Saturday, January 31, 2009

would somebody plz check the barometer, i think it has dropped


more recently, seattle has been blessed with beautiful, crisp, clear days. and by crisp i mean cold. by clear i mean wicked cold. i know it's early feb in the pacific northwest. . .but still. someone hand me my hat, my so cal roots are showing. . .

less recently, i was in houston, where the days were beautiful, crisp, clear. and by crisp i mean humid. and by clear i mean warm. like 70's warm. it was awesome.  tho actually not really cuz most of my time there was spent inside. working. where the interior weather ceaselessly pendulated from too warm to too cold. stopping at happy medium just long enough to get my hopes up only to dash them thru and thru. my coworker would, on a semi daily basis, proclaim the weather report from on high. the temperature fell into one of two categories and was accurately, truthfully reported as such: 'it's cold as balls in here,' or 'it's hot as balls in here.'

now, i am no expert in glandular temperature ranges, specifically those native to the testicular region, but my deductive reasoning skills lead me to believe that this is a little bit of an exaggeration. i am not one to call into doubt facts which i have no first hand knowledge of (i am woman, hear me.) that come from a certifiable source (ok, she is also woman, but her working knowledge of men, particularly those in kilts, far outweighs mine.)(ok, really, that's not that hard a feat.), but this one had me arching my eyebrow in a skeptical, 'oh really?' kinda way.

maybe when my hands thaw i can try to get my half melted computer up and running again and do a little wiki research on the interweb. until then, batman, i'll just hang out with the cats.

EVERYTHING I LEARNED ABOUT SEX I LEARNED FROM MY EX'S BLOG

ok, not really, i just thought the title was clever. 

all my ex's live for texts. messages. 

. . .almost clever. but not quite. . . 

Thursday, January 29, 2009

battle cat


i enjoy a good evening routine. drinking coffee substitute tea after dinner. reading by the fire before bedtime. administering ointment to numerous cutaneous wounds on my upper body. 

i live with 2 cats. according to the way things are gonna go from here on out, thought up by their owner/my flatmate, they, BABYSEAL and PETER PETER JENNINGS, are to go outside at night. usually, she that thought it up does it herself. the cats are moderately compliant. she that thought it up is out of town; the responsibility falls heavily upon me. somebody cue up the battle hymn please. 

BABYSEAL is about the size and shape of a watermelon. an 18lb watermelon. with a cat head stuck to the end. while her outward appearance may lead one to think that any inherent catlike qualities she was born with have long ago been squandered/forgotten/eaten, let me be the first to tell you that hiding under that dense layer of insulation, there lies a fierce beast. whose claws (ilvs: hey geode, why don't you cut BABYSEAL's nails? geode: why don't you cut BABYSEAL's nails?) protrude far beyond fleshy flesh and can pretty much cut thru all layers of human epidermis with little to no effort. when provoked, the results are stunning. in the worst way possible.

the photo does my feline inflicted injuries no justice. there is no visual substitute for the impressive torque of a cat body trying to escape, the sting of a cat's claws slicing human skin, the resulting mixed feeling of anger/guilt/utter defeat.

BABYSEAL: 1, ilvs: -5

she that thought it up does not return for another week.

like an ill fated victorian Misses living next door to the Count, i dread the coming of night.

Friday, January 16, 2009

eyeball candy!


looking at other blogs, i realized i am sorely lacking in the visual department. 

here is a photo of me and my roommate GEODE. yes, like the geological formation.

ok actually, i couldn't find that photo. so here's a different one. it's of me and my other roommate, BABY SEAL. handsomely sporting the neckerchief i tied around her neck. on it, there are drawing of cans (of tuna) and the words 'CAN IT, LADY!'.

more where that came from, for sure.

putting the commie in commiedian

hey, ilvs.

yes? good morning.

uh, yeah, good morning. hey, how often do you think about China's Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution circa 1965?

oh, i don't know, every Mao and Deng.

(get it, mao and deng? now and then? mao zedong and deng xiaoping? . . . )

Monday, January 12, 2009

but you look so peaceful when you sleep

i cut off a tiny part of my left pointer finger (on accident) whilst cutting celery for stew. not deep enough to induce bleeding, but enough so that it feels like there is maybe the thinnest layer of thin skin serving as barrier between the world and my raw nerves. . . .but that's not why i write.

one time i asked a friend to come to my art opening. photographs i had taken (in corvallis), to be shown at the coffee shop i frequented (interzone).  
'what are they of?' she inquired casually. 
'they're of you. sleeping,' i deadpanned. a moment of silence. 
'no, really, what are they of?' she persisted.  i think i had her convinced for a few seconds, then i caved.  they were of streets and alleyways and graffiti. but that'd be creepy if they actually were, yeah?  i always thought i'd be funny, invite your friends and roommates to your art opening and make a big deal about it, then when they get there all the photos are of them sleeping soundly or of them doing stuff (nothing, uh, 'personal,' tho...) in their rooms when they thought they were alone and the angle is all hidden camera/surveillance style cuz well, that's pretty much what it was. imagine the look on their faces!
that being said, i wouldn't actually do this for real. but really, the only thing stopping me from going thru with this idea is the HIGH CREEP FACTOR. it never occurred to me, all these years, until maybe just now, that i could just as easily GET PERMISSION and oh i don't know, stage the shots and get just as good of photos if not better due to the whole consensual aspect of it. 
but where's the fun in that.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

and now please rise for the national anthem

i love karaoke. love it.  to those who have never seen me karaoke, this may come as a surprise. but to those who have, it's pretty obvious. 

two life dreams have evolved due wholly in part to the cross cultural phenomenon (um, thank you philipines for the magic mic). i go into brief detail.

1. in my life, before i die, i want to write a one hit wonder song that makes it into the karaoke song books. hell, i don't even have to be in the band that makes it. or if i am, i don't even have to be the lead singer - tho that would be hella sweet. i just want to make one album with one band that has one one hit wonder. one smash one hit wonder - along the lines of 'don't stop believing.' (ok, not that journey is anything close to a one hit wonder, but that's the caliber of song i'm shooting for). which i think is maybe every other band's nightmare, to be a flash in the pan. but really i have other things to do than make a life long career out of music. i just wanna do it once. and do it well. join me if you dare.

2. one time at a storm game - wait, let me rephrase that- the one time i went to a storm game, (not that i wouldn't go again, or didn't have fun, or wasn't excited to score free tix, or have any beef against my sporty sisters, but it's just not something i have a burning desire to do on a regular basis or have the inclination to drop down money for. but if you have an extra ticket and need a date, i'm hella game. so to speak. and delightful company.) where was i. . . yes, the seattle storm. we (geode + i + geode's friends) and i got there in a timely fashion. we settled in our seats, we (ok, really i can only speak for myself) spent lots of time looking around at all the other 'storm fans' (but yeah really i was not the only one scoping out the crowd). then some too loudly amplified announcer began saying things, eventually persuading folks to get up and respect the gifted teenager who was about to sing a technically difficult but deceptively so cuz we all know it and think we can sing it just fine song. i got up to see better. the girl started singing. then it hit me. the only difference between this girl singing the national anthem at the start of a basketball game and me singing it up on some makeshift stage at a pub - age, refined vocal chords, crowd size and standing ovation aside - was the lack of words projected on the big screen. this kid was basically doing karaoke. karaoke +. extreme karaoke. i turned to geode, 'what if one day we came to a game and right before it started i excused myself then the next thing you know, they're calling my name and i'm out there in some snappy outfit belting it out for the masses? would you be impressed?'  'impressed, yes,' she replied, 'but not really surprised.'  ok, i don't remember what she said back to me, but the point is, someday, somewhere, somehow, you might find yourself at a sports event, you will find your seat, you will be touching up your friend's face paint when the announcer interrupts, asking you to get up out of your seats for the national anthem and please welcome to the stage. . .  ilvs.   
'uh, it's pronounced 'elvis'.'


odds are i will be at the waterwheel in ballard (wallingford?) this sunday night 9pm for some songage.  maybs i see you there.

PSA - and for the record, i don't need the alcohol to sing in front of peeps. i'm just not all that into drinking.  and i think it detracts from the true experience. and it's not the best for the vocal chords. 

Friday, January 9, 2009

calendars are cheap if you just wait it out for a bit.

same wit day planners.  

happy new year. tis the year of the blog. welcome. 

i was a little bummed when my first choice of blog addresses was already taken (lasersinthejungle). apparently i am not the only paul simon fan online. 
i was a slightly dejected when my second choice of (mostawesome) was also quite taken. 

so i went with what i went with only to feel a twinge of rue when i realized  i coulda had the title (babysealgetdown). but then really, i relaxed cuz that is only funny to me and my roommate right now and potentially others once they read what i will eventually write in the future. but not just yet. goodnight.