Archive for November, 2005

Homegirl

November 26, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“You can never go home again, but the truth is, you can never leave home, so it’s alright”-Maya Angelou

I find that there’s nothing more miserable than fighting off a cold. The sniffles aren’t a valid excuse for taking a day off of work, and anyway, I’d end up saying to myself “it’s only a cold” and exsercising my right to prance around Georgetown for a day. Nope, there will be none of that. Just a lot of me sniffling my way through the remainder of the weekend. Now combine that cold with snow, and you’ve got a lovely winter here in the capital of the great state of New York.
It’s snowing, I have a cold, and I found out the hard way that we don’t have a corkscrew in the house. I came thisclose to opening a bottle of wine with my teeth last night. Though despite this trifecta of catastrophic things-right up there with famine, war, and poverty-I feel good. Yup, it’s cold, but that’s upstate New York for you. A place where four wheel drive is a necessity (thus the fleet of jeeps in my driveway) and where wearing uggs is highly recommended, because holy hell it’s cold. A place where no matter what, my mommy still takes care of me, as she made sure all of my cashmere had been dry cleaned and found the receipt with the warranty for my ipod, so I suppose I can forgive the lack of cork screw. I still have my friends and Friendly’s and a brother who lets me hug him even though he’s 14 times my size and a mother who never lets me hug her but does keep a Precor elliptical machine in the basement and a four year old cousin who can (and will) harlem shake upon request. And that my friends is what going home is all about. Now I’m off to clean off the car. Welcome home.

Who needs alcohol when you’ve got this?

November 25, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

Peg: I think I’m going to go to Martha’s Vineyard tomorrow and then stay overnight

Me: oooh then we can have a party

G: yeah, we can have a party. You clean up the basement. Mom, you’d be really proud of the parties I throw.

Peg: Like that time I found all those beer cans in your room under your bed? And then up on the roof?

G: what cans?

Peg: that time you got mad at me for cleaning your room and I found all that beer…

G: That was last Christmas, and it wasn’t from a party. That was from me, Eli, Jack and Jay.

Peg: And y’all had condoms…

Holiday Help for Asshats:The Stuffing Edition

November 23, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

Dearest Asshat,

You know I love ya right (wayyy deep down inside)? And in the spirit of the holidays and giving, I figured now would be the perfect time to let you in on a little secret, sometimes, no all the time, you fucking suck. I suppose I’ll be nice and tell you about this before you delve further into asshole-dom (or dumbwhore-dom if you’re a female).

Let’s start off with most recently, today that is. The Acela being booked and all meant no quiet car, which, ok fine, I can deal, but since you had been seated in the quiet car prior to it being announced that it would not be a quiet car, means that you probably sat there on purpose. Which means, that most of the people seated in there, were there because they like QUIET. Say it with me now, QUIET. That means shut the fuck up you haggard bitch, because in reality, I do not want to hear about how hungover you are after being forced to drink by “Suave”. I don’t want to hear about it when you tell your mom, Rosemary, your friend Heather, your cousin’s best friend bob, or your Uncle Charlie over at the VA hospital. Really, I don’t care. The same goes for you, woman with the stringy hair who had to call 18 different places in order to find the right number for Marietta; your hairdresser to tell her that you are on the fucking train. I don’t care and I doubt that Marietta cares either.

Moving on now…

To yesterday when you and your cronies saw me walking towards you and instead of moving to one side of the street you all decided to block me as I was walking. I know that you’re in a rush to get to your totally awesome Legislative Assistant jobs on the Hill and write a million and ten constituency letters about why we can’t pull out of Iraq, but seriously, move the fuck out the way. Or next time I’m going to have to punch you then steal your blackberry and you’ll have to explain to the Congressman why your blackberry was found in the Longworth Building toilets.

And then there are the kind words that come from you while I’m running or randomly walking in my running clothes through union station. Here’s a hint, ways to not pick up women…yelling out “Shake it ma”. Also beeping your horn while I’m trying to avoid getting run over. Just don’t do it. Don’t call me “ma”, don’t yell “hey baby”, don’t beep. Don’t do anything, just let me run and/or walk without the added commentary of how great my ass looks.

Lastly, I wouldn’t want you to think that all asshats are strangers, there’s also my younger brother:

HB: I bet you can’t wait to see me
G: I bet I can

There’s true love to be shared around this holiday season. Can you feel it? Asshat, try to heed these words.
Now go forth and enjoy your Thanksgiving and be thankful that I haven’t punched you in the face yet.

Peace motherfuckers,
HB

Petulent Child

November 22, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you. ” ~Walt Disney

I have a problem. A minor problem until today and only today because this is something that has been bothering me for awhile. But now I must do something about this problem because I might flip the fuck out. That would be bad. I’ve also been told that dealing with this problem would make me more of an adult. I’d rather be a child. Naptimes and all. Sadly though, this problem falls under the purview of things that I could never tell you people about even though I really really want to. And in reality only three things fall under that category.

I am thankful for my $140 an hour therapist. And I am also thankful for Blue Cross/ Blue Shield for covering it. I’m thankful for the Acela and that it will be whisking me away from here. I am also thankful that my mother didn’t break my legs off when she found out I charged my Acela ticket to her credit card. Thankful that there will be stuffing and wine and a much needed break from this bullshit. And most importantly thankful that I do not refer to Albany as 518, the 518, five.one.eight, the Gspot or any other ridiculous name. Because seriously.

Ok I lied. Not only am I a petulent child, or at least have been led to believe that I am such, I am also chicken shit and I will not be dealing with this problem today. Right now, suffering in silence seems like a much better option and no longer will I bother others with this problem. The end.

Now, go thank your first blogger!

Happy Thank Your First Commenter Day

November 22, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

Subtitled: Neil is awesome for giving me something to write about while I think of something clever…therefore this post may be up for a very long time, cause the hits, they’re not coming.

The lovely Neil, in a way to bring together Thanksgiving and Blogging, has thought of Thank Your First Commenter Day, as a way to give thanks to the first person who commented on your blog. How many of us really think about the first person who noticed us and said “hey”? Do you even still acknowledge your first commenter’s presence? Or have they since long gone and left the blogosphere, never to return again?

My first commenter was way back in August* (cause you know August was so freaking long ago, where oh where has the time gone?) by Lady Natasha. The sad thing is though, that I’ve since seen Natasha’s name once or twice around blog world and have only read her blog once, the day she commented. So, me, being the nice person that I am, would like to thank Lady Natasha for the following comment:

Wow, what a great blog- - I’m definitely bookmarking you!
Best wishes,
Natasha
www.postcardlife.blogspot.com

It really was a very nice comment on my very young blog that has since become the one of the coolest places to be, right up there with Riker’s Island. In all seriousness, thank you Natasha for being my first commenter** and giving this little blog of mine hope.

Now if you too have nothing to post and/or are feeling nice and would like to thank your first commenter, you may participate as well in just four easy steps:

1. Go into your archives and find the first person who ever commented on your blog.
2. Copy the URL and a special thank-you message — and post it either in my comments OR on your own site.
3. If you don’t have any comments yet, don’t feel like a loser. Did the Pilgrims give up? Of course not. They just stole from the Indians. Just write a comment here at “No Pasa Nada” about how much of a loser you are and pretty soon, everyone will come to you, showing pity. In this competitive blogging world, you have to use whatever works.
4. Happy “Thank Your First Commenter Day!”

*If you read that post and then make fun of me, I’ll have to drop kick your ass
** for the record my second commenter was some girl named Lizzie. No clue what happened to her though. Never read her blog either.