YET ANOTHER LIST

It has been pointed out to me there are many things I like (or don't) that others just can't agree with. Naturally, I made a list. You will not be suprised to find the 'don't' list longer than the 'do'. My glass is half empty, only boring people get bored, up with people, blahblahblah. Read it or don't, I couldn't care less.

DON'T LIKE:
tater tots
children singing
people whistling
anything strawberry flavored
Seinfeld, Friends, Something About Mary, Supersize Me
most of Jim Carey's movies
Thanksgiving dinner
flan
creme brulee
water rides
buffalo wings
olives
eggs
corn, carrots, pickles & peas
Nirvana and Pearl Jam
shrimp and prawns
any sports, ever, at all.
the movie Gladiator, Russel Crow is an unatractive ass.
not a big fan of fresh fruit, or ice cream, or ketchup.
warm summer days
the beach, (3 words, sand. in. crack.)
hot tubs
reality shows

DO LIKE:
black licorice, anything anise flavored, even Nyquil isn't all that bad.
ginger, raw or otherwise
bread dough, also raw
Tiny Tim
apple pie covered in cheddar cheese
the smell of gasoline
listening to recorded messages on the phone
the city over the country side any day!
shopping malls
Little House on the Prairie
rain
bagpipes
accordion music
flossing
bitter dark chocolate
showers vs. baths? SHOWERS WINS!
fruitcake
tofu in any format, yummy.

THERE YOU HAVE IT, THE ULTIMATE SELF INDULGENCE, DO YOU CARE? PROBABLY NOT.
ME EITHER.
MAY YOUR GLASS BE HALF FULL OF SOMETHING YOU LIKE.

C&C PART 3

Now we get to the meat of things.
1) wash underwear.
2) hide make-up.
3) stop being fat.
4) get job, work long enough to rid self of dignity, get married.
any questions?

LAUNCH THE ESCAPE GOAT!

More tales from the bus.

Man on cel phone: " Dude! She was totally using you as an escape goat!!"

A group of camp fire girls and boy scouts, about fifteen in all, SINGING. Standing-room-only-90-degrees-out-side-w/no-air-conditioning-sitting-in-traffic-bus, and children are singing.
Kill me now.
The adult "troop leaders" were directing them to do it, conducting them like big band leaders " THANK YOU MISTER BUS DRIVER! BUS DRIVER ! BUS DRIVER! "
I re-adjusted my headphones and cranked up The Scissor Sisters 'Tits on the Radio' to no avail.
Dude, where's an escape goat when you need one?

IT'S 2005, DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR CHILDREN ARE?

While spending some time at a mall today, I was hit with a thought, and a memory.
1979, First day of 7th grade. We were assigned a 'getting to know you' kind of thing with questions like what's your favorite food? Do you have any pets? What TV shows do you like?
Sitting next to me was a known bully named Dodie. Girl bullies are far worse than boy bullies, girls will spend time with you psyching you out to make you feel like crap about yourself. Boys just hit each other and walk away. Dodie was looking at my answers, cheating, I thought rather smugly, till she laughed out loud at me and made me change my favorite TV show from Laverne and Shirley to Three's Company.
My point here is peer pressure, and by the looks of the stores and catalogues I've seen lately, I'm glad I grew up when I did.
Now if you're 9-12 years old you're labled a TWEEN and marketed to agressively and obnoxiously.
Everything is pink and purple, covered in glitter and modeled by the likes of Jessica Simpson, Lindsey Lohan, and the Olsen twins ( who have yet to prove oddsmakers right with the OLSENS DO DALLAS.)
Very few companies use actual tweens to model what they sell to them. If I had a child I would do my best to help her,( or him ) see that this is NOT what women look like, or should look like. An uphill battle I'm glad I won't be fighting. Well, not much anyway. When The Disney Store catalogue featured a pink bathroom scale with PRINCESS painted on it in sparkly glitter, I blew up.
They got a letter from me that would have made Dodie seem like, well, a Princess.
I guess it's a battle worth fighting.

MORE FROM 'CHARM AND CHARISMA, A PERSONAL GUIDE'

Maybe if you'd started this process in 1974 you'd have sucessfully put on and removed your coat by now, maybe not.
(click on photos for larger view.)

MORE TV BLAB
This is the last one for awhile, I promise.
I am just soooo very happy! LOGO is airing the ENTIRE season of Wonderfalls!!! YAYAYAYAY!! For those that are wonder-ing, Wonderfalls was a sadly short lived show that Fox ( in their infinate tastelessness) cancelled after 4 episodes even though a whole season was made. No wannabe models voting each other off of something, no 'actual footage' of Joe Redneck getting arrested in his underwear, no ratings.
Thank You LOGO! Even if you did photoshop strapless bras over all the boobs in Showgirls. The resulting effect was weirder and more distracting than the original movie with nipples.
Far more effort, I'm sure, than it was worth for that particular film.
Anyhoo, Hooray for Wonderfalls!

HIS FRIENDS CALL HIM ED

Found on a bus stop bench in Seattle. When I first saw this, I again, had no camera with me. I went back with a camera today, and there was an old man sitting on the bench waiting for the bus. Not having the heart or the stomach to ask him to move so I could take a picture of the dick he was sitting on, I waited. He caught his bus, I got my photo.
Art or in this case ORT is where you find it.

THE 'HARM' IN CHARMING

Following are a couple of pages from the completely useless yet incredibly amusing
Charm and Charisma, a Personal Guide published in 1974. I found this book with a friend of mine while shopping for used books. THANK YOU SHELLY!
I've read it cover to cover and feel I now have more charisma. Also, I've learned if I get drunk and my wig falls off, I should just let it go.

CRYING AGAIN, DAMMIT.

I really don't want to make this blog a fan forum, however, some shows really do deserve it so...
Just finished watching the series finale of Six Feet Under, what a freaking great show!!! I know, I know, this is probably the fouteenth thousandth blog to talk about it. I have never cried as hard at TV as...ooops spoiler for people like Chris who are THREE SEASONS BEHIND. They could do sad and funny without being meat-handed or sappy about it, sheer genius.
R.I.P. favorite show, may you be remembered fondly in many, many reruns.

SEEN

While out & about today with Chris, we walked by a woman who compelled me to blog on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
She looked like a dark haired Pam Anderson, fake boobs, teeny-tiny sculpted abs, ( OK, I'm bitter ) goopy silvery lipgloss and a perfect tanning bed/spray on tan. Her shirt was a tiny cropped tee with rhinestone letters stretched over her siliconed chest that read:
I AM NECESSARY.
Maybe that's her name.

DREAM INTERPRETATION: I'm insane.

I always remember my dreams. Unfortunately, these usually consist of people chasing me through unfamiliar houses with guns and knives, or not being able to find Disneyland, or a spider crawling up my nose to save me from my dead grandmother. My latest favorite has me working in some kind of diner as a bad waitress serving bad food badly. Two guys sitting at one of my tables ask "what's in a rum and Coke?" I explained this ususally consists of rum, Coke, ice and a slice of lime. Pleased with my description, they each ordered one. I walked back to the diners kitchen and then.... I woke up. My first thought, and the feeling that stayed with me all morning was " damn, now these guys will never get their drinks!"

a small sampling from my sketch book. It was spring and I was filled with the Easter spirit.


PEEPING






THEY PLAN.....

PUFFY LITTLE BRAS

I have big boobs. This as with all things, carries with it joy and sorrow. My tits have had better times at parties than I did. They got me alot of attention in Junior High and High school. My boobs have been a part of who I am since I was 10 years old, but they weren't always DD's, at first I thought I was dying of cancer. Fine, laugh if you must, but no one else in my 4th grade class had bumps on their chest so I figured my time was up. Miraculously, I was cured by a trip with my mom to the lingere department at Sears. I was on the fast train to jiggle town. Wheee.
Unfortunately, Victorias Secret is that having actual breasts precludes you from being able to by bras in her store. The Itty Bitty Titty Committee has a lock on the pretty, non-utlitarian eye patch & ribbon confections they sell.
Stores like Lane Bryant and even Nordstrom are carrying larger hard to find sizes now. They're not as cheap as the wee bras, but it's a start.
Would I go for a breast reduction? Nope. But I would try to talk a small chested woman out of getting implants? Hell yes! Unless you grew up with 'em they ain't family.

MEAT OF HUMAN KINDNESS

After reading over my posts so far, I'm reminded of something my friend Suzy said to me during one of my louder nastier rants against people in general and, well, people in specific. "Angie, you are the milk of human kindness."
She was being sarcastic, but it shut me up for awhile, congratulations Suzy.
Since I like lists, here's yet another list :
Things I like: lists, Disneyland, dark chocolate cake, tea, cheese (any kind), the color orange, my friends, my friends kids, steak (med. rare), sketching, my house, jewelry, my dear husband Chris. (not necessarily in that order).

There, now back to our regularly scheduled bitchiness.

BAM? SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Emeril and Billy Mays. shhhhhh. Indoor voices please. For the love of god it's a clean shirt. It's an appetizer. Someday you'll go for a walk and be attacked by killer bees. You'll scream and yell. No one will help you.

GUTLESS SONS-A-BITCHES

There was an ad on tv yesterday for 'Shallow Hal', the movie with Jack Black and Gwenneth Paltrow... Brave, brave Gwenny, all 95 pounds of her encased in foam rubber. Apparently, if an actress wants to "reach" or prove her "emotional depth" Fat is the new blind. Fat is the new Rainman.
There are many instances of this on movies and tv, but 'Hal' stands out.
At first I liked the movie, being a fan of Jack Black, but then Gwenny breaks a chair, eats half a cake with her hands, and empties the pool with a belly flop. HAHAHA.
Being a fat girl myself, I know these are things I do every day. How about you?
Thank god Jack was given the magical altruistic ability to see beyond the horrible debilitating ugliness the overweight are cursed with to the REAL beauty inside. Thin.
What if the spell made him see all black people as white?
Don't tell me that's different, I know better.

SEATTLE, A LOVE-HATE THING
I wish I had the foresight to carry a camera so I didn't have to describe this. The photo would've been poigniant and artistic and said so much more. You might even have cried a little. sniff.

Picture it: a typical mid-level income Seattle home. Craftsman Bungalow with the regulation environmentally correct semi-brown lawn. Under a huge tree sits an old home espresso maker, (you know, the one that makes a cup at a time) all by itself except for a small computer printed sign that said "FREE".
I used to own one alot like it about 15 years ago. My roommate and I used it so much we eventually broke it and I got an ulcer from all the coffee. I drink tea now.
I've lived in this area all my life with the exception of 6 rather hellish months in San Diego. Another story for another time.
Here's another list to read. I like lists.

It's true you can't swing a cat here without knocking over someones nonfat-extra foamy-half-caff-with-two-Splendas latte.

Theres far too many holy shrines to camping masquerading as department stores ( R.E.I. , EDDIE BAUER..etc..)

If you read nothing else on my blog, HEED THESE WORDS, NO ONE SHOULD WEAR WOOL SOCKS WITH BIRKENSTOCK SANDALS. EVER.
There oughtta be a law.

Way too much khaki.

It doesn't rain all that much. We just say that to keep people from moving here. In fact right now its so fucking hot I am wishing our fridge had the freezer on the bottom so I could sit in it.
It also sadly doesn't snow much more than once every other year or so. Snow is a beautiful thing, so is watching the local news when it does snow here. One intrepid reporter
used the words "god forsaken wasteland." I honor your process, mister reporter. However I do believe the snow should be at least half an inch deep before actual wastelands can be announced. It's a laugh riot worth missing a day at work for.

I've noticed people that do move to Seattle from other cities tend to bitch alot about how polite and quiet people are here. You heard me, complaints about lack of rudeness. Ok, once again, process honored and all, and oh yes, bite my ass. Do you feel better now?
I used to work for a woman who moved here from the Bronx several years before. She would always talk about how much more "real" everything was there, the food was better, theater was better and how she actually missed people being rude and really loud every where you went...BLAHBLAHBLAH.
I asked her why she didn't take her son and move back there?
She replied the New York is no place to raise a child.
There you have it.

PEOPLE JUST LIKE YOU RIDE METRO

That was an actual, short lived ad campaign for the Metro bus system in the 80's.

...and here's a small sampling of stuff seen, smelled, and overheard riding the bus everywhere for 20 years in Seattle.

1-Woman talking to herself:
"send all the garbage men to Jupiter. Get rid of them!"

2-Two girls talking to each other:
"and he was all like oh my god, and I was like, no way, and then it was like I can't even like belive it, but they were all like, you like know, like all like, yeah, I'm not like kidding, it was like all like...
at this point a scary looking homeless man got up, walked down the isle to their seat, and leaned in close to their freaked out little faces. He twiched and spit as he screamed, "LIKELIKELIKELIKELIKELIKELIKE!!!!!" then got off the bus.
The girls looked at each other , blink. blink. blink.
"so we were all like yeah ? and he said Like I like even like care, and I'm all like, yeah like..."
Scary homeless man, you are my hero. Even if it didn't like, work.

3-Only one guy jacking off. Only one.

4-A man so very extremely high that he failed to notice his pants rapidly filling with diarrhea as he exited the bus. From the back seat. During rush hour.

Yes, people just like you ride metro. I wonder if he was disappointed because no one else on the bus that day shit their pants.

MY ASS HURTS

I got a vitamin B shot today for the first time. It hurt and my buttcheek smells like a stinky tree hugging hippie.
I think it's working.

ALL OUT OF GRANDPARENTS


This has been a year of death for my family. My last two living grandparents died within a few months of each other, leaving pain and drama of different kinds.
I didn't know my dads mom all that well. She treated my mom like crap so my brother, sister and I were distanced from that side of the family. Dad never stepped in on either side of the issue, leaving the three of us in the middle of a family tug of war. Grandma never asked to see us during this time, that I know of anyway.
She was my grandmother, I do have some small knowledge and memories of her.
This is what I know:
-She made great carrot cookies.
-Every year she dragged out the same artificial Christmas tree circa 1962. Basically a green stick with matching green bottle brushes attached to it at various angles. Due to her age, and shrinking ability to reach up to decorate, the tree also shrank . She cut it down by a couple of inches at the bottom every year. Last time I saw it, the tree was about four feet tall.
-Despite what my mom says, I believe she did, in fact, have a sense of humor. No sense of irony though. This tended to make her seem dull and squishy to those with a sharp pointy wit.
- She had a very hard life. I hope the next one is easier, Grandma. I really do.

I cannot speak for my siblings, but I am not playing this family tug of war any more.
Your death has taught me this much, so thank you.

My moms dad passed away a couple of months ago, on my moms birthday, a story for another time, maybe.
For now, this is what I know about Grandpa:
-He never cooked anything, except to make pancakes for his grandkids. MONUMENTAL STACKS OF PANCAKES!
GREAT BIBLICAL PILES OF PANCAKES!
THE TOWERING INFERNO OF BREAKFAST!
They were good, and he knew it. He would cook untill our eyes rolled up into the backs of our heads and at least one of us threatened to throw up from overeating. ( for the record, " eat all your pancakes, it'll put hair on your chest!" is not generally considered motivation by a prepubescent girl.)
-He would empty the change out of his pockets into the cushions of his recliner then act suprised when we found it. This led to a few arguments over who would get to "clean the chair". I think this amused him as much as letting us keep the money.
-Everyday objects were given bizzare, completely made up names.
why have an orange when you can have gornjie-gooches
plain old eggs became googies
mere pants? sir, I wear housey-pantses!
Weirdness so deeply ingrained I sometimes find myself blurting out "googies" in front of total strangers like everyone knows I am talking about eggs. At this point, people will look like they are going to stage a telethon to help me get well again.


-I didn't really like you. I wish I had. I wish you'd liked me. I was your first grandchild and you were the only grandpa I really knew. I loved you though, always loved you.

-The last time I saw you I promised I'd come back to visit . I never did.

Your death has taken a chunk out of this family. Mom is scrambling a bit to keep tenuous connections going. I don't think it's working. Maybe we shouldn't even try. Maybe it's too late.
I miss you in a way that feels out of sinc, like a voice that comes half a second after someone moves their mouth to speak.
I think it's time to move forward, try to get back to whatever passes for normal, but I won't forget.
Every time I eat pancakes I think of you.

EVERYBODY ELSE IS DOING IT.


So, here I am. Blogging. I read other peoples blogs, lots of them. Chronicles of fascinating eveyday life. Hell, they're even FAMOUS! Conventions and autographs and hate mail . Thousands of ten year old girls made careful and detailed accounts in 'My Little Pony' diaries about which boy in math class had the best hair. Unknowingly, they prepared for celebrity.
So I guess there are two things you must know at this point.
I never kept a diary, and right now my life is about as exciting as watching cheese go bad.
Nonetheless... my ego is bloated and old. I need attention. Even if it's just hate mail.