Friday, October 29, 2004

How sweet is this?

Autumn posted just for me! What a sweetheart. I tried so hard not to miss anyone when I switched blogs, but I know some fell through the cracks and had to search for me. The ingenious ones like Grace found me through either stalking or luck, Autumn had to resort to calling out to me on her blog! Look at her post here to see how cute that is. She even used the Scooby-Doo song. So, to repay her I added a link to her site! She's one of us now. The few, the proud, the bloggers.

So, I'm listening to my favorite radio program, 90's Nooners. I love this! I really enjoyed the music of the 90's. I just heard Lucious Jackson. I completely forgot how much I like that song.

came around after dark
you are nothing but a lark
know I snuck in like a narc
I knew I had to leave my mark
wanted to be satisfied
I tried to be dignified
wearing nothing is divine
naked is a state of mind


Thursday, October 28, 2004

Another song that means something to me

For some reason this popped into my head today, and I can't get rid of it. So I'm passing it along to you:

He's Popeye the Sailor Man
He lives in a garbage can

He eats all the worms
and spits out the germs
He's Popeye the Sailor Man!



Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

This song has always meant a lot to me. My 9th grade english teacher played it for us, along with Piggies and Julia, when we read Animal Farm. I could see why she played Piggies, as the song is pretty much the book set to music. I think she just played the other Beatles songs because she wanted to hear them. And didn't want to hear us. Plus, I heard she had a nervous breakdown the year after I graduated from high school. I don't think it had anything to do with me though. Anyway, I hope you all read these lyrics and take something from them. I do, every time I listen to this song.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Can't wait for Chutes and Ladders

I've been playing Hi-Ho Cherry-Oh with Caden a lot lately. A lot. That's one thing about pre-schoolers. They don't get bored with doing one thing over and over. They find something they like and they go with it. Forever. It's kind of cool playing games with him though. It's really impressive the way he always gets the number of cherries that he needs. If he has 4 cherries left, amazingly enough, he'll land on 4 cherries! Sometimes that happens for me too, but only once Caden has won the game. After he wins first, then it's my turn to win. So I'll usually get the number I need. But only after he wins. I'm absolutely, under no circumstances, allowed to win first. I'm allowed to win second though, so that's cool. At least I'm a winner.

Monday, October 25, 2004

I just had to share

My sister is the greatest. Here is what she had to say about my recent drama:
I am sorry you had to go through that. He stinks. He totally intruded
your blog world and used your material against you. I hate him now. He
is the evil of all blogs. If he shows up at your party I will throw rocks at him.

A word to the wise. Don't piss off my sister. And what pisses her off more than anything? Fucking with me. I love that! My little sister more than makes up for the other, less wonderful members of the family. What a girl.

You'll never take me alive, Copper!

I drove to work this morning with one headlight out. I was completely paranoid about getting pulled over. I'm looking around me, I'm not speeding, I'm trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Half way here I'm telling myself: Relax, Cindy! It's not like you're smuggling cocaine, it's a headlight! Scared I'm going to end up in cuffs in the back seat of the police car. It's a headlight! Not a dead body in the trunk! Good thing it's still light when I go home, I'd have to call a cab or something, there's no way I could handle the stress. I've been accused of being a Girl Scout and a bus driver, because I like to follow the letter of the law. I swear, sometimes I'm such a goody two shoes I surprise even myself. Oh well, at least you'll never see me on Cops.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

I decided to move this post over here, because I like it.

It's funny how people can surprise you. In both good and bad ways. Someone you might think would react to something a certain way will show you a different side of themselves. Someone else who you had thought was mature, will suddenly act like a crybaby bitch. Then take the easy way out and not even tell you why they're acting like a crybaby bitch. Things like this can separate you from a person, or bring you closer together. The fact of the matter is: People do change. That's part of the complexity of human beings I suppose. Humans are powerful creatures. The emotions we hold have a power over us, and other people. Some people use their power for good, some for evil. Most of us do both, and usually without even meaning to. How easily we can hurt someone with just words, or how simple it is to make someone happy, with a kind gesture. You can do something as small as send someone a picture or a CD and not think it's a big deal, but you've brought them a little joy. You can also wound them with words that you may not even see as hurtful. It's all part of growing up. Learning how to relate to others, and learning how people affect each other. I don't think we ever stop learning these lessons in life. I hope we never do. Each experience we have brings something to our lives, and good or bad, these little lessons make us who we are.

Aaaahhhh, smell that clean, fresh scent?

Sorry about getting all nuclear on my blog, guys. Drama sucks. People suck. That last blog sucked. So I'm starting over with a clean slate. I will never again make the mistake of telling people about my blog. Except you blogging folks, you guys are awesome. I got so many emails from concerned bloggers! It was really touching, I mean it. It made me feel so loved. What was it called....oh yes, Cindy Love Fest 2004. Which I have to say sounds like it would be a great time. Anyway, I appreciate all your concern, and I will be back to my regular programming here, in my new, secret blog. (insert Mission Impossible theme song) CL is the name, blogging's the game, right?

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

People need to mind their own fucking business is what I think. Stupid mother fucking trouble maker sons of bitches. I don't know why people do that shit, I really don't. I've been accused of being "intentionally cruel". Well, I'm not. I may unintentionally cruel, but I'll tell you what: intentionally cruel is specifically pointing something out to someone that you know damn well will hurt them. And for what? For the fucking fun of it? Because their lives have been too drama free that they think "Hey, I know, I'll stir up some shit then sit back and laugh!". I have a problem with my mouth getting me in trouble, I admit that. This is because my view of acceptable vs unacceptable shit talking is different from other people most of the time. The only person who holds pretty much the same views of what is OK is Ang. If someone made fun of something dumb I had said (and they have, believe me you!) I wouldn't get upset about it. It's perfectly OK. On the other hand, I would never say someone had a big nose, for example, or anything derogatory about them physically. Maybe this is because I don't think it's right to mock what can't be helped. While, if I say stupid things at times, this can be helped. Who knows why my view is a little skewed, I won't apologize for it, it's just part of who I am. Another part of who I am is letting people talk, and not getting involved in their business. I have enough shit on people that if I chose I could break up marriages, end friendships, end engagements, end careers. I do not spread this around because it's none of my business. Why is this not understood? Mind your own fucking business, and stay the fuck away from my blog.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Oh, it's already been broughten

I've decided that Bring the Funk by Ben Harper is my new favorite song. I mean, who wouldn't love a song with such lyrical gems as:

Stay black
Stay white
Stay brown
Get on down
Bring the funk


Oh, funk me up
Funk me down
Funk me sideways
Funk me always
Bring the funk

(how many times do you think I wrote fuck while typing those lyrics? I had to back up and delete quite a few times. Damn you, Dr Freud!)

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Because you can't, you won't, and you....should stop.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love the Beastie Boys. I do! I've spent many a drunken night listening to them, as well as mucho sober time, mostly during daylight hours. One night, I couldn't tell you my name to save my life, but there I was, lying on the floor in front of the Skills to Pay the Bills video, singing every song word for word. (Do I remember this fabled night? Of course not. But my friends swear to it) I remember singing Paul Revere while running the mile in 7th grade. I recently started becoming a rap snob, and I had decided that the Beastie lyrics just didn't cut it for me anymore. Thanks to Grace's Beastie Boys posts 1 & 2, I realized I had been missing them. I pulled out Paul's Boutique (naturally) and fell in love all over again. However, when I saw them on the VMA awards, I just started wondering...
What is wrong with Mike D? Did I miss something in the news lately? I mean, MCA looks kind of old, with the gray hair and all, but he still looks ok. Ad Rock looks like the drugs may be catching up with him a little, but all in all, ok. Mike D looks like a cancer patient! Maybe liver disease? Whatever it is, he needs some rest. No offense, boys, but take a break, get some sleep, maybe take some vitamins or something. We don't want you breaking any bones out there.

The Beastie Men

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Warning: This post contains scenes so graphic and Un-PC in nature, parental supervision is suggested.

American Blogger posted about the Fugees song Killing Me Softly. I have strong feelings about that song. I've been disturbed, I've seen things...oh yes. Things that would make strong men shriek in the night. Nightmares that will always have Killing Me Softly on the soundtrack. To fully explain, I will take you back to 1997, Venice Beach, California. There we were, minding our own business, shopping, taking in the sights, doing whatever it is people do in Venice Beach. Suddenly I could hear that song, soft at first, but gradually growing louder as we got closer to the source. We came upon a man, tapping a tambourine to the beat of Killing Me Softly. Innocent enough, I suppose. Until there was a break in the crowd, and I could see what everyone was standing around watching. There, on the sidewalk, was a man. A man with no legs, one arm, and one nub. He was dancing. Dancing to that song, that damn song. Rolling around on the ground, waving his one arm, sexy like. Biting on his nub with a come-hither look on his face. Dancing like he was dancing on a stage with a pole. Now, you may be thinking I'm mean, that the poor guy had a quarter of the limbs I currently have and I shouldn't have such thoughts, but man, you didn't see it. It was the nub in the mouth, that was the clincher. The nub in the mouth. Did you ever in your life think you would have the occasion to use a sentence like that? I didn't. To this day, if Shelby or Jill wants to make me cringe, they sing that song. They think it's funny. Oh yeah, fucking hilarious. Am I cold hearted? Probably. But I challenge you to witness something that disturbing, and not carry the burden of that memory for the remainder of your life. Killing me softly. Yeah, it's killing me softly, all right.

Friday, October 01, 2004

It just doesn't make any sense!

On my way to work this morning, I saw a red Infiniti with the license plate 2RED2(picture of hand)L. I got to thinking (which is always a bad idea) exactly how red does something have to be to qualify as too red to handle? I've touched plenty of red items in my life, and I have yet to find one that is too red to handle. I had a red Jetta, I handled that just fine. It did have a lot of black trim, though, so maybe that's why it didn't qualify. Coke cans? Well, they have white and black as well, so maybe that's the reason. I have a red shirt that I seem to be able to handle just fine, but that is kind of sheer, so it may not be red enough. Red crayons? Too small. Red pens? Same thing. I could understand too hot to handle but too red? Could my car be too green to handle? These scissors on my desk are pretty orange, I should be careful, they may be more than I can handle. I had no idea such danger was out there. Colors! Imagine! As if we didn't have enough to worry about, now we have to be wary of colors. Except pastels of course.

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