oh vino.

I am drinking a great merlot right now. It is called 'genesis'. by hogue cellars. i enjoy hogue. they make a good red.
My director asked us to write bios for the program, and to include a personal quote that we ourselves have said. I called at least three friends asking what quote they thought of when they thought of me. no one came up with anything. I can't even come up with anything. I know things I'd like to say I've said, things I wish I'd have come up with first...Nothing that is witty (or appropriate) enough to put in a theatre program. What sums me up, what have I said that means something to me? This assignment is not that big of a deal; it wasn't meant to be. I always overanalyze. Speaking of which.
Did you smoke some reefer today?

Give Thanks

themed band-aids

grassy hills

my moms perfume clinique happy

red tulips

that new-book-smell

teachers that smile when you answer correctly

crunchy firm grapes

curtains from the 70's and 80's

puppies with extra skin and soft fur

playgrounds with tires rooted in the ground

construction workers that smile and wave

crayons

retro coasters

people that hold doors for you

that way he looks at me and smiles with his teeth

my niece's hands

my little unborn baby girl niece

yellow umbrellas

birds with lilting calls

thick black markers that ooze ink

my grandma's wedding pictures

the way you write my name

tableclothes

classified ads that read, "i noticed you, did you notice me?"

the place between your shoulder and neck

smooth round rocks on the beach

falling asleep outside

Do You Have The Time?

Recently my Grandma passed away, so we've been circling her house like vultures and picking through the remains. I probably could've worded that better. I've found some interesting things. Receipts from the drugstore in the 60's, pins shaped like huge neon flowers, a golden sewing case for your purse (Just in case! Everyone was like a girlscout in the 50's; prepared for any minor disaster.) But best of all was my grandpa's old pocket watch. I pulled it out of the box and following after it, attached by a golden chain, was a pocket knife! What the hell? Why do you need a weapon on your timepiece? It was really sharp too! Not a little, innocent, I-also-may-be-a-miniature-pair-of-scissors-knife, no; this was a wicked golden blade of fury.

"Do you have the time?"

"Oh sure let me just reach in my pocket here IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO GET STABBED MOFO!"

Oh, The Things We Shall See!

Things To See Today:

- A woman sitting at Taco Del Mar with the same purse as I, and upon seeing this, quickly stowing it under the table in humiliation.
- Two mice screaming at each other in angry mouse voices and wrestling in their food bowl at the pet store.
- A fish kissing its own reflection.
- A car racing by in the parking lot, blaring Bulgarian trance music.
- The cherry blossoms in front of my house blooming in the sun.
- My brother walking across my lawn in a leg cast, playing the accordian while dressed in flannel and one birkenstock.

CAN I GET A QUOTE

On Tuesday, when I was sick and sweating my fever out in the limited comfort of my bed, I was having the most whacked out fever dreams. The kind you don't wake up from even when you're conscious. The night before, I was reading a political chic lit my sister lent me about a woman having an affair with a politician in D.C, (She loves to drop really vapid, meaningless novella's about bored housewives and 30 something's on me, so i have to take them to the Goodwill instead of her.) and somehow it invaded my thoughts and dreams. Reporters were crowding me from all sides, pushing and screaming, "CAN I GET A QUOTE, HOW WILL THIS AFFECT YOUR CAMPAIGN, WHICH ISSUE IS THE MOST IMPORTANT TO YOUR PARTY?!" I floundered around wildly in my covers, trying to find an answer that wouldn't come out in the headlines the next day. When I finally did awaken, my fever was still so high that the reporters voices continued to ring in my ears. "Please...Stop..." I pleaded, covering my head with my pillow. I'm not really sure what the issues were that my party stood for, so i still don't have a quote.

Cause' I'm Freeeee

“Needing someone is like needing a parachute. If he isn’t there the first time you need him, chances are you won’t be needing him again.”
-TheJSpot.org

Soup

I am having, hands down, the worst week of my life. Although it doesn't really feel like the worst week. In fact, I can recall being in a much fouler mood on weeks when nothing had happened. As opposed to this week, in which my grandma has died, I've had the worst flu of all time, and oral surgery (I HATE people in my mouth. Make a joke; I dare you.).
Tangent about the oral surgery: The reason I'm going in for this; the many years ago when they put on my braces, my orthodontist decided to make a space in my teeth, to push together all the little spaces. So all these little spaces accumulate into one tooth-sized space. So i need a fake tooth. I am planning on one that is gold with a shiny diamond in it.
My doctor. Possibly the most irritating person alive. He is an oral surgeon, so of course he has these bright shiny chompers he likes to flash at you when you're lying there, prone and helpless under the bright lights. Last time I was there for a checkup, he had a tongue depressor down my throat and he goes, "So I was gonna take my kids to that pirate movie. But I didn't."
'Why (insane) doctor?' Why are you making small-talk when you have a tongue depressor down my throat?
'Cause it was rated Arrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!'
So I choke on the tongue depressor. This time around, as they are putting me under and getting the IV going; 'Hey, your heart's beating kind of fast! Are you nervous? You know what we have for nervous patients?! THIS TEDDY BEAR!'
I would like to state for the record that I am a legal adult.

But I'm actually feeling kind of peppy. Is this because I know that it can't get any worse? When you have a funeral scheduled for your weekend, you're not leaving the house because you're coughing your lungs up and chugging daytime sudafed to numb the pain, and you take nighttime sudafed to dull your mind, how can it get any worse?

My favorite food is Soup. Soup is amazing. It's an appetizer, it's an entree, it's a whole meal! The jack-of-all-trades of food. If only we could all just be a little more like Soup.

No wonder my favorite book was Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs when I was younger.
I seem to have a wierd personal relationship with the food I consume.

Cheddar Tomato Soup Loves You Long Time
12 whole fresh tomatoes
2 small onions-- chopped
1/2 cup diced celery
1 cup chicken stock
1 cup cream
1 teaspoon ground
basil
salt
black pepper
8 ounces cheddar cheese -- shredded

Combine tomatoes, onions, and celery in food processor and blend until coarsely chopped. Pour into large sauce pan, add chicken stock, and bring to a boil over medium heat. Simmer, uncovered, for 20 minutes. Add cream. Season with basil, salt, and pepper. Cook over very low heat for five minutes. Add cheese and cook, stirring constantly, until cheese melts. Serve at once.

Insta-Rap!

After listening to my local rap radio station for about an hour today, I've created a formula that I call: Insta-Rap!tm
The first step is to create a sentence that boasts of :
a) your girlfriends, or lovers - "Baby Mamas, bitches, hos"
b) the money you have - "G's, Ice"
c) where you were born - "The street, Brooklyn"
d) what you enjoy doing in your spare time - "pimpin', smokin' dope, poppin' caps"
e) something you represent - "Compton, your race, your gang"
Or All/Some of the above.

Let's go with a combination of A and D!
"I like riding in my car with my girlfriend and smoking marijuana cigarettes, laced with cocaine."
Lovely.

Now if you are not familiar with ghetto slang, use the help of www.urbandictionary.com. I found it quite useful in the next step of our process.

Using the sentence we created, substitute words that you would usually understand, with ones that make no sense. Also, substitute:
Ya for You
An' for And
in' for ing (As in riding = ridin')
Wit' for With
and so on.

So let's start with the beginning of the sentence, 'i like riding in my car." to Insta-rap this, we almost can do it without the help of an urban dictionary.
'i like ridin' in my -' now here, it is popular to insert the name of a car that is coveted, or "tricked out". Let's say cadillac, just for kicks.
'i like ridin' in my tricked out cadillac-" Insta-rapped!

There is a large selection of words for girlfriend, or lover. One of the most popular is ho, or bitch, but i find it derogatory, so I prefer 'my boo'
"boo is a term that is derived from the French word "beau" meaning beautiful. In 18th century England it meant an admirer, usually male. It made it's way into Afro-Caribean language perhaps through the French colonisation of some Caribean islands."
Thank You urbandictionary.

As for smoking marijuana cigarettes laced with cocaine, this seems to be a popular activity and has more then a few names for it. A 'primo' or 'dirty', were just few of the many.

"i like ridin' in my tricked out cadillac wit' my boo, smokin' me a dirty." INSTA-RAPPED!

So, my friends, now that you know how to Insta-Rap, take your knowledge to 'the street' and make some 'mad scrilla' makin' records. Then let's get 'crunked'. Ya down?

I'll just leave you with this little message that inspired Insta-Rap and gave me an insta-headache.

"This is why I’m hot
I dont gotta rap
I can sell a mill
sell you nothing on the track
I represent New York
I got it on my back

I’m hot coz I’m fly
You ain’t coz you not
This is why
This is why
This is why I'm hot."

Thanks Mims.

Oh, The Tragedy of It All.

While watching Hitchcock's 'Rebecca' (Masterpiece Theatre, bitches.), I take notice that whenever a heroine is faced with a problem, be it impending doom or abusive husbands, instead of solving the problem somehow, or running away, they fling themselves onto their beds in a dead, fishlike fashion. -fwoomp- I have decided as of today, I will no longer rationally think over my problems. No, instead i am adopting this new strategy and will go limp and fishy in my tragedy.

Angelina's Billy Bob Tattoo

Celebrating your sixth month aniversary just seems like asking for it.

Contracts

Dear Future Husband, Boyfriend, Spouse of Mine,

I'm not a perfectionist, and certainly not a slob. I am perfectly poised in pink, and occasionally slutty enough to go out on the town in black. I enjoy red nailpolish, but i have a terrible habit of flicking it off onto whatever surface is close. I love stray cats, and will frequently run off into parking lots, the neighbor's yard, or the street to pet one. (A stray cat begs to be petted. Or to be vaccinated. Either way.) When I sleep, i tuck one foot under the other, bring my knees up to my chest and bundle the blankets around my shoulders. It makes for a slightly uncomfortable sleeping partner. I like bright sunshine in the morning, so if you've been drinking the night before, wear those little spa-eye-pads to bed.

I crunch ice between my molars while i read at the table, and i mix the last of the ice-cream with milk in a bowl. I talk during movies, and i narrate the characters if i think they're doing something wrong. I am not that person in the back of the theater that screams, 'DAMN, don't go in there! What' you thinking?! DAMN!' (You know.) But I will say things in the same vein of, 'I wonder what is behind door number two? Will it be the crazy masked murderer, or the escaped mental patient with a chain saw? Tune in after the commercial break to see the final finale of 'Who Wants To Be Stabbed A Million Times?'

I tuck my hair behind my ears when i read, and if you attempt to part my hair the opposite way (Even playfully) i will smack you. I like clothes and pretty things, but try to deny the fact the media has any affect on me at all. (The new GAP commercial...I want the boyfriend pants.) When you come to terms with my hypocrisy, you'll sleep easier. When i ride in cars, I like to talk, and when i am sick or upset, you should run your fingers through my hair and kiss the crown of my head. Your t-shirts belong to me, they are mine.

If you love these things about me, or even put up with them, I will love you back. I am amazing at wild abandoned desperate love, and i will be melted butter in your frying pan if you cook it just right. I will wake you in the morning with dandelion kisses on your temples, and i will wash your hair in the shower. I will write you notes and leave them around the house, I will buy your favorite foods at the grocery store you never want to spend money on. I will wince at the thought of anyone else's arms, and i will push down the urge to yell at you when you forget to hang up towels on the towel rack. I will go to coffee with my girlfriends, complain about you, and come home having forgotten the whole thing. I will meet your friends wearing high heels, and a beautiful outfit that says, 'Yes, I am quite the catch, and although I ooze sex appeal with a touch of class, he had to work to get me between the sheets. ' I will wink at you over breakfast and share my toast with you, when I see you've finished yours.

Love,

Tomine

Part of Speech: Verb

It's ironic in a way, the way that Americans react to death. And i suppose it's other countries too, but I don't live there, so I wouldn't really know. It's ironic because we spend our whole lives making movies about death, writing novels about death, T.V shows, anti-aging cream, laws against killing people, fancy funeral homes, fancy funerals... And yet when it comes, it comes like a sock full of quarters to the jaw. We don't expect it, yet we've been preparing for it our whole lives, we're surrounded by it. 'But it can't happen to us, it happens to everyone else, but not us,' we cry. It's surreal and unfair somehow, that someone so close to us should kick the bucket.

So my grandma's dying. They give her a week. It seems less important, when Grandparents die. Because everyone's gone through that you know? It seems at some point in elementary school, there will at least have been seven kids you know whose grandparents have decided to push up daisies. Everyone has lost a grandparent. It's so different when it's yours though. Obviously.

I propose that everyone should have an expiration date. If you have an expiration date that says you'll die at twenty, fuck school. Go build a tree house. Hop on a boat to Hong Kong. Swim with sharks. Preferably without dying before your expiration date. That would be just stupid.

If you did have one though, you could avoid leaving your children without parents at age twelve. You could spare the love of your life the heartbreak and not get married. I know, that whole bullshit about a life not lived...I love my family. If I knew I was going to cause them pain, I would stay the hell away from them. Or I'd like to think.

Part of Speech: verb 1
Definition: pass away
Synonyms:
be taken, bump off, buy it, cash in, chalk out, check out, conk, cool, croak, dance, decease, demise, depart, drop, drop dead, drop off, drown, eat it, expire, finish, go west, hang, kick off, one-way ticket, perish, pop off, relinquish life, snuff, sprout wings, succumb, suffocate

Tock Tock Tock

One of those books that never leaves you is the Phantom Tollbooth. I can almost taste those juicy 'A's.

http://archive.salon.com/books/int/2001/03/12/juster/

The Well Read Read Well

Tonight I had the pleasure of viewing The Painted Veil at my local indie movie theater; The Grand. It's an awesome little movie theater, with limited seating and flickering screens. You don't get that enjoyment anymore, these huge screens suck you in and you forget you're even at the movies. Which, i suppose, is probably the point for some people.

As for me, I like to be reminded I am at the movies. I like cushy red seats, and curling movie posters stapled to walls. I like when the pictures flicker up and down, and I like to watch people during sad parts. Everyone cries differently. A woman next to me the other night got very red and wrinkled, pursing her lips until it looked like she was physically in pain. Men in the theater will cough loudly and look downward. I look upward and let tears roll down my cheeks. I think it is a tribute to the movie when you let it make you cry.

(Spoiler Alert.)
The Painted Veil was gorgeous. The scenery was literally breathtaking. Have you ever had those moments, where you actually gasp, or your eyes widen involuntarily? This was one of those movies for me. Of course, the biggest gasps came from the sweeping camera views of the hospital, where the patients were stricken with cholora. Nothing like a movie about infectious diseases to make you hate touching things. My hands are dry from washing them so many times in the bathroom afterwords. Edward Norton constantly moves up on my list of amazing actors. He is so composed and almost weak looking, it is a shock to watch him change into something different. The best thing about this movie was the heroine. I detest those movies with the stereotypical plot line of he-cheated-on-her-and-now-she's-getting-over-it-yay, where the guy is always, well...a dick. It was almost refreshing to see this woman, (whom you almost love to hate in the beginning) get what she really deserved, and learn from it. It was a beautiful movie, one that finally made me think. We don't get a lot of those around here these days. The Oscars were pretty cry this year. Except for Pan's Labyrinth. Aka, the love of my most loved films.