this and that

I don't really have internet anymore. I could surf at work but I don't really have time and would get in trouble anyway. I can piggyback off my neighbors illegally, but I still can't connect on my Dell, just Honey's. So I haven't been able to visit my "online communities" as often I did as a grade student who worked strange hours and read too much and was too often all up in her head. It's been rather freeing. Yet there has been some writing bubbling up for a while.

Having a house of all wood floors, I have to sweep a lot. I got one of those Swiffer WetJets and that works fairly well, except the pads come in 12 packs and cost $5. I need four to do the whole house. So I was thinking as I did it the old fashioned way (mop + floor spray), Swiffers are for lazy people anyway. Then I started thinking about how and why and when we realized we needed such a product, as handy as it is. In the olden days there weren't even floors, be they wood or carpet or what have you. I suppose at some point the introduction of the broom was somewhat radical, and many a back was saved--I know from reading Victorian literature that prior to this point it was hands, knees, and grumbling. Like in Cinderella. So after that,the dustpan was a godsend when you got tired of sweeping the home hearth's dirty all the way to your crewdly-hewn door. THEN after the grime of the Industrial Revolution had settled, we went through a few wars and cars got really big and awful track housing suburbian hell popped up like idential kernals of gabled, picket-fenced corn. Rugs crawled out to the corners and walls and became carpet. Now our workspaces as "traditional females" (where the production of food happened and the cleaning of shared spaces occurred) became more defined and borered. Enter the Swiffer, ideal for cleaning the faux-wood finish of your Americana decor kitchen. You don't have to bend over or strain of anything.

In any case, Titanic is on. Not to be confused with the "original." That's right, before Kate Winslet sweat all over a prepubescent Leo DiCaprio (who wins my respect and possibly my undies with his acting in The Departed years later--What's Eating Gilbert Grape was also great but affected me in a very different way), there was another Titanic. The ending? Same. I'm watching it now, and decided to do a little research. There were actually over a dozen versions made since 1912.

A conversation with Adam while he was up in Chicago visiting David:
"HELLO?!" he screams over a loud racket of drunk people.

"WHAT'RE YOUUUUU DOING??" I yell back, as it seemed like the thing to do.

"DAVID JUST LEFT ME ON A BUS!!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON A BUS??"

"NO, I'M IN A BAR, DAVID LEFT ON A BUS!! HE LEFT ME ON A BUS!!"

"WHY DID HE LEAVE ON A BUS??"

"WE WERE JUST WALKIN...AND...UH..HE SAID LETS GET ON THAT BUS AND STARTED RUNNING, AND I SAID, HE'S NOT GOING TO GET ON THAT BUS, AND...ow!...ALL OF A SUDDEN HE'S BANGING ON THE WINDOWS OF THE BUS AT ME AS IT GOES BY, AND I COULDN'T...I COULDN'T GET ON THAT BUS SO I'M IN A BAR!!"

I tried not to laugh. It was 5:30 in Chicago.

"WHAT BAR?"

"I DON'T KNOW!!"

"CALL HIM!!

"HE WON'T ANSWER THE PHONE!!"

"DUDE!!"

"WHAT??"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU AND MY THROAT IS GETTING SORE FROM YELLING, GOOD LUCK!"

In junior league with the devil

Call me stupid--I didn't know what Junior League was til fairly recently. Same goes for Ladies' Auxiliary. Such concepts are lost on a neo-girly tomboy from a small town in the midwest where the richest folks have just multiple cars and newer houses. I still shave my legs and everything, I even enjoy an occasional pedicure or pretty skirt, but this is just out of my realm. In case you're as ignorant as me, such organizations function as a sort of social group hiding behind ridiculous boots and empty wine bottles and talking about how much they do for the community for the real-life well-off white wives from the next town over from Stepford. Maybe that's unfair--just my take.

A few nights ago, I had 2 hours to kill between work and the staff meeting and was planning on spending birthday money on a coat at Kohls (since I lost all of mine in Austin--that's another blog). My boss's wife begged me to go to the Holiday Happening, sponsored by the Junior League of Lubbock. Oh yeah, I said--I remember when that girl came in at work and gave me the tickets to give to you and gave me the poster to put up advertising for said Happening. I deliberately threw that poster behind a desk in the corner. I didn't want to go, but it was my boss's wife, so I did. She lured me with the promise of good food and promised to not be "one of them." The HH has the same basic concept as First Thursday in Austin. It manages to be completely different. For one thing, I have never in my life seen so many things made of pink fuzzy material. Secondly, I do not understand the purpose of live models--in this case, perfectly still women standing on top of big cubes wearing ridiculous and ugly clothing. We know they're not mannequins. The whole concept makes me uncomfortable, and I had to fight off the urge to mess with them. Sidle up and talk about something itchy. Rip an inappropriate noise in close proximity. Something to break up the monotony.

The food was good, I'll give them that. There was a Greek stand, an Italian, Mexican, German, Chinese, and good ole snotty rich people American food. The only people of color I saw at the shindig were those working these stands. Everyone else (mostly women plus a few married shmucks whose ball-lessness led to their being dragged to the function) was deliberate to the point of pain. Deliberate hair, deliberate makeup, jewelry, outfits, boots, manicures, everything. I felt uncomfortable. I felt like I had not spent enouh time attempting perfection. It was a like a huge and indiscriminate sorority for those who were too old for such nonsense. I'm not saying these women aren't nice--I'm saying it's hard to tell under the fakery.

A few days later, a phone confirmed the irony of me being at such an event. Tiffany or some such name said some numbers had been transposed on the silent auction (which was kinda cool--mischief at the Holiday Happening?), and had I bid on a tea kettle? A quilting session? A gift card for Chili's? Clearly, madam, you don't know me.

I did end up winning a 3 month membership to Premier Fitness, but didn't claim my prize, as I didn't have enough money after going out for drinks last night.

Why I set off store alarms.

Oh friends. Where have I been?

Did you know Old Navy jeans set off CVS and Walgreens alarms? I've been setting them off for the last two months, which leads to the obligatory shrug and smile, after which I sometimes throw in a "I'm stealing stuff from outside." It's gone from puzzling to annoying. Tonight Honey and I went to get some chocolate ice cream (it makes us feel better about being broke), and again--beep beep beep. The frumpish cashier said she could think of several reaons why I set them off. As we continue towards the frozen foods, I thought, hey. Wait a minute. What the hell is that supposed to mean? And yes, I had had more than one glass of wine. Mark also thought it was an odd thing to say, and he often accuses me of giving the stink eye unprovoked (it's always provoked). Anyway, when we checked out, Mabel tells us that Old Navy jeans, no kidding, tend to set them off. So do certain kinds of keys. As I was wearing some ON at that very moment, I had to acquiesce. Now I know. Finally. As we were serenaded out by beep beeps, I laughed. It made my night. Fuckin jeans, man.

The job, it's good. The man, he's good. The house, it's looking a lot better. As the old joke whose punchline I can't remember says, "We might be livin on love, but we're killin the chickens."

Happy.

I could do a whole political post, but the wine and the long day are getting to me. 19 days?

Trying to get pics uploaded, we've been at 10% done the entire time it's taken me to type this. It's fall here, rainy and cloudy and sweatshirty.

BRB.

I'm not dead yet!

Right now my life consists of working at work and working on the house, which has turned into a full-scale renovation due to the negligence and downright evil of Amber Ramirez and her boyfriend--if I ever meet you, you're in big trouble. You're lucky I didn't open your mail. How are you going to run up a $3300 electricity bill and skip town? Plus you didn't pay rent the last two months. How you managed to turn this cute little house into a cockroach-infested smelly disgusting pit in a year is beyond me. The neighbors mentioned your abundance of pitbulls and come-and-go traffic at all hours of the night--granted, Lubbock folk are a bit more racy (i.e. racist) than Austinites, but they seem to suggest drug-dealing, albeit not very good dealing considering the stack of debts you left behind. One night while honey and I were painting a red Mustang stalked the driveway for the better part of a half hour. Friend of yours? And you had kids here? Shame.

Anyway.

It's coming along, despite a landlord with no sense of urgency and a bad habit of taking on way too much, mixed with a healthy dose of finding contractors on craiglist who don't like to show up when they're supposed to.

Quick election/political thoughts--I watched 5 minutes of the RNC, all I could stand. Just enough to watch Meg Whitman, former Ebay CEO open for the Bushwannabe McCain. What better way to show how Republicans are primarily rich white folk than have an Ebay CEO speak for you. Her point seemed to be that by voting Rep, you'll get a tax cut (if you're already rich), gas prices will go down (but the initial problem of renewable energy won't be addressed) and doing your taxes will be easier (shit, I did mine online with minimum trouble and I'm a retard when it comes to that kind of thing). Not convinced. At all.


more later, kids.

Shh, Ghost Whisperer is on.

Mary Murphy needs to be put down. The woman screeches louder than my inner child during church. Not that I've been to church in a while. But I have spent hours theorizing and puzzling sitting on the picnic table in the backyard. And that's where it counts.
I apologize for the listyness of my posts as of late. I've sifted through dense, heavy matter for months and years, and can no longer make sweeping points and thematic texts. I feel like skimming the surface, occasionally touching down but mostly flying.
My cat just took a swing at my roommate's cat---HHHHSSSS. Cats are slightly unearthly. I await excitedly for the OE to arrive with my white people Chinese food, and lament over my cable-less-ness. Friends is unfunny, always. The damn remake 90210 commercials are starting to brainwash me to the point where I actually kinda want to see the damn show.

This is my new house:
I heart it. It needs a little work, but I don't mind.
So cute.

I met my friends out on Wednesday at Maudie's, a Tex-Mex place on S. Lamar. After getting lost around Annie Street and then choosing to stay lost to aw over the sweet houses, I came late and just before the tail pieces of Dolly blew in some hot rain. The noise it made on the tin roof sounded like what I imagine leaving sounds like. In a good way. A ready way. The power went out and we switched from frozens to beer, sweating and laughing til it returned an hour later.

That rain brought out the frogs. Toads, rather. They looked too much like the frogs I picked out of a jar of formaldehyde yesterday for my biology class to dissect, all looking upward at me through covered eyes, arms and legs akimbo. About half of them (the kids) bailed after a scissors was required to cut through the sternum, but the remaining ones enfused their pull towards a career in doctoring by examining structures and seeing how things work.

Anyway.

If you can watch all of this video featuring a woman wearing what appears to be a Hefty bag and singing her own "hit" "song," "Hairdresser," I'll give you $10.

What the hell, Charmin?

What the hell, Charmin? Am I supposed to think a post-shit bear would be wiping his entire bear ass and getting bits of TP stuck to it? And am I supposed to worry about this happening to me and hence buy Charmin to avoid this embarrassing situation? Gah. Just horrible and ineffective. These commercials make me physically uncomfortable.

watch dis

Awesome Stop Motion Wall Animation - Watch more free videos

have done essentially nothing all day, except realize how much clothes I have that I don't wear. C's cleared some of her stuff out prior to her Israel move, so I feel inspired to get going on my own packing. two weeks to go.