Y'all just don't know

The kinds of e-mails my dad sends me. I don't know if they're all forwards because he doesn't know how to type or what. A sample selection of titles I forgot to delete from my inbox:
Very Quietly Obama's Citizenship case Reaches the Supreme Court
U.S. Postal Tip (has something to do with "in god we trust")
How did Jefferson know?
The Natives Seem Restless
REAL OBAMA
California vs Arizona
This is so true!

Those weren't that cool. I deleted the other ones. I guess because I wanted to destroy them after reading.

Dream summery

I dreamed I was invited to a party for Pavement being thrown in a band member's parent's basement. It was a small party. I didn't understand why they invited me, because I don't know them, but I went anyway because...fucking Pavement invited me to their party! They said they knew me and that I had totally influenced the band, which didn't make any sense, because I was a child when that first album came out. They all thought they were failures - "We've never gotten past being a good bar band!" - but I assured them they were actually great successes. Then we played hide and go seek all over the neighbor and I think one of them had a crush on me, but I wasn't into it.

The biggest crybaby show

Cupcake Wars! It's on food network. 25 - 75% of contestants cry while they are on it, much like babies. Crying babies. Also, everyone seems to think red velvet cupcakes are a secret weapon.

I think all your food pictures are creepy.

There, I said it.

The world is my teacher

Today I learned how Dippin' Dots are made.

Life is not fair

Why couldn't Bill Cosby die instead of Richard Pryor?

Mature means

Tears for Fears doesn't make me uncomfortable anymore. Now I feel empowered.

Nobody gets to have fun

Every time I don't finish the RedEye crossword puzzle, I hate myself a little more.

So Wife Swap...

I've only been reading about season finales today and it's making me want to cry. And the lost season finale would have made me cry, but it was kind of irritating and the only character on that show that could ever bring me to tears is Ben. But they didn't concentrate on Ben enough, so it didn't happen. And did I mention I've been reading about and reliving season finales all day. Dan died. Rosanne made it up because reality was so horrible. Bob Newhart was dreaming. Klinger stayed. HOLY SHIT 6 Feet Under. Let's not talk about St. Elsewhere. I feel so detached. I don't want to finish watching Buffy. It's been my life preserver. ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE. And now I wonder, how did The Shield end?

Your dark mistress has returned

I like it when the dads cry on Wife Swap.

What does a gift horse's mouth look like?

I got 2 bagels with my Panera order, instead of one! The second was hidden under the soup container! I didn't want two though, I wanted one. If I had known about the second bagel, I wouldn't have eaten the first. Or maybe I shouldn't have eaten the first bagel on the car ride back to work. The second bagel was the better bagel.

Who am I?

I'm tired of candy for breakfast.

Can't stop thinking about him

Convinced I need this:

http://cgi.ebay.com/1981-MORRIS-THE-CAT-MORRIS-ON-MORRIS-CALENDAR_W0QQitemZ290422150650QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item439e8255fa

Ways I DON'T want Lost to end

1. Dinosaur attack
2. As just a dream in this dog's head:

3. Something that has to do with magnets

Eating it anyway

There is no reason for this sour patch kid to be wet, straight out of the package.

All my ideas for making money in one fun list!

1. Selling my soiled underwear online
2. Starting a website featuring pictures of me seductively smoking - pay to view!

Sister Christian explained

From Wikipedia:
Sister Christian
Origin and meaning

"It was written and sung by the band's drummer, Kelly Keagy, for his sister. It was the band's biggest hit, peaking at number five on the Billboard Hot 100.[1]

The song is about Keagy's little sister, Christy. Keagy wrote the song at his apartment, near Divisadero and California streets in San Francisco, after he had just returned from a visit to his hometown of Eugene, Oregon. He had been struck at how fast his teenaged sister, 10 years younger than he, was growing up.

"After we started playing it a lot, Jack turned to me and said, 'What exactly are you saying?' " Keagy recalled. "He thought the words were Sister Christian, instead of Sister Christy, so it just stuck." He added that the real Christy was so mortified when the song came out she nearly changed her name.[2]

The lyric, "You're motoring. What's your price for flight? In finding Mr. Right?" is the subject of much debate. The band stated in a VH-1 Behind the Music interview[3] that the term "motoring" was synonymous with the term "cruising." The term is most often used to describe driving around in a car slowly as a social experience, but can also be used to describe picking up people for casual sex. When Keagy visited his family he heard second hand about his sister cruising for a man to casually sleep with. After verifying this with her he was shocked and lamented how fast she was growing up. He then went back home and wrote "Sister Christian" about the experience. This song is sometimes incorrectly called, Motorin'."

I feel so helpless

I'm overhearing a conversation in the other room, and a woman can't think of the the band who sings Sister Christian, or even the name of the song. The band is Night Ranger. The song is not Motorin'! It's not Motorin'! You won't find it through Google if you search that!

This one time I was a secretary for 6 weeks

From the Livejournal archives: "Today I installed a filter for my boss's Blackberry e-mail. Apparently, he's been getting 400 e-mails a day that 'even a murderer couldn't look at.'"

Let me elaborate.

"Kelly, I need to stop these e-mails from coming into my Blackberry, I mean, this is really ridiculous, I'm getting 20 e-mails a minute. I can't function like this. I don't know what e-mails to read anymore. Call T-Mobile and complain. Why are they sending these e-mails to me? Ridiculous."

Basically he wanted me to yell at T-mobile till they became the internet and deleted all spam. I found this terrifying because A. I don't like calling strangers B. I don't like yelling at people for no reason and C. I don't totally understand Blackberries or their e-mail, so what he was telling me to do could have been exactly what needed to be done.


As was my understanding, T-Mobile was not his e-mail service, it was his phone service, and they just allowed whatever office mail he received to go to his Blackberry inbox.I had a feeling yelling at innocent T-Mobile employees to change his internetz inbox was not the correct answer.

He might as well of asked "Kelly, can you drive to united_billharris@yahoo.com.hk's house, hold a gun to his dog's head, and tell him that I sent you and that this is for that motherfucking Viagra message before you blow his pooch's brains all over the living room carpet?" or "Kelly, can you travel through time and meet each e-mailer at a crucial point in his or her life and direct them to a mysterious island where they will play as pawns in an omniscient being's karmic game, instead of send me trash e-mails?" or just "Kelly, can you travel through the computer on a golden unicorn across the sea of bandwidth and do battle with each unwanted e-mail to protect the honor of my in-box?"

After summoning 3 out of 7 of my animal spirits, calmly calling T-Mobile, being put on hold, and getting told that what he was asking for was bizarre and impossible, the customer service rep suggested I try installing an e-mail filter and directed me to a lovely program. While the e-mail filter didn't stop all the spam - Bossman was still complaining, I like to think it helped some.

Blocked words: penis; mortgage; sluts; teenage; teens; horny; pills; bestiality; twin towers; cock; cocks; dick;dicks, Valium; fuck; fucked; fucking; fvcked; cum; cumming; hardcore; debt; pussy; cunt; xanax; Paris Hilton

Big Dog

This house is clean.

THE APARTMENT HAS BEEN SPRAYED FOR BUGS.

In other news:

THE LANDLORD DOES NOT THINK WE HAVE A BUG INFESTATION.

Dear America, Leslie has bedbugs or why I can't have nice things

"Can I iron this couch?"

Les asked me that because intense heat kills bedbugs. He can't sleep in his bed - he has bedbugs. So he slept in the living room on the antique couch I got from a friend's grandmother(RIP), sweetly nestled in his possibly bug infested childhood blanket, surrounded by garbage bags full of clothing.

No, you can't hot iron satin, friend. It melts.

Leslie has informed me that there is a bedbug epidemic in Chicago, but I'm not sure it isn't localized entirely in his bedroom. Unfortunately, according to the internet - he's right. There was a recent article in the Trib, and there's a website called Chicago Vs. bedbugs.

I am completely humorless on the subject of my house being infested with bedbugs. They will attack every material object I have obtained, force me to wash all my possessions in one exhausting day and cover my home in chemicals. Bedbugs can live a year to a year and a half without feeding. Bedbugs are tiny, and hard to spot. You have to hunt them, stalk their feeding ground (your bed at night, you)looking for their waste or their skin husks. They will bite you and your cat, then lay eggs that will hatch more biters and skin shedders and arbitrarily bury themselves in belongings till they've buried themselves in everything.

Just the thought is anxiety inducing, irritating, frustrating. It makes me angry. Why did this happen? Who the fuck gets bedbugs? This shouldn't be happening to me! This isn't my problem. Why is this my problem? Fuck! The Tanya Harding of life has knocked out my knee with a lead pipe. WHY ME, GOD, WHY ME?

Then mid pity party, a little voice in my head says, "Ah ha ha! You had this coming. All the bullshit you own is covered in parasites, and deserves to be covered in parasites. You don't need so many vintage dresses - I don't care how beautiful and haunted looking they are! You don't need all those clothes, those records and furniture that you think is so lovely and necessary. All they gather are wretched bugs. All your possessions have brought you nothing but irritation and they will rot in landfills for centuries - unnecessary junk, garbage, crap, everything you hate."

I believe the voice is right. If I didn't have these things, bed bugs wouldn't be so horrible. There wouldn't be mountains of clothes to clean, furniture to fumigate. I could even throw whatever meager, worthless possessions I have away. So long, bugs! Why do I feel the need to amass cold, senseless objects? I've bought into the system of consumerism. For example, that g.d. car. If I didn't have a car, I wouldn't have to work a job I hate to pay for it. I am a slave to the cycle, and if I rid myself of these things, and the urge to possess them, finally I would be happy, maybe even free. Free!

I believe the voice is right...for like 10 seconds.

I bought a bunch of stuff with stupid money from my stupid job, but that's what I did, and there's nothing wrong with the desire to keep what I bought safe. I like collecting things! I like listening to music! Sometimes I like spending my money, choosing what I put in my house. I choose wrought iron bed frame! I choose parasol umbrella! I get joy from looking at that antique couch - I love the carved flowers on the wooden frame, the silky mauve fabric covered with shiny gold and cream colored flowers. It's art, it's functional, and it was free! FRRREEEEEEEEEEE!

Who's to say these possessions won't help me do something great, something I love. Who says they don't bring me real joy? They do! Objects are not a life sentence. Neither are bedbugs. It's okay to like things. And I do like things. And I like them the most when they are bug-free.

Thank you Friday

Lady Gaga + lady jail + poison + great hair everyone =

http://www.ladygaga.com/player/default.aspx?meid=5599

Between us

I didn't really enjoy McQueen's last show. I thought it was only okay.

It's that kind of afternoon

One time I was a secretary for 6 weeks

The big cheese at work was a younger guy, maybe in his late 30s - mid 40s. He seemed very tense all the time (which a coworker alluded to being the result of cocaine for breakfast). He was nice to me. He was intense and at times almost apologetic with his requests, no matter what they were. "Kelly, (deep pause) I need you to do something for me, ah, please. In my personal fridge, in my office...there is some baloney...and there should be some mustard. There is a loaf of white bread in the break room...I am so hungry. Please make me a sandwich. I'm very busy right now, and I need to eat, I'm not feeling well. It doesn't have to be fancy, I just need it ASAP, I'm getting dizzy. Thank you so much." I was fine with making my boss a sandwich. It was way more interesting than the filing I wasn't bothering to do. But I can't stand when someone in a position to fire me acts pitiful.

The head bossman had a brother, Carl, and he was a bit of a sleaze. Before the other secretary quit, she told me that he spent company money on strippers. She also said someone caught The Brothers Pervert with a dominatrix in the office over a 3-day Fourth of July weekend. Oh, and the secretaries they hired before me were usually aspiring playmates. Before they hired me, they started to figure that maybe hiring on those credentials wasn't working so well, and decided to switch tracks and go with educated and homely, but still busty.

I'm not sure what Carl's job actually was. He was equivalent to the office dog in terms of what he did - wander around, make noise, and bother me for attention. I'm glad I didn't have to take him on walks, although he probably would have loved to be at the end of a leash I was holding.

In my wise old age, I now know that the Carl was flirting with me when he said "Wow, you like Robert Mitchum? We should talk movies more..." and "Hey, you should really come out for a drink with us after work some time." I thought he was just being weird. My favorite pass came after I re-booked a flight for him. (It was actually quite a hairy situation - I had sit on a three-way call for 45 minutes while I listened to a booking website rep and an airline rep duke it out over some unresolved prices... they'd been at each other's throats for months! The airline rep was all "YOU again!") Carl was ever so grateful for my trouble. "Wow, cute and smart. Kelly, you're so great to me. Thanks so much for booking me that flight." What could I do but modestly reply, "Well, Carl, it's my job." Because it was my job. He was in London and insisted on buying me a drink when he returned. My drink never came to fruition, however, because he died. Just kidding! I quit before he came back.

I love when Mike Ray said this

"It's Britta, Bitch."

"All the world is queer save thee and me and even thou art a little queer'"

I was last minute shopping at Target on Christmas Eve. My ingenious gift plan: buy my step dad some thermal socks. He snowblows the pavement, it's cold outside, feet get cold - why not get him super socks? Practical. Something you may not get for yourself. Well done, Kelly, great idea! Bravo!

At Target, I could not find thermal socks. Wool socks, nylon socks, cotton socks - where were the thermal socks? By the shovels? I saw a man stocking underwear. Surely, he would know all about socks.

And he did know about socks, and so, so much more.

K: Excuse me, do you know where the thermal socks are?

Man: THERMAL SOCKS? Well let me tell you, I had a woman ask me about thermal socks two days ago, and I know we used to have thermal socks, but we don't have 'em this year. I don't know why we don't have them. Follow me.

We revisit the sock aisle, so he can scan the socks and confirm what he found out two days ago.
M: No thermal socks. Nope. But you know what? You could probably get some wool socks; those are pretty thick. What did you want them for?

K: I want to give them to my step dad for when he shovels (suddenly shoveling is somehow more honorable than the truth - snowblowing - and I want to impress this stranger with my step dad's old fashioned work ethic). It's cold out there!...you know?...all that shoveling out in the cold... (please read with lame enthusiasm)

M: This isn't cold.

And here's where I know I'm not leaving the store for at least another 45 minutes. The following is a crude summary. I can't remember everything, and I certainly can't begin to convey the manic gusto with which he delivered his monologue.

M: I was in the Korean War, before your parents were even born! The temperatures there would be way below freezing. There were no thermal socks! And they issued us leather boots...do you know what happens when you get leather wet!?

K: It shrinks?

M: It shrinks! Men lost their feet in those shoes. This isn't cold! And the summers. The burning hot summers 105, 110 degrees. You'd get thirsty and so dry out there. Before we'd enter the desert, we'd pick up a pebble from the ground, clean it off, and put it in our mouths. You do that and you'll never get thirsty! Two days I didn't drink water. And I was fine, didn't even want it! They tell you to drink water now, everyone is tellin' you to drink water, but you know what? (grabs my jacket cuffs) You don't need it. You don't need to drink that much water. I never drink water. I don't drink coffee or pop either. I don't drink juice. I drink milk! I drive the boys in the store room crazy 'cuz I can do more push-ups than them. And I only have one kidney. I only eat twice a day, too. Three meals a day, they say. Three squares a day. I only need two.

K: Wow, which one do you skip?

M:(pauses a beat) Breakfast.

This "conversation" goes on for a bit longer, in the sock aisle. The sock aisle is very small by the way. It's really more of a sock island interrupting the sea of men's pajamas. Here's some "highlights":
- In the army they make you turn your brown leather boots black, but they don't tell you how to do it. The trick is matches.
- Something about the war in Iraq.
- Woman don't belong in combat.
- His daughter works with him.

Eventually, I shake his hand, thank him for his service (in the war and in Target) and head off in the opposite direction of whatever way he walked. I collect myself in women's clothing. Then I realize I forgot the socks and mill around in the pajama section until I think it's safe to go back to the socks. I got the wool ones.

Hate this blog

This one right here.

i want to eat a jar of olives

me: johnny got a costco card
Merrick: NOOO
me: all i want to buy from costco is cases of redbull
coca cola in bottle
and cin toast crunch
Merrick: WE go to costco together
not u and him
me: i have not been there with him
i just give shopping input
sugar amphetamine water and cereal
i go to costco with you
Merrick: ok good

Birds at work

There's some new finch babies in the aviary at my work. I do not work at a zoo. An aviary in your business is like tropical fishtank 3.0.

These finches are rare, and babies in captivity are more rare. There are two babies. They will grow bright feathers when they're 6 months. Now they're laying low in some muted greens.


Too Cute! They look so squeezable!They were hanging out at the bottom because some jerk bird was picking at them up top.

Jerk.

This is the only time I saw my favortite top secret canary out. They're eating egg yolk.
They don't know - soylent yolk is birds!

I love this canary.

Don't say I never did anything for you

John Mayer

In regards to his Playboy interview:

I was most surprised to find out that he used the term "Benetton heart" and that he knew who David Duke was.

One time I was a secretary for 6 weeks

The first week I shared an office with an ex-sorority girl who liked to binge drink. I liked Krystal because she was sassy and confident. She told me gossip and said the guys we worked for were creeps and on my first Friday, she went down to give Pam the rent check and never returned.

I knew she wasn't coming back, but I didn't know why she didn't give two weeks. She left her belongings -snack stash, track jacket, sweater, a couple pictures, because she didn't want to make it clear she had walked out. I agreed not to say anything.
Krystal dropped the check at 10:30 and in 15 minutes she wasn't back. One of our bosses Matt asked about her. "Where's Krystal?"
"Oh, she took the rent check downstairs a little bit ago."
"She's not back yet?"
"No, maybe shes talking with Pam."

At 11:00, Matt asked for Krystal again.
"She's not back yet???"
I shrugged.
"Did she say she was leaving?"
"No."
"Maybe she went to get lunch. This is weird. I'm going to call her. If she's getting lunch anyway, then she can bring me back something."

11:05
"No answer! This is so weird! Where is she? Her stuff is here. Where did she go?"
Matt was already kind of high strung, so it didn't take long for him to start getting annoying.
"Can you try calling her, this is really weird. WHAT IS GOING ON?"
I tried calling her.
"Hey Krystal, Matt is looking for you...yeah, he doesn't understand what's going on. It's funny....I won't say anything. Bye."

11:15
"Did you get a hold of her?"
"No Matt, sorry."
"Did she quit? Why did she leave her stuff here? I think she quit."
"I don't know. It would be really weird for her to quit like that. Maybe she just took a long lunch. I'll let you know if I hear from her." I enjoyed being being comforting and clueless.

11:20
"Have you heard from her?"

11:30
"Why would she just walk out. She's missing out on two days pay? I DON'T UNDERSTAND."

11:35
To Matt: "I don't think Krystal would really do that. It just seems so weird. She's probably taking a long lunch."
To Krystal: "Hi Krystal... he's still looking for you. He's really frantic...Ha ha ha, well, good luck to you."

12:00
"Well she's not getting her last two days of pay. Why did she just leave? Why didn't she give any notice?"
"I don't know, Matt. That is weird. I hope nothing happened to her. Maybe she'll turn up this afternoon."

Sometimes I really really really enjoy them

The comments for this Steely Dan song are so dope right now.

I love Bad Girls

All kinds!




I like the first season of Bad Girls Club. I like the movie with 4 Bad Girls who are outside the law in the old west (wearing period clothing!). Recently I discovered more Bad Girls to love. And the characters live in one of my favorite bad girl places of all time....LADY JAIL!

Uh, fictional Lady Jail, of course. Fictional Lady Jail is tough, sexy, full of camaraderie and great hair cuts.

I've only seen 3 episodes of this show, all out of order, but I'm hooked!

http://www.badgirls.co.uk/

Update

This afternoon's conference call went fine. I didn't even touch myself.

Conference calls

make me nervous! I can't see anyone's face. I can't read their eyes. How am I being received??? Conference calls also make me bored. If I'm on a conference call, I always shut my office door. Then, odds are that while I'm on the phone with you, I'm nervously clutching at my genitals and trying not to wish I was dead.

Genius can be so lonely

The Net. My beloved was kind enough to check out the public library's VHS copy. There was actually quite a wait for it. And yet no one I knew cared to watch it with me. So, here is what I love about this movie, and possibly what the creep who checked this out before me loves about it.

1. Sandra Bullock. Once upon a time I said she was my favorite actress because she was so perfectly mediocre. One should understand that to call her perfect is actually inaccurate because to be perfectly mediocre, she'd have to be mediocre at being mediocre. But she was better than mediocre, so she wasn't the perfect example of mediocre, so that means she actually WAS the best at being mediocre. She was great to watch - a likable and capable actress in unremarkable roles that she executed perfectly. Just delightfully bland and comfortable, like a blissful hour of sitting still in your own tepid bathwater.

2. I find the computer screens and commands to be refreshingly accurate. And in the flashes of DOS command screens, I think I saw Crystal Castles.

3. Angela is not saved by a man, and she ends up alone.

4. Angela does smart stuff!

5. The evil British man says "clever girl."

6. Remember when Dennis Miller was in movies? Yeah? He's in this one.

7. Angela's clothes suck and she is always showing off her mid-drift.

8. Carnival chase scene! There's a merry-go-round! Love 'em! Ooh, remember The Crush? And what's that other campy thriller...Strangers on a Train.

9. This movie is still relevant today! As Angela Bennett says, "Just think about it. Our whole world is sitting there on a computer. It's in the computer, everything: your, your DMV records, your, your social security, your credit cards, your medical records. It's all right there. Everyone is stored in there. It's like this little electronic shadow on each and everyone of us, just, just begging for someone to screw with, and you know what? They've done it to me, and you know what? They're gonna do it to you."

This too, can be yours

http://www.etsy.com/shop/COZYHORSE

Just lovin' that dog's head wrapped in a blanket.

No line on the horizon?

It's not Chicago if I don't hear U2 on the radio within 20 minutes, every 20 minutes.

Lessons I have to keep on learning

Don't pick ingrown hairs till they've matured. Premature ingrown hairs are the gift that keeps on giving, but the gift is puss. Let it go.

Legitimate question

Are humans the only animals that hate themselves?