadside barriers. i, myself, felt very confined and frightened when a large truck bearing concrete pipes crossed the double lines while travelling through the fort mchenry tunnel. perhaps you didn't realize, but to my right was this large thing called a wall. perhaps you are unfamiliar with what this is, so let me explain. when a hole is bored through--or under--solid rock and/or earth, they create these concrete constructs to support the hole which would now be called a 'tunnel'. these 'walls' have no give and remain solid regardless what size vehicle is thrown at them. tunnels have the uncanny effect of being a small enclosed space that i am sure even someone such as yourself has some understanding. therefore, when you cross the double line, i think of death. my own. it's not a happy thought and makes the already stressful commute to work all the more so.
although i made it through the tunnel relatively unscathed, bearing in mind, please, that my mental state is a little fractured after this near-exchange of heavy metal pleasantries, i am worried that one day i, or another motorist, will be turned into paste.
in closing, i would ask that you please bear some consideration for other drivers and keep in mind that although you are in a rush to get where you need to go, destroying a life in the process will, more often than not, delay your eventual arrival at your destination. i will tell you right now that i am definitely a person who will--and has--call those 1-800-how-am-driving? numbers. so, do everyone a favor, including yourself, and drive more carefully. don't ruin my day or my life. thank you.
sincerely yours,
a concerned driver.
dear sir or madam,
i'm writing with concerns at the way you and your ilk handle the large 18 wheeled vehicles on the roadways. contrary to what you may think, you do not own the road. sure, you drive a very large vehicle and i'm sure any opposition you encounter will acquiesce to your superiority, however, you give little heed to safety or concerns of other motorists.
this morning, on the way to work, i noticed not one, not two, but three incidents where you and your kind gave little to no warning when switching lanes, often forcing other drivers to brake suddenly to avoid being pulled under your immense weight or forced into roadside barriers. i, myself, felt very confined and frightened when a large truck bearing concrete pipes crossed the double lines while travelling through the fort mchenry tunnel. perhaps you didn't realize, but to my right was this large thing called a wall. perhaps you are unfamiliar with what this is, so let me explain. when a hole is bored through--or under--solid rock and/or earth, they create these concrete constructs to support the hole which would now be called a 'tunnel'. these 'walls' have no give and remain solid regardless what size vehicle is thrown at them. tunnels have the uncanny effect of being a small enclosed space that i am sure even someone such as yourself has some understanding. therefore, when you cross the double line, i think of death. my own. it's not a happy thought and makes the already stressful commute to work all the more so.
although i made it through the tunnel relatively unscathed, bearing in mind, please, that my mental state is a little fractured after this near-exchange of heavy metal pleasantries, i am worried that one day i, or another motorist, will be turned into paste.
in closing, i would ask that you please bear some consideration for other drivers and keep in mind that although you are in a rush to get where you need to go, destroying a life in the process will, more often than not, delay your eventual arrival at your destination. i will tell you right now that i am definitely a person who will--and has--call those 1-800-how-am-driving? numbers. so, do everyone a favor, including yourself, and drive more carefully. don't ruin my day or my life. thank you.
sincerely yours,
a concerned driver.
Monday, December 17, 2007
dumpster diving in the big d and teriyaki chicken
this weekend was highly uneventful for me which, to say the least, is something i cherish. sometimes i love not having to do anything, you know? i think the most active i was on saturday was go to 7-11 for cream for my coffee .... hours pass ... i take a shower. that's it. i was broccoli on saturday (to steal that term from terri.)
sunday morning was a bit different, actually. as i sat on my wind-whipped balcony, sipping from my cup of 'chock full o' nuts' coffee and smoking a cigarette--yes, yes, i know ... i know--i was privy to a rarely seen event ... an outing by the 'secret dundalk society of dumpster divers.' they come in droves and sweep across the parking lot like a swarm of locusts ... i once saw a cat cross their path and when they passed, all that was left was a shiny, clean, white feline skeleton. they assault the dumpsters that, though quite useful as you don't have to wait for trash day, really do nothing for the apartment complex decor. lids are flipped open, the clang of plastic against metal reverberating off the buildings, and they begin picking, depositing cans and other items--apparently worth saving--into carts to be hauled back to their burrow. no dumpster is spared this indignity of being ripped open and pored through and, as quickly as they arrive, they leave ... the only sound is the wind and the rustling of trees ... it's almost as if they weren't really there ... ::cue dramatic, yet spooky, music:: this is why i don't throw junkmail or other items with my name and address into the trash and choose, instead, to shred them. currently, i have a bag full of stuff that needs shredding as i don't have my own shredder in my new place. ::sad frowny face::
so, later i ventured out of my apartment to hit up the grocery store for some essentials. i finally remembered to get peanut butter this time! yay! my whole reason for going to the store, however, was because i had been craving this dish my father used to make all the time when i was younger. the concept is simple, but the way it turned out quickly skyrocketed that meal to the top of my 'favorite dinner' list.
all day i wanted teriyaki chicken. now, i love teriyaki chicken anyway, but i really wanted my dad's teriyaki chicken. so, gathering the ingredients that i didn't have, i settled down to recreate the dish. it starts with teriyaki or soy sauce in a bowl ... throw in some sesame seeds ... mix in some brown sugar ... pour over seared chicken and let it cook in. now, the way my father used to make it, it used to thicken up a lot and had this sweet-sesame-soy flavor that was, at the time, to die for. my recreation, though very tasty, didn't turn out like my father's. it had a decent resemblance in taste, but the sauce didn't thicken like i remember and tasted more soy than anything. so, i'm pretty sure the problem was that i hadn't added enough brown sugar. next time, i will remedy that. but ... i ate it anyway over rice and it definitely sated my appetite.
and that's it, folks. that's my weekend. if you come to dundalk and see a crowd of people pulling carts behind them, run away and don't stop in front of them or you're likely to be picked clean!
**special shout-out to nanette for crushing on me ... i totally crush on her as well and if you haven't read her blog, i command you to do so. you will not be disappointed! big puffy heart for you, nanners!
sunday morning was a bit different, actually. as i sat on my wind-whipped balcony, sipping from my cup of 'chock full o' nuts' coffee and smoking a cigarette--yes, yes, i know ... i know--i was privy to a rarely seen event ... an outing by the 'secret dundalk society of dumpster divers.' they come in droves and sweep across the parking lot like a swarm of locusts ... i once saw a cat cross their path and when they passed, all that was left was a shiny, clean, white feline skeleton. they assault the dumpsters that, though quite useful as you don't have to wait for trash day, really do nothing for the apartment complex decor. lids are flipped open, the clang of plastic against metal reverberating off the buildings, and they begin picking, depositing cans and other items--apparently worth saving--into carts to be hauled back to their burrow. no dumpster is spared this indignity of being ripped open and pored through and, as quickly as they arrive, they leave ... the only sound is the wind and the rustling of trees ... it's almost as if they weren't really there ... ::cue dramatic, yet spooky, music:: this is why i don't throw junkmail or other items with my name and address into the trash and choose, instead, to shred them. currently, i have a bag full of stuff that needs shredding as i don't have my own shredder in my new place. ::sad frowny face::
so, later i ventured out of my apartment to hit up the grocery store for some essentials. i finally remembered to get peanut butter this time! yay! my whole reason for going to the store, however, was because i had been craving this dish my father used to make all the time when i was younger. the concept is simple, but the way it turned out quickly skyrocketed that meal to the top of my 'favorite dinner' list.
all day i wanted teriyaki chicken. now, i love teriyaki chicken anyway, but i really wanted my dad's teriyaki chicken. so, gathering the ingredients that i didn't have, i settled down to recreate the dish. it starts with teriyaki or soy sauce in a bowl ... throw in some sesame seeds ... mix in some brown sugar ... pour over seared chicken and let it cook in. now, the way my father used to make it, it used to thicken up a lot and had this sweet-sesame-soy flavor that was, at the time, to die for. my recreation, though very tasty, didn't turn out like my father's. it had a decent resemblance in taste, but the sauce didn't thicken like i remember and tasted more soy than anything. so, i'm pretty sure the problem was that i hadn't added enough brown sugar. next time, i will remedy that. but ... i ate it anyway over rice and it definitely sated my appetite.
and that's it, folks. that's my weekend. if you come to dundalk and see a crowd of people pulling carts behind them, run away and don't stop in front of them or you're likely to be picked clean!
**special shout-out to nanette for crushing on me ... i totally crush on her as well and if you haven't read her blog, i command you to do so. you will not be disappointed! big puffy heart for you, nanners!
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