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Archive for September, 2007

Bored Beyond Belief


I do this thing when I’m feeling insecure — I start overcompensating by talking about all the ways in which I’m awesome. I’m certain it is the most annoying thing in the universe. But this time I swear it’s not an overcompensation — I’m a rock star. Why? Because I can play softball with a broken foot.

You may bow in deference…

A friend from school teased me with a tentative invitation to see Morrissey in Atlanta in November. I think I’m going to have to cajole him into living up to it. In the meantime, enjoy this cover of “Please, Please let me get what I want” by the supremely cool Muse.

Kinda bored over here…and, just realizing, lacking in interesting things to say…someone do something crazy so I can analyze…

I’ve posted this before but it just seems appropriate now. Again.

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Thanks Ben.

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Holy Shit. This is about Ahmadinejad at Columbia. I…I really just don’t know what to say except that I’m surprised people like this chick made it through infancy without poking their eyes out with their own fingers. Darwin lied, man…we’re stuck with the shallow-end-of-the-gene-poolers for some time to come… Reverse Vampyr has more.

I know I’m a Jewish lesbian and he’d probably have me killed. But still, the guy speaks some blunt truths about the Bush Administration that make me swoon…

Okay, I admit it. Part of it is that he just looks cuddly. Possibly cuddly enough to turn me straight.

Oh, and I just love Joel McHale. The Soup pleases me.

Joel, Dame Judi & Vanessa Hudgens just relaxing

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Epiphanies and comedy

I had an epiphany yesterday — something I love to have. I went to Atlanta to Tiffany’s for a freelance assignment. While there, I tried on some remarkable pieces so, of course, I felt the need to share with my girlfriends the tale of the 11 carat aquamarine, the 3 carat diamond solitaire and the ridiculous, non-pretentious customer service that had me sort of giddy on the drive home. While relating the story, I told my friends I had never been to Tiffany’s before. This is simply not true — I went with an ex-boyfriend a few years ago to the New York City store. And I realized in the moment that I was aware that I actually had been before that some experiences just don’t exist for me — it’s like they happened to someone else that looks just like me but that I only saw in a movie or something. Sometimes I don’t live in my own life — I let others make the decisions and it’s as if I disappear and those experiences become colorful marble tiles of a mosaic that happened for sure but are cold like marble and should be hung on the wall and discussed later as a way to sum up the parts of a life. There’s no heat in them; nothing I can retain and talk about years later and look fifty years younger because the light flares in my eyes with the memory.

I’m tired of those cold marble experiences. I want the freedom to find those memories that resonate and warm and radiate outward and make it all worth it. That’s why sometimes I can be difficult — I do not respond well to others deciding what my memories should be.

But sometimes it’s all just cause I can be petty.

And I digress…

Going to see this guy tomorrow night with the crazy-cool family members. He’s very funny, very talented and very offensive. It’s gonna be a good time! Here’s a sample…

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Just a tiny note for the day — hobbling around like a gimp is justifying my general idea that people are bastards. From a practical sense, I don’t feel bad about calling the guy in the sports car who won’t slow down through the intersection as I limp my way across — it’s too important that he look like he’s too cool to care, you see — an asshole. Is it wrong that I like feeling justified for my cynicism? Feels like the first step toward bitter… Mom, I need your existential advice…

What up with Syria and North Korea by the way?

Update: I compromised with my mother and decided to buy a gimp shoe — which is what they gave me the last time I broke my foot — since I won’t go to the doctor. On the way to the store for the infirm, a very nice man in a big truck let me out in front of him at a place where I’d still be waiting to turn left. Thank you truck guy — you make me feel like people are okay after all.

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Looks like I’m being put to the test yet again. After doing several passes of this particular turn in dance class Wednesday night my foot buckled on the last — dammit, that’s what I said, the last — one and I strained it pretty good. Same foot I broke a few years ago which is likely why it buckled — it has a weakness you see. That’s hard as hell for me to admit…
So, consequently, I’ll be having to mitigate the dancing — the stretching and light stuff is still in but the hard core, sweat inducing, decompression technique I’ve come to rely on is out for at least the next few weeks. Fuck.
To top it off, people are being pretty mean to me right now. Welcome to my pity party!

But here’s the thing — I just started watching this kick-ass show called Heroes and the new season starts in a week or so and I should be through with the first season on DVD by then. And I can still swim so I won’t get all mushy while my foot heals. And I just recorded my first podcast for the local paper that I’ll link to when it’s posted on their home page. And my new boss is cool. And, because I’ve had to admit that I have a weakness, when I start pounding out the dancing again, I’ll be better prepared and will never have to worry about this kind of thing again. So really, everything moves toward the good. Chaos theory can kiss my ass.

I’m determined to have a good Friday. You should be, too.

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I’m a realist. I am. I know war is part of the human experience and to expect humanity to suddenly diverge from its nature is downright pollyanna-ish. That’s not to say we can’t dream and, indeed, we should believe we are capable of actions saner, more rational, and ones that are built from the spirit of unity rather than division. We are capable of great beauty as well as great horror, as history has shown. So I post this picture as a reminder of what war does to humanity — the despicable choices it forces us to make. I recommend this article as well — it’s long but worth the read. Lord Somber sent it to me a few years ago and that’s why I like him.

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