Archive for November, 2005

Bounce

November 30, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot: they amount to fourteen.” ~Abd-El-Raham

Perhaps because I’m wearing Uggs, feet up flipping between Ellen and The Company. Or perhaps I encountered an estrogen surrounded Supreme Court on the way to the office. Ladies laden in pink t-shirts saying “Keep Abortion Legal”-it always brings a smile to my face. Or maybe because I’ve been made aware that there is a bottle of bourbon spiked egg nog with my name on it. Or, the kick ass peanut butter chocolate chip cookies I made. Oh my, I’m a domestic diva. Whatever it is, there is a little bounce in my step this morning.
I’m sitting here with my coffee, catching up on reading the NYT and WaPo (I’ve never denied being a flaming liberal). Then on to making the Christmas list that Peg and el padre have requested (and I have no shame-it will be posted). Loving the fact that when there aren’t 150 people swarming about, I can actually take time to think and coherently do work. Not to mention, Uggs-no matter how fugly- make comfy feet and comfy feet are conducive to a comfy work environment.

Edit to add: I’m now watching Law & Order (the best show ever in life) and I’m having a really difficult time, not imagining Jesse Martin telling Sam Waterston that he’ll cover him in 1,000 sweet kisses or that he’d die without him, or that he’d like to go to Santa Fe.

It feels good…

November 29, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

It’s great when someone points out a mistake, which really is fine, that’s not the concern. The concern comes in when one points out a mistake to me, and then cc’s 145 other people on the email. Because my favorite is having 14 people point out one (tiny) mistake.

Thank God I’ve never claimed to be perfect. Set the bar low, I say.

Lost and Found

November 29, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“There are truths on this side of the Pyranees, which are falsehoods on the other. ” ~Blaise Pascal

I’ve lost my social security card and my birth certificate. I’ve been in denial about losing both at the same time, but they’re really missing. Though I remember getting them both back a year ago from the Spanish embassy when I got my Visa. And don’t be a Peg and give me shit about not having known where the keys to my identity have been for almost a year. I mean, I still have my passport and my (old) license. Imagine if I had lost either of those; I’d be stuck sober for weeks. That’s a bigger fear than someone possibly having my social security card. At least I can drink myself into a stupor to take my mind off of it. I’ve been going on a rampage (for the past four days) of looking for them. And on the way, I found my map of Amsterdam, that I used to get from Anne Frank’s House back to my hotel, my plane tickets to Morocco, Amsterdam and Barcelona, and my guides to Lisbon and Fatima. While losing my social security card and birth certificate are shitty, they’re replaceable; losing a map to the cheapest and/or best coffee shop* in Amsterdam is not. And that my friends, is called putting things in perspective.

*Yup. Coffee Shop. Oh like you wouldn’t go if you had the chance…Whatever.

Diaries of a Misanthrope

November 28, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Language… has created the word “loneliness” to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word “solitude” to express the glory of being alone. ” ~Paul Johannes Tillich, The Eternal Now

It’s funny now, not just because it’s true, but because I’ve learned to appreciate it. The truth is that through the end of elementary school through the 8th grade, I was not the most popular person in the world. Frankly, friends were minimal. I was that annoying girl who talked way too fucking much and religiously shopped at Old Navy unaware that there was such thing as Gap. It was sad really. I wore vests and played the clarinet. I was shunned by the “popular” girls, who I’ve come to determine were nothing but a bunch of bitchy whores (nearing pretentious cunt-dom, but I won’t go that far).I wish I were kidding, but no, they were whores. As a matter of fact one is now the proud owner of a four year old. But I digress. I had no friends, everyone made fun of me and of course it was a complete shit time, but I learned to amuse myself and spend time alone. A quality that came in handy I would say. I learned to have no interest in hanging out with people who so obviously disliked me and made it a point to not go out of my way to be nice to them. By high school, I had friends and had gained some modicum of popularity, but by then I was perfectly content with not forcing myself to be friends with people and just letting it go.

Fast forward to now, a time of alcohol and holy motherfucker, real life friends. What is a xenophobic misanthrope to do? I’m perfectly content being alone (thus the reason for why my pastimes include golf, kayaking, blogging and grocery shopping-no one else is involved). When I had my studio apartment, you couldn’t have paid me enough to come out and actually fraternize with other human beings. Those motherfuckers can be hurtful and mean and well I just don’t like to get dressed. There were weekends, where I’d stay in the entire time that is until LB forced me to come out, but that had to be something I was notified of well in advance and even then the prospect of me coming out was slim to none. Now that I have actual friends, when they call I am expected to call back. When I am invited out, I am expected to attend or at least call/IM to say whether or not I will be attending. While home this past weekend, I had the most difficult time leaving the house for the most part. People wanted me to come see apartments and go downtown to Albany and I was more than content to stay in and get my fill of Spike Lee Joints. All of this while G went out every night and came home every morning with a hangover. Yes, there might be something wrong with me, I don’t like people, especially people who spent the better part of my adolescence calling me names; but I suppose now it might be a little easier with a vodka tonic in hand.

How to have sex on an ibook

November 26, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

…tell me, in less than 4 1/2 minutes, that I do indeed have a warranty on my ipod and then order me a new one and tell me that it will be in on monday. MONDAY. I might kiss you or possibly have sex with you somewhere near the G5s. What can I say? I’m easy.

Now if only I could get someone to purchase me a new laptop and digital camera. I most certainly wouldn’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind…all over Best Buy that is.