Rocking the airwaves

Next Wednesday, November 29th, I will be playing a mix of songs from 7am-8am (EST)! I entered to play my mix -- and well I got in! The fools! Needless to say, I have been obsessing about it. I think i finally have it down, but I might change my mind a few more times.

For those of you not in the Portland, Maine area -- you can listen on the web!

Yer mother

If you ever wanted to just try out one episode of How I Met Your Mother -- this would be the one, Slap Bet. I actually laughed out loud. This is a show that I rolled my eyes to at first. I thought it was going to a a Friends rip off -- which I will admit -- it does have some of those moments. But with Alyson Hannigan using her comedic skills to their fullest potential, and our dear little Neil Patrick Harris being a womanizer -- you have to love that -- its comedy gold. Plus, Jason Segal is quickly worming his way into my heart. And, for those Whedon fans, they often use Whedon alumni in the show: Morena Baccarin, Tom Lenk, Alexis Denisof, and Amy Acker have appeared in the show.

Slap Bet, Part 1

Slap Bet, Part 2

It gives other away messages something to aspire to.

Most away messages are lame. Including mine. But this one takes the cake. It comes from my neighbor in black bear country, Emery. He can't claim authorship -- he found it on a raisin hater forum (just think, before the internet, people just sat around hating raisins alone. Now they stand united).

Some time ago there was a place. A place called Hope. And in this place, there was a time. A time called Desire. And in this place at this time someone decided that pieces of chocolate were delicious and decided to put them inside of sugar dough. That was an awesome idea. But then you, the ass-licking, vindictive raisin, got jealous and lonely and decided to be inside of my cookies sometimes too. That was not awesome. In fact, it fucking sucked. You're a chewy, obnoxious, healthy interruption to my cookies.

Links, and I ain't talking sausages..... this time.

Basically, when I travel, I do a little more surfing than usual. I have been collecting all these great links, and why be selfish! This post will be growing as I am trying to remember where I put some of them!

• Nathan Fillion is on MySpace. Oh Cap'n Tightpants!
• The Ripple. For those Happy Hookers out there, aka people who crochet, this is the best link to a ripple pattern I have found. I am deficient when it comes to following patterns, and this one lays it all out there for you.
  
• Six word short stories. Oh my!
• Need book suggestions? Try this site for recommendations based on what you are currently reading.
  
• Reading Jenna Fischer. You will get laid.
• Radio Lab, episode on Time. One of the interesting things about traveling in the car (I have put over 4000 miles on the rental, yeesh!) I scan for public radio all the time. I came across this show last night as I was driving home from a fair. It kinda shook my brain a bit. I think the concept of time is amazing anyway -- so much of life comes down to time and distance anyway. I especially liked the idea of a spice clock. Wake up atin the middle of the night, and can't see a thing? If you have this clock, you can smell cinnamon in the air, and you know its 3am. Smells are assigned to different hours. Very intriguing.
  
• Pitchfork article with Colin Meloy.
  
• Rich Fancher, whoring himself out. Again.
• Dunderball. One of the best Office fansites out there. And did anyone else get the urge to slap coffee out of someone's hands after watching last night's episode? Coffee drinkers, watch your backs.
  

Hotel update.

I am staying at a hotel that is connected with a convention center. I have stayed here before with no other major events going on. And this week, I hit the mother load.

Duh, duh, duh, da-duh! DOG SHOW!

And they are more of the Fleckman variety -- RVs lined up in the parking lot and dogs barking and howling. I saw a woman walking three big moppy looking dogs and she was arguing with them. But in the way you would with a partner: "I swear, if you do this to me again, I am not sure if we are going to be able to communicate. And this time I mean it!!"

I think the scales on me thinking I could own a dog have just tipped the other way.

Politcal songs

I am trying to find political songs that are a little more modern, or fit into these times quite well. And considering I am at work.... funny how things like this seem very important in those stolen moments between TPS reports.... I have not been able to fully explore my catalog of songs. Here are a few that pop out for me:

Empire - Dar Williams
16 Military Wives - The Decemberists
Take it Back - Barenaked Ladies


Any others? Suggestions are welcome!

Update: Hopeful political songs are good too. Because I have severe Decemberists on the brain:
Sons and Daughters - The Decemberists

Vote.

There is still time to become an informed voter. You can't say that you don't know anything about who is running and about referendums and so on. You are here reading this blog, right?

Then google your candidates. Spend some time figuring it out. I am sure you won't even have to research for that long. You know what you want. All you have to do is cast your vote and sway the numbers to your side.

The United States has 100 other countries that have higher voter turnout than it. Does this boil your blood like it does mine? I am just frustrated that in the land of plenty and then some, people don't see any sense of civic duty toward the country that provides more than other countries' citizens can dream of.

There is my two cents. I already cast mine. Maine is a great place to be a voter: as soon as absentee ballots are available you can go in and vote right there. You can also register to vote on the day of election day.

My parents wanted to name me Jennifer, but thought that was too common and went with Sara

Sara may be common, but the last name is not.
I am the only one with my name. I find that refreshing.

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 0 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

His dad was a goat-herder!

This Rolling Stone article about Steward and Colbert by Maureen Dowd just makes me like them more and more. I see the t-shirts that sat Stewart & Colbert '08. I agree with these guys that its more of a commentary of a sad state we are in than the reality of wanting them to run our country. I think we need people like them to poke at the absurdity of things -- basically to stir shit up. And they do it better than any SNL skit ever did.

An excerpt that I really enjoyed:
But wouldn't, say, a President Obama be harder to make fun of than these guys?

STEWART: Are you kidding?

COLBERT and STEWART in unison: His dad was a goat-herder!

STEWART: I'd rather make fun of somebody who is wearing their humble beginnings on their sleeve than somebody who has created a situation where casualties are involved. So the idea that somehow it's easier now -- it's not. Because right now it is a comic box lined with sadness.

Big Tuna!

Why do guys hate the nickname "big tuna"?

Decemberists - 16 Military Wives


Thank you to Torrey &; Tony for this new lovely addiction.


Update: Great article with Colin Meloy

Dog people theory

I am wondering about dog people. People who have dogs and they are an extension of each other. Nothing against them -- I rather enjoy them -- I am able to enjoy their dog and don't have any of the fuss or muss. And when I say muss I mean poop.

So, I am wondering if its easier for a dog person to fall in love? Is the dog kind of practice for being in a relationship? I am just trying to think about the people I know in relationships that are dog people -- and I am not entirely sure if this theory is foolproof. But sometimes it seems that a lot fo couples or easy to date people are dog people.

I live in a neighborhood where alot of dog people live. Walking dogs, carrying their baggies of poop, clinging to that leash as if the dog is tethered to them through a life line. If you open yourself up to an animal, what does that say about you as a person?

No real answers here, because I am not sure if there are any. Any one have any of their own observations? Dog or not to dog?

WHY?

On the road I stop random places to kill time. Sometimes the Dollar Stores have some hidden treasures in them. This time I came across a rare find.

A pregnancy test.

Texts to amuse

Last night I was at a college fair in NJ. Apparently Maine might as well still be a frozen tundra. And too far, while they hold brouchures for South Carolina and Florida in their hands.

I was threatening to pass out from boredom and I texted some of the finest minds I know to send me something amusing. This is what I received:

• Two guys walk into a bar. The third one ducks.
• I saw a 10 foot lobster in Portland and he walked up to me and told me he knew me and I didn't know that I knew any lobsters.
• iTunes now has games.
• Come to our school. Food sucks, we have no parking and you have to drive a half hour to class. (Note: I said none of this)
• Tell them there's lots of places in Maine to hide a body -- that should appeal to a Jersey crowd.
• Picture me running around my apartment naked! Now that is entertainment!
• A picture of an ear (see right)
  

The wedding of the year, 2006.

It was the only wedding I went to this year so I can say that. But it was still pretty awesome. Saying my family got drunk was an understatement.

Let's tell the story in pictures.


My Aunt Kathy and me. She had to be at work at 4:30 in the AM. She did not make it.



The ONLY picture of the bride I got. Hey, she hired someone for that. More aunts and cousins. What you can't see is my aunt's broken hand. Heels and beers don't mix.


My sister and the boyfriend. You will see him later picking her up off the floor. A lot.



My cousin, Nikki, was doing these faces in the background of pictures all night unoticed by others. This was my favorite of all of them.



Uncle Paul's number one goal of the night was to make Samantha dance. Success!


Samantha down.


Samantha up.


Samantha down again.

Unfortunately, I did not get a picture of when she fell down out of the van. That one she flashed us all.

And the end of the story is: My grandmother got so drunk, that she ended up throwing up, and accidentally flushed her false teeth down the toilet.

Movies that I really want to see

I have been binging on Apple Trailers. Its a site that I forget about for a period of time, but then when I rediscover it, I will browse for periods of time that are probably too long -- but I find appropriate when I am stuck in hotels for hours.

• The Motel
• Driving Lessons
• Jesus Camp
• Tenacious D and the Pick of Destiny
• Fur
• Eragon
• Deliver Us From Evil
  
• The Fountain
• Stranger Than Fiction
• For Your Consideration Inside of everyone there is a pig, an ass and a tiger. You are never sure which one is going to show up.
• The Oh in Ohio
• The Science of Sleep

Observations from the road

1. High schoolers in a certain area of the north east (I am leaving this undisclosed, because it’s irrelevant and I don’t want to piss anyone off) wear more beer t-shirts than I thought existed.
2. The worst t-shirt saying: An awkward morning beats a boring night.
3. I thought Hollister was a high school. Apparently I am wrong, and it’s a clothing line.
4. Because of #3 – I am losing my hip young ness.
5. AirBorne is the best anti-cold medication ever. Just a little tab – to be put in water, not directly in your mouth as I found out the hard way – helps curb many sniffles. I recommend Pink Grapefruit.
6. The new Decemberists album is excellent for driving.
7. Hampton Inn is THE cat’s pajamas. Their beds have created the best not-in-my-own-bed nights sleep that I have ever had.
8. Malls are still boring no matter where you are.
9. I am looking for books to read --- suggestions?
10. Hayden Carruth’s Letters to Jane is an excellent collection of his correspondence with her as she was very ill. He wrote to her not expecting any response, just writing to give her a touchstone to life. Its witty, candid, reflective and I can’t help but love the voyeuristic nature of reading some one’s letters. It feels forbidden – and it makes me wish I could have opened the envelope myself instead of turning the pages in a book. I think I need to explore letter writing more as a medium for my own writing.
11. Emails from friends while I am on the road are appreciated – It’s a little lonely out here sometimes.

Question of the day

monomania \mon-uh-MAY-nee-uh; -nyuh\, noun:
1. Pathological obsession with a single subject or idea.
2. Excessive concentration of interest upon one particular subject or idea.

What could people accuse you of having a monomania about?

On the road again

I have taken to writing down random blurbs when I am eating at restaurants on the road. On the road -- it sounds so glamourous, eh? Not quite the rockstar lifestyle, but it sure is interesting. This is something I wrote a few days ago... I am not sure if I get my point across, but for my readers that really know me, I think they will catch my drift.

This is what it has come down to. Sitting at a Starbucks in Connecticut, sandwiched in between a RiteAid and a Big Y, staring out at the various palette of SUVs that stream on by this little strip mall. Slurping on a Pumpkin Spice latte – which I ask for a medium ---- oh no, ma’am it’s a Grande. What can I say, I needed the caffeine. And pumpkin might just be my downfall. That and dark chocolate and ginger.

At what point does the guilt stop? Over buying something at a chain. Over grabbing that quick fix. Are there lesser evils out there? I avoid Wal-Mart (except when it comes to fabric), McDonalds (except when on I-90), Starbucks (except when I am traveling for work and I am in fear of getting lost and have time to kill between visits). See, everyone has their exceptions to the rules. Forgive me for liking the music at Starbucks. For finding this Pumpkin Spice Latte and that Pumpkin Scone quite tasty.

Is giving out free wireless that financially damaging? I just want to check my email, download new podcasts, feed my blog addiction and make sure that I have not missed anything that major in my world of geek related pop culture. TMobile has this place covered, and those little airwaves cost a pretty penny. It’s just charged air, right? Next thing you know, you will have to pay for radio….


Even this damn spell check changed my “Walmart” to the correct Wal-Mart. Even Microsoft knows what consumers must know. Unfortunately it can’t stop people from saying “Victoria Secrets”. I hate that blasted store, but man its like nails on a chalk board taking that damn “s” and adding it at the end of the other word. Although iPod still goes as a word that is misspelled. Interesting…

How do I avoid being a Yuppie? My dad calls me that and it makes me cringe so much. The things according to him that make me a Yuppie:
*Love of coffee – especially flavored
*Technologically competent.
*Own an iPod
*Have seen many “artsy” movies
*Have a Masters
*“Bleeding Heart” Liberal
*Environmentally aware
*Snub various chain places
*I use a laptop in coffee shops. (guilty, right now.)
*I prefer local breweries to the Buds and Millers of the world.

Which, I am many of those things. I can’t deny it, I am even proud of many of them. Does that make me a yuppie? I counter with this:

Things that I do not make me a yuppie:
*I make my own purses. I do not own any Coach. I think they are the ugliest things I have ever seen.
*I drive a 97 Ford Escort station wagon, and will until it dies.
*I have a Masters degree in poetry and student personnel administration. I am not earning any money there.
*Read Comics
*Own several action figures.
*Have only gotten something dry-cleaned three times in my life. That is like once a decade.
*I wear $9 watches that I lose a lot.
*I like mud.
*Tattoos, two.
*I seldom coordinate.
*I have degrees from two state schools, small ones that are not overly prestigious.
*I genuinely enjoy bowling, mini-golf, and bingo.

I could keep on going. But I honestly fear the yuppie mentality. Wanting something bigger and better, never being content with what you have. When honestly, its enough to have what you have. Yes I would love a new computer. I would love more books. But in terms of big ticket things --- I could care less. The whole car thing I don’t really get. Constantly trading up for the new year, model, feature. It’s a frickin’ car! Honestly, I just would like to earn more to get rid of my loans. I don’t like that hovering over me. It’s for my education, that I worked very hard for and I paid for. Or am trying to pay for. I like my apartment that I share with two other people. I don’t need to constantly upgrade. I think that is what is at the core of a yuppie: Upgrading constantly to keep up with people that are scrambling to do the same thing. If people could just chill out and assess what they have, I think most people would be fairly pleased.

This is an actual word

commodious \kuh-MOH-dee-us\, adjective:
Comfortably or conveniently spacious; roomy; as, a commodious house.

I have the Dictionary.com Word of the Day as my home page. Some times it amazes me what is actually a word. This one sounds made up to me. Like someone was just trying to sell a house and they point to different things and say "This is so spacious and...... commodius!"

Other favorites from past days


small beer \small beer\, noun:
1. Weak beer.
2. Insignificant matters; something of little importance.
adjective:
1. Unimportant; trivial.

tetchy \TECH-ee\, adjective:
Peevish; testy; irritable.

vade mecum \vay-dee-MEE-kuhm; vah-dee-MAY-\, noun:
1. A book for ready reference; a manual; a handbook.
2. A useful thing that one regularly carries about.

sui generis \soo-eye-JEN-ur-us; soo-ee-\, adjective:
Being the only example of its kind; constituting a class of its own; unique.


Now use all of those in a sentence!

I am becoming an old woman.

I am looking at fabric online. I know, I know. But I kind of geeked out over this one:

Sara Recommends

Butter Chicken

This is always a good choice at any Indian restaurant, but I found an easy recipe for it. It makes for great leftovers and freezes well too. I was quite proud of myself for making this.

The Monhegan Pie from Portland Pie

Steak, caramelized onions, green peppers, blend of three cheeses and a garlic sauce make this pizza delectable. The best non-red sauce pie I have ever had.

Barenaked Ladies are Me – Barenaked Ladies

I love this band. They are my band. Everyone has some musical artist they have a weakness for or have stuck through time with them. This is the band for me. This album is different than the standard “One Week” fare that most people associate them with. Its witty (I was a baby when I learned to suck/But you have raised it to an art form) and rocking with “Wind it Up”, it grapples with our world in “Take it Back” and just challenges you listen more closely to lyrics like in “Easy”. You might be led astray by the music, but the words are contradicting the tone of the song. And of course I got the Deluxe Edition from iTunes – which includes the second album Barenaked Ladies are Men, which will not be released until January. The song “Maybe Not” makes me want to be in a relationship just so I can break up to it.

Water

Cheap. Refreshing. And apparently, you need it to live.

Sewing from a pattern you made

Not only do you feel accomplished, but you feel almost as hip as Project Runway without the drama. But also sadly without Tim Gunn. Tell me to make it work!

Veronica Organa?

Very, very interesting.

Office Observation #2

Are lunches sadder in sandwich baggies or some variation of Tupperware?

I think the sandwich baggie. Even if it is a sandwich. Though I think a basic two slices of bread with cheese and your lunchmeat in a Tupperware container is trying to be more than it really is. Like its trying to keep up with the Jones' of last night's leftovers of homemade lasanga. The left overs that are most often brought in are of the pasta variety. Either people eat a lot of pasta OR don't eat it all and you are stuck with it for a few days, or it makes for the best leftover. Tupperware typically houses food that is prepared, rather than slapped together. I think the person with Tupperware 7 times out of 10 has the better lunch.

What is the saddest office lunch you have seen?

Blogger's Note: Yes, I hate that I used the word "baggie" too.

Poem by Kenneth Rexroth and my commentary.

The Love Poems of Marichiko
IV
You ask me what I thought about
Before we were lovers.
The answer is easy.
Before I met you
I didn’t have anything to think about.

-Kenneth Rexroth

Okay, this could be the single jaded person in me – but does this poem seem creepy to any one else? Nothing to think about before the lover. Noooooothing. Not a single thought. Granted, I know damn well as a poet that you can use hyperbole or other devices. But, I still think this is a little weird to me. I think if I met someone, and they were like “Oh darling you are so wonderful. I am so glad you came around because now I can think. At last!” I would tell them to piss off. I think that meeting someone can give you clarity of mind, heighten your senses to see the world in different ways, or even see the world through someone else’s lens. It probably clouds your mind blissfully too. This poem just gives me the creeps.

I think the geek in me just peed a little

I love love Brian K. Vaughn and what he has done with comics. Especially Runaways. I read that whole first "season" of it in one night. He is leaving the title after a few issues. And who is replacing him.... Oh, none other than my compadre, Joss Mother-lovin' Whedon.

Oh Wegmans.... how I miss thee!

I look at Western New York with this weird mix of nostalgia and "get me the hell out of there!" (How do you sum up "get me the hell out of there" in a word... suggestions?) I do consider Portland my home, the place that I feel like I belong. But, I do miss a lot of things about it. I love saying the word "pop". It just makes sense, it feels like home. I will cling to that word no matter how many people cringe. I miss euchre. Anyone in the Portland area that plays it? Zweigles -- lovely hot dogs -- they come in white, too. And they are miles better than these little skinny radioactive red hot dogs out here. Lilac Festival. Parkleigh Pharmacy. Buffalo wings that are more than just Franks Red Hot on them and with bleu cheese -- none of this Ranch dressing hulabaloo. Bakeries with what my aunt calls Jewish rolls -- flaky and light and just barely sweet. WBER on the radio when ever I want! Major influence on most music I am exposed to today and back then. And Wegmans.... I never thought I could love a grocery store as I do that one. The best subs I have ever had are made there. They make really good Chinese food. My friends and I would sometimes have scavenger hunts there. The one in Pittsford you can sit in the cafe area, get a great cup of coffee, and forget you are in a grocery store. Not to mention, they practically have employed every member of my extended family at some point. They consistently make the Forbes top 10 for employers that treat their customers the best in the nation. I should write sonnets to Wegmans. But my poor attempts at iambic pentameter would just come out so.... Shaws. Or for those people still in Western New York -- Big M.

I yoinked this from a fellow Fredonian and pulled out the ones I can relate to.

You know you're from Rochester when....

"Waking up with the Wease" doesn't mean that you have a respiratory infection.

The thought of eating a "garbage plate" makes your mouth water.

The worst four-letter word you could say is "Fuji".

Toronto is about 70 miles away, but it takes four hours to get there.

You know that a "Can of Worms" is not something that you take fishing.

Your baby's first word is "Wegmans".

In a city where it snows at least 90 inches a year, they build a new sports stadium with no roof on it.

It can be 70 degrees one day, below freezing the next, and you think nothing of it.

Your low-fat diet is never low enough to exclude an Abbott's custard.

You order a white hot and a pop, and the counterman knows what you're talking about.

You know who Vinnie and Angelo are.

You can go to any mall on a Saturday and see at least 5 people you either work with, went to school with or dated.

You awaken from a deep sleep, look at the clock and see that it's 6:00, but you have no idea whether it's AM or PM.

When 12+ inches of snow falls overnight, but you never thought of NOT going to work.

In winter if the temperature hits 45 degrees and the sun comes out, people walk around downtown wearing shades and no jackets.

There are places at the poles that seem to get more sunlight during the winter months than we do.

Wegmans is somewhere to go on a Friday night, for entertainment.

Half the change in your pocket is Canadian, eh.

You think that people from Pennsylvania have an accent.

Your idea of a seven-course meal is a six pack of Genny and a bucket of Buffalo wings.

Fly me to the moon

When I was in third grade, I wanted to be an astronaut. Everything I wanted was up on that moon. I themed everything I could in my school work around being in space. We went to DC for a family trip and going to the Air and Space Museum was like walking in one of my dreams. I wanted to go to Space Camp so badly. My parents were never in a position to send me there. It was my pony. I really saw myself floating around in the shuttle, floating M&M's and Tang to another astronaut. Looking at space in a different view. I would lie there in my bedroom, and I could see through my window the stars. It was like I had my own block of sky right there, this one square of sky that belonged to me.

I wonder if I have any dreams as lofty as those were. I gave up on it, because I think as a worldly fourth grader, I realized how hard it was to be an astronaut -- how much science and competitveness was involved. How it was almost like wishing to be President. It was out of grasp. I am not sure what my dream changed to then -- but I do remember I never stopped keeping my head in the sky. I am still there sometimes. There is nothing more satisfying to me than a really good sky. Crisp, clear -- sharp points of light reaching out to be wished on, counted on. One of my favorite skies was one night in Fredonia -- Jay and I had gone for a walk and found ourselves at the ampitheatre. The sky was so clear -- but there were a few huge white billowy clouds. They were illuminated by the moon. They were so white and bright against that black sky. I remember just lying on my back not wanting that sky to go away. Wishing that I could make the sun wait just a little bit longer so I could have it. Time is like that when things are good -- wanting to hold it in your grasp, trying to put the brakes on the rotation of the earth. But we all just keep spinning, your dreams changing with the seasons sometimes. Other ones weather it all. Tough, resilent, staying with you.

Caption Contest

Who can think of the best caption for this picture?

Photo credit to Brian Lewis.

Retro dream.

I have been having alot of vivid dreams lately, but none of them can really be blogged... Shameful the things that have happened to Mike Rowe in my dreams.. uh, yeah. So here is one from the past.


Monday, October 4th, 2004

I had a dream where I was swimming in a pool -- like a high school inside type -- with Ben Stiller -- and we got to talking about Joss Whedon. And he said I would kill to work with him. And I said me too!! and then it cuts over to this film shoot where Joss is directing with Ben and Will Ferrell and this woman who kind of looks like Holly Hunter -- but its still not her. Well the movie is called Wolfenstein and Will Ferrell is playing this mad scientist and Ben is playing his scientist side kick. Then some people start getting murdered. and there is this board full of tiles that has clues on it: spatters of blood, axes, weapons etc. and I am in the movie wearing a cape and then someone else gets murdered and Ben Stiller and I have to grab the correct tile and try to solve it, so we grab a tile with the blood spatters and start running down this crazy hallway and we are being steady camed the whole way through. Then at the end is a catering room. I go in there and try to find water, but there is only booze, and I go thirsty. and then I go to this other room (sans cape) and there are some people -- who look like they would be extras and crew members and we start talking about Joss and what he has worked on. And I was like "oh have you read fray" and "Oh have you heard of common rotation" and so on. Then this guy leans over to me and says "You know Joss likes a critical mind, so if you want to work with him you need to sound smarter then you are coming off right now" and I said "Thanks for the info but you are a jerk." And then there is a cut to scene of Holly Hunterish and will fighting and she is winning and she is in a costume where her skin is painted all white and she has the letters on her chest and she has a blue cape and green hair and she is defeating Will and her costume is kind of disturbing because it outlines her womanness. Then the fight and she wins the formula, but then they end up having sex.

Standing ovation

Useless Ethical Problem #1

If you had a plate of food (the most mouthwatering food to you) appear next to you, from out of nowhere, would you eat it?

What if it was prepackaged?

I like geek myself.

What's the difference between a nerd, a geek, and a dork?

Office observation #1

The last two sips of office coffee always make me shiver and go "uuggghhh". Outside of the office coffee rarely make me do that. But, to its credit, office coffee does perk me up quicker than any other.

Goodbye Planet Pluto

This is an email I got on the USM Listserve from Edward Gleason. He writes the best emails to a list serve ever. Not only do I learn something, but I laugh all the way to the moon and back. I had to share this one!

From the USM Southworth Insanitarium
"Mental hygiene is woefully overrated"


THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT E-MAIL YOU'LL RECEIVE ALL YEAR!!

We have been inundated by a deluge (as opposed to being inundated by a
trickle) of e-mails about two planets, Mars and Pluto.

OH, OOPS!!! I meant to write that we've received numerous e-mails
about one planet, Mars, and also about Pluto, which, as it turns out, is
not a planet at all, but has instead been classified by the
International Astronomical Union as a glorified frozen grapefruit.

But first, to Mars.

Although this assertion will be nearly impossible to believe, sometimes
the Internet can convey incorrect information...
Mars will NOT be at its closest distance to Earth on August 27, 2006.
Moreover, it will NOT appear to be as large as the full Moon.

First of all, Mars was at its closest distance to Earth in 60,000 years
on August 27, 2003. This was the Mars close approach that we hyped
beyond all proportion in an effort to make a profit that we hardly
deserved. And, believe me, if this were to happen this year, we'd be
hyping the event without relent again. (We'd be asking for volunteers
to wear Mars-shaped head gear and dance on
Forest Avenue)

Alas, Mars will be quite far away on August 27 and will hardly be
visible.

Secondly, if you ever look out your window and discover that Mars looks
as large as the Full Moon, the best thing to do is kneel down and pray
to something because our planet is about to take Mars right in the
thorax. Even at its closest approach, Mars looked basically like a
bright red star.



And now, to the
once-was-a-planet-and-now-is-well-we'll-think-of-that-when-the-pubs-open-again-
Pluto.

The International Astronomical Union has been gathered in Prague this
month to settle a few tricky matters. (1) Best colours for the new
robes (2) What to do about that troublesome Harry Potter and (3) Should
Pluto remain a planet.

Considering that the third question -the definition of Pluto- is the
most pressing issue confronting humanity today, the IAU decided to
concentrate their non-tavern hours on it. Initially, somebody proposed
an increase of the planets from 9 to 12. The three extra planets would
have been Ceres, a asteroid about the size of Texas; Charon, the one
satellite of Pluto; and Xena, a distant body found beyond the orbit of
Pluto. Very little is known about this body Xena apart from the back
that it is scantily-clad, speaks with a accent, and is violent at the
slightest provocation.

This idea was scraped because it seemed to be far too lax in its
definition. For instance, if Ceres, which is the size of Texas, could
be a planet then why couldn't, um, we dislodge California from Earth and
classify it as a planet? (Having California as its own planet certainly
would explain a lot.)

Well, finally, the International Astronomical Union opted to reduce
rather than expand....so now we have eight planets in our solar system.

MERCURY, VENUS, EARTH, MARS, JUPITER, SATURN, URANUS, NEPTUNE

Soon, we'll perform a ceremony in which we dispense with all the Pluto
as a Planet Propaganda that we've been pushing on children for years.
Join us later one as we toss it all out into the highway....along, by
the way, with all our Red Sox stuff!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Edward Gleason


check out this part 2: to the email


Well, you see, the dirty little secret of this whole thing is that,
well, we're all really embarrassed by odd little Pluto. None of us
want it in our family. Think of Pluto as being like freaky Uncle
Frank: the one who makes armpit noises for horror-struck prom dates,
tells jokes that could make the upholstery melt and who plays "Yes, We
have No Bananas" on his nose flute at the slightest urging (and in spite
of the ardent pleas of those who'd rather rip their ears off than hear
it again)

So, basically, Pluto is Uncle Frank and finally, after his latest
antics of belting out "Achy-Breaky Heart" at jet-engine volume during
little Melissa's 6th birthday party, is being brought with great haste
down into the fruit cellar.

So, at this very moment, you can hear Pluto's slightly intoxicated and
plaintive cries of "What do you mean I can't sing my song?!" as the
cellar door slams shut with a resounding bang.

Check out just how tiny you really are.

How do you feel now? Thanks to David Clark for these pictures. My mind was blown.

Best fall ever.

Falling. Digger. Tumble. Spill.

Whatever you want to call it, at approximately 6:50 I took the best one I have ever taken. And I am pretty sure I can be so bold to make that statement. Here is the sequence of events:

1. Saucier and I are walking down Exchange behind a trio of very slow older tourists who might have never walked on a brick sidewalk before. Granted, I am not one to talk.

2. Saucier gets impatient and decides to take a shortcut through and alley. I follow.

3. My foot trips on a lip in the sidewalk, thus the momentum begins. I take a few flying steps.

4. My comics and a bag of jam I bought for my mom go flying. This triggers Saucier that something is wrong.

5. First thought: “Oh no, my comics.”

6. Midflight I reach out for Saucier. I am seriously in mid air for at least an hour. Or three seconds. Semantics.

7. Saucier turns around, looks pissed then scared. He thinks someone shoved me and that I am being mugged.

8. Contact with pavement. I scrape the crap out of my right leg. Potential for bruises on the left upper arm, right palm, and left middle finger.

9. I lie on the ground, stunned and shaky. I sit up and look behind me. Behind me is a group of no less than 25 tourists, all in the LLBean variations of the middle age tourist uniform. They are all staring. Not moving, just staring.

10. Begin the hysterical laughter. I wave to them and tell them I am ok. They still stand like cattle.

11. I pick myself up, and examine my fabulous scrapes. And truly, they look tough.

12. Walk to the parking garage, and get in the elevator. Saucier and I are replaying the event over and over again.

13. In the elevator, a wet blanket of a woman walks in. We stop analyzing, but cannot stop laughing. I can’t stand the tension, and I explain to her, “ I just took a big fall and I can’t stop laughing about it.” To which she looks at me stonily, and then when the door opened up, she says “Is the floor I get off on?”

14. Driving away, we see the most boring woman in the world again on the corner of the street and she avoids our gaze, and thus we laugh even harder. She so saw us.

Vampires might be casing this joint

Weird

I have to admit, this one got to me. This is not an animation. Its just your eyes moving it. Damn crazy eyes.

OK Go - Here It Goes Again

If I was only as coordinated as this. OK Go.

Though my favorite song is still "Oh Lately its so Quiet". I want to be all friendly-like with someone to that song. *Wink*

Note worthy - Found Magazine

So, I got a lovely email from the even lovelier Jennie Forbes yesterday. She was reading FOUND II and saw a submission that I sent in. It was a stolen computer poster with some very small fine print on it. I discovered I was in the book when I went to go see Davy Rothbart speak and I bought the second book right before hand. I was looking through it with Becky and I exclaimed, "Holy crap! That's mine!" It was quite a thrilling experience. Since then I have sent in quite a few finds -- and I am keeping my eyes peeled.

Jennie Forbes said this was blog worthy, and indeed she is right.

You are on notice!

Sara Recommends

Man on Fire
Ok, usually the violent, stick dynamite up a guy’s rear kinda movie is not the kind I really like. But tell you what, Man on Fire delivered and then some. I really dug this one way more than I thought I would. It had interesting effects and camera moves. It was intriguing. I was in suspense the whole time – I was yelling at the TV, just trying to ease the tension. I can’t watch those kind of movies by myself – better to watch them with someone who has seen them already so I can talk through it, just to ease my nerves. Plus, that Dakota Fanning just gets right to the snuggle bear portion of your heart while still being unnervingly mature.

16 Military Wives – The Decemberists
Not only is this song catchy, it’s also brilliant. I sometimes feel like there are too many songs that are about love and how fucking wonderful it all is. Bleecchhh. This song is catchy, intelligent, and not formulaic.

Hitting the Northeast Heat Wave with two women from Duke
They just laughed at me. They said it would be just like them getting 3 inches of snow and calling it a blizzard. It don’t care, it was still frickin’ hot.

Brussel Sprouts
I think they get a bad rap. Not only are they odd looking, but they are quite tasty. I think they are the geeks of the vegetable world. And that is not a cool group to begin with!

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach
I am about half way through this, but it is pretty intriguing. I think Six Feet Under whetted my curiosity for what happens after death. This gets more into the nitty gritty. Bodies donated for science research and how that has impacted us. There is even a university that holds a memorial service for its cadavers it uses for their gross anatomy lab. It is respectful and honest and important. Will I donate my body after reading this? Hmm…. I am still skeptical though.

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby
“I piss excellence.” So, do I need to say more?

From McSweeneys.net

Reasons Not to Fear the Reaper.

BY RICHIE KULCHAR

His ex-girlfriend said he has a really small penis.

He drives a 1982 Camaro.

He eats tofu.

He has adult braces.

He thinks it's nice that Rachel and Ross ended up together.

He wears one specially fitted orthopedic shoe.

He TiVos Will & Grace.

He can't read.

Little blurbs of rose colored baubles

*Apartment life off campus. I had heard about it, it was like this mystery that had eluded me for all these years, and now, now I know. 11 years in a dorm. At least i got out before I was 30. I enjoyed it and all, its just unreal how it is on the "outside".

*My apartment. I have this cute little duplex in the Deering area that I share with two roommates and and a hounddog named Cooper. My room has four windows and hardwood floors. No elevator outside to make buzzing noises. No drunk people, unless its me with my usual one or two. Which, crazy I know.

*My new job. Have not started it yet, but I just have good vibes from it. I get to travel alot in the fall. Me in a car with my iPod. Its going to be some good thinking time. Maybe I should hire a scribe. A cute one with bedroom eyes, soft hands to hold that pen, and... I mean, thinking in my head is just fine.

*Taking full advantage of my two weeks off. Sun, books, comics, good times with friends. 4th on Chebeague. Its just been really nice after being so stressed out for so long.

*Comics -- Oh my word -- Y: The Last Man is rocking my world right now. I have caught up to the current issue in the past week. I can't get enough. Seriously, if you have not read it, you should. If you don't like comics or are rolling your eyes right now, stop being a fool. Trust me and just try this one. It has great drama, comedy, action. And some boobs. Brian K. Vaughn is quickly reaching Joss like status with me. Runaways and ExMachina are also wonderful.

*This iced Red Eye Chai I am drinking right now is pretty fantastic.

*Total health overhaul. Well, not total, but life away from the cafe and joining a gym are going to be good things. My demon hunter training is requiring me to be more of a stud, and who am I to tell the grand commander no.

*Even though its not as high on the best game scale, the new Gauntlet Saucier and I are playing is pretty cool. The world needs more hack and slash video games that involve co-op play.

*Creatively, I am sparking again. Job and apartment hunting took all of my energy. I am starting to refuel again. I want to actually write a comic. I want to do this shoebox project. I want to just take over the fucking world with words and paint and yarn and cloth and yelling life all over the place. I think it will be a blast.

Happy Birthday Joss

Joss being honored by Equality Now

Before you roll your eyes (Jay Lewis), I just want to have people see another reason why I really admire Joss Whedon. Watch the link. Even if you don't like him, you can at least hear what he stands for.

Up dawg

This one goes out to Traci and Jay. Dawg! Can you tell that I am just a little addicted to YouTube?

You Got Xerved

The intro takes a bit, but oh its worth it to see Wolverine break it down.

How can you not love Stephen Colbert?

Once again, my adoration cannot be harnessed by mere words on a blog.

Subliminal sock message.

So my mother is hilarious. The kind of hilarious without even knowing it. Not only am I stressing about finding a job, and a place to live and pack up my life in to boxes -- which is an odd concept really, she sent me a pair of socks. They are those little happy bunny socks that say " boys suck" or "you smell" or something else like that. She gave me the answer to all my problems in this pair of socks with a saccarine green cheerful bunny with a message. They say:

"Hooray for guys with money".

Thanks Mom. Thanks.

THE GEEK 100

'ToyFare' ranks the 100 moments that drove fans wild.

Some of my favorites:

68. COLOSSAL COMEBACK
Death and resurrections in comics. Yep, crappy comic writers use that crutch to hide their “skills.” But not here. Undoing one of the lamer deaths in comics, Joss Whedon gives fans one of the best images in comics in the past 10 years. When Kitty finds her long-lost love Colossus in the pages of Astonishing X-Men #5, it was a shock, a thrill and a heartache, all in one instantly classic moment. (September 2004)

61. ANGEL OF DEATH
Joss Whedon’s scrappy Buffy the Vampire Slayer revealed real bite in the second season finale when Buffy had to slay her evilized vampire lover Angel…just when he’d gotten back his soul. We don’t recall Gidget ever having this problem. (May 19, 1998)

53. HARRY PLOTTER
Remember reading Sorceror’s Stone and thinking, “Oh, very clever, Children’s Book…we totally can’t tell Snape’s the bad guy.” Then Harry pulls Quirrel’s turban off and in one disturbing-as-hell image we finally realize—this is no mere kids’ book we’re dealing with. This J.K. Rowling broad, she might go places. (September 1, 1998)

47. MAGNETO’S GREAT ESCAPE
Supervillains in film were usually of the mustache-twirling, master-plan-having variety. So when we saw Magneto in X2 leeching out the iron in a guard’s blood and using the metal to kick seven kinds of ass to break out of prison, we realized the world now knew what we always did…supervillains are some scary mothertruckers. (May 2, 2003)

32. LORD OF THE RACK
The only thing better than finally getting into the theater to see a long-ass new Lord of the Rings flick? Getting the longer-ass special edition DVDs. Hey, Hollywood: film all your movies with an extra hour. Unless they have Ben Affleck in ‘em. (November 12, 2002)

11. A LONG TIME AGO, WHEN THESE MOVIES DIDN’T SUCK...
The sparkling Lucasfilm logo, the silent fade into “Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”, then—waitforit, waitforit—that blaring orchestra! Those giant stylized letters! The trumpeting arrival of the text crawl! George, we might be tough on you now, but thank you. (May 25, 1977)

Sara Recommends

Peanut Butter-Jelly-Fluff Sandwiches
Those that are familiar with the fluffernutter may agree that it is a fantastic treat for your mouth, BUT, it may leave you with that awkward sticky mass in your mouth. Well, the jelly not only helps to cut that, but adds a whole new dimension to the sandwich. It is quite a treat for your mouth, and your mind thinks, how lovely it is that this simple concoction can make you so content.

Packing your books in small boxes
They are easier to lift.

Throwing crap out
Now, I will donate and salvage as much of my junk as I can, but sometimes it just needs to be recycled/thrown out. When I lived in Springfield, I had a penchant for collecting those Snapple elemental bottles. Remember those drinks: Fire, Air, Earth, Lighnting. Some of them were gag worthy – I was a strict Fire gal – but I thought the bottles were pretty. I almost packed them up. And looking back, I think they are much happier recycled. Other things I have thrown out that I thought I was going to do something with: a huge jar full of bottle caps, old clippings from magazines that had great colors in them meant for decoupage, the sides of six packs that I used to send out as postcards.

Brianna’s Asiago Ceasar Dressing
I could eat bowlfuls of grape tomatoes covered in a smattering of this dressing.

Hand and Foot
Card game that involves an insane amount of cards. Can take forever depending on how many people you have playing, but is really satisfying when you complete books and keep on going. Definite card game for power outages or cold weather.

Poem by Dana Gioia

Beware of Things in Duplicate…

Beware of things in duplicate:
a set of knives, the cufflinks in a drawer,
the dice, the pair of Queens, the eyes
of someone sitting next to you.
Attend that empty minute in the evening
when looking at the clock, you see
its hands fixed on the same hour
you noticed at your morning coffee.
These are the moments to beware
when there is nothing so familiar
or so close that it cannot betray you:
a twin, an extra key, an echo,
your own reflection in the glass.

-Dana Gioia

Poem by Jim Harrison

Mother Night

When you wake at three AM you don't think
of your age or sex and rarely your name
or the plot of your life which has never
broken itself down into logical pieces.
At three AM you have the gift of incomprehension
wherein the galaxies make more sense
than your job or the government. Jesus at the well
with Mary Magdalene is much more vivid
than your car. You can clearly see the bear
climb to heaven on a golden rope in the children's
story no one ever wrote. Your childhood horse
named June still stomps the ground for an apple.
What is morning and what if it doesn't arrive?
One morning Mother dropped an egg and asked
me if God was the same species as we are?
Smear of light at five AM. Sound of Webber's
sheep flock and sandhill cranes across the road,
burble of irrigation ditch beneath my window.
She said, "Only lunatics save newspapers
and magazines," fried me two eggs, then said,
"If you want to understand mortality look at birds."
Blue moon, two full moons this month,
which I conclude are two full moons. In what
direction do the dead fly off the earth?
Rising sun. A thousand blackbirds pronounce day.


-Jim Harrison

Pop vs. Soda

The battle wages on...


Thanks to Jay Lewis for this one.

And by the way, it's pop.

Letters

I am reading this book, Which Brings Me to You by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott, that is hitting too close to home for me at times. Basic premise -- this man and woman meet at a wedding, and have an instant connection, but decide to write to each other and confess to each other. With each letter there is an unfolding and deeper connection to each other. It is totally voyueristic to read and thrilling.

Some passages that totally get to me:

"My own kind. I am not sure there is a name for us. I suspect we’re born this way: our hearts screwed in tight, already a little broken. We hate sentimentality and yet we are deeply sentimental. Low-grade Romantics. Tough yet susceptible. Afflicted by parking lots, empty courtyards, nostalgic pop music. When we cried for no reason as babies, just hauled off and wailed, our parents seemed to know, instinctively, that it was not diaper rash or colic. It was something deeper that they couldn’t find a comfort for, though the good ones tried mightily, shaking rattles like maniacs and singing “Happy Birthday” a little louder than called for. We weren’t morose little kids. We could really be happy.

Once there may have been an early tribe of us. We’d have done alright at cave wall art, less so at hunting. We’d have only started a war if traumatically bored. (Boredom is our most dangerous mood.) But most likely we broke up and scattered. The number one cause: over-whelming distraction.

A wedding is the worst scenario. We’re usually single—surprising, I know—and least comfortable when socially required to say Awww, about kittens, sure, or greeting cards, and, in the present case, horrible toasts where weepy accountants say things like: To the happy couple. Reach for the stars! Weddings are riddled with enforced awwwing."


And here is a part from a letter:

"I’m not sure what to tell you. This is a weirdo scenario we’ve gotten ourselves into. There’s no present-tense relationship to pad the wreckage of the past, no body language to read, no domestic clues to inspect (for me it goes: CD collection, bookshelf, refrigerator, mattress, not necessarily in that order.) no first awkward meal with friends. No first night together, no first morning, no first fight, or reconciliation. I have no idea how you spend your days, or where you live, and, most important, no clear sense of what you’d order at my favorite taqueria, or whether the menu (a field of faded Polaroids taped to the front window) would enthrall you as it does me.

What’s even weirder: I can’t bring myself to disclose this thing—whatever it is, a written audition, an extended power-flirt—to the appropriate confidants. It feels too intimate and fragile, maybe even desperate. And yet I find myself working on these letters at all hours, skipping brunches and movies. (Already I’m blowing off my friends for you.) The mail has become this major event. I count the days between letters. It’s like I am in prison…… And beneath all this fancy throat-clearing, here’s what I really want to say (as much to myself as to you): Don’t stop. I mean it, Jane. Ever famous case of love boils down to reckless honesty. That’s what’s happening here, I think. We’re both smart enough to know this might not work, probably won’t. But that the chance to tell the truth, the whole truth, the whole truth, doesn’t come along too often."


I have not even finished it, and already its picking away at the places I slapped that band aid on. I have always been a big letter writer -- I have one amazing friendship because of it. Two times other than that it was more. Neither ended well at all, but it was still thrilling. Sending the words and waiting on singing pins and needles for the response. It is the best anticipation I have ever had in my life. The one with the bookstore guy was kind of epic. Well, that is being kind of pretentious there, eh? But it was big. I mean I sent a letter to a stranger and addressed it "To the man in the jaunty cap". And it got to him. It was one of the bravest things I have ever done romantically. I had a few of those customer to cashier small talk chats, but nothing more. He was a complete stranger and would never know me if we passed on the street. Unfortunately, he was in a relationship, but he continuted to write. And it was secret and scary and felt forbidden and maybe a little dangerous. We never met, and he faded away to Rhode Island of all places, and told me we could not write again. The letters, this blind correspondence is a shield I use. I can be thrilling, honest as painfully possible, and maybe even a little beautiful with my words. In person, I fumble, and am seen for my physical presence which can block out anything that my words would have portrayed. Plus I snort when I laugh, and its kinda off putting really. Reading this novel is feeling that all over again, and I wish I had someone to write to again in a way. Be honest and ramble, and just lavish in the words and discoveries that can exist.

Reflections of the past

Can I just note a few things here?:
*Walkman, I think it was powered by water, it was that old. AND its clipped onto the belt. Whoa.
*Me, on the cusp of geekdom
*My sister, still cute. Me, so not.
*What made me have that expression?
*Sweater vests... aspirations of librarian perhaps

Dating Tip #342

Granted, I might not be the most experienced person out there when it comes to the world of dating and all the wonders it has to offer. But I do possess keen skills of observation and listening. Basically I am saying, I listen to everyone who messes up and succeeds and try my hand from there. So with that said, here is one of my tips"

#342
When online dating, do not send this as your first message:

Do you like to be orally pleasured.
Paul


This, I assure you is no joke. While it was polite of him to ask, it does seem a bit forward. Not to mention, because of the lack of an actual question mark, I am led to believe that Paul does not have "Manners" in his social tool box. If you must know, 1. I did not reply and 2. If you know me at all, you know the real answer.

Sometimes, I think I should have been a Dear Abby or something. Cross me with Abby and Jerri Blank doing advice and Dan Savage and we might have a deal.

Not to giggle like a 13 year old, but....

Check out the word of the day

I did not think about it being an actual word until I realized, oh highest honors you can receive with grades and so forth.

Back to our regularly scheduled maturity....

Good day/bad day

Good: Six Feet Under Season 5 out on DVD today
Bad: Netflix says "Short Wait". Do they know who I am? Pffft.

Good: Slept well...
Bad: Until 9... work schmork

Good: Hanging out with the Dynamic Duo tonight.
Bad: There is no bad there. Unless Torrey talks about his goiters. And then, its all over.

Good: Burt's Bees Orange Face Cleanser. Something about this reminds me of being a kid. Its bright orange, smells great, and it looks a little like marmalade when you are putting it on. It's a great tactile feeling in the morning. Plus, when my sister was little she had excema and mom would have to put cream on her, and she hated it. So my mom would joke around and be like, "Ohhhh I am putting peanut butter on you. Here is the fluffernutter!" And my sister would laugh too hard to even worry about the hating of the cream.
Bad: For a crappy complexion. I am glowing.

Poem by Alan Ziegler

Love At First Sight

It was a novelty-store and he went in just for the novelty
of it. She was in front of the counter, listening to the old
proprietor say: "I have here one of those illusion paintings,
a rare one. You either see a beautiful couple making love,
or a skull. They say this one was used by Freud himself on
his patients—if at first sight you see the couple, then you are
a lover of life and love. But if you focus on the skull first,
you're closely involved with death, and there's not much hope
for you."
With that, the proprietor unwrapped the painting. They
both hesitated, looked at the picture, then at each other. They
both saw the skull. And have been together ever since.

-Alan Ziegler

100 Best First Lines from Novels from the American Book Review

Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. —Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)

Do you think there are any that were missed? Or any that just do not belong. Some of them I questioned, but I think that is part because I have not read the novel, so the context is lost. Like the Slaughterhouse Five first line is good, but more textured when put into context of the novel(All this happened, more or less.). Same with Morrison's Beloved first line (124 was spiteful.).

But others are just brilliant on their own (at least to me):

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
—Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.
—C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person.
—Anne Tyler, Back When We Were Grownups

He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.
—Raphael Sabatini, Scaramouche

When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.
—James Crumley, The Last Good Kiss

Reasons why you should hire me

*I am good at smiling.
*My mom will bake for you.
*I can make the Xena yell and weird dolphin noises.
*I know how to make animal balloons. Specifically a dog, parrot, flower and a turtle.
*Knowledge of random information
*I can knit and crochet, isn't that diverse?
*Professional clown. Auguste, but I know whiteface and hobo. Hmm, let's be impressed instead of frightened.
*I make killer milkshakes.
*Proficient in resumes.
*I know a lot of poets. Wait, don't walk away, we are cool... trust me
*Okay, I realize that saying you are cool decreases the actual amount of cool you have. And knowing is half the battle, eh?

Things that, as my friends, you need to remind me to never do again

* Go to Denny's after midnight.

* Go to Denny's and order anything involving grease. Just convince me to get ice cream.

* Go to Denny's. Ever.

Post-Oscar rant

Best Picture: Crash

I demand a recount.

REMINDER!!

Poetry Reading at Geno's

Robin Merrill, Kristin Reiff & ME!

Thursday, Feb 23, 8 p.m.
Geno's
Congress St.
Portland, ME.
$3 cover. 21+.

I am reading with two other lovely Stonecoasters, and with musical accompianment! Poetry with the rockstar image it deserves!

WARNING -- Geno's gets pretty cold. Bring layers!

from McSweeneys.net

If Poets Named Breakfast Cereals.

BY JOSH MICHTOM

Orgasmic Clusters of Searing Pain

Bran and Plump Raisins, Pregnant With Earthy Promise

Opalescent Flakes of Lonely Night

The Sharpness of a Breath of Winter Air (with real strawberries)

Cookie-Crisp

Sara Recommends

Etsy.com
A place to buy all those cool funky handmade things that you just can’t find at the Gap. No matter how authentic their cable knits may look! You can also sort items by color! Plus, you can sell your things on there as well. It’s more than just your typical doilies and tissue box covers you find at summer craft fairs. They have a whole section devoted to geekery. They also sell zines, which is a good forum because sometimes they are hard to find. And if anyone wanted to buy me these, I would love you long time. Or maybe not…

Pop Candy Blog
I have to admit, no matter how artsy I may come off – or not – I loves me my pop culture. I am selective about what I do watch and become a fan of, but what happens to all the rest I have a fleeting curiosity in? Thanks to Whitney, the writer of USA Today’s blog, she gives me quick hits on things I want just peruse. What I like about her is that she seems to be a discriminating connoisseur. Plus she has a link to Whedonesque on her blog. Most fans of Joss, are friends of mine.

Pumpkin Whoopie Pies
I never realized that whoopie pies were such a phenomenon until I moved out to New England. I don’t even think I ate one until I was out here. And, sorry, I am a transplant, I have never really enjoyed them that much. I love the first two bites, but after that, I am done with them. Until, I found, at our beloved Portland Public Market, a pumpkin whoopie pie. Pumpkin cookie with a cream cheese center. Now that is a whoopie I can stand behind. I made some last night…. And they are delicious.

The Ricky Gervais Podcast
You need to listen to it to believe how funny it is. I would try to sum it up, but I don’t think I could do it justice.

Curling
Oh my god, I love this sport. I think the accuracy and speed elements of this are fascinating. The way the players just glide on the ice, swishing those brooms so fast. Not to mention, one of the Italian players could be my skip any day.

Penn & Teller’s Bullshit
I just rented some of the first season – they debunk different things: talking to the dead, alternative medicine, alien abduction, and so on. It’s like freakshows on parade, but it does not seem too condescending to me. Penn is talking about how we as people are fallible too, and it’s understandable how we fall for some of these hoaxes. Plus, I am totally charmed by Teller. Don’t ask me why.

Poem by Leon Rooke

Martha Stewart Living

A man at the Dominion was looking long and hard
at chicken breasts, first at economy trays
then at smaller portions, finally hefting the smaller
and saying to the woman nudging his rear, 'Do you suppose
these are free-range chickens?' The woman shouldered
him aside. She was in a hurry, she said, and in no mood
for asinine chit-chat. 'But no,' she said, scurrying away,
'I don't suppose those are free-range. I suppose those
are dead chickens.' At which point, or actually about thirty
seconds later, the man said to me, 'Some days I am happy
I never married.'

-Leon Rooke

Ramble-rouser

I have never really liked this time of year. I come off the New Year’s high of feeling like the world is mine to conquer and settle into the midwinter blues. And I don’t mean like I am depressed and moping. My blues tent to be just that blue-tinted. I question things. I get restless. I get restless in the fall too – but I feel like more spritely about it – I take action and stir shit up (i.e. send an anonymous love letter to a stranger that works at a bookstore. Which I think may be one of the greatest romantic moves I have ever made.). But this late January – early February funk just makes me antsy. Historically, it’s never been a good time for me, and I will save the sob fest. That is not what I am here to do.

What am I here to do? And maybe there is my grandest question of them all. I am feeling all this creative energy pooling in me and its just latent and wants to rise up and pulse through me. And I want it to be bigger than me in a way. I want partners in creation crime. I just want to make something. Words, yarn, drawing, stitches, quilts, messy, paints, neat, whatever… its just sitting there wanting to be done. Maybe a geek girl zine, a comic book written in poetry, a video game that travels through time and fantasy lands, a podcast about writing and pop culture, make purses with little monsters embroidered on them, quilts with words stitched into them…. I am just so restless. I am not sure if I am ready for all that right now. Maybe this is where I need to pull my prominent P (those MBTI savvy, that was a shout out for you) and just brainstorm and get it all sketched out on paper… then worker bee my way through it when I am in a different space.

I feel like I am split in two. Artist and College Professional. I like them both. But if I had to pick one for a long term – it would be Artist working a shit part time job, with a substantial nest egg to be secure. College Professional would miss all the people, and she really does want to work at a college, helping students figure out who they might just be. But she always envies the person who goes off to do those artistic endeavors and fears she is not brave enough.

So, does any one have a job for me come June? I am just saying…

Stories that are better than how I really cut my hand

I cut my hand on a glass last night and got two stitches today. I am now roughed up a bit. But I was thinking, I need some better reasons for why I cut my hand other than I was doing dishes.

Ideas:

-The glass spoke to me and said, "Enough of this pansy-ass water! Fill me with whiskey!" and then it bit me.

-I had to smack a bitch. Through pane glass.

-Chuck Norris was teaching lessons on the Spike channel, and I forgot that Chuck's skin is tougher than steel and was once taken to graft a hole in navy tankers.

-There was a white rabbit through the looking glass. I swear.

-I saved a baby. And a puppy, and like 4 kittens. From a huge fire. And only got this one scratch.

-Things got a little too wild in the .... uh, yeah. Not gonna tell you.


Any other ideas?

Sara Recommends

Smiling Hill Coffee Milk
I am a skim milk person by nature, but sometimes the whole milk with a splash of lovely flavoring is just heaven in a mug. And I love the old glass bottle it comes in. It reminds me that something as simple as milk is not to be taken for granted.

Headphones
We all know that the iPod changed my life. You joke until you know. But I hate those damn earbuds. Give me headphones. Far superior to those damn ear buds. And they have improved since I was a kid, they now come in a style that fits over the ears and behind the head -- and are still hidden by my hair. I remember when I was in high school I always felt like I had my own personal soundtrack walking down the hall. It made my observations of people different. They moved to music, to lyrics. I find myself doing that now.


Knitting
I recently learned how to perl after getting the knit stitch down. I have been crocheting for a long time and its nice to learn something new. But some how knitting seems to carry more street cred with the crafters. Don't worry, I am not giving up on my crochet roots. Yeesh, I do have some integrity.

JK Rowling getting her fine self back the the computer and work on book 7.
I am just saying.

My Life Without Me
This movie manages to do what other movies like Stepmom fail at again and again. Stepmom pushes those sentimental buttons that make you cry like a sieve, but you hate yourself for it afterwards. Sarah Polley plays the main character, who at age 23 and with two daughters and her husband all living in a trailer in her mom's backyard, finds out she is going to die in two months. She does things she has always wanted to do, and does ordinary things that we all take for granted. It's beautiful and raw, and honest, and purely organically sentimental. The good kind that is reflective and does not leave you with scummy feeling.

Not making a music video for a period movie that involves a mediocre pop song and the star in a modernized version of their period costume prancing and looking moody.
Girl with a Pearl Earring. Great film, but the video cheapened it a bit, and made no sense whatsoever.

Frankenstein Day
February 14th. Um, I can't wait! This by far is the best holiday in February. Let's look to Mr. Ham for some more guidelines on it.

Keeping your old college textbooks just in case someone needs to use it.
I knew there was a reason I hung onto all those old clunky psych textbooks! That someday, eight years later a friend would need to find an obscure therapist that was ungoogable. Yes, I said it, un-googable. We used books, yes books, to find him!

Sad Bastard Song for the moment
Sideways - Citizen Cope

Let's get it on song for the moment
Juicy - Better Than Ezra

Song to mock your friends who maybe trying the dating world by singing it to them loudly in parking lots for the moment
All out of love -- Air Supply

iPod 4 evah

So, to quote Jay on this: "This is the best thing to happen to me musically since I discovered Bob Dylan."

Yes, it's a sickness, but I have felt the evolution of my music listening turn round and round.

So I want to make some good playlists and need some suggestions. The following playlist titles are in the works and I want recommendations for songs to put in each of them:

-Sad bastard songs - songs that basically are wallowy and just good for those broody days

-Screw you and your little dog too - revenge, breakup, angry, pissed, and kinda cranky

-Let's get it on - songs to knock boots to, but maybe more preferably to make out to. Kissage tunes are always a plus.

-Batmobile on a sunday afternoon - songs that are great for driving and all around fun, and this could morph into the dance mix as well... Batman and Robin Jungle Boogie maybe.... but never ever the Superman shuffle.



Please recommend. I love hearing what people have to say about music. Except you. Don't look behind you, you know who you are. Ah, ah, ah, no pouting. Just accept the truth.

Total shameless self promotion

February 23rd @ Geno's on Congress Street
Poetry Night
with musical accompaniment to the poets

Featuring Robin Merrill, poet goddess who is not afraid of boots or Mary Kay,
and two other poets to be named, and..... me.

Yes, kids here it is, my big break. The deal is the poet reads and the band... yes BAND,grooves out to what the poet is performing. Its only 3-4 poems, but daaaaaamn, does it sound cool. I am going to check it out this month so I can see what Robin got me into. Nervous much? So, come and check it out, pencil in your calendars, book your flights, get the horse ready for a trip, because I am hoping to live up to the rockstar label Baron gave me!

Babel

This website, Lost In Translation, will take your English phrase, translate it to two other languages, one right after the other, then back to English. Confused yet? See here:

Original English Text:
I wish I had a boy to kiss and call my own.

Translated to French:
Je souhaite que j'aie eu un garçon pour embrasser et appeler mes propres.

Translated back to English:
I wish that I have a boy to embrace and call my clean.

Translated to German:
Ich wünsche, daß ich einen Jungen habe, zum mein sauberes zu umfassen und zu benennen.

Translated back to English:
I require that I have a boy to cover and designate to my clean.

Other fun ones:

This:

Into each generation a Slayer is born, one girl in all the world, a Chosen One, one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of their evil

becomes:

In each production in all they take to an assassin, a girl, selected,
taken with the resistance and the authority, the vampires with the
resistance and the authorities the proven one, in the vampires the
proven one, the end of the order to arrest to the diffusion
(atomizaton) of his malvagità.


This:

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose

becomes:

The freedom leaves sufficient a other word for anything with
destroying ignition

What happens when you leave me in a car alone for 9 hours

These are the thoughts, opinions (apparently of which I have too many), memories, commentary, etc. I had on my drive from Lima, NY to my beloved Portland, ME.

*McDonald's milkshakes will never taste the way they did when you were a kid.

*A Barenaked Ladies mixed tape is enough to entertain me for quite sometime in the car. I sing so so so much to it. I am a total fool in the car alone. Yes, yes, I don’t need to be in a car alone to be a total fool. Pipe down out there.

*I have a theory about the Weasley family. JK Rowling, or Jo as I like to call her, has said that Harry is not the heir to Gryffindor. I think the Weasleys are. Ok, let’s break it down. Red hair—red color of the house. Pure Blood – could bring the line through. There is this whole King Arthur thing going on with the names of the kids and the dad – might indicate there is some type of royalty going on.

*I found some old mixed tapes in my bedroom. One was just marked “Fun” and it did not lie, good road tunes that made me speed. Especially Beck and the only Joan Osbourne song I like: Right Hand Man. Another tape had the first side of me reciting “The Road Less Traveled” over and over and over again. I think I had to recite it in 10th grade, so I practiced on the tape. What was a little weird about it is that old tapes sometimes give way to what was recorded before it. So there was this ocean relaxation tape under it that would fade in and out. It was almost to artsy for its own good. The other half of the tape and another tape were all songs I taped off the radio. I remember sitting for hours in my bedroom reading or writing and sitting with one hand on the record button just incase a good song came on. Apparently my idea of good has changed drastically over the years. Some of the mix included: Justified and Ancient -- KLF, a Vanessa Williams song, Can’t Cry Hard Enough (three times on one side), Tears in Heaven (five times), etc.

*It was Eric Clapton’s day on the radio, every city was playing him on at least two or three stations in a 10 minute span of each other. Mostly Tears in Heaven, but if I was lucky – it was Wonderful Tonight. Yeah, cheese, but I love that song.

*I may be totally biased, but I have a theory that people who attented Fredonia and loved it have a unique quality: a great sense of adventure and thirst for life. Everyone from hippie to preppie, seems to possess this. I have socialized with a great cross section of people there, and I think that the people who were able to love the place and love the people there all were ready for anything. Totally biased, but hell, there is a reason I call it the Motherland.

*Emoticons annoy me, but I still can’t help using the occasional smiley. It’s a sickness, I know.

*I eat a lot of carrots on road trips. I know they don’t stain your teeth, but I feel like I might smile orange anyway.

*One of the things about kissing that just absolutely melts me: when you or the kissee smile in the middle of it. Because you’re just so happy to be kissing that person or just to be in that moment. You can’t help it, the smile pulls your lips away from the task at hand but bulldogs could not pull you away from the contact of that person’s mouth from yours. It pauses the whole kiss but just makes it that much more honeyed.

*Grandmas can say whatever they want. Especially ones that raised ten kids. And she is totally adorable doing it too. She is mighty feisty in that baking-sweet-no crap kinda way.


I am sure I had many many more thoughts on the road, but this is a sampling. Some of them are not FCC approved. And you know how I hate paperwork.

Poem by Molly Peacock

Afraid

Hell, I'm afraid I'll be afraid of your voice,
that's why I don't call (and because I'd like
to be grown-up about my phone bill, choice
being a signal of adulthood.)! Like
something papery, but stiff, I think
your voice will sound, like the end of a tablet
of paper, no more whiteness or lines set
in sheer availibility. My heart will sink
when I see the gray cardboard backing staring
at me, unblinking, the way I think your voice
will stare, if voices stared, gray and uncaring.
I wish you were here. I'd ask your advice
about whether to call. You'd put your arm
around me and we'd talk, our voices warm,
about whether it would do us any harm.

--Molly Peacock

Awkward!

It has been decided that there is a new device to get yourself out of an uncomfortable situation.

Simply say in a sing-songy voice: "Awkward!" and you are able to break tension and get out of the situation.

When might this be appropriate:
*You trip on the sidewalk and everyone around you is silent
*You go out to dinner with another couple and they proceed to fight in front of you
*Your co-worker wants to show you pictures of their cat, again.
*You just spilled red wine on your boss' white shirt

And so on.

Rules of the Awkward:
1. Use it sparingly. Life is uncomfortable people, but if you yell awkward all the time, you are bound to be on the receiving end more often than not.
2. If you are on the receiving end of an awkward, don't take it personally. Just accept it and move on. Change the topic of conversation, let the proclaimer leave, etc.
3. You must must must say it in the sing-songy tone. Otherwise it is invalid.


Spread the word. You will thank me later.