Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Happy New Britney Music Tuesday Eve
It’s difficult to fathom we’ve all endured as long as we have. Not withstanding a remix album – and a greatest hits – it’s been four years since Britney’s made us new music. On the eve of this most celebrated day, a day which comes two weeks earlier than originally anticipated, a day too long overdue, we blog about all things Britney.
Brought to you in an age where my friend Alisha dressed like Britney looks more like Britney, than Britney dressed like Britney, I understand your curiousness with any interest level in her happenings. There is little doubt - the woman has fallen on some tough times – a “growth year” if you will. That aside, I am happy that despite the train wreck her life continues to become – she remains committed to what she’s good at, having her mediocre voice processed in a studio. Because say what you want, there is little other that can fill up a house party in the valley like the sweet sweet sounds of the southern sweet Britney Jean Spears.
Let’s hope that somewhere in between the scathing reviews and the decent ones, there are just a couple songs that make us get up and dance. For no one’s sake, but my Britney dolls, who have been and continue to be on a timeout. This could be their very last chance at redemption.
Happy new Britney music Tuesday eve, friends, and to all a good night!
Brought to you in an age where my friend Alisha dressed like Britney looks more like Britney, than Britney dressed like Britney, I understand your curiousness with any interest level in her happenings. There is little doubt - the woman has fallen on some tough times – a “growth year” if you will. That aside, I am happy that despite the train wreck her life continues to become – she remains committed to what she’s good at, having her mediocre voice processed in a studio. Because say what you want, there is little other that can fill up a house party in the valley like the sweet sweet sounds of the southern sweet Britney Jean Spears.
Let’s hope that somewhere in between the scathing reviews and the decent ones, there are just a couple songs that make us get up and dance. For no one’s sake, but my Britney dolls, who have been and continue to be on a timeout. This could be their very last chance at redemption.
Happy new Britney music Tuesday eve, friends, and to all a good night!
Friday, October 26, 2007
Blonde Gets Visit From Grim Reaper
It would be one week to the day until the joyous celebratory affair that is Halloween. October 31 has become different things to me in my life cycle. As a kid I would greet it as an annual chance to visit my neighbors and eat sketchy candy. By the time I was a teenager I hated everything, included holidays, and I was presented the sad news my trick or treating days were a distant memory. I was never much in to scary (a self-diagnosed heart problem brought on by all things frightening). If I wasn't going to do the haunted house thing, and I couldn't get free swag from the neighbors or dress up like something that would inspire "awww"s from strangers - I just didn't see the point. Halloween, what can you do for me, I asked? Nothing.
And of course, it was just another opportunity for my parents to argue.
Aside from the changing leaves and warm welcome of fall, I had little interest in Halloween.
A year ago I was adopted by a nice family in Bakersfield. My family is lovely, but I just wasn't sure they were serving all my needs. I'd need to outsource. They really do up holidays real nice like, and I got to carve my first pumpkin with them. Carving pumpkins, acceptable Halloween activity for grownups, and fun. One point for Halloween. Later that week I dressed up with friends and had all sorts of gobs of fun. Not only could one dress up, and slutty was not only allowed, but expected, but it was another chance to party like a rockstar with your friends. Four points for Halloween. I saw in Riteaid inexpensive candy I could buy. I wouldn't need to rely on sketchy candy from strangers anymore. I would allot three points for that. I looked at my social calendar and it was just filling up with all sorts of fun activities - compliments of this Halloween person. It was difficult, but my opinion on Halloween had budged. I didn't all together hate it.
In early summer, I discovered a grassy area near my office uninhabited by my co-workers. I could go there to escape and bring a blanket and a glass of juice, and a book. Identifying with Alice in Wonderland and her good natured attempt to follow adventure down all sorts of dark holes, I chose that as my literature. I sat out there on that grassy patch behind the office, on my fleece blanket compliments of a Dodger giveaway, saw an occasional butterfly, and read Alice in Wonderland. My day felt reset when I went back in the office - and by the time I had gone cover to cover it was her I wanted to be on this Halloween holiday I didn't all together hate anymore.
Knowing much about her, I knew she was a wholesome girl. Unfortunately I had difficulty finding a Halloween costumer with that same vision. I finally selected one that almost covered my ass, and I thought that good enough.
So I'd have my costume and set my calendar with all sorts of exciting social possibilities. I'd researched my character. Halloween ready 2007 was I.
Until Wednesday.
Until. Wed-nes-day.
Believing that exercise is for masochists, I have a very strict policy to avoid it. However, it's come to my attention that I will not live forever and ever as I've been to lied to in Disney movies. There is an end. So to that end, I thought perhaps the masochism a necessary evil for prolonging my life.
Rachel and I made plans to hit the gym. But there would be the issue of the outfit. I arrived home, and on my doorknob, the following pamphlet appeared, compliments of Forest Lawn Cemetery:
HAVE YOU ASKED YOURSELF THESE SIX QUESTIONS?
1. Who will you leave behind when you die?
2. Who will prepare your final arrangements?
3. What sort of funeral would you want?
I didn't need to read 4, 5, 6,. It was clear, all be it compliments of a random pamphlet on my door, I would die. While I was out busy living, death was knocking on my door, and leaving notes. "I was joining a gym, God - I swear, I just came home to put on a cute outfit. I promise."
Was it too late? Had I reached the end of the line? While I'd given my friends a hard time for cleansing diets and no carb fads and even my own mother for carrying a suitcase of fruit around - clearly the joke was on me.
I did what was immediately rational, I took the funeral notice to the gym, and said sign me up. When the forms took too long I shouted at them to speed things along. Get me on that elliptical and how.
$200 later there have been no death notices since on my door. I seem to have escaped death's grip. Until next Halloween...
And of course, it was just another opportunity for my parents to argue.
Aside from the changing leaves and warm welcome of fall, I had little interest in Halloween.
A year ago I was adopted by a nice family in Bakersfield. My family is lovely, but I just wasn't sure they were serving all my needs. I'd need to outsource. They really do up holidays real nice like, and I got to carve my first pumpkin with them. Carving pumpkins, acceptable Halloween activity for grownups, and fun. One point for Halloween. Later that week I dressed up with friends and had all sorts of gobs of fun. Not only could one dress up, and slutty was not only allowed, but expected, but it was another chance to party like a rockstar with your friends. Four points for Halloween. I saw in Riteaid inexpensive candy I could buy. I wouldn't need to rely on sketchy candy from strangers anymore. I would allot three points for that. I looked at my social calendar and it was just filling up with all sorts of fun activities - compliments of this Halloween person. It was difficult, but my opinion on Halloween had budged. I didn't all together hate it.
In early summer, I discovered a grassy area near my office uninhabited by my co-workers. I could go there to escape and bring a blanket and a glass of juice, and a book. Identifying with Alice in Wonderland and her good natured attempt to follow adventure down all sorts of dark holes, I chose that as my literature. I sat out there on that grassy patch behind the office, on my fleece blanket compliments of a Dodger giveaway, saw an occasional butterfly, and read Alice in Wonderland. My day felt reset when I went back in the office - and by the time I had gone cover to cover it was her I wanted to be on this Halloween holiday I didn't all together hate anymore.
Knowing much about her, I knew she was a wholesome girl. Unfortunately I had difficulty finding a Halloween costumer with that same vision. I finally selected one that almost covered my ass, and I thought that good enough.
So I'd have my costume and set my calendar with all sorts of exciting social possibilities. I'd researched my character. Halloween ready 2007 was I.
Until Wednesday.
Until. Wed-nes-day.
Believing that exercise is for masochists, I have a very strict policy to avoid it. However, it's come to my attention that I will not live forever and ever as I've been to lied to in Disney movies. There is an end. So to that end, I thought perhaps the masochism a necessary evil for prolonging my life.
Rachel and I made plans to hit the gym. But there would be the issue of the outfit. I arrived home, and on my doorknob, the following pamphlet appeared, compliments of Forest Lawn Cemetery:
HAVE YOU ASKED YOURSELF THESE SIX QUESTIONS?
1. Who will you leave behind when you die?
2. Who will prepare your final arrangements?
3. What sort of funeral would you want?
I didn't need to read 4, 5, 6,. It was clear, all be it compliments of a random pamphlet on my door, I would die. While I was out busy living, death was knocking on my door, and leaving notes. "I was joining a gym, God - I swear, I just came home to put on a cute outfit. I promise."
Was it too late? Had I reached the end of the line? While I'd given my friends a hard time for cleansing diets and no carb fads and even my own mother for carrying a suitcase of fruit around - clearly the joke was on me.
I did what was immediately rational, I took the funeral notice to the gym, and said sign me up. When the forms took too long I shouted at them to speed things along. Get me on that elliptical and how.
$200 later there have been no death notices since on my door. I seem to have escaped death's grip. Until next Halloween...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Politics, Religion, and the Olive Garden
There are few issues as contentious, as dividing, which spark such fiery controversy, causing timeouts, desolation, and ultimately death - as politics, religion, and the Olive Garden.
There shouldn't be sides, but there always will be. Those who love the Olive Garden, and those who simply do not care for it. Ask me, what would a person detest about garlic salted bread sticks toasted to just satisfaction or an endless salad prepared by people who care about things like preparing wonderful salad? Who would detest these things? Ask me, why would someone turn up their nose at peach iced tea sweetened with a small wedge of peach to make it perfect. Could it be they hate the way that no matter what you choose to eat there you will love it? Or that even when you decline dessert, because your stomach is to maximum capacity with goodness, the wait staff is kind enough to bring a chocolate ending your meal off on a sweet note?
Who are these people that hate all which I love? People whom I best not discuss the other contentious topics of our day. Those people.
There shouldn't be sides, but there always will be. Those who love the Olive Garden, and those who simply do not care for it. Ask me, what would a person detest about garlic salted bread sticks toasted to just satisfaction or an endless salad prepared by people who care about things like preparing wonderful salad? Who would detest these things? Ask me, why would someone turn up their nose at peach iced tea sweetened with a small wedge of peach to make it perfect. Could it be they hate the way that no matter what you choose to eat there you will love it? Or that even when you decline dessert, because your stomach is to maximum capacity with goodness, the wait staff is kind enough to bring a chocolate ending your meal off on a sweet note?
Who are these people that hate all which I love? People whom I best not discuss the other contentious topics of our day. Those people.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Preparing for Winter.
Rebecca: Can I tell you what a retard I am?
Lisa: Yes, please.
Rebecca: I ran to the supermarket last night.
And by ran I mean I drove.
I was certain I needed apple cider with the plummeting Los Angeles freezing seventy degree temperatures.
I saw these "mulling spices" tea bags.
And was certain that would make me apple cider.
One can imagine my disappointment after I had lit candles, got out my portable heater, draped my sweater blanket across me – just to take a swig of my toasty beverage and have it be weird tasting apple water.
As it turns out you add those to apple juice in order to make the cider.
It was terribly disappointing.
This is why I allow other people to cook for me and wait patiently in the drive through until they are done.
Lisa: Yes, please.
Rebecca: I ran to the supermarket last night.
And by ran I mean I drove.
I was certain I needed apple cider with the plummeting Los Angeles freezing seventy degree temperatures.
I saw these "mulling spices" tea bags.
And was certain that would make me apple cider.
One can imagine my disappointment after I had lit candles, got out my portable heater, draped my sweater blanket across me – just to take a swig of my toasty beverage and have it be weird tasting apple water.
As it turns out you add those to apple juice in order to make the cider.
It was terribly disappointing.
This is why I allow other people to cook for me and wait patiently in the drive through until they are done.
Football and Feelings
At 8am on Sunday morning I called my friend Jed to wake him up, and talk about my feelings.
He said, why not come over to my house, we'll watch football, and we can talk about our feelings.
Then his Seahawks lost, and we talked about his feelings.
Football and feelings.
He said, why not come over to my house, we'll watch football, and we can talk about our feelings.
Then his Seahawks lost, and we talked about his feelings.
Football and feelings.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Stop Signs As Suggestions.
I am in agreement with almost all laws. Taking the liberty while in law school to study them all, I am in full accordance with most of them. There are a handful, no wait, two hands, that I find unnecessary. The ones with which I differ: those that tell me what to do. Wait, two hands and possibly a foot.
I cannot find a good explanation how seat belts should be mandated by law. The suggestion is notated and appreciated, but as law unnecessary. Just as stop signs are not fully needed. They put one at the corner of my street several weeks ago and you can just imagine the confusion as I sat there wondering where this had come from. Had it been left by transients - dropped from the sky. I pondered whether I was legally obligated to stop. Who had vested this authority. I demanded answers. As I drove around the rest of that day and in the days that followed I thought about the other stop signs in my neighborhood and throughout my city. There certainly seemed to be a lot of them. There were a lot of them when I was in a damn rush to get somewhere. Who had put in this stop sign and what sort of authority did they have to tell me when to start and when to go. I hated the power that sign had. I hated the power the speed limit sign had. I hated thepower the carpool lane sign had. My life seemed to be determined by posted signs in the street. I would take them as suggestions. "Perhaps you want to stop here." "Perhaps if nothing slow down at this sign." "Think about maybe getting a friend to ride along with you next time you're in the carpool lane." When I saw traffic signs as soft suggestions, instead of hard rules, I no longer had the same resentment. I thought about sharing this philosophy with the officer who pulled me over for driving solo in the hov lane. But he seemed like he was having a rough day, and wasn't in any shape for my tips for living. Also, that ticket was real expensive. So I'm not sure I can afford to see stop signs as suggestions anymore. It was fun, however, while it lasted.
Like my own little Rosa Parks sort of movement.
I cannot find a good explanation how seat belts should be mandated by law. The suggestion is notated and appreciated, but as law unnecessary. Just as stop signs are not fully needed. They put one at the corner of my street several weeks ago and you can just imagine the confusion as I sat there wondering where this had come from. Had it been left by transients - dropped from the sky. I pondered whether I was legally obligated to stop. Who had vested this authority. I demanded answers. As I drove around the rest of that day and in the days that followed I thought about the other stop signs in my neighborhood and throughout my city. There certainly seemed to be a lot of them. There were a lot of them when I was in a damn rush to get somewhere. Who had put in this stop sign and what sort of authority did they have to tell me when to start and when to go. I hated the power that sign had. I hated the power the speed limit sign had. I hated thepower the carpool lane sign had. My life seemed to be determined by posted signs in the street. I would take them as suggestions. "Perhaps you want to stop here." "Perhaps if nothing slow down at this sign." "Think about maybe getting a friend to ride along with you next time you're in the carpool lane." When I saw traffic signs as soft suggestions, instead of hard rules, I no longer had the same resentment. I thought about sharing this philosophy with the officer who pulled me over for driving solo in the hov lane. But he seemed like he was having a rough day, and wasn't in any shape for my tips for living. Also, that ticket was real expensive. So I'm not sure I can afford to see stop signs as suggestions anymore. It was fun, however, while it lasted.
Like my own little Rosa Parks sort of movement.
Blonde Goes Green.
At 5am this morning my blackberry delivered to me a piece of breaking news via CNN.
FORMER VICE PRESIDENT AL GORE WINS NOBEL PEACE PRIZE
I have no idea why this would be funny to me - but it totally was. I just think Al is funny looking. But it isn't funny. Global warming is a very serious issue. A very very serious issue. And once I figure out what it is, I will take it even more seriously. So I decided to take it upon myself, on company time of course, to research global warming.
Global warming is synonymous for climate change. This increase in global temperature is supposed to have secondary effects, including a rising sea level and extreme weather. As I read on, I came upon a dozen words I didn't understand and caught on a secret this was like all about science. So I lost interest.
So here's the deal. I don't get the charts and big words. But clearly this is a big deal to Al and he was our vice president. Out of respect, I'm willing to make some changes. Also, I got an e-mail at work that said I had to. I have to print less and use these new blue bins and plates instead of paper ones. I'm not clear how the new plates are helping glaciers floating around in Alaska, but until I can get clarification on the big words I will trust Al and his big fancy prize.
FORMER VICE PRESIDENT AL GORE WINS NOBEL PEACE PRIZE
I have no idea why this would be funny to me - but it totally was. I just think Al is funny looking. But it isn't funny. Global warming is a very serious issue. A very very serious issue. And once I figure out what it is, I will take it even more seriously. So I decided to take it upon myself, on company time of course, to research global warming.
Global warming is synonymous for climate change. This increase in global temperature is supposed to have secondary effects, including a rising sea level and extreme weather. As I read on, I came upon a dozen words I didn't understand and caught on a secret this was like all about science. So I lost interest.
So here's the deal. I don't get the charts and big words. But clearly this is a big deal to Al and he was our vice president. Out of respect, I'm willing to make some changes. Also, I got an e-mail at work that said I had to. I have to print less and use these new blue bins and plates instead of paper ones. I'm not clear how the new plates are helping glaciers floating around in Alaska, but until I can get clarification on the big words I will trust Al and his big fancy prize.
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