Whoa.....

Does anyone else grow during the day? I have noticed that when I put on my jeans in the morning- they are comfortable. By 3:00, I am uncomfortable. By 5:00 I am unbuttoning the top button. What the hell? Do my boobs grow too? Again, bra fits in the morning, not so much in the afternoon. But my socks (when I wear them) are never too small by the end of the day. Why is it that the places that people notice are so much more noticeable at the end of the day? Anyone? Bueller?

Quirky or REAL?

I don't keep a sparkling clean house, I pee in the shower (doesn't EVERYONE?), and during winter months, I will go an alarmingly long time between leg shaves. I suppose there are a lot of habits that I have that I think make me easy going- other people may think I am either retarded or strung out on some type of heavy narcotic. Some people call me quirky....I think I am REAL. I don't pluck my eyebrows until the one maniacal eyebrow hair has become so long it actually impairs my vision. I have been known to wear my slippers to Target. I am unashamedly ill concerned with what people think of me. Well...not entirely true. That's the mantra of an overweight, smart girl speaking! I don't wash my jeans until I have spilled something on them (this could go weeks and weeks). I NEVER floss my teeth. I am addicted to stupid reality television (it's not really stupid, right?) I have quit going to the gym and accepting that I will likely always wear granny panties (if any at all) which lose their elasticity because I wash ALL my clothes together in a warm permanent press cycle. When I have a really loud belch, I laugh at myself. I wonder what my neighbors think? I am NOT a crazy cat lady (okay, a little bit I am). These are the little quirks that make me AWESOME.

I have an unhealthy addiction to Survivor. Thank God Bret Michaels found love, or I would likely need to seek help for the addiction to Rock of Love! I will break a date or engagement for a basketball game. I am becoming more comfortable with the fact that I have dunlap's disease: my belly done lapped over my undies. I have a lot of tee- shirts with inexplicable stains on them- could be butter- could be beer..who knows! The point is, that while I am filled with many, many "quirks", I am still on the open market. I am still single- imagine that. I am not sure if it's because I don't want ANYONE to touch me when I am sleeping (seriously, who spoons?) or if it's because I am so lazy that I will wait until my bladder is having spasms before I pee. And while I am peeing, I am wondering how much time people spend in their entire lives on the toilet? I don't go to the gym because......see previous sentence and you will understand my laziness. I have never seen Star Wars (any of them). I am pretty sure that I am more talented and prettier (sans the turkey gaggle and HUGE ass that will never go away- thanks Genetics) than most people in Hollywood.

I could go on for hours...but the point is that though I have many quirks, I am real. I think everyone is a scab picker at heart; and I think that most people will pop a zit in front of the mirror with as much enthusiasm as I do. I really wish that people could let go of all of their pretenses and the need to put on makeup in order to take a shower so we could all learn who the real people of the world are. I wish that people from all over this great, fake land of mine (Hollywierd) would put away their fake eyelashes and would take off their padded bras and just be real. Since when do women wear high heels with jeans.....what is that all about? But these are the dirty little secrets that we all have...so in the infamous words of Rodney King: "can't we all just get along?" All women have forgotten weather they took the last tampon out before putting in the new one- and then panicking about toxic shock syndrome because she realizes that she has put in 2 tampons, right?

Why not a crosswalk?

I think that all of the budgetary issues in Los Angeles would be cured if the police would issue jay walking tickets. I say this, because, I have noticed that many, many, MANY people don't seem to comprehend the idea of a crosswalk.

I wrote about this before, and perhaps this is the same thing. Maybe these are people for whom the rules don't apply. Friday afternoon I was driving westbound on Venice Blvd. Now, let me tell the story of traffic on Friday for those of us who don't live in LA. There is a phenomenon called Friday Light. This means that traffic on the way to work in the morning on any given Friday is AWESOME. But then, after about 2:00, the traffic turns to shit. Everyone leaves work early and a 6 mile route could very well take an hour. There are strange patterns, and perhaps the most frustrating thins is that there is no predictability with traffic.

So, I am traveling west on Venice after lunchtime. I notice all of the cars around me begin to slow down, so I follow suit. I have always been a follower, not a leader! Anyhow, traffic came to a complete halt because Jackass had decided that he needed to cross the street at that particular moment, at that particular place. Mind you, there was a crosswalk about 50 feet down the street. But..this guy needed to stop traffic, in both directions, to cross the street right there. SERIOUSLY? I wanted to just mow him over, but thought better of it. Some of you might think that I would not have plowed into him for fear of blood messing up my new car; but that was not the entire reason I restrained. I remembered when I was 15 and had to take Driver's Ed. They really emphasised the point of not hitting a person. Even though I may be justified, I am not allowed to run anyone over. True- I will swerve and likely cause an accident to avoid a squirrel or a cat in the road, but a person stopping traffic because he needs to cross 4 lanes of Friday traffic at that time.

Another thing I don't understand, and I am hoping someone can help me with- why is there road construction on every road at the same time? Fuck me- seriously- they can't be closing lanes on La Cienega during rush hour (and the most infuriating is that the empty lanes that are blocked off for the alleged road construction....when there is no one there.....) Anyhow- they block off a lane on La Cienega- so I shoot over to Fairfax.....forgetting that it's a one lane road through little Ethiopia. Then I think about going up to Hauser--- a residential street. That's being re-paved. So, I, along with every other Angelino traveling North- end up on La Brea. There are very specific signs which prohibit people from turning left from 4pm to 7pm- yet Jackasses decide that the rules don't apply to them!

When can the rules not apply to me?

A life without John....

It is a sad time in Hollywood, and across the land. We are all in mourning of the passing of the late, great, John Hughes. I say that with a heavy heart, and I can't wait until Allison is out here and we can celebrate the passing of a legend in style- with underpants on our heads, yeagerbombs in our hands, and tears in our eyes!!

John Hughes has passed. I was hoping I would not have to live in a world with the genius that was Mr. Hughes, but here I am. Living in a world without the creator of Ferris Bueller is difficult!! But there is something that I don't understand that I am hoping someone can explain. Michael Jackson had a memorial service at The Staples Center. Seriously folks, downtown LA was in lockdown, because Michael Jackson needed a memorial service at The Staples Center. Where is the memorial service for John Hughes? I have been planning my entire adult life around a 16 candles reunion. I even had it all planned out in my head. Think about it. I think that the Donger married the "new style Amer-ican gir-lfriend" and is living happily ever after. I mean, "Dong has been here for 5 hours, and he's got someone, I live here my entire life, and I am like a disease". Jenny is still married to Rudy, and now they have 2 "oily bow-hunk" kids. And our beloved Sam...what is she doing? Did she marry Jake? I haven't figured that one out yet0-- that is why I need the genius that is John Hughes.

And what about Ferris? Well, more importantly, what happened to Cameron? He was, by far the best character. I named a cat after him once. I want to see good things happen for Cameron...he can't continue to be so tight that if you stick a lump of coal up his ass in two weeks you would have a diamond. Although, that would be a cool trick......

So what about the Breakfast Club? I really wanted to see Anthony Michael Hall come back and kick all their asses. I thought it would be great if the premise of this "sequel" would, of course, be the reunion. I think that Carl, the janitor, would have to be there. But, not as an attendee- more like as a lurker. He would watch from behind the bushes while Claire (now fat) would show up. She and John didn't make it because Bender went on one too many benders. Sporto- well we all knew that he was gay. Maybe he should come in the technicolor dream coat! It was the taping of the buns that really sealed the deal for me.

I really think that there should be a conglomerate remake. I think that a 10 year high school reunion with Ferris, Cameron, Sloane, Gary, Wyatt, Lisa, Clair, Bender, Andrew, Duckie-- OMG- This is a brilliant idea. Seriously- think about it. I think that Del Griffith could be a chaperone. And the music- would be KICKIN'. Let's talk about Journey...they would be the band that plays at the reunion. WOW- this would totally kick my 10 year reunion's ass!!!

Too Serious???

Allison accused me of being too serious in my last few blogs. So, back to the regular irrational, hysterical, but hilarious me!

I haven't blogged lately about reality television. There was a dry spell for a bit. I think that the end of Bret Michael's Tour Bus of Love may have left a little void in my life. I tried to like Daisy of Love, but it just wasn't the same. But alas, REALITY TV is back! OMG- there are a couple of shows that I need to tell you about.

First of all- The Bachelorette. Okay, this is not a new concept, but seriously...I found it a little hard to empathize with all beautiful people who wanted to find love on TV. REALLY? Where was the fat chick? Where was the "holier than thou" dude? These people were all picked from magazines. I am pretty sure that none of these people really exist in real life. I mean, seriously, if these people, with their six pack abs and perfect teeth can't find love, how am I going to succeed? I mean, I am the average American woman-- I have a muffin top (though no camel toe....at least I hope not); every year I get older I notice more and more whiskers in various parts of my body, and I get stupider. That being said, I am quite a catch. Yet, the "beau-ti-ful peo-ple" (Revenge of the Nerds anyone) can't seem to find love unless they go on a TV show. Hmmm....do you think my muffin top, occasional acne and grey hair spells STAR?

Next, I find myself not understanding why I watch "Hooked" and "River Monsters". Seriously, who would have thought that I would ever watch the same show on two different channels. This is the best idea ever-- total rednecks who like to FISH try to capture the biggest fish ever. On the surface it sounds really boring, but seriously folks- it's like a train wreck. You don't want to admit that you will rubberneck to look!

The next reality show that I have found myself strangely attracted to is "I Didn't know I was Pregnant". I think that the attraction is that of disbelief. Now, most of you know that I have never been pregnant, don't want to be pregnant, nor plan on becoming pregnant (see "The Bachelorette"). I have watched videos of people giving birth, and I have heard the horror stories of pregnancy. Recently, I went to Urgent Care for an infected hang nail. I am supposed to believe that these women didn't know that ANOTHER HUMAN BEING was growing inside of them and they didn't feel anything. Seriously? I feel it when my neighbor farts. But apparently this is a phenomenon that has swept the nation, because there is a reality SERIES called "I didn't know I was pregnant".

Dating in the Dark comes next. Has anyone else seen this show? Apparently the goal is to see if people can find themselves truly attracted to someone without ever seeing that person. They go on dates, all in the dark. I would wear a horn on my head, or at the very least attach a vestigial tail. Okay okay, but I know how to win this game-- attach a third boob to my forehead. Most guys will fall for that one hook line and sinker.

Finally, I can't close this blog without mentioning the tie for first place. Dancing Tweens and Toddler's and Tiara's. Holy shit-- this is the pinnacle that is American reality television. I will begin with Dancing Tweens. These are little kids, like 8 or 9 years old, who COMPETE in ballroom dancing competitions. All I can say is that when I was forced to learn to square dance in 7th grade gym class (my partner was another girl- go figure) I hated every minute of it. I will skip over the obvious question of why they are teaching kids in the 21st century (okay, back then it was the 20th century) to square dance.....at school....in gym..... So I am watching this show and seeing all the little boys who will make wonderful decorators and hair dressers (probably named Preston Brady) when they are older. And these kids are BALLROOM dancing. I can remember when I was about 10- I wanted nothing to do with anything formal. Krista and I played Top Gun, built robots, and skated in our garages. Then, there is the seemingly natural progression to Toddlers and Tiara's. These little girls wear fake hair, fake eyelashes, spray tan, bikini's (these are TODDLERS); fake teeth, fake nails, high heels and makeup applied with a spatula. What the hell are we teaching these girls-- I don't recall there being any math contests, or reading spells--- no- we want to put our future in toddler beauty pageants. I just wonder- why not go all out and give them fake boobs?

What could have been.....

I am 32 years old. 10 years ago...a DECADE....I finally ended the relationship that has defined me. I wonder what life would have been had I not ended that relationship.

I would be a 32 year old grandmother. He had several kids, the first of which was born when he was 15. I am sure that patterns repeat, his mother had him at 17.

I think about what my life would be like. I am 32, living in Colorado. I live in a not so good part of town. I figure that we rent a house or townhouse. It's winter, I have kids (not sure how many) and his oldest son and his son (my step-grandchild) and the baby's mom all live with us. We scrape by each month barely able to pay for the rent on this 3 bedroom hovel. We have no money in the bank. We have terrible credit. I work at a local clothing store, terrible hours but it's consistent work. It pays the bills, barely, and the store is close to the house so I can walk when my husband is with the car. He doesn't work....often. He never graduated from high school, and the DUI's and the violent sexual felony on his record prevent him from landing a job which could support the family in a reasonable way.

We aren't happy. Our life is constant survival mode. We just have to get from one day to the next. I am late at work on a particular evening, and he is furious. I didn't hear the cell phone ringing when he called. I am walking home after the store closes. When I get to the front door of the house, I am relieved that I am home and that I can have a seat after spending the last 10 hours on my feet. He meets me at the door and is furious. I didn't answer my phone. Why not? Who was I with? Who am I fucking? No one thinks I am good looking. I am not better than anyone. No one would ever even talk to me if not for him. Do I think that I can do better? The smell of tequila and marajuana permeates the air between us.

We've had this conversation a million times if we have had it once. I know where this is going, and I know what buttons to push. I walk away, knowing that is a button. He follows me- pulling my arm behind me....how dare I walk away. Who is he? What is his name? There will be bruises in the morning. Thank god the kids are in bed. They have seen this too many times. The argument ensues. We both are engaged in it; both are hooked on it. We do this at least once a month. The frustration never ends.

I could go on and on. This would have been my life if not for a few simple choices. When I was 22 I went to Hawaii with my parents. I know, sounds like a hell of a trip, eh? but it was, because as I sat on the beach in Hawaii and realized that I wasn't being yelled at; I didn't feel bad about myself. I realized that I didn't have to spend my life being treated poorly, abused for lack of a better phrase. I could experience peace, and most importantly, I could PICK peace. I decide what my life is going to become, especially at 22 years old! I was lost within myself for the time I was involved in that relationship. I mistook attention, any attention, for love. I became addicted to the drama, to the highs and the lows. It defined my very being. I lost the strength that I had. I lost the gumption, the individuality, the self respect. I struggle with those losses now, wondering what I would have been if I never met him.

But, I did meet him, and I did allow myself to be in that situation. And, I wouldn't change it. I am a better person for having survived it. I won't allow someone to take the power away from me again and make me feel small, ugly, insignificant. By going through that situation, I learned a lot that one only learns with experience. I learned not to accept an open drink from a guy you don't know. I learned that when you wake up in the morning and don't remember, and then things come to you in a flash-- those things really happened. I learned how many stairs I could be pushed down (or dragged) before bruises would become too large to hide or lie away. I tested the boundaries of my parents and friends, I learned how to hide more than I told. This wasn't someone I wanted to be; I am glad that I am not that person. I may still be damaged, but I don't belong to anyone anymore, and never again. I will be me.

Generation Stupid

I am 32 years old and thrice divorced and I live in a van down by the river.......


Not really. I just wanted to get your attention, and see how many people out there knew where this reference came from. It's funny- good old fashion funny. I have been doing a lot of observation lately, and have come to the dismal conclusion that people under the age of 27 are lost. These are the people who will run the world one day, and they don't even know who Long Duck Dong is. Travesty.

I was talking to a kid who worked for me for a couple of weeks the other day. He's 20. Holy shit- I never felt old until the conversations with him. But then it all became so clear to me, this is why young people are heavily medicated and WEIRD- because they haven't been exposed to the basics. First of all, there are certain movies that have to be watched by all high school students. I thought it was a law, but apparently people graduating from high school this year have not all seen Ferris Bueller (I know, I was just as shocked) and have no idea how FANTASTIC John Hughes was...... it's sad..so very very sad.

These kids also didn't have the grand experience of the first TRUE reality show. Remember when The Real World first aired on MTV (1990 or so). It was revolutionary and it was a lot more real than the shit I see on TV now. What the hell is the Hills all about.....and now the new one about NYC prep school kids. So let me get this straight, here I am, going to work each day and scraping by and these kids in NYC have a reality show because their rich lives of private school and trying to get into better colleges is more interesting than the reality the rest of us live in? And who the hell is Heidi anyway?

Another case in point. This 20 year old had never seen an episode of Cheers! WTF. I mean, how can you lead a meaningful and fulfilling life without Cliffy? How could you not have seen the episode that Cliff goes on Jeopardy? "Who are three people who have never been in my kitchen?" If you get that joke, you are cool for life. And he said that he "didn't get Seinfeld". WHAT? I thought he should be electrocuted for that comment. Who doesn't understand Seinfeld? I mean, seriously-- the Elaine dance? "Like a frightened turtle"..... I could go on and on with Seinfeld-isms. I think that I would be a fucked up person had I not had the wisdom of Kramer and Cliffy to help mold my young mind.

And then there are the movies. OMG, these kids have no idea the genius that is John Hughes. This kid didn't even know who Long Duck Dong is. Isn't that a crime of some sort? I mean, he had no idea what "the Hollywood minute" was on SNL, or who Matt Foley was. These things are so wrong, I just can't wrap my brain around the idea that this kid will be running the world one day. I wonder if my parents felt like this because I didn't watch reruns of Ed Sullivan? Nah, Ed Sullivan vs. Cheers- there is no comparison. The kids today are having to watch movies like Superbad- which, don't get me wrong, was funny...but it was no Revenge of the Nerds. Its a sad state of affairs when I can't go to a Halloween party as Sloth because I think that people won't know who it is! Today, kids watch South Park and think that it is great, but seriously folks, let us not forget the first season of Beavis and Butthead (before thstupid kids started to play frog baseball with REAL frogs)....and the early Simpsons episodes where Smithers was black..... Oh the glory days.

That's not to say that all of my generation are awesome because of the movies and TV that my generation produced....there is the music. Has there ever been anyone to rival Journey? Remember when MTV used to play actual videos-- Steve Perry and his beakish primordial appearance being tough in his tight jeans and sleeveless t-shirt. There is an Icon. Today, kids get to look up to 50 Cent....Is there any name dumber than that? SHIT...what happened to the good old days-- when Micheal Jackson was talented (and alive, and not a pedophile, and black, and cool)....Billie Jean is one of the best songs ever recorded. Put a Michael Jackson song up against a Chris Brown song....NO CONTEST.

Oh and the trends that we started.....who else misses the big hair and rolled up jeans. Ahhhh....good times.....good times. Today, kids are hardly dressed and have all kind of body parts pierced. When I was in school boys with an earring were looked at as kind of strange, today.....there are nipples being pierced all over America tonight. Oh, and remember the joys of saving up our money to buy posters for our room or the new Bon Jovi tape. So much less complicated in those days. We all had acne because our moms didn't subscribe to and couldn't afford good facial cleansers (I still get zits, can you believe it); a big night was going alone to the movies or to the mall (do kids even go to the mall anymore?). We all had only one pair of tennis shoes worn with three pairs of socks, a scrunchie or banana clip and we checked out library books with an index card and a stamp (remember learning all about the card catalog?). We watched films on actual projectors, and occasionally the film would snap and that would be the highlight of the day. We played "V" at recess, and the walkman the REVOLUTIONARY. My calculator has more speed than our first computer...with FLOPPY DISKS!

I am sure that every generation feels this way, that the newer generations are stupid and lost. Not that I don't see some of the value in what kids have done and technology (did I seriously ever live without a cell phone and email?); but there has been an indelible line drawn in the sand between us and them with the death of the VCR and the birth of Blue Ray. Do they even make Real Genius on Blue Ray? What the hell is Blue Ray?

People carry dogs in their purses

Holy cow it's been a while since I wrote. My apologies to anyone who felt their lives were spinning out of control while I was absent. I should be more responsible, and since we all know that the real world revolves around me, I should have understood that my faithful followers were lost without me.

I'm BACK!!! YAY!! With more witty stories, or more boring tales of life in urban LA, depending on how you want to look at them. There has been a lot going on-the first of which will be the topic of this blog. A couple of weeks ago, I was adopted by a kitten. Here's the story:

I work in a less affluent part of Culver City where there are a lot of abandoned houses, cars, and a lot of unsavory people walking around all day long. But, it is a nice building that I work in and the fact that it is only 6 miles from my house is a HUGE selling point. Anyhow, a couple of Fridays ago, one of the painters, Mauricio came in to tell me that there was a cat running around outside. This isn't all that uncommon. In poorer neighborhoods, people cant afford to fix their animals, so there are a lot of stray animals running around. At first, I wasn't very concerned, because I knew that if I saw it, I would have to save it. Then Mauricio told me that the KITTEN had run up into the engine of a parked car and wouldn't come out. So, being the animal lover that I am, I went out and was able to get the cat out of the car.

This is the second time I have been adopted by a cat in a car engine. So, I held the little pure black kitten, fed her and she fell asleep. I took her to the vet and the vet said she was about 5 or 6 weeks old and in good health. I had her tested, gave her a bath, and eventually gave her a home (that Lula is still unhappy about sharing). And I find it interesting that people all over LA who have heard that I have been adopted by Ilsa and now have 2 cats, that I am some kind of crazy spinster cat lady. Here are my arguments against this "logic".

1. I only have 2 cats. People with two dogs are looked at as completely normal, but
I am a crazy cat lady???
2. I never carry my cats in a purse into a store while I am trying to shop for food or luxury items (or anything else for that matter).
3. I never dress my cats in human clothes.
4. There is not a Halloween contest to see who the cutest cat is.
5. My girls are self sufficient for many days. Unlike dogs, they needn't be entertained, walked and will not howl or reek havoc if I chose not to come home for a night.
6. Lula fetches. She also sits on command, goes on a leash, and pretty much obeys my every command.
7. Cats are deliberative in their affection. My girls chose to love me, and when a man comes into the house, they both hide. But they love me, unconditionally. They can't be bought with Snausages or promises of dog parks. This is a love that is more fierce and loyal than any other in the world.

So, after my 7 point argument, I fully expect that everyone in the world understand why it is COMPLETELY normal for SMART people to have cats. My cats are the best, and they love me, no matter what!

And to people who carry their dogs in their purses......REALLY? WTF is that all about? And you all say that I am the crazy one because I rescued a lost and starving baby????

Interesting....very interesting world we live in!

Ode to the nurse.

I spent this weekend in Denver. It wasn't a planned trip, and it wasn't a particularly fun trip. I needed to be there for my dad as he was taken back into the hospital a month after his spinal fusion (no, it's not a delicious sushi meal), he got mysteriously sick and was rushed back into surgery. He had a fever, vomiting, delusions, ultimate pain and hardcore difficulty breathing. At any rate, he was in the hospital for four long days. And I have some conclusions about days spent in the hospital.

First, there are about 30 different nurses on each day. This is great, except for the fact that when they each enter the room they will ask questions to my father that they should probably already know the answer to. So when nurse number three asks my father (who has just had a conversation with me about whether the Nuggets will beat the Rockies and what I will do with my lawn) what meds he is on, I am thinking that he may not have the most accurate answer. He is on some heavy shit.....he can't talk (in a language I understand) and I am fairly sure that the Ooompa-Loompas are keeping him company in the bathroom. My dad is not in good shape and should not be answering these medical questions. He can barely answer the easy ones- What is your name? No dad....it's not Mikey. So the nurses not only ask what pain meds he is on, but how much of that....he has NO idea! That was a little scary for me to watch. I know that the nurses do the best they can, and bless them,. It can't be easy taking care of people at their worst.

And, it's not easy taking care of a man, my father, at his worst. He believes you should work until you drop. This is not the mentality someone recovering from two spinal surgeries needs to have. But he asks good questions, how to know what is enough. How does he know when he is over doing it? How does one take it easy after he has spent 40 years working as hard as his tiny feet and strangely designed body will let him. He is my hero, for a lot of things. I just hope he can breathe in a lot of air and not have to see the plethora of nurses and don those super stylish hospital gowns with the pocket in the front for a long time.

If my dad ever reads this (he won't- he doesn't understand what blog is-he thinks a blog comes out of your nose); I hope he knows how much I love and respect him.

Manifesto?

Since no one really reads all these blogs, I figure I can go ahead and have a full fledged pity party.


As many of you know, I am single. I have the worst luck with men. I have stopped trying. I have started a new job (about 5 months ago) and am convinced that I am no good at it. I always feel like a failure, insignificant in a very narcissistic way. How, you ask? Well, I feel like I am always being talked about, and thought about, but not because of good things. I feel like people talk about me because they hate me. I feel like everything that I ever thought I was sort of good at....not really. It's hard to write all of this, but I have been struggling for a while. I am nothing special, and as I approach my 32nd birthday, I realize that I am nothing. I thought about this the other day, since I tried a little experiment. there is exactly one person on the planet who would call me if she didn't hear from me first....Allison. I love you.....my best friend (no I am not drunk!). But if I never called my parents, weeks could go by. If I never emailed my brother--- weeks could go by. By the time they realized anything had happened to me, I would be floating in the bathtub while my cat ate parts of my flesh (because no one would be here to feed her). Does anyone else ever feel like this? I feel that the sense of futility has evaded my life.


Now I don't want to alarm anyone. Nothing bad will happen to me, mostly because I am too chicken to do anything. I just wait for things to happen. I am not a catalyst of change, as I often admire in other people. Instead, I await the next shoe to drop. It sounds oppressive, but it's not. It's just there- hanging around my head much like the smog that covers Los Angeles. Am I grumpy because it is hotter than Hades outside, or because my boss broke his leg and now hovers in the office and makes us all miserable? Am I sad because I don't know how to assert myself without an apology. All of the self advocating I have done over the last year, pretty much a lie. I feel okay some of the time, and I mean it when I say that I LOVE not having to sleep with anyone. Not that I am saying that I don't want sex-- let's be honest, this is one of a handful of things that can be really good and free (though when you look like me, it might not be free and it certainly doesn't happen without a boat load of anxieties about being naked and having unequal boobs with nipples the size of silver dollars). I do love to have a whole bed to myself without worrying about moving too much (did you know that restless leg syndrome REALLY is a syndrome?) or about farting too loud or about what happens when I can't regulate my body temperature. I am pretty sure that the road to most divorces starts with people being sleep deprived because they are sharing a bed.

That aside, I am lonely. I am lonely for contact, yet when someone asks me to do something I typically flake out? What is that all about? There are a few that I will go to no matter what- because I have reached that comfort point with. Joey, Tanisha and Michael...Jill; some people in Colorado, Andre.... But typically these are the people who are too busy. They have lives, people who love them and demand time from them. People whom they enjoy spending time with; yet in order to spend time with most of these people I have to pull teeth.

And then I think about other things, and feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself. I think about Chris Gonzales, about my age, who died over the weekend. I worked with him over the past few months, and found him to be delightful. I don't know how he died, but I know that he died. I think about all of the people who I have lost over the past years.....I think often of Julie. My dear aunt Julie. What would she say to me? She would tell me to smile, that there is someone out there to love me. She would tell me that there is a community out there for me, where I will feel important. That was Julie for you. She had so much adversity in her life, but she was the happiest person I knew. She led a simple life, loved her family, lost her little brother to a serial killer and her older brother to heroin. Her husband and two kids were everything. She used to read tea leaves and believe in magic crystals, she used to smoke pot and looked for love in everything around her. She found Jesus and was born again- not necessarily my path, but she found meaning in it. She never judged me for not accepting Jesus, for not going to church. She never looked down on me, she only loved me. And she died, at about 45 years old, in her living room; three weeks after Tom and Marianne died in a plane crash.

Julie was like a mother to me, a best friend who I knew I could call in the middle of the night and would never be too busy for me. She understood when I was needy, and understood when to tell me to buck up and get over myself, and when to listen to me and give me a shoulder to cry on. And I am not a cryer, I am a yeller. I get angry because anger is easier than sadness. I could be who I am with her, I didn't have to pretend to be noble or have integrity or character. I could be weak, dumb, simple, angry and sad, and she didn't make me explain it. More than that, she didn't do what my own mother does, she didn't try to "one up" me. She never would listen to my tales of woe, or tales of success, only to chime in how her life was harder, or she was smarter, or smaller, or better. The competition wasn't there. I felt accepted, and she died. So I feel abandoned, like I feel that my family has abandoned me. I feel that many friends have left, because there were too man other more important things to do. I feel, alone, exhausted, scared. I am tired of being scared. I am angry at myself for being scared, fear is weakness and in my family you can't be weak. You can be mean, selfish,cold, and hypocritical, but you can't be weak.

So, I am out in LA on an island, though I have family a mere 45 miles to the south. I am left by my parents, who never really connected with me because they were and are too busy with their own lives. My brother, though he has made tremendous strides in the last few years, still is unknown and absent to me. The four people I moved to LA for- Tom, Marianne, Julie and Geoff. Three have died, and the other was a horrible relationship error on my part.

What's left?

It all adds up

The average home price in this depressed economy in So Cal is something like $400k. This is not a huge house, either, this would be small by Colorado standards. This would be a single story, 3 bedrooms, modest backyard, modest front yard, maybe a garage...... I figure with a 30 year fixed mortgage this would cost about $3700 a month; for approx. 1800 sf.

In order to pay for the house (because every respectable person is supposed to have a mortgage) a person would have to secure a decent job. In order to secure a decent job, the person would have to go to college and obtain a BA (preferably a MBA). The average private tuition is about $25,000 a year; tuition at a state school is considerably less (about $9,000). So, I say that it is reasonable to assume that most of us would choose a private school because it has more networking and theoretically more worth when you graduate. However, they fail to tell you that you will be about $25k in the hole with student loans when you graduate with a BA. If you chose an MBA, it will be about $100k in debt and heaven forbid you become a lawyer or doctor because we are talking $200+ in student loans.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I think that most of us graduate from college with a about $20k in student loans, and we are 22 years old. And because we are 22 when we graduate, we have ABSOLUTELY no idea what we want to do when we grow up. Who would put that pressure on an 18 or 19 year old to decide what we want to major in and then go......no looking back! Then we graduate from school and find ourselves in a world of $30,000 in student loan debt, a car we have had from high school, and the cost of living.

So we have a 22 year old with a BA in business. He or she will land an entry level job making little money. In a good economy he would find a job as an assistant desk trader, financial manager, something along those lines. This income, in Southern california would earn a 25 wet behind the ears worker a salary of about $35k in the door. So lets crunch some numbers, shall we? I presume that my business major graduates from USC with a nice degree and a nice entry level job to pay for that. So, our hero will plug the numbers. He is more and more sophisticated and getting to his late 20's. The student loans are following him and he has decided that he needs to find a job. It may or may not be something that will fulfill him as a person, but really, most jobs are a means to the end.

I am guessing on graduation day, there are a lot of expenses being charged on the credit cards. Its time to have an apartment (were you have to pay rent monthly). Its time to go out and get that grown up job which includes waking up early all days of the week and actually having to go to an office. So you go to this mind numbing land o cubicals because that is the only work that the new one's get hired for. I am guesing you are earning about $35k a year (in the mid west this might be dooable). Where I live-No,

Lets talk numbers at this point--

You are 22 -24 years old with about $25-$30k in student loans and you still don't know what you want to be when you grow up. You find an apartment in the area which you can afford- so it's a single which costs you $975 in Koreatown. Nothing wrong Korea town, if you are Korean, They don't like gigantic white broads walking into their turf!

So, I have a $1300 a month rent.....because there is no way that on my $60+ income I could ever ever dream of buying a house and being able to afford a monthly mortgage of $3500! Sheesh. Then all our college cars start to break down and now, especially now, we are all teased with the notion that I too, can own a SOCAL socially acceptable car.

So how are people supposed to make it? How are people supposed to take on a insurmountable amount of debt to get an education; without which I would be unemployable and possibly homeless without. So, what is the right answer? The people that work at Barnes and Nobles appear to enjoy their job They aren't getting rich, but getting by.

Here, in the reality island of LA, people cant afford to buy a house- the lease payments on their land rover is WAY too high to allow for savings. People my aged in this city, are FUCKED. People didn't save money; they don't have retirement aspirations, they have HUGE student loans......
Wonder if I can get a bail out??????? I was properly managed (Unlike GM and Chrysler) and I was not part of a ponzi scheme. I played by the rules and am getting the shaft when it comes to alleviating debts. I took out debts to go to school I would do it again. But I ,know that starting in July I will have to pay back $300 a month in student loans. With expenses like that and a car that is kid of old, I just cant eve afford the idea of dating and having a family. I don't think it is in my financial plan.........bummer.

How the hell does everyone else do it??????

It's all in a name.....

There will never be a President Chrissy. There will likely never be a Dr. Chrissy, or a lawyer; or a rocket scientist. But there will be a porn star....

I have come to the conclusion that there is a lot of destiny within a name. Be careful how you name your children. Now days there is a lot of liberty being taken with naming children; and with the spellings (yes Allison, this is directed at you). Let us consider a perfectly normal name- Fred. Just normal Fred is a fine name-for a fish, or a turtle. When you add an "i" to the end- so the name Fredi- I think of a little "dog" with too much hair and a little head. But there are people with that name. And what about names that are androgenous? Not that there is anything wrong with that- but when I see the name Tracy, or Sasha, or Kelly on a piece of paper, I automatically think of a female. So it is quite confusing when I make a phone call and it's a guy! Oh, and let me tell you about the disappointment when the guy with a gal's name ends up being really hot. Man, I can't imagine screaming out "Tracy" in the heat of passion!

Some of you may be thinking that I am being a bit of a hypocrite, seeing as most people refer to me as Chris. But, I have a defense for this. Chris is a cool name.

80's movies, and other treasures.....

So maybe I am a sentimentalist. Maybe I am just a freak with an abnormal obsession with 80's crap. What the hell, it's been a rough month, right?

I was talking about all the movies that we fell in love with as children. Wow, there are a few gems that were hideously overlooked at all of the Oscar awards.

Never-ending Story.....

E.T. (I cried like a baby at the DRIVE-IN-- Cinderella City-- how many memories does that bring back?)

Showbiz pizza-- maybe not a movie-but a good memory all the same.

The Black Hole......

Dune....

Man, they just don't make crap like that anymore.....


then again....there's Napoleon Dynamite. I love technology too Kip! I am waiting to my LaFawnduh.....

The Road More Traveled....we are RE-TAR-DED.

Everyone knows the Octo-mom, right?

She just got a house.

In Southern California.

Without a job.

I have come to the conclusion that I have led a HUGELY misguided life. I made the mistake of choosing the path more traveled, and it has been erroneous, and the octo-mom is emblematic of my epic failures. When I was in high school I was not popular, nor well liked as I was (am) on the smarter side of things, a bit chubby and VERY outspoken, all of which don't fly too well in the average public American high school. I decided to weather the storm and stay on the path I chose. I had a job. I paid for most of my own way. On prom night, I was at work, then I went home to finish homework. I would get more excited than normal when I had a paper to write on Native Son or The Awakening. My friends and I were the butt of some others jokes, but we had our own way and it made us feel better to imagine life as an adult. When we were grown ups we would have accelerated passed the bums in life. The bums were the people who would look back on high school as the best years of their lives. YEAH RIGHT! We would have high paying jobs, our outer beauty would finally reflect the inside. We would have meaningful relationships, find success in family lives, remain healthy and age gracefully. This is how life would be right, for it was so unfair in high school.

Many people will think back to their high school days and rather than remembering a single event, they will remember a string of events woven together to create an experience. Of course there were good times, great times, "character building" times. But there were also times when I began to understand the inequities, and that life might not balance in the future. I thought that hard work, good grades, staying out of trouble and being an all around good kid would be rewarded upon graduation. I figured I had worked so hard all of high school I would receive a college scholarship and be able to attend a good college which had some discriminating entrance standards. Man, oh man, was I wrong. My error in thoughts crystalized immediately before the graduation ceremony where the school brought together all of the honor students and those who had won scholarships or fellowships for a celebration. I felt special and rewarded, until I looked around and saw the company I kept. Sure, there were the REALLY smart kids- those valedictorians and those kids whocould actually grasp the idea of an imaginary number. There were kids who understood IT, and who dreamt of being a CFO or an engineer. Those kids, I saluted. They were hard working and along with me, missed the pep rally's and prom. But there were other kids, one girl in particular who stood out to me. When her name was called, I was stunned.

Let's call her Sally (NOT her real name). We all remember the trouble makers from school, and since I was born and raised in the same school district, I had known most of the kids all of my life. This was not an exception. I knew this girl, rather, OF this girl, for years. She had been one of the faceless many who had excelled in soccer (WTF) and who took the average classes, had a boyfriend, and was cruel to those of us who were not good at soccer (again, WTF????). There were a slew of these girls, and we all remember when the first of the herd became pregnant. We might expect this to happen at 16, 17, or 18; she found herself knocked up at 14 (could have been 13). She had her baby at the beginning of 9th grade. So flash forward to 12th grade and she was also receiving an award at the ceremony I was attending. They began to call out scholarships and awards, and with each we clapped and smiled as our fellow nerds hopped on the stage and glowed in their minute of reward. I worked my butt off, kept down a job, and was thrilled when I managed to graduate in the top 5% of my class with a PARTIAL scholarship to a local but reputable school.

I expected the athletes to win scholarships; that is the age old story. But Sally won a full ride to a state school; because of her strenght in keeping her baby and managing to stay in school. Wow- so a valuable lesson for me to learn- Don't get a job; don't take honors classes, CERTAINLY don't get nearly straight A's....instead if you want help paying for school; get knocked up at 14 and display your bravery by letting your mom raise your baby while you are an asshole on the soccer field and attend all school functions.

And now, the octo-mom. No job, 14 children (it's a vagina, not a clown car lady!); not married, lived with her mom, whose house just went into foreclosure; this is the tale of a woman who just received a house in Southern California. What the hell have I been doing all of these years-going to work every day, paying my own rent, paying my own bills, and not intentionally having 14 children and intending to pay with them from student loan money (which I wouldn't qualify for anyhow because I am employed and as such earn too much money for the government to donate money too).....and because I made these horrible decisions to be responsible, it's high school all over again. Here I sit, on my couch, ALONE, paying too much rent for a too small apartment and getting ready to hit they hay at 9:00 at night because I have to get up early to go to WORK. Obviously the wrong choice....

For those of you who are out there and who have chosen the road more traveled and led quiet, unintruding and uninteresting lives because you are trying to find another job to pay for the rent because you know you will never be able to afford a house even though you have no off spring nor a significant other....etc etc etc....I salute you.

I wonder if I am too old to have a gaggle of kids?????

Honestly......

What the hell- do I have a beacon of light that only the irrational and retarded men can read that says "take me to bed...."

So, i have officially stopped dating on eharmony- the last guy was promising-- he did all the right things; paid for dinner, sent me flowers....then he went crazy. Actually, we went limp, then crazy.

I don't consider myself ugly- I mean, I don't have a vestigial wing or a hidden tail or anything like that- so when there have been a couple of drinks and some awkward kissing and the guy still isn't "ready"- how does a girl not take that personally. So, naturally I start listing all the things are wrong with me and why I can't get a guy hard-- even though the mere idea of fake tits will get a guy off, I am unable to do that. Sooo--- I am off to spend a life in spinsterhood, with my amazing cat and too many books.

I think that this ending with Robin is harder than I thought. Though I was being very fleeting about it when it went down, I am sad he didn't return my call, sad that no one loves me or finds me attractive or wants to start a live with me. But then again- I get to wear granny panties all the time!!! OH- YEAH!!!

Ny new job

I started a new job recently. And let me say, this job is AWESOME. Not because of the pay (which could be better), not because of the location (suffice it to say we have anti-graffiti paint on our walls and the little buggers still tag it); not because of the hot men that work there (trust me on this one); but for a couple of other very important things.

1. I can wear sweat pants to work. Do you know how great it is to be able to wear pants that have a drawstring to work. Now, some of you may be thinking that these pants should only be worn by grandma's with protruding bellies and a hump on their backs. While you may be right with this line of thinking, I believe, in my heart of hearts, that pants with drawstrings and elastic waistbands are very underrated. I am pretty sure that if I get married again, it will be in sweatpants (I did the dress the first time, be-atch). I can also wear my favorite tee-shirts to work. Amongst these favorites are my Calahan Auto Parts shirt, the Truffle Shuffle Shirt, and of course, Matt Foley.

2. Andi, my new friend at work, has the EXACT same sense of humor I do! It's strange. Granted, she wears shiny Napoleon Dynamite boots, but the fact that they are Coach boots, I can forgive her. We both have an irrational lust for Steve Perry, and thus LOVE all the Journey songs we hear everyday!!! I am of the opinion that no one ever told Steve Perry that he is a boy- I am pretty sure that he has hair extensions. And then there is the famous mustache shaving scene. I have never laughed so hard in my entire life.

3. My coworkers are just as down to earth as I am. One told me that her life is ruined because of all her black chin whiskers.

4. They all think that poo and farts are funny. It is so great when someone runs into the office, does a little crop dusting, and then runs away like a chicken. Then the boss comes out and looks at all of us and blames us for the stink bomb.

5. I am not the only one who drinks before noon on Saturdays. It's nice to know I have some company.

and Finally...

6. we all have skills.....Ninja skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills.....

11 days of International Observations...The Condensed Version

I am gleefully home from my mis-adventures in Mexico. I think that I will start with a list of things that I will be talking about as they relate to my trip: (though not necessarily in order, and not necessarily today).....seriously folks-- this all happened in 11 days.... Feel free to ask about any or all of these adventures. I am verbose and MAN OH MAN do I have stories to tell!!!!!

1. I believe there should be a separate compartment for "people" under the age of 10 on airplanes. JESUS kid- can you blink without kicking my chair?

2. Old fashioned planes-- what REALLY goes on behind that navy blue veil which separates the carpet-baggers from us regular folk? Why do THEY get the warm cloths after a long flight? Why do they get real forks (and food, for that matter) and the whole can of soda?

3. When they say fly direct into Cozumel, there is a reason for that....it took about 37 days to get from LA to the hotel.

4. They do not believe in lines in Mexico. This is a very valuable lesson when you are waiting in a line for a ferry on a dock after being in a small seat in front of four people sitting in three seats (see number 1 on the list).

5. Docking in Cozumel.....the Ellis Island of resorts.....

6. Two Words: Clown Car.....

7. 11 days with my immediate family with no internet and no cable.....if I can survive that, I can survive anything!

8. "It's only my opinion".....

9. Where else can you find 6 tee-shirts for $20? Once washed they get really short and really wide- but they are good for a wearing.....

10. They sell antibiotics over the counter!

11. Drunkeness in front of parents; now that is the way to have a vacation.

12. So many lizards, iguanas, snakes with legs?

13. Exactly what can I eat/drink? What water is filtered? Was that lettuce washed in filtered water? What about the ice? How can I brush my teeth?

14. (Sensitive readers, please proceed to #15)- 8 days without a poo; but it was glorious when it came to fruition.

15. There seem to be two distinct age brackets from the many, many, many cruise ships which go to these islands: Girls who are 19 and have really long gross hair and walk around town in bikinis and flip flops (some with big hoop earrings, cigarettes, odd piercings, and HUGE sunglasses) and couples who are about 119 and have been sleeping in seperate beds for many, many years.

16. All the shops look the same; and they seem to sell the same 6 shirts.....

17. A salt-water "water" park....an interesting idea. It didn't work for me.

18. There should also be a separate compartment for "people" under the age of 10 at the hotel. It's just my opinion.

19. New Year's Eve--- those "pirate-technics" were probably pretty good. I was too busy hanging my head over the side of the boat. And can you believe I didn't even drink? What a story to tell......

20. Kittens running loose in the airport. I know I am not home!!

21. Apparently you have to tip EVERYONE.

22. Eurpoean women who are about 6 months pregnant smoke.

23. Who would have thought I oculd go on vacation for 11 days and lose weight? Strange, eh?


There are so many, many more things to discuss. I am pretty sure I will be digesting this trip for years to come. I am happy to be home and sleeping with my kitty!