Whistling Does Not Help Me

So my poor Ghetto Bug has been having some issues. Some of these issues require time at the shop with payment coming in the form of one of my vital organs and some only require some minor tweaks on my end and I get to keep my liver which is important to me given how much I drink. Tonight I had to do some tweaking.

Sometimes the Ghetto Bug makes a clicking noise and that means it needs some oil. I have to state here in my defense that I am diligent about replacing the oil every three months. I am all about keeping up on regular maintenance. However, the past year, the Ghetto Bug has been losing oil rapidly. No one can figure out why, maybe it's the off-roading. I have started taking the Ghetto Bug into the oil place between changes to have the oil checked and when I do that - guess what? The Ghetto Bug is fine on oil. If I happen to be busy and miss the between the oil change check up - IT NEEDS OIL. Sometimes I think the Ghetto Bug takes pleasure in messing with me. Like that time at the drive thru window when I needed to roll the window down and it kept rolling itself back up. When that happened, the Ghetto Bug probably did the equivalent of shooting milk out its nose only with oil not milk and that is why it has been coming up short. Anyhoo, back to the filling of the oil. So the Ghetto Bug has been clicking. It is late and I decide to pull into a store parking lot under a lamp. I get out, open the hood, and am putting oil in the Ghetto Bug. I am perfectly capable of performing this task by myself however it makes me feel a little less misanthropic when someone at least offers to help. As I am filling the oil people keep passing me and no one says jack. Finally a car full of guys drives up slowly and I think, "at last some helpful people." Do they stop and offer a hand? No! They whistle and drive off! I understand that the image of a women bent over the engine of a car elicits a reaction in some men due to the featuring of said image in many a men's magazine but COME ON! I had oil smeared on my hands because I was doing actual mechanical work. It was not strategically smeared on me to make my butt glisten. In fact I was wearing slacks therefore there would be no glistening butt or for that matter cleavage because I HAVE NO BOOBS!

Needless to say after receiving only a whistle in the way of acknowledgment, I had given up hope of any help and was preparing to shut the Ghetto Bug's hood when a kind couple drove up and asked if I needed assistance. I smiled and said "no thank you" and as I drove home in the Ghetto Bug I felt some peace knowing that caring people still inhabit this world and then my thoughts shifted to the weird burning smell coming from my engine.

My Thoughts Exactly

My friend posted this on his blog and after I read it I knew I had to post it on mine also, because I am a copy-cat. In the Seventh Year

I'm thinking of making him a bubble-wrap suit

So my step-dad has always been a tad accident prone. For the most part it is only himself that he injures, but that is only because we have learned to avoid him when he breaks out the tools or any sharp or hard or metal or wood or stone or very solid cheese object. We learned this through some unfortunate accidents.

When we were little, my step-dad bought a puppy for us (he knew exactly how to buy our love) and he and my brother set out to build a doghouse. I was inside watching my stories (Nellie Oleson was such a BITCH) and all of the sudden my brother runs in screaming, clutching his eye. Turns out that my step-dad pulled a nail out of a board and accidentally hammered my brother's eye socket in the process. Fortunately my brother was not blinded and we now laugh about this incident and the time I had severe OCD. A few years later my step-dad accidentally removed part of my mother's finger in a freak farm machinery accident.

His accidents through the years involved things as random as sheep, an alpine slide, a riding lawnmower (he rode it off the top tier of our lawn) and most recently an ottoman. Thanks to said ottoman, he now is recovering from a broken hip in a care facility.

As his family, we try our hardest to keep him safe, however we can only do so much. Being the proactive person that I am, I have decided to try and talk him into being enclosed in a giant bubble. The point being not to make him feel like a hampster, but rather to keep him from further harm, because I care and because it would give me something to brag about.

Olga is one lucky woman

No Lactose for You!

So my cute, pale, dairy-obsessed Hoshie has been put on a strict non-dairy diet by his pediatrician due to some stomach issues. This diet would be doable if we were not talking about Hoshie. I am pretty sure that instead of 90% water that kid is made up of 90% cow juice, 8% Kraft American cheese slices, and 2% anger (for good measure). Now my poor sister, who is very tender hearted, has to listen to her lactose craving lad wail as if hope itself had shriveled up and died in Pandora's Box. Hopefully the doctor will discover that all things cow are not the cause of Hoshie's illness and Hosh can once again go through a gallon a day.

My Talented Little Yert

Fighting the man

So I’ve decided that I am going to try and save my old elementary school. This summer a new school will be completed and the old one will be demolished. I cannot bear the thought of yet another historic building being lost in my town. Some of the first buildings here were demolished and a McDonald’s stands in their place – A MCDONALD’S! It is horrific in its generic-ness. This school is one of the last of the old town buildings and I have to try and save it. I am doing research on old buildings and understand that it can be rather cost prohibitive, but it shouldn’t be all about money, we need to preserve our history. Imagine if Europe had leveled everything every hundred or so years and rebuilt – it would look like the newer parts of my town – CRAPPY! Yes I am ranting, but I am passionate about old things! They are awesome! I am using an excessive amount of exclamation points! Anyway, I have a number of plans in the works. One plan involves trying to come up with the money to turn the school into the town museum. They are planning to build a new building in which they would display historic pictures of our town, pictures featuring buildings THAT WERE DEMOLISHED. How fantastic would it be if that history resided in a living, historical representation of the town’s past? It would be frackin’ great! That is my ideal plan. My “if all else fails” plan involves chaining myself to the school. If you find yourself in my town this summer and you feel as passionately about old buildings as I do, please support the cause and bring me Pop Tarts.

Marriage talk with Hoshie

Hoshie - "Aunt Via, are you ever getting married?"

Me - "No Hoshie. I am going to move in with you and your wife when I am very old and you will have to take care of me."

(A look of horror washes over Hoshie's pale, freckled face.)

Hoshie's mom - "Yes and she will be sleeping in your bed, in between you and your wife as payback for all the years you spent in between me and your father."

Me - "And when I cough during the night my teeth will land on your pillow."

He loves his Auntie Via - SO MUCH!

So I go to visit my sister and I am looking for my cute, pale (yes, still - in the middle of summer) Hoshie so that I can say hi. Usually when I arrive I am greeted by a chorus of "Aunt Via!" but that chorus never includes a certain ghostly child because he is too busy waiting for the skin on his hands to graft onto his Wii - then they will NEVER be separated. I always have to search him out and yell "HI HOSHIE!" at the top of my lungs so that I may receive a half-muttered "oh, hi" in return. I then decide that his adorably pale self must be hugged. That action elicits a curt "stop it" from Hoshie and I answer with "I hug you because I love you" and that is answered with "I am playing my Wii" which is code for "leave me the hell alone woman!" For now I will still try to hug him because one day he will grow up and think showers are for losers and then I won't really want to hug him. I will still love him but I have an adversion to hugging people who smell like feet.

Hee Hee

Xanaduuuuuuuu

So this weekend I had a good helping of Xanadu. Granted it is not the best Michael Beck movie, that would be The Warriors, but it still has its charms thanks to large helpings of leg warmers and feathered hair. Plus I love movie guys, they are generally not douche-bags like real guys.

MySpaced Out

So I was trying to find my niece's MySpace page because I am nosy. I was able to find my nephew's and apparently he is the world's greatest sith. Good on ya Drew! However, I could not locate her's. I did however see about 10 billion pictures of kissing couples and 20 billion pictures of some chick's cleavage. Does signing up for Myspace mean that I will have to either put a camera down my shirt or find some random guy to suck face with while I try to capture said moment of awkwardness? I have no cleavage and I don't like to be touched so I am screwed. I have now decided that my picture here on The Black Project is too provocative and I should change it to something more classy - like a shot of my coin slot.

Updates and Such

So yeah, exciting things have been happening, actually one exciting thing has happened - I had Lasik - YEAH! I can now see when I wake up. It is a total trip. The procedure was quick and painless except for the ice water they dumped in my eyes which gave me a massive ice cream headache. I went into the Lasik room barely avoiding running into the machinery and tripping over the many power cables and I came out able to see the features on everyone's faces. I could see eyes and noses!

My eyes hurt like a mother for the first few days (I had PRK Lasik) so I caved and took the prescribed pain medicine. Holy pickles, my dreams were strange! I am blaming the dreams on the pain meds rather than the fact I lived off Starbursts for five days straight. In one of my dreams I was a vampire, only I didn't bite people, I was just wandering down the street, minding my own business when a black bear attacked me, and then a wolf, and then a Shitzu. It was nuts, I just kept seeing teeth coming at me.

Once my eyes felt better. I buried the meds in the backyard where they could no longer do harm to my psyche. I then had to deal with the blurry vision which I was assured was normal. My friend and I both had Lasik on the same day and she was blurry too so I didn't stress. I am still a little blurry now, but I my vision is improving.

In other news I have been trying to spend more time with my nephews by dragging them to movies I want to see. I took my nephew D to see Hellboy II. He was extremely excited to go and let out a squeal usually heard coming out of the mouths of tweens at a Jonas Brothers concert. How he can get his sixteen year old voice to reach that octave, I will never know.

Next I took my nephew Yert to The Dark Knight. He and I both loved it and he spent the rest of the day asking people why they were so serious. Most responded it was because gas was over $4 a gallon. I spent the rest of the day trying to do the Batman growl and I think I destroyed my vocal chords.

I still need to take Hoshie and Chaser to a movie. I want to find something a little less violent for Hoshie since he is fairly young. As for Chaser, I told him I would take him to The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants II. He is a HUGE America Ferrera fan. Sometimes I catch him dressed as Ugly Betty asking an imaginary Daniel if he would like a latte.

August will be AWESOME!

Oops!

So my boss walks into work the other day with pictures from the HRC Gala. He places one on the desk of my coworker and asks, "Do you notice anything unusual about this picture?" She looks at it for a moment and then she looks at me and I'm all, "What? Was I humming Iron Maiden again?" My boss then picks up the picture and brings it over to me. In the forefront of the picture are my boss and two coworkers. And in the background? Well that would be me making a face that is only meant to be pulled when someone lights their cubicle on fire. I immediately had a flashback of me, with only wine in my belly, making faces behind my boss and two coworkers while they were having their picture taken. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but so did that purchase of parachute pants in the nineties. I felt bad, only I couldn't stop laughing so the remorse did not seem genuine. I ended up e-mailing the picture to my brother and he gave me an A+ for my ability to ruin what would have been a great picture if it weren't for the demented person in the background.

Most Fun Ever!

Among some of the old things I hoard are dresses. I found a dress last summer at an antique shop and thanks to the events of this past weekend, I was able to wear it and I looked hot! Normally I would say I looked semi presentable, but one of my friends told me that I looked so good, he would consider going straight for me. Best compliment ever. I think that earned me a hot. What was this fabulous event? It was the annual HRC gala and it was probably some of the most fun I have ever had in my life and it was for an excellent cause so win win.

The night started with me drinking on an empty stomach and getting a little buzzed (one glass of wine - light weight). I was wearing heels and I was so worried that I was going to teeter into the pool, but I didn't. I just ended up squealing loudly when I saw they were auctioning off scooters. I wanted me one so bad. I have often pictured myself riding a scooter down the road, the wind drying my moist pits. Ahhhhhh! Anyhoo, the buzz wore off in time for dinner where I stuffed myself - BIG TIME! It was seriously some of the best food I have ever eaten. I am still thinking about it as I type this. I had a plate of delicious sauteed vegetables and about five desserts.

After dinner my friend made good on his promise to dance with me and I totally spazzed out on the dance floor. At one point I karate chopped some poor women on the head. I forgot my rule about leaving a good five feet of open space around me so as to avoid any collateral damage. I apologized profusely, but she still scuzzed me and stomped away. Oops.

I ended the night riding back to my car with some friends (I shuttled in). We discussed music and I butchered the words to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." I was a tad embarrassed until one of my fellow carpoolers destroyed Abba's "Waterloo." Suddenly, I didn't feel an urge to write a long apologetic e-mail to Steve Perry for ruining his awesome anthem.

She's here and she's operating on a completely different time-zone!

Yes my sweet Squidgy is in town and I am soooooo happy and sleep deprived. Squidgy is on her home time and every morning around 6:00 a.m., she pounds on my door. It's her way of saying, "wake up Auntie Via, my mother has checked out as parent and you must entertain me." I love my Squidgy, but I also love sleep. Her favorite thing to play with me is hair dresser, this game consists of her pulling my hair until it falls out in chunks. She also loves to mimic everything I say. This will come in handy when I teach her some choice phrases to repeat to my sister like; "I need to make a beer run." or "You smell like armpit, mom." or "I'm voting Democrat." The last phrase will certainly push my sister over the edge as she has signed away her family's soul to Mitt Romney.

Countdown to Squidgy!

So there are a little over 24 hours before my cute Squidgy is here to visit. I am so excited to see her, especially now that she has grown out of her crap-smearing phase. No longer are my endless articles of vintage shizz in danger of being tainted by toddler pooh. All I will have to worry about is her tinkling on the books that litter my floor if her mom tries to have her use the evil potty. I think she developed a fear of the toilet when her mom would yell, "NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" as she washed her binky in the bowl. The toilet became bad, like strangers and mullets after Labor Day. It doesn't bother me that she stays in diapers a little longer, but then I am not her parent and I don't have to change her. In fact, I disappear when the room suddenly starts to stink. It is wonderful being an aunt.

The SX-70 with 600 film

So obviously the ancient Time Zero film had some issues. I followed the advice on the Polaroid website and used 600 film with some minor modifications, namely some removal of nubs. The website said you should alter the camera, but this camera is bitchin' and I have no desire to ruin its mojo. Anyhoo, I decided just to put the exposure as low as it would go and take my chances. Fellow SX-70 users did not seemed pleased with the results of using 600 film, but I thought the pictures turned out kind of cool although I have no basis of comparison because the Time Zero photos I took were warped (see previous post). The following pictures were taken in fairly low light because the faster film tends to overexpose easily. The one I took outside shows some overexposure due to the sunlight, but still, I think it turned out okay.

Fun with the SX-70

So lately I have been taking pictures with this ...















... and I love it. The only bummer is that the film I have been using is 10 years old. The results being these ...



















and



















You may be asking why I didn't buy new film, film where the WHOLE picture will develop. I'll tell you why - because Polaroid stopped making film for these cameras two years ago. In fact, Polaroid will stop producing instant film in 2009, thereby guaranteeing that future generations will have no clue when Andre 3000 sings "shake it like a Polaroid picture." Their reaction will be similar to mine when my grandma looked up in the sky and said, "Oh, a dirigible" and I said, "where is it, behind the blimp?"

The whole Polaroid thing really upsets me, especially because my biggest fear is that one day film will cease to exist and I love taking pictures the old fashioned way. I love digital photography as well because I can instantly delete all my crap pictures and no evidence will remain to haunt me. However, one big draw with film is being able to develop the film and print print pictures. I think that process is so much fun. It is almost as exciting for me as that time I discovered the "off menu" Jamba Juice. So anyway because my brain just went on strike I will finish this post with an ode to old school film. Below are pictures my grandparents took of Hoover Dam back in the day. Enjoy!

Not So Smooth Criminal

Me: "Wally, did I get any mail today?"

My step-dad Wally: "I think you received one of those entertainment magazines."

Me: "Where is it?"

Wally heads into the garage where the recycling is kept and comes back a few minutes later with the magazine in his hand.

Me: "You recycled my Entertainment Weekly! Before I had even read it! You do realize that mail tampering is a federal offense?"

Wally: "Oh Whoopee!" (Said in same tone as neener neener neener.)

Me: "Don't think I won't report you."

I won't really report him. I just enjoy lobbing out idle threats. However this week's issue has a very hot looking Harrison Ford on the cover and I would have been pissed had I missed that.

Tryin’ To be Frugal

So yes I went to Ikea and spent money, but it wasn’t that much and I am feeling buyer’s remorse as I type this. I need to be saving money and cutting back on my spending. Why you say? Three reasons: Reason 1 – I think the Ghetto Bug is dying; Reason 2 – I would someday, hopefully, like to move out of my parents’ house so I won’t feel like quite so much the loser; Reason 3 – I want to attend grad school outside the state I currently reside in. There you have it.

Shoppin'

So the weather was nice for a minute and do you think I spent that minute basking in yummy warmness? HELL NO! I went to Ikea where I could bask in Swedish frugalness. Anyhoo I purchased a clock and a shelving unit for my shizz. I also bought some cute aquatic finger puppets to give to my Squidgy the next time she visits. Right now my sister is frantically trying to potty train my cute Squidgy before she starts pre pre school. All she has managed to do so far is enrage Squidgy so that instead of going on her nice Pottery Barn kids toilet (or whatever fancy brand my sister bought for what basically amounts to a crap receptacle), Squidgy uses the living room floor as her own personal water closet. I have to admit that I would laugh if I were there to see Squidgy squatting in defiance, but only until said squatting took place over my luggage.

Desperately Seeking Gratitude

So Hoshie showed me his mid-term report card and he received all E’s, as in E for Excellent. He had the cutest little grin on his face and I wanted to reward him for his efforts because I feel like I’m still scarred from getting JACK from my family for all my years of scholastic endeavors. So I reached in my purse, pulled out a dollar (I’m not cheap, I’m broke) and placed it in his pasty little hand. Immediately his smiled turned into a scowl and he grumbles, “I wanted a video game.” Apparently the E in citizenship only applies at school.

On another note, Black Project posts will not be as frequent because my family just subscribed to expanded cable and I have me some TV to watch.

OH YEAH!

Yep, I've finally watched these and I love them! If I made one I would want it to be "I'm f**king Jeff Fahey," because he's bitchin.

He's Back!

So I call my sister today and when she answers the phone I can barely hear her because Hoshie is screaming his angry little lungs out in the background. Ladies and gentlemen ... all's right with the world.

Hugs from Hoshie

So I have been remiss in my family visiting duties lately what with all the work and letting my hair return to its natural, hideous color (I call the shade sewer rat). So anyhoo, I finally went to see my sister, otherwise known as she who gave birth to the world's angriest child, and upon entering her house a SMILING Hoshie ran up to me and gave me a big hug. For a second I thought I entered bizarro world where angry Hoshie became happy Hoshie and suddenly I got all excited because if this was bizarro world then dateless Via would suddenly become guy-magnet Via and that has been my dream ever since I spent my prom night watching Doctor Who - alone (for the longest time I thought Tom Baker and that dude from REO Speedwagon were the same person). So anyway I quickly realized that no I had not entered bizarro world because my surly niece, she was still surly (she gets it from me) and Hoshie - he still smelled of cheese rather than beef (I'm assuming that beef is the bizarro equivalent of cheese). True I was disappointed that I would still be spending my Friday nights watching Ghost Whisperer all the while being pissed off because Jennifer Love Hewitt has way better boobs than me, but for the time being I could be happy knowing that my little Hoshie loved me, if only for ten minutes, because after ten minutes he screams in my face and kicks me in the shins.

Chewie? Really?

So here are the latest additions to my assortment of old things. Yes, that is Spongebob and Patrick in the picture. I love Spongebob Squarepants! Anyhoo, I would really like to learn how to put new TV parts in the old TV. I am hoping this is something my brother would like to help me with. He can laugh when I electrocute myself.

Besides collecting more stuff, I visited this website - http://abc.go.com/primetime/lost/index?pn=nickname – and received my Sawyer nickname. I found out about this through another person’s blog. Her nickname was Moonbeam, me, I’m Chewie. Upon learning my nickname my first thought was, “What the ****? That is a nickname for a wookie!” Anyway, I was disgruntled until I put in my friend’s name and she received Pud. Suddenly Chewie didn’t seem so bad.

YEAH MST3K!

So I finished this big project at work and it turned out awesome if I do say so myself. I already have plans for next year's. Is it wrong I get an adrenaline rush thinking about these things? Anyhoo, now I can focus on catching up on MST3K which my wonderful friend, Larry Kroger/Jason Bateman loaned me. I am now totally in the know if someone references the "Torgo school of fondling." I hate to admit this but I have gone out with guys who attended that school. I had to put the hurt on them.

Dealin' With Stuffins

So I have been super busy and haven't had time to post. First off I have been dealing with the aftermath of being rear-ended. SO FUN!!!!! Let me tell you, dealing with residual whiplash and the insurance company has been a horrible, stressful experience. Ughhhhhh! So that is about it. I'm spent, nuff said.

OMG! It's Joel McHale!

So this weekend I went to a comedy club to see none other than Joel McHale from The Soup. He was pee-your-pants funny and I had some beer so I was totally in danger of that. Anyhoo, afterward I had my picture taken with him. I was so excited that when I later looked at the picture, I realized that I looked like someone just jabbed me in the butt with a fork. I had this weird excited yet terribly surprised look like "I can't believe I'm touching The Soup guy!" So I covered my face. Another reason for covering my face is that I like to keep my identity a secret. I have many ex-boyfriends whom I would rather have think I'm dead. My picture on this blog would give my living and breathing away. (I am aware no one reads this blog, but I don't want to risk it.)

Sorry - It's All Good

So I have this habit of apologizing for everything and I mean everything. I walk around in a constant state of penance because of the apparent guilt I feel over breathing air. Anyway, I'm at the store today and I get in the checkout line where I immediately apologize because the purchase will need to be split which means more work for the guy at the register and I feel like an evil, picky shopping bitch who refuses to combine work purchases with personal ones. The guy just smiles and replies, "It's all good." He then starts to ring up my purchases and I place my shopping bag on the counter and apologize because now not only am I the picky shopping bitch but I am also eschewing their fine plastic shopping bags - I am evil, picky, pretentious shopping bitch. He replies with, "It's all good" and I realize that I am an apology whore, throwing out "sorry" at any supposed offense. I need to take a cue from the cashier and instead of punctuating every sentence with a barrage of sorries, I should keep repeating "it's all good" and give up "I'm sorry" all together. I can just see myself now, the next time my klutzy as hell self ends up diving face first into someone's fine china, instead of apologizing profusely, I will smile as big as I can with Royal Doulton embedded in my cheeks and say, "It's all good."

Right On!

So I have some truly super fantastic friends where I work, two of whom brought me back this gorgeous Buddha from China. It is handmade (yes people still make things WITH THEIR HANDS) and I love it. Many many thanks to them for being awesome.




















My teeny Eiffel Tower is behind him. He is visiting Paris - one of us should and it sure isn't going to me - I'M BROKE!

So Awesome

My newest acquisition! I had the highest bid in a silent auction. I think my crazed auction look drove the other bidders away in fear. It is from Indonesia and I love it.

Update on my shizz

So my car may or may not need a new catalytic converter. I am hoping for the may not because I am still very attached to both my kidneys. In between all my car drama I caught a few shows at Sundance. The first show was Be Kind Rewind with the hilarious Jack Black and the man of my dreams - Mos Def. I really enjoyed the snippets where they remade certain films (especially Ghostbusters), but overall I felt the film was all over the map as far as tone and the characters were not fully developed - still - Mos Def is hot. The next film I watched was Smart People. This film was great. Thomas Hayden Church has cornered the market on lovable slackers, although, I have totally seen his pasty butt enough to last me a lifetime. The last film I saw was Transsiberian. Ben Kingsley and Emily Mortimer were fantastic and the scenery made me want to visit Russia. Actually every movie that takes place in Russia fills me with a desire to go there. I love the architecture.

My car is evil - PURE EVIL

My car is broken - again. The check engine light is on and only the dealer seems to know how to reset it so it stays off long enough to pass emissions so I can register the bane of my existence before the end of the month. Problem is, there is only one dealer in the area and they apparently have a monopoly on all things having to do with that demonic little light. So needless to say they basically charge such a large sum of money that I will have to start selling my organs to pay TO TURN OFF THE DAMN LIGHT!!!! This has sent me into a funk because it means more debt and more stress. This car eats all my measly attempts at savings and I am stubborn and refuse to purchase a new one because it is paid off and I am going to ride that mechanized hell beast right into the river Styx! In other words, the engine will have to disintegrate and floor fall off before I will consider going into debt on an automobile again. I am already dealing with a bunch of other debt that I want to get out of the way before accumulating more. My car situation would not be so stressful if I had done my research and realized that the one dealer for this particular make makes an obscene amount of money bleeding every poor sap that walks through their doors dry. Last time I was there I left in tears because I was charged close to $1000 for my repairs. THAT IS WRONG PEOPLE! I really wish that people looked out for each other and not just their bottom line because honestly, it would save me a lot of heartache.

Hannibal Frosty

Here is another photo from my town's Christmas Village. I love this one because of the horrified look on the snowman's face. He just realized that by eating ice cream, he is basically practicing cannibalism. The horror! The horror!

Random Pictures

My sister was given a box of gently used shoes. These shoes were among them. She and I both decided that this particular shade of brown can only be described as "turd."




















If you have ever wondered what happened to that creepy guy from Poltergeist II and III, his body has been lovingly preserved in my town's Christmas Village, complete with young children whose souls he can steal.

In Memoriam

My third grade teacher passed away this week and while it has been a long, long, long time since I was in third grade, I kept in touch with her through the years. She was always one of my favorite teachers. I remember how she taught our class to say the Pledge of Allegiance in Spanish (which I promptly forgot) and how to use poi balls (surprisingly I can still work the poi balls at the same proficiency level I did then, poi ball to the eye and all). I also remember the time she put on a class play about dental health. I wanted to be the tooth fairy who got to wear a beautiful dress and carry a sparkly wand, instead I was cast as the tooth decay witch (an indicator of my life to come). I had to jump out of a box and cackle, only the box was huge and instead of jumping out, I tripped and fell out – onto my face. I did still manage to cackle, because at eight, I was already the consummate professional.

When I was in college I had the opportunity to help her in her class during the break between semesters. I was once again able to show off my mad poi ball skills. I even taught the kids an alternative use for the poi balls – as weapons with which they could bludgeon each other. Working with her I was able to see what I couldn’t see when I was young. I saw how devoted she was to teaching. I saw the effort and time she put into making learning exciting for the kids and I realized that it was because of that effort that she stood out amongst the many teachers in my life. She truly cared about her students and I truly cared about her. She will be greatly missed.

New Year - Now With Extra Cheese!

Yes, I did not post during the holiday break from school and I have a very good reason – I was stuffing myself with cheese, the exotic kind with names you can’t pronounce. Anyhoo, nothing really happened except for when my cute little two year old Squidgy decorated the piano with her feces. My sister said she does that because she lacks tactile stimulation. I think she does it because she knows of all the things she can do to gross someone out, 99% of them involve pooh. In addition to cleaning up after poohcasso, I decided that once again I would not participate in the making of New Year resolutions. I don’t like to tie myself down to anything, I prefer to just go with the flow – good way to reduce stress. That is why, when the piano smells like crap, I can laugh while everyone else freaks out.

Stick a fork in me

So I am pretty sure I am done with all my work for this semester and I am hella happy about that. I have been in a constant state of stress for weeks trying to get my brain to work long enough to crank out a paper and put together a presentation that didn't totally suck. In my humble opinion, they only mildly sucked. I can now get all holiday inebriated without the guilt associated with the fact that I should probably be doing something more productive than killing my brain cells, such as watching The Hills. I love that show, Spencer is such a tool and Justin Bobby, I'm pretty sure I dated his twin during the period I refer to as "my dark ages." I say pretty sure because I've blocked those years out, along with high school and the all the years I had a perm.

Busy-ness

Holy Moly! It has been such a busy month. I know that it will get busier with presentations and papers due at the end. I am trying not to get overwhelmed, but my stomach has been acting up in protest of all the stress. Oh well, such is life.

Man Moratorium

So I have definitely decided that for the time being I am not dating. Normally I could say that this decision would not make any change in my social life because I date about as often as Hoshie has a happy day. Lately, however, I have actually had some interest of the male variety, but I just don't feel like dating. I really just want to be alone and figure out why I am so musically cursed. I decided to take up the guitar and thanks to my efforts; I think I have killed some of my family's brain cells. Bet you didn't know that horrendous guitar twanging could do that - but it can! The surgeon general is going to show up at my house any day now and slap a sticker on me stating - "Will cause copious brain cell death when placed near a musical instrument."

Hoshie-isms

Here are some statements from my own sweet, seven year old Hoshie. Keep in mind that almost all the statements were shouted at the top of his angry lungs.

After his sister Jess jokingly tried to bite his back - "YOU'RE GETTING SALIVA ON MY JACKET!!!!!!"

After his sister Jess jokingly pinched his angry little bum - "SHE PINCHED MY BUTT AND I HATED IT!!!!!"

After his sister Jess asked for a second time if he wanted some soup because he mumbled his first reply (in his defense he was in videogame mode and anyone who knows Hoshie knows you are playing with fire if you disturb his videogame time) - "I SAID SURE!!!!!!!"

And finally, just to prove he is not all screaming and anger, in one of his happier moments - "Yert, let's go outside and spin!"

Welcome back Miller!

I am so glad that Miller is back and I appreciate his concern for my social well-being. That being said ... Miller ... the cheeseburger thing ... it ain't gonna happen. Let it go. Anyway I have no time for guys, someone has to document the goings on of the Hoshus Rageous for prosperity. If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I would never have believed that such an incredible amount of rage could exist in such a small package. I believe that because I share DNA with Hoshie, I can stand in the same room as him without the risk of being fried by his anger. Therefore, I own it to others who live with little angry ones to study Hoshie and perhaps someday find a way to live in harmony with those who get pissed at having to share a planet with people.

VIA IS INCOMPLETE WITHOUT CHEESEBURGER BOY

ITS ALLLLLLLLLLLLLIVE!!!!!! ITS ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIVE!! Yes...please please...sit back down. Yeah its me Miller Machiavelli! And, IM BACK! So I miss Via a bunch and all the gang back at da offiz! Well, almost everybody...
Life is good.

So VIA....hows the boy sicheashion? Any authors out there you are after? Cheeseburger boy was a catch...why didnt you go for him?

Brain ... no ... work

So I haven't posted in a while because, well, there is nothing really to say other than - my life is soooo boring. All I do is work, read books, watch movies, drink excessive amounts of Chai and pee frequently because of aforementioned Chai. Oh, one major thing that happened, my crushing ceased. I don't really know how it happened but one day I realized that I felt more of a "hey, you're my buddy" feeling than a "hey, let's make out" feeling when I was around my crush. I am relieved because I hate being all gah gah over a guy. I would rather not care either way and then the only way to go is up.

Hoshie draws to express his rage

His brother Chase obviously enraged him. Let this be a warning to anyone who crosses Hoshie's path - he has a pen and he is not afraid to use it.

Bring on the Distractions

So this weekend I tried to make sure that I stayed busy so I would not dwell on the fact that my crush thinks I'm a troll. I began the weekend by stuffing my face at a fundraiser. At said fundraiser, you pay a set price and you get to sample man cooking. Unfortunately, I arrived at the tale end and the only man prepared foods left were a few pieces of bread and some noodles. I am still bloated from all the carbo loading. On the upside, I was too sick to dwell on my being a gorgon. The next day, my friend and I went on an old home tour. It was fantastimo and I coveted me some old homes - big time. If only procrastination paid, I would be rich and could afford to buy one. Behold - some pictures!















The rest of the weekend I either did homework, avoided doing homework or chilled with my relatives who would never refer to me as nice because I've stolen food off most of their plates.

Kiss of Death

So today I was being good and not obsessing about my crush too much when my friend Chapstick mentions that my name came up in a conversation he had had earlier with my crush. I was stoked until he told me what my crush said...he said that I was nice - NICE!!!!!!! He could have easily substituted "nice" for "I find her as appealing as Larry King in drag." I was crushed. I now know that I am firmly entrenched in the "friends" category and I feel like crap. However, on the plus side, I now have a new answer for all of my mother's friends who constantly say to me, "I don't understand, why aren't you married?" Instead of answering with something like, "oh, I just haven't found the right person." I can now say concisely and without any sarcasm - "I'm nice."

New Old Stuff

So the semester has started and I am trying to concentrate in spite of my raging crush. Why does he have to be so sweet AND hot!?! However, my scholastic work and crushing have not kept me from my number one ambition in life - to make all the world's cheap, old stuff mine. That being said, here are the newest additions to my vintage family:

One rotary phone (IT WORKS YO! Too bad my MacBook doesn't, seriously HUGE PIECE OF CRAP!!!!)













And a ceramic parrot (I found it in our barn)

Red Rider and Road Rage

So this weekend I went to visit my sister. When I arrived I ran into my nephews – Hoshie and Yert, who were masquerading as “Red Rider” and “Tire.” “Tire” being the alternate identity of Hoshie. I told Hoshie that perhaps “Road Rash” might be a little catchier than “Tire” and would go nicely with his red hair. He misheard me and excitedly started calling himself “Road Rush.” As the day progressed, rage built up in Hoshie, as it usually does and by the end of the day he was in full on anger mode (if we could just harness that power for energy, I am pretty sure it is clean burning). At this point, my sister and I decided that “Road Rage” was a better fit for our dear, sweet Hoshie.

AAAGGGHHHHHHHHH

So I’ve decided that even though the crush is back on, I am going to give my crush plenty of space so I don’t creep him out. I know I can do this because when I set my mind to something, I have fantastic willpower (said willpower does not work when food is involved). I think I got all giddy from him paying so much attention to me the past little while. I wasn’t used to that and it kind of made me sick – good sick not bad sick. Quite a few of my friends have told me to go ahead and ask him out, but I am really, really freaked out about the whole going on a date thing. I have had some spectacular crash and burns in my past and I am worried that dating disasters follow me and I like this guy too much to watch our friendship go up in smoke because I’m a spaz. Anyhoo, I also need to step back so I can focus some energy on getting ready for school. I need to work on my writing skills (A LOT) because my papers last year – they were crap. Nuff said.

P.S. You are awesome TP! Have fun at grad school!

Commence Crushing!

I found out that my crush is not off the market. Now, in addition to being extremely giddy, I have been analyzing his every move hoping for some sign of interest. A large part of me knows that I am deluding myself into thinking that some small part of him might like me, but I just keep hoping. So far he has winked at me three times, but I can’t really take that as a sign of something because some men are just winky. One day he spent an hour and a half asking me a lot of questions about myself. The conversation ended with him wishing aloud that if someone liked someone – they would just come out and say it. I replied that some people are afraid to state their feelings for fear of rejection. I left out the part about how said individuals (namely me) are one rejection away from adopting thirty cats and calling it good. Anyhoo, I am trying not to get my hopes up and keep everything in perspective, but then I see him and my stomach gets all tied up in knots and I fear for the worst – I’m completely gone over this guy.

My Boss is Awesome!

My boss - he gave me this chair - because he is AWESOME!

Venting

So I'm venting because I really don't like my macbook. I have always loved my macs in the past. I am not the most tech savvy person, so I have loved that they haven't needed me to be. However, my new macbook is possessed by some evil poltergeist that thinks it is funny to break every time I update my software. First I updated the airport and it killed my ability to find my signal. Being non-tech savvy the only way I knew how to fix it was to reinstall my operating system so I backed up all my 80s hair-metal and I reinstalled everything and WOO HOO I find a signal. I haven't updated the airport since because of that unfortunate incident. I have updated other things. This weekend after updating my software, my mac developed this charming habit of freezing and telling me, in a kindly worded message that I must restart (this happens every fifteen minutes). I restart and the mac tells me that the operating system malfunctioned. I tried to find the solution on the web but came up with a whole lotta nothing. I am going to take it to my mac friends to see if they can help or if perhaps I can trade it in for one that is not defective, as I have only had the thing a few months. I can also see if my old standby of reloading the operating system helps. It is a pain because backing up the ultimate Van Halen mix is no small feat, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If anyone knows a better solution, I would greatly appreciate the help. I am seriously considering letting Hoshie melt my macbook with his rage.

SO LAZY!!!!!!!!

Must write something, but so tired and brain not working.

Check this out

Exciting Stuff

No news is good news. Right?

Complaining and Junk

So I found out my secret crush is seeing someone and I’m feeling a little sad. I am trying to be good and wish him the best, but part of me wishes he was still single so that, eventually, he could see that I am not so bad. True, I cheat on my Pilates push-ups and I hoard things. I also covet the Plinko set from The Price is Right and I have a large collection of Star Trek toys (MIB), but that doesn’t make me completely unlikable (only vaguely). This latest rejection has convinced me to give up on men and take up decorative macramé. I have also decided that I really want a doughnut – the cake kind with white frosting and rainbow sprinkles. I am posting some pictures – enjoy.

Proof

Squidgy loves to dance!

Salsa and s#%t

I have been so wiped lately that I do not have the brainpower to type up a blog entry that makes sense and/or makes sense. Right now I am about to plop my head on my keyboard. I am so exhausted that I would not wake up until tomorrow afternoon. By then, part of said keyboard will be permanently adhered to my head (my drool doubles as super glue). Anyhoo I'll give you a groggy recap of the highlights my week. On Monday, I spilled salsa in my lap and then having wiped it up to the best of my ability made use of my verbal pre-emptive strike and upon meeting anyone, for the rest of the day, I would blurt out, "I SPILLED SALSA ON MY SKIRT BECAUSE I AM A HUGE SLOB AND CANNOT KEEP IT ON MY CHIPS!" To which they would reply, "I didn't even notice a stain." They don't realize I just saved them some eyestrain. I also like to do my part to deter olfactory wear and tear by using my freakishly strong sense of smell to provide information such as, "Does anyone else smell feta?" My comments usually do not elicit a strong response because no one else seems to care that the room smells vaguely of pungent cheese. On Tuesday I decided to try to get over my crush because I feel that my crushing is futile. Beyond him learning my name, I have not made very much progress. I will instead work on the Guinness Book of World Records record for longest armpit hair (the toe nail dream inspired me). Wednesday I ate some toast. Thursday I ate a pita, with hummus, it was good. Friday I tried my hand at socializing and spent time with my friends who don't mind that I frequently reference Star Trek and insist that they call me Spock. All in all, a very productive week.

A Whole Lotta Nothing

So I feel as if I have accomplished nothing this week. I didn’t post anything until today. I didn’t clutter my room with more items from Ikea and/or various thrift stores or garage sales. I didn’t win over my crush by regaling him with detailed accounts of my dreams (I dreamt my toe nails were really long and I couldn’t wear shoes – who wouldn’t find that fascinating?). I did clear some space on my floor by putting some books into storage. Quite a few were self help books my mom gave me in hopes of raising my self-esteem. I found they had the opposite effect – Dr. Phil is harsh.

Ikeaaaaaaaaaaaaa

So this week the first Ikea in the state opens its doors so that we can all celebrate Scandinavian frugality. I am excited, but also a little worried due to the fact that I am an obsessive hoarder. I tend to tell anything that is cheap and old or cheap, new and retro looking “come live with me, I don’t need any space to move around.” Last week I happened upon a surplus sale where I purchased a telephone booth – yes, an actual fit a person inside phone booth. Upon showing it to people the first question they inevitably ask is “what are you going to do with it?” I don’t have the courage to tell them that I will probably spend most nights, dressed as Doctor Who (Tom Baker version), pretending it is my TARDIS. They don’t need to know my special secret; it is between me and the Daleks that live in my head (they tell me to do stuff like eat excessive amounts of pudding). I know that if I go to Ikea I will want to invite almost every item in the store to come live with me so I am practicing some restraint and staying away – for now. I have almost convinced myself that being able to see one’s floor is highly over-rated.

Vay-Cay

So I haven't posted in a while, partly because final papers were sucking up what little brain power I possess and partly because, to recoup said brain power, I went on vacation.

I went to visit my sister and cute little Squidgy. It was fun, but instead of being able to recharge, I spent the week having to wake up at the crack of dawn by having the world's youngest Sarah Jessica Parker fan (more on that later) jump directly on my bladder. From that moment on I would spend my vacation -

1. being screamed at because I was eating something exactly the same as Squidgy, but because it was on my plate, it was like manna from heaven. Manna that was being denied "she who jumps on bladders."

2. watching Squidgy dance during her 5000th viewing of Girls Just Want to Have Fun. That was actually quite funny. I call her dance the "the sumo head-butt." She crouches, with her legs wide apart and moves from one leg to the next while simultaneously trying to head-butt her imaginary dance partner.
3. dodging the world's most psychotic squirrel. I swear it gave me the evil eye!

I also found time to visit the beach where Squidgy proved that while it is okay to embrace perfect strangers in the airport, it is not okay to have salt water anywhere on your person.














And I found out what happened to Don Johnson's long lost Miami Vice stunt mannequin - he has a gig at the Swap Shop, warming Porsche seats.

Unshun

Miller established contact and I hereby retract my previous post in which I called him and turd and denied him the dairy goodness of cheese. There is cheese in my office as we speak and you are welcome to it Miller.

The only way to travel

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to take a 15 minute ride in a Black Hawk helicopter. It was incredible and I had a blast. I was worried because, while I had never been in a helicopter, all my other flying experiences involved airsickness. Fortunately, I always had ginger ale and a packet of cream cheese on hand to settle my stomach. This time however there would be no in-flight snack. I kept an airsick bag in my hands, but I never needed it. The ride was super smooth and the lifting off the ground part was a blast. Anyhoo, I have posted some pictures of my adventure for your enjoyment.

I am completely heartbroken. My thoughts are with the victims of the Virginia Tech tragedy, as well as their friends, family and the campus community.

Un-shun and Re-shun

I was thinking about Miller today. If you haven't noticed, he does not contribute to The Black Project anymore. He has also disappeared off the face of the planet, technically he got married, but as far as I'm concerned - same thing. After he stopped working in the office next door, despite his promises, he cut us all off. He promised a wedding invite, it never materialized. Needless to say, we think he is a bit of a turd. I was going to invite him to my commitment ceremony (me and my TV are registered at Target), but now he is not invited. Miller, you will miss out on all the fries and processed cheese, so suck on that!

Hair today Due tomorrow

So I still have a TON of work left to do on my final two research papers. I feel a little overwhelmed and a little ticked at myself for procrastinating (curse you wonderful, craptastic TV). I have had to buckle down and concentrate on school which means I have decided to put a moratorium on my crushing. I can no longer spend precious brain power on pondering what my crush’s hair smells like (I have never been close enough to him to smell his hair, but I imagine it smells like oranges and hotness).

Speaking of hair my cute, little, toe-headed Squidgy will be visiting next week. I am very excited because I haven’t seen her in almost a year and because I think that by now she is old enough (18 months) to write my papers for me. All my nieces and nephews know that as soon as they are old enough to poop mid-stride, they are old enough to type up my papers. Hoshie is the one exception. I am afraid the heat generated by his extreme anger would disintegrate my laptop.

BOOK SALE!

So I have been remiss in my blogging duties and I haven’t posted in a while. Needless to say, nothing has really been happening except for it being THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR – BOOK SALE TIME! Last week, my local library had its annual book sale and I loaded up, because I have an addiction. I have no idea when I will get around to reading all of my books, but I want to, that is why I bought them. I ended taking my grandmother’s little metal cart and I filled that thing – twice. I can now no longer see my floor because the books cover it (the bookshelves are full as is the space under my bed) which means I no longer have to vacuum – yeah for books! I do however have to keep up on my dusting, because I don’t want spiders making their homes in my books. After Bernard disappeared, I just haven’t been able to become attached to another arachnid. He was special and his place in my heart and in my slippers can never be filled, so I’m not allowing any of his relatives to take up residence among my stacks of bibliorific joy.

Also, I had the most interaction that I have ever had with my crush this past week. He spoke to me for a good half hour, well actually I peppered him with innocuous, non-invasive questions and he answered them in an extremely concise manner. Why do men not elaborate? Does elaboration fall into the frivolous behavior category along with asking for directions? Anyway, he was extremely kind and funny and I was just happy to get to know him a little better. I now know he likes bees – me too – they make honey –honey is good.

Weekend Warrior

So this weekend I went and saw 300 in between my homework sessions. I have to intersperse my homework sessions with something and then go back to them later, otherwise my brain locks up and I am completely useless. Usually when my brain locks up, my mind focuses on something completely off the subject of my homework. I think about my crush, or pudding, or that time I learned that popcorn seasoning must be used sparingly. Now that I have watched 300 I know that as soon as I start picturing Gerard Butler in ancient hot pants, it is time for a break, preferably a pudding break. Of course it is hard to concentrate on pudding when you have so much Scottish hotness on your mind. Anyhoo, I highly recommend the movie, besides the copious amounts of cinematic eye candy, it was very entertaining.

In other weekend news, I recently did my semi-frequent software upgrade on my MacBook and my AirPort revolted and stopped working. I will admit that I only have very basic tech knowledge in that I know not to use my MacBook as a coaster, so I had to call in reinforcements. My sister's husband, the computer guru, worked for hours and could not get it work. I started becoming quite depressed at the thought of being torn away from countless hours spent browsing eBay for stuff I don't need. Last night in a last ditch effort to save my sanity as I felt myself slipping into a technology deprived coma, I backed up all my info and I reinstalled OS X. It worked and now I have my precious internet back. You would think that I could handle internet deprivation, seeing as how I just barely got the internet a few months ago, but those few months have been the best of my life. I now think I know how the cavemen felt when they discovered fire.

Chillin' with Hoshie

Last night, while my sister was tucking Hoshie into bed, the family cat, Oreo, decided to jump up on the bed and try to knead Hoshie like a pillow. While he was being plumped, Hoshie said to his mom, "cats are colorblind."

"Yes, they are."

"They can only see you if you wear black."

Then Why Can't I Understand Poetry!?!

I think my mastermind only works when it is being used for evil.

Hunger/Embarrassment Pains

So I’m sitting in class last night – starving. I go straight to school from work and I don’t have time to eat in between. Anyhoo, we are discussing gyres in Keat’s poetry and I say in a really loud voice, “MMMM, GYRO!” I don’t even pronounce it correctly. Low blood sugar made me do it.

Found then Lost














I recently found a vintage store that I love only to find out that it is closing. I think I'm cursed, every place I love closes. My sister says it is because I have freakish taste but I know that I am not the only one who gets excited when they find a Leonard Nimoy record. He does a cover of "Proud Mary" that is phenomenal. Anyhoo, I spent last weekend buying as much stuff from there as I could, including the radio that is pictured above. It worked great until I saturated it with my drool. In addition to the awesomeness of old stuff, the building the store is located in is probably one of the coolest in the town. I was petrified that it would be torn down, but the storeowners assured me that the impossibly hip individuals from San Francisco who bought it, would not destroy it. If they do, I hope that they are cursed with excessive back hair. Needless to say, I'm sure that they will gut and renovate it so I am going there this weekend to take pictures of the beauty that is old school warehouse. I just hope that my craptastic photography will do it justice.

Nothing to post ... nothing has happened. Oh wait! I ate some pudding. Yum!

I'm hoping he thinks I'm perpetually sunburned

So I saw my crush today and spoke to him for what had to be the longest I've ever spoken to him - one half hour. I was the shade of a nice ripe tomato the whole time and I laughed like some hysterical spaz. The best part was when my friend told him that he had to fix my computer yesterday because it seized up and I said, "it is because I download all that porn." He got this look on his face and I thought, "tell him you are kidding - you would never download porn on your work computer - that is what the home one is for." Unfortunately nothing came out of my mouth. I just sat there, frozen in a state of panic. I now understand perfectly why I don't date and should probably never date so as to save the men of the world from my extreme awkwardness.

Sundance Sweetness

This past weekend I had the chance to attend a few screenings of some Sundance films. I was very excited to go because I looooooooovvvvvvveeeeeeeee movies. Anything that detracts from reality is tops with me. I saw the films Waitress, Eagle vs Shark, and La Misma Luna. I thoroughly enjoyed all three, but I think that Eagle vs Shark was my favorite. It was quirky and strange and it spoke to me. I too hope to someday meet a mulleted, socially awkward, numchuck wielding candle maker who will lie to other people about my accomplishments or lack thereof. That is love to me.

Can't think - must revel in his muffininess

I am in a total fog. I can't even think. I shared a tangerine with my secret crush and it was, quite possibly, the best thing that has happened to me so far this year. I'm pretty sure my crush would freak out if he knew how much I cherished sharing fruity goodness with him. He is, after all, of a very kind and sharing nature (thus his appeal) and shares most of his food with those around the workplace. I just get really really giddy whenever I am around him. Giddy and stupid cuz my mind tends to blank and I look as if I were the poor intern who forgot to lock up Paula Abdul's meds. Thus incurring the wrath of Simon Cowell, who I am sure would suffocate me in one of his shrink-to-fit tees. What was I saying? Oh yeah, tangerines with my crush. Best snack ever!

New year ... more of the same

I used to wax poetic about how fantastic the new year would be. I had all of these ideas about how this year would be different from last. I would finally learn to take pictures that were as nice as those taken by hyperactive four year olds. I would learn to make food that did not have the consistency of burnt evil. I would not forget everything I learned within three minutes of learning it.

All of these resolutions seem doable, but by the end of every year I am still in the same place that I was at the beginning - blurring, burning and blanking. I decided this year, in order to same myself from feelings of failure, I WILL NOT make any resolutions or hold onto any delusions of future competence. I will not only embrace my ability to completely bungle all endeavors. I will celebrate my ineptitude. 2007 is going to rock!

Holidays and Stuff

So I have been sick on and off pretty much through the whole holiday break. I hate being sick when festivities are afoot. I am surrounded by food and I don't have the stomach to eat it. So since I was bummed to begin with, I decided to read The Bell Jar. I finished it with enough time left over to help my nephew build the Krusty Krab with Legos. I have pictures of said Krusty Krab, but I have been too lethargic to take them off my camera. You will just have to use your imagination and picture an eight year old and a girl way too old to play with Legos, squealing with delight at having finished their holiday project and now they can get to the real fun of playing make-believe in the land of Bikini Bottom - I call Squidward!

Sleep deprivation and stuff

So I haven’t posted in a while and it is not because something exciting has happened. Excitement for me is bringing home a brand new jar of processed cheese/salsa. I haven’t been posting because all of my mental ability has been focused on finishing my school work. I have spent the last two weeks languishing in my own personal version of hell – paper writing. It never fails that when I have to sit down and regurgitate the information my mind through some miracle retained, I freeze up. It is like someone threw a wrench in my head cogs and everything grinds to a halt. I can barely remember my name let alone anything that resembles scholastic knowledge. Some people call it writer’s block, some people call it a brain fart – I call it proof that I should never again have to write another paper. From now on I will prove that I have indeed learned something through the use of interpretive dance. Look for my performance of “Hamlet, now with extra Jazz hands” on YouTube.

Thanksgiving and junk

So I haven't been very good at posting lately, mostly because I haven't been around a computer and because I've been sick, like yak up my food sick. Anyhoo as you know last week was Thanksgiving or the day my family teases me incessantly about being a vegetarian. I find the best part of Thanksgiving is when my sister tries to get Hoshie to actually sit in a chair and eat something made up of solid matter. I'm convinced the kid survives on anger and the occasional block of cheese. I never saw Hoshie put any food in his mouth, but I did hear the screams of rage he emitted throughout the afternoon as a result of having to play with actual human beings as opposed to something manufactured by Nintendo. My family was able to enjoy the meal, content in the knowledge that while he may not be getting his daily intake of protein, he has more than enough rage to sustain him through Independence Day.

Chilly

"So Hoshie, I heard that you ate lunch with the Principle because you're such a good student."

"Yeah"

"What did you have?"

"Chili, in a bowl, it was plastic."

Nature Crouching

My sister and I like to go to the Art Stroll our community has the first Friday of every month. Our stroll always involves me drinking one glass of wine and for the rest of the evening having no volume control (total lightweight). It makes for a fun time when you are looking at abstract art, "OH, IT LOOKS LIKE GRANDMA'S FAKE NAILS, YOU KNOW AFTER SHE HAS MADE STUFFING AND BREAD CRUMBS ARE STUCK ALL UP IN HER NAIL BEDS!!!!!" That Friday one gallery we stopped at was featuring photography from various artists. My sister and I started at one end of the room and at about the third wall, we came across of photo of feet, but they were not just feet, they were feet at the beach. It took me a minute before the whole context of the picture came to me and when it did, "IT'S SOMEONE PEEING, THEY ARE CROUCHING ON THE BEACH - PEEING!" Normally peeing on the beach would not elicit such a strong reaction from me unless said urination was occurring on my Spongebob towel. However, I was giddy from my glass of wine and I still laugh at what my mom refers to as bathroom jokes, i.e. any joke involving things that take place in a bathroom. The photo was one of many in what I am referring to as the artist's "urination" series. All featured women in various locations answering the call of nature. By the time I reached the last picture I felt bad for my initial reaction because I believe in the artist's right of expression. This artist was trying to say something and I was too focused on remembering that time when I crouched the wrong way on a hill. As a show of penance I offered to purchase "Crouching in the forest" for my sister, but she declined. I think she preferred "Crouching in a field."

My persona makes most men run away

Read My Result
Take the Test

The SonnetDeliberate Gentle Love Dreamer (DGLDf)

Romantic, hopeful, and composed. You are the Sonnet. Get it? Composed?

Sonnets want Love and have high ideals about it. They're conscientious people, caring & careful. You yourself have deep convictions, and you devote a lot of thought to romance and what it should be. This will frighten away most potential mates, but that's okay, because you're very choosy with your affections anyway. You'd absolutely refuse to date someone dumber than you, for instance.

Lovers who share your idealized perspective, or who are at least willing to totally throw themselves into a relationship, will be very, very happy with you. And you with them. You're already selfless and compassionate, and with the right partner, there's no doubt you can be sensual, even adventurously so.

You probably have lots of female friends, and they have a special soft spot for you. Babies do, too, at the tippy-top of their baby skulls.

ALWAYS AVOID: The 5-Night Stand, The False Messiah, The Hornivore, The Last Man on Earth

CONSIDER: The Loverboy

I tried to get him to meow like that Grudge kid, but he would only scream

So Halloween fell on a Tuesday, holidays are never as fun when they fall on weekdays. How can you truly party if you know that you have to appear at your respective job, competent and fully-clothed, in eight hours? Not that I had anywhere to party, I spent the night hanging with Shakespeare and Hoshie and trying to be in the same room with those two is hard. Shakespeare feels that Hoshie doesn’t “get him.” I don’t really “get him” either, but I am good at faking like I do. I was also bummed because my costume didn’t work. I was planning on dressing up as Stuart from Mad TV, but I bought my costume at the last minute and I ended up looking like Bill Gates would if he had just lost a lot of weight. I had pictured in my mind, looking almost exactly like Stuart, except without the crossed eyes, because my eyes don’t do that (the only trick they perform is focusing exactly one foot in front of them and no more). Hoshie’s costume however, turned out fantastic. He was a ghost and you would have thought that my sister would have laid off the face paint because the kid already glows in the dark, but she didn’t and the result was half ghost, half kid from The Grudge. I immediately asked him, “What does a cat say?” hoping to get that creepy cat sound from him. Instead I received a little non-menacing, “meow.” I said, “no, you have to think feral cat with rabies and a severe case of mange – rrrrrrmeoowwwwwrrrrrrrr.” He refused to say it and I told him that Hollywood would never take him with an attitude like that and as his agent I was entitled to 20% of his candy.