music calms the savage beast.

Since the iPod cord in my car no longer works, I've been forced to go back to listening to CDs while I drive. This morning I threw in a mix I made a while back. There's no date on it so I don't know when this was, but man, I must have been feeling down when I put it together. All the songs are sad.

La Rocca - Some You Give Away

What ever happened
to the promises you made
Those little notions
of your breakthrough day
My one mistake was
in making some room
Leaving doors unlocked
that you pushed through
And taking too much time...

Damien Rice - The Blower's Daughter

And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

Neko Case - I Wish I Was The Moon Tonight

Last night I dreamt I had forgotten my name
'Cause I had sold my soul but awoke just the same
I'm so lonely
I wish I was the moon tonight

Iron & Wine - Naked As We Came

Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes 'round the yard

Rhett Miller - Fireflies

Never say
You'll never leave
Cuz you'll never know til you try
In a jar
fireflies
Only last for one night

The Thorns - No Blue Sky

Cloud and rain, smoke and smog here
Won't see too many stars tonight
Biding time, waitin’ on a sunset
One last glance of gold, then goodbye

And so on and so on. One wrist-slicing song after another.

I have to say, I really enjoyed it.

We had a minor slow globe incident here this morning,

But on the bright side, my camera bag is now covered in glitter and looks FABULOUS!

I think I'll ask Santa for a Bedazzler this year.

You want to know what my son said the other day?

He asked me if you could marry your sister. I wasn't sure where that came from but I had never been happier about him being an only child as I was at that moment. Turns out it stemmed from an episode of Ben 10, not some random obsession with incest.

Anyway, I answered his questions and maybe gave him a little too much information regarding having retarded children when you procreate with family members. But you know how it goes. Those conversations with kids get away from you somehow and at the end you're left wondering how it went so far and you have a strange feeling you will be receiving a call from Teacher the next day.

I wasn't going to make up some bullshit explanation, though, because I have always told him I will be honest with him. I think honesty is a very important trait to teach your kids. Honesty, a sense of responsibility, and the ability to laugh at yourself are three qualities that will help you tremendously throughout your life. At age seven, my son takes more responsibility for his actions than most adults I know. (I don't know that many people) We're almost there with the honesty part, and we're definitely still working on the ability to laugh at yourself. I can laugh at myself, and I usually have many reasons to do so. (I trip on things) If someone makes a smartass comment about me my first reaction is not

REVENGE.
MUST GET REVENGE.

It's "Good one, _____." Followed by a chuckle.

Unless it's not really that funny, in which case it's more like "Oh, poor _____. You really tried with that one but you just couldn't carry it home, could you?" Still followed by a chuckle, but the chuckle is directed towards myself because I think I'm funny.

Anyway, teach your kids to laugh at themselves. If you can't laugh at yourself you will constantly be trying to get the last word, to make your point, to one-up others. And who has time for all that?

At least here

you only have a read a short paragraph before yawning.

I usually don't do this.

There's a girl at my dentist's office that I've never liked. But this morning she said I looked so cute, with emphasis on the so.

I guess I should give her another chance.

Train wrecks sell.

I was at the grocery store (Nob Hill, would you believe?) the other day and I noticed that Britney Spears was all over the magazine covers. With very contradictory stories, too. One said Britney is all cleaned up and doing great, and it made me really happy. Then another said Britney is screwing up her life. Oh, how my heart hurt with that news. One magazine said Britney lost a bunch of weight in a really healthy way and another said that she used some crash diet that screws you up. I don't know what to think. I don't know who to believe. It's all very confusing and I just don't know where to turn for the reassurance that I need.

I think...

maybe I'm finished talking.

This morning...

Usually, when I'm at a light and someone wants to pull out of a driveway in front of me, I let them go, but not the guy behind them. I'm a one-car kind of girl.

But this morning I let two cars go. Because I was listening to Five Stairsteps, Ooh Child. You just have to let two cars go when that song is on, don't you think?

Poor kid.

My son cried when he found out his dad voted for McCain.

I think because he finally realized that Mommy used to be married to a Republican.

You know, you try to protect them...

Time for a career change.

I saw a license plate today that said PTRANER.

Do you think he teaches people how to pee?

I had cereal for dinner. Like a stoner.

Did you know that the Honey Bunches of Oats people made a new cereal that's just bunches?


O.

M.

F.

G.

Ewww, old lady legs.

Can we take a vote?

How old is too old to be wearing white tights?

Because I say once you're out of elementary school you're cut off.
Unless it's Halloween.

It's like I don't even have a blog anymore!

Especially Wednesday.

My to-do list on Tivo gets me hot.

Fruit on the bottom, hope on top.

You know how Yoplait has that thing where they will donate money to breast cancer research if you send in the lids you collect from their yogurt cups?

Do you think it's gross that whoever collects the lids knows that every one of them has been licked by somebody?

I'm alive, see?

So, my son has his own playlist on my iPod. We listen to his music on the way to school sometimes, or in the afternoons. It's got some cool stuff on it that we can enjoy together, such as The Devil Went Down to Georgia and The Safety Dance. It's also got some stuff on there that I don't enjoy so much but I let him listen to anyway, such as the theme songs to Ben 10 and Johnny Test. (not to be confused with Jonny Quest)

Occasionally his songs will pop up when I'm alone and I have my iPod on shuffle. I skip them and move on to the next normal song. However...

I do have to admit that I listen to the song from the Speed Racer movie. I do. It's so embarrassing, and I have to roll up my windows, and I can only listen to half of it anyway, but I like it. It makes me laugh.

Roller coasters make me laugh, too.

You should listen to the Speed Racer song. It might make you laugh.

Did you know...

That it's Istanbul not Constantinople?
Istanbul! Not Constantinople!

Been a long time gone, Constantinople.

Now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night.

Did you know that?
Seriously!

I may not buy the best marbles, Furious Ball, but I sure can use them!

How much fun can you have with an empty room and a bag of marbles?



No furniture means you can throw them all over the place.









That clear one bounced straight into my camera just after I snapped this picture.







Starting to get bored....







So, the answer is:

A lot! But clean up sucks and you will find marbles all over the house for the next week or so.

I knew it was coming.

But I still wasn't prepared for it.

My son figured out that there is no tooth fairy. I know he's at that age, and I know it's normal, maybe even a good thing, but it's still sad to me. I love that he's getting older and we have great conversations now (and sometimes really odd conversations, such as the other day when he asked me what I would do if I had someone in my life who could make things out of duct tape) but sometimes I wonder where my baby went.

And I know this means that the whole Santa thing will be coming up soon, and I'm so not ready for that. I might have to ask him to fake it for me, just for one more year. I'm not above that. I'll promise extra special presents if he goes along with it and everything.

Maybe even cash if he agrees to wearing feety pajamas.

Damn you, Michael Ian Black!

Damn you for challenging Tucker Max to a fight. Damn you for telling me that Tucker Max's book is the #1 seller in the humor category on Amazon, which led me to believe it's funny. Damn you for making me finish this book even though I really, REALLY don't want to. Ok, that last one is my own issue, but I'm happier blaming Michael Ian Black for my problems.

Seriously, if there are any 19 year old frat boys reading this who want me to send them the book, please let me know. Because you are definitely the target audience for this book. It is page after page of "Dude, my friends and I got really drunk, and then we acted like complete assholes, and then I fucked some random chick. The end." Sure, there's stories about blow jobs in there, and some arrests, and more vomit/shit/piss than anyone could be (or should be) comfortable with. This is one blog-turned-book that never should have happened. And what kind of a name is Tucker? Your parents really wanted to drive home the importance of making your bed, Tucker?

I hate myself for wasting my time on this. But I can't give in. If I stop reading this book before the end then the terrorists win.

Def Leppard: Love Bites is on the radio right now.

I saw a license plate this weekend that stated "I love doves."

Weird, that one.

And one this morning that simply said "oregano."

People around here have odd interests.

Not that I don't dig oregano. I do. I just wouldn't proclaim it on my license plate. And sure, doves make a cute cooing sound, but even that gets old after a while.

Hard core.

I saw a lady at Longs a little while ago that you wouldn't believe. She was about 70 years old and her cart was filled with vodka and adult diapers. I swear. Three big old gallon jugs of cheap vodka and like six packs of adult diapers. I guess there's something to be said for knowing yourself. If I knew I was going to drink myself into oblivion and pee the bed, I might be inclined to make the same purchases, I don't know. I'd at least have a little shame though, and not be holding up the line to have the stock boy check for more vodka in the back. That's just plain greedy, grandma.

You know what?

I had a really good weekend.

What I should have said was nothing.

So this guy calls me yesterday from the Chamber of Commerce. We get our labor law posters/books/pamphlets from them and he was calling to let me know about a new product that they have for the human resources department. I explained that we don't have an HR department, exactly, because we only have four employees here. Ah, yes, no need for this interactive website then, I see. I let him know that we make sure we have the correct posters displayed and that we hand out the correct pamphlets once a year, but beyond that we don't really have any HR issues wth the staff. Then I said "We're over here..." and I trailed off because I realized I was about to tell a representative from the Chamber of Commerce that "We're over here sexually harrassing each other all the time." and I didn't think he would find that funny at all. For once in my life my filter worked. Great success.

You know what I was just thinking?

I was just thinking that I'm kind of stupid. Every year I go see Lyle Lovett in concert. And every year he talks about hanging around Saratoga, going to the restaurants, meeting the people. And never before has it even occurred to me that I should go down there and look for him. Not until today, when I was driving home from work and Creeps Like Me came on my ipod. He's already gone, but maybe next year I'll remember.

Maybe next year.

I have something to say.

What was it again?

Um, I forgot.

Not because of acid reflux, either.

I was thinking today, as I drove home, what if you went to a karaoke place and went up on stage but instead of singing you just moved your mouth like you were lip synching? Would anybody get the joke?

And don't ask me why I think of such things. I just do.

never,

ever buy mentos from the liquor store over by the crack hotel on Broadway.

because fruity mentos should never, ever crack in two when you bite into them.

mentos don't crack.

people crack.

I'm all hopped up on the Sudafed...

And I can't tell if I like it or I hate it.

I'm a little shaky. I'm clenching my jaw like the tweakers do. I talk without knowing what I'm going to say until the words actually leave my mouth, which led me into a weird conversation with my co-worker about teabagging. I think I'm hungry, but I'm not exactly sure. I can't finish anything I start.

But hey! My nose isn't running!

No wonder they keep this shit locked up, huh?

I just needed some lactobacillus rhamnosus!

I stopped by Whole Foods today for a minute, and as I was waiting in line I saw one of those hippie mom magazines proclaiming "Circumcision does not prevent HIV."

And I think: Really? This was up for debate? I sure hope they didn't waste a bunch of my tax money on that study. I'm pretty sure every third grader in America knows that.

Because honestly, how could circumcision prevent HIV? Before I started this post I looked into the whole thing (a little bit) and saw that some people believe it can reduce the risk of HIV. But reduce the risk and prevent are two completely different stories. Also, I think Africa should take all the help it can get when it comes to HIV. That goes for you too, Haiti. If it helps, awesome. But how are they going to prove it? Seems like a really difficult study to keep under control. Seriously, like, I'm talking about the actual control group. Sucks to be them, am I right?

Anyway, my point is not whether or not circumcision can prevent/reduce the risk of HIV. My point is this:

Stay the hell away from Whole Foods market. All that hemp clothing and unwashed hair and Birkenstocks. I barely survived. And my kid wouldn't eat the damn yogurt anyway.

Addition.

My house number is 1827.

The 1 and the 8 add up to 9.
The 2 and the 7 add up to 9.

This makes me happy.

Is that weird?

Children's Cancer Research.

How do they know? How do they know that if they send me something I'll feel guilty and send them money? I don't really need seventy thousand return address labels, but sometimes they're actually cute. I prefer the ones that don't say Ms. before my name. I sent in some money a month or two ago for some cute summery labels, but they said Ms. Then a couple weeks ago I get some new ones with no Ms. and I feel bad using them without donating, so I did. Then yesterday they sent me a fucking calendar! A calendar! Sure it's got birds on it and I'd never use it, and never mind that fact that it's July, so by January it will be lost. I think it's just plain rude, guilt tripping me into sending money to save children from cancer.

Selfish bastards.

I walked into a door, fell down some stairs, anything!

Don't you think that if you go to a social function with a big bandage across the side of your face that you're morally obligated to tell people why you have a big bandage across the side of your face? I mean, you know people are looking at it, you know people are coming up with their own ideas which are probably way worse than the actual story. Just tell the reason and be done with it. It's your duty.

I'm not saying I want to hear the story behind every band-aid, but when it's something on your face or your neck, basically anything above the shoulders, I think you have to tell people how it happened. You just have to.

And if you don't...

I'm going to blog about it.

Mondays

Don't you hate it when you go downstairs to get that first glorious cup of coffee only to find that all you have made yourself is a nice hot pot of water because you forgot to put the coffee in the coffee maker?

I finished my book today and had a mild panic attack when I got home and saw that my Barnes and Noble order hadn't been delivered. I usually have back-up books. This time I was unprepared. I hated me for a little while. Because:

I actually read a Maxim magazine at lunch because I had nothing else to read. I read the magazine from USAA for crying out loud. That's how desperate I was. Then I head it. The gate opened. The doorbell rang. I praised the lord. Really, I praised him. Hallelujah.

Not really. But I may have praised UPS a little bit. Then I started a new book.

Happy.

Where is the love?

You know, I'm kind of pissed off that nobody told me about the tomato issue. I love tomatoes. Everybody knows I love tomatoes. Yet nobody told me I shouldn't be eating tomatoes because I might get salmonella. I just found out today.

Real nice, guys.

Cliffhanger.

I'm going to tell you this story, but you have to guess the end.

Don't worry, it's easy.

So, I'm at Michael's (the arts and crafts store, this is an important point to the story) and I'm picking out some scented candles for a baby shower prize. My son and I are smelling them one by one and we get to one called Tea Rose. I asked my son how it smelled and he said ok, so I smelled it and promptly made a face and said (quite loudly, I'm ashamed to say) "Ew, that smells like old lady."

I immediately clapped my hand over my mouth and turned around to see...

I was there, I promise.

The only proof I'm going to have that I actually did things with my son while he was growing up is the fact that I took the pictures of the activities.

Check IMDB, seriously.

I saw a license plate frame today that said: We have god to thank for a wonderful life.

And I'm all, I thought it was Frank Capra...

Pete and Repeat sat on a fence...

1. Putting your left arm out doesn't give you the right of way. Especially if you're on a bicycle, because you really won't win.

2. Do you think snails get really frustrated when they try to run away from people? Like in their heads they're screaming "COME ON! COME ON! WHY CAN'T I RUN FASTER?? SHE'S GOING TO STEP ON M..."

3. Whenever I hear a really loud, obnoxious motorcycle (yeah, I'm talking to you Harley Davidson) I have a quick fantasy of shooting the person riding it.

4. I saw a car with the license plate "ROTARD" and I've adopted it as my new favorite word.

5. Does this picture make you laugh as much as it makes me laugh?

I'm doing just fine on my own, but thanks.

Today I was invited to a Penetration Webinar.

And I'm all like, woah, Visa, back the hell up.

I'm not that kind of girl.

It is free, but still.

No doubt.

I like how open minded we are in our dreams. We accept everything as real, no matter how far fetched or ridiculous it may be. We don't stop to consider that the beautiful flying monkey couldn't possibly be real, we just enjoy it as it happens. We don't stop running just because vampires don't exist, we know in our hearts that if we stop running we will die.

When I found out that the twins I had aborted had survived and my boyfriend's mom (who performed the abortion) was raising them as her own I didn't stop to consider how exactly a four month old fetus could survive, I just knew I wanted my children back. And when that big ghost man was playing his music box to lure children out of their rooms so he could steal them I didn't say to myself "that's not possible", no. I crawled into bed with my son to make sure he didn't go outside. But when I woke up from that dream, convinced I had just heard that same song, I talked myself out of actually getting into bed with him because that would be crazy.

After I went to check on him and make sure he was still in his bed, of course.

Made me laugh.

Revisiting personalized license plates.

You know how here in California you can put a symbol on your license plate? You can chose from a hand, a star, and a heart. Well, a lot of people (girls, I assume) put their initials and then the heart and then the initials of their husband, to flaunt their love, you know? Like CDH heart MKH, or something like that. I saw one today that said HPY heart TOY, and I'm guessing these people have a last name that starts with Y but it looks like it says happy love toy.

Which is way better.

Not even Chopsticks.

Listen guys. I hate to be mean, but I have to put my foot down. I'm making a new house rule. If you don't know how to play the piano you cannot touch my piano. I know it's tempting. I know it's fun. But don't break the rule. Rule #1 might be Respect (or no TV before school, I'm not sure which) at other people's houses, but here it's going to be If You Don't Know How To Play The Piano You Cannot Touch My Piano. I'm not going to put up a sign or anything, because that would be rude.

Right? That would be rude?

Damn. I thought so.

Ok, no sign. But I am going to leave the piano closed from now on. It's not because I don't trust you guys, it's because...well...ok, I don't trust you guys. No offense. But it really, really grates my nerves to hear someone almost playing Heart And Soul right, but not quite.

Can we also agree that knowing the pattern to Mary Had A Little Lamb, but not knowing which key to start with does not constitute knowing how to play the piano?

Thanks.

Tick-tock, Fatty.

So, I'm cleaning out the litter box and the phone rings. I go answer it and two minutes later when I get back to the bathroom my fucking cat is shitting in the half-cleaned litter box. I told her "You're an asshole, Fatty" but did she care? No. It's bad enough that I have to go sifting through the litter for her shit, now I have to pick it up still warm from her furry little ass. Oh, and don't worry about covering it up, Fatty, oh no, I'll take care of it! You just go eat some more food, fat ass. And please puke this time, spread the love. It smells great.

Isn't she supposed to be dying? When is that happening, again?

Hypothetical question...

How many drinks does it take for you to start thinking that Swedish Fish shots are a good idea?

I will tell you this only because I care about you: The alcohol makes them even harder.







(that's what she said)

Captain Backfire

The worst part about intentionally trying to get a bad song stuck in someone else's head is when you get it stuck in your own head as a result.

Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you

Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say good-bye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

**Edit. Must add link to be a proper Rick Roll. Thanks for the education guys!

Scarred.

I love the Dresden Files books. Love love love. I want to sleep on the books and wear the books for clothing and eat dinner with the books and possibly marry them and have baby books.

Have I told you how much I love these books?

The characters are interesting, the stories are full of action, the main guy is as sarcastic as they come. They make me laugh. Plus the whole wizard thing? I really do not want to put this book down.

The past books I read were special editions that came with a special book jacket and they all match and look so pretty together on my bookshelf. The latest book was just released so I got the regular hardback with the regular jacket (thank you!) and for the first time I was subjected to a picture of the author.


I don't know if I'm ever going to get over this.

Don't tell Terra. She'd be so disappointed in me.

Who wins?









VS

Kissing trees

These trees in my yard have grown together in two places.

This is the kissy part.

You don't even want to see the other part.

Dear The Dixie Chicks:

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but "think" and "Hank" do not rhyme.

Please re-write.

Thanks.

Personally, I always thought the devil played better than Johnnie.

But that's just my opinion.

I'm sitting outside in the sun right now.

And one of my neighbors is blasting Moonshadow by Cat Stevens. I mean blasting it. I could hear it even when I was inside the house.

If you're going to play it loud at least make it a worthy song. Now, I'm not saying I don't like that song, I do. But is it really one of those turn-up-your-stereo-and-rock-out kind of songs?

The yellow jackets are circling. I have to go inside.

Just in time for Easter.

Stigmata.

(or a binder-related incident at work, if you're more comfortable with that.)

So. How are you guys celebrating the resurrection of our lord and savior jesu...

Ok, I can't do that with a straight face. Sorry.

Want another one, Joel?

How about the guy I saw today, with the royal blue sweater and jeans, and the fuchsia socks. Yeah, fuchsia socks and guess what else? A fuchsia t-shirt peeking out from under the royal blue sweater.

I could post every day about the freaks in Redwood City.

Like the guy with the cheetah bike. It had a tail and everything.

The pole-circler, who walks circles around the light post non-stop as she's waiting for the light to change.

The guy who runs in the short shorts, reminiscent of Jack Tripper.

There's a never-ending stream of weirdos parading past my building. And we get to see them all. Even the midgets and the crippled hobos.

Another one.

I just saw a girl wearing red velour sweat pants and a pink turtleneck sweater. I wonder about the thought process behind that outfit. Was it just a matter of what was closest to her on the bedroom floor or did she really think to herself "wow, this would look great on me!"?

Totally 80's

I saw a guy wearing neon green Wayfarers today. Not even real ones. They were the fake, rubbery ones.

What's that all about?

Nice try.

Ebony and Ivory.
Good message.
Retarded song.

It's like Paul and Stevie wanted to do this meaningful song together and change the way people think, but they didn't have a lot of time to spend on it. So they decided to take a poem written by a sixth grader on the back of her Trapper-Keeper and put it to music.

And you know that sixth grader didn't even write it because she believed in it. She just wanted to get her poem in the school paper and knew that writing something with a "powerful message" increased her chances.

Hope can drive a man insane.

I had a narrated dream last night. I think that’s a first for me. It was quite the boring dream, but the narration was impeccable. I wish I could tell you that it was Morgan Freeman who narrated the dream.

I wish I could tell you that.

But it was more like the voice from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Still good, but he’s no Morgan Freeman.

Paul Simon.

Is it even possible to be in a bad mood when You Can Call Me Al comes on the radio? Seriously. Can you hear that song and not smile? If you're in a bad mood and you want to remain in your bad mood you should not listen to KFOG.

Same goes for Me And Julio Down By The School Yard and Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes.

And to a lesser degree Kodachrome and The Boxer.




(Just kidding about The Boxer.)

Body part slang...

...gives new meaning to that Soft Cell song...


touch me baby
tainted love
touch me baby
tainted love

Important Notice:

I will be AFK all day.**




**Sung to the tune of The KKK Took My Baby Away by The Ramones.

Seriously?

It's only 1:30?

WTF?

Random sentences.

I saw a bubblegum pink Corolla on the freeway today while I was listening to the Cure song Lullaby.


(actually it was yesterday, but that sentence doesn't sound as good)

Who died?

Yesterday I wore a black sweater with gray pants and today I have on a gray sweater with black pants. You'd think I'm in mourning or something.

Mondays are awesome, right?

I saw this bumper sticker today:

Would somebody give Bush a blowjob so we can impeach him?

It gave me a little giggle.

I was thinking about Joan Cusack the other day. Sounds weird, but it's true. I heard the song Edge of Seventeen on KFOX and it started me thinking about her performance in School of Rock. Wasn't she perfect? When they went out for "coffee" and she ended up at the bar with a beer. The way she lowered her head to sip the beer instead of lifting it to her mouth. Genius.

John may have received the lion's share of the looks in that family (not that there was much to spread around) but she's the real talent.

Don't get all offended. You know it's true. I love John Cusack as much as the next guy. You can't have grown up in the 80's and not. But I love Joan Cusack, too. She's a great actress, and she's got a sort of weird hotness about her as well.













Do you think I should cut my hair like this?

No, I'm kidding. I'm not cutting my hair. My hair looks amazing right now. It should be illegal for hair to look as good as mine did today.

Seriously.

I burned my pinkie last night

On myself because I'm so fucking hot.

Not really, it was on a pan while making dinner but I thought that whole on myself because I'm so fucking hot thing would be kind of funny.

Anyway, so it wasn't a big burn but it did blister. And today I gave myself a paper cut right on the blister.

Gross, huh?

Fuck you, Santa.

Just bring the toys and fly away, leaving us parents to put together the mother fucking TRANSFORMERS that suck ass, you stupid fuck.


You were right, J. This is fucked up. I set it aside after a while so as not to throw it off the balcony.

It's still unfinished. It's 98% Death Star, 2% Vader. Close enough.

So...

How was everyone's New Years?