Archive for February, 2006

A List of Grievances

February 10, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

Like a good neighbor

A conversation between me and my roommate about our neighbor upstairs…

“Are you talking about the man/woman whatever, who stops around for like two hours in the morning? Which is fine on a weekday, but on weekends it sucks”

“can’t stand it. And he’s always slamming the damn toilet seat too”

“what can they (Condo Association) do about it?”

“Don’t know, but they’re handing out house noise rules again”

“I suppose the adult thing to do is to just go up there and knock and tell him politely how much he’s disturbing us. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll bust out my nine and show that motherfucker how annoying he is”

“wow. You are on something today”

“crack”

For the Tourists

I’m sure that you enjoy standing around looking at the Supreme Court, it’s really pretty and all at night. But for Christ’s sake if you stand on the middle of the sidewalk when people are obviously trying to get home, I will have no choice but to barrel over your five year old. And possibly give you the finger in the process. Depends on how nice I’m feeling.

And other random assorted things:

People who ask me how I’m feeling about things that happened like days ago
People who don’t let me help
And People in general
Oh and Peter Gallagher dude, get thee to a new show. Now.
And Fox Broadcasting; I’m over Bill O’Reilly, he sucks, everyone knows. But I think maybe you should start thinking about the writing on the OC. It used to be good, but since Johnny makes the fourth boy ravaged due to Marissa Cooper; I’m thinking they’re in need of some new material.
And one more thing, GREEN MEANS GO!
And Cake Love is so very yummy. Really yummy. I swear I didn’t eat two cupcakes.

Use Your Words

February 9, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“Words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean. Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes. “~Theodore Dreiser, 1900

When Karen asked whether or not those with blogs and/or personal websites felt like we ‘wield any power’ by virtue of what is written on our sites; I responded that I didn’t felt like I had any power and that what little ability I may have in connecting with people, was because I write about a ferociously unstable period of time that pretty much everyone goes through. Other than that though, I pretty much say whatever I’m thinking at the time being, only slightly bordering on completely obscene or TMI.

The thing is that although I would give my left arm to run and win a public office, I can’t speak publicly or to anyone for that matter. The thoughts in my brain, never come across coherently and I end up sounding like I took a line of coke beforehand. It’s that bad. Though yesterday, I made a futile attempt at expressing my feelings via email and instant messenger and I came off not sounding like a crack head, but more like a bitch who proclaimed that she hated everyone and their brother. Which of course wasn’t my intention, especially towards two people that I absolutely adore, but there it was. I used my written words to make one of my best friends cry. Go me. Thankfully that situation settled itself out; but left me really questioning my ability to express myself through the written word. I mean if I can’t write anything out and I can’t speak without ‘himming’ and ‘hawing’ then what use am I?

Nevertheless, when I’m having these introspective moments, I realize that I do have some sort of power, both good and bad. Yes, at times it comes off as a complete crapload of randomness and other times you see that yes, thankfully, I have a point (like right now). I received a comment yesterday from someone who recently opened a BofA account and was wondering where in my entries I proclaimed BofA’s eternal damnation due to complete suckage. I smiled; because if my words have the power to destroy the BofA monopoly; then indeed my words do wield some pretty awesome power. Here I am, saving America from shitty banks, one customer at a time.

Humped

February 8, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“Some persons are very decisive when it comes to avoiding decisions. ” ~Brendan Francis

Would you rather spend your formative years with a person who has a voice that reminds you of nails on a chalk board but you know would do you some good OR with a person who makes you want to gouge your eyes out with a rusty nail but leaves you in a position to move a little easier? Tough call.

Would you rather spend a long weekend in Martha’s Vineyard being taken care of by your mother and purchasing 8 pairs of Reefs for $10 a pop OR in our lovely nation’s capitol where there is ample opportunity to make thirteen visits to Trader Joe’s?

And in completely unrelated news whatsoever; last night while walking home I cried out in horror-an emphatic Oh Fuck!-as I watched my neighbor get out of her car and drop a bottle of wine. It was in slow motion. I could see her awkwardly attempt to open the car door with her day bag on one arm and a gym bag on the other, bottle of red in hand. I knew what would happen but I couldn’t help, I could only watch as the bottle slipped onto the concrete and suddenly fill the air with the delicious smell of Pinot Noir. I hope she knows that I felt her pain.

Happy Hump Day!

Be It Resolved

February 7, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter which fork you use. ” ~Emily Post

Subtitled: More inane thoughts from a naïve 22 year old; who thinks she knows everything. You are so very welcome.

I know it’s February. I am very well aware, what, with the 60 degree weather in all. But that’s beside the point.

So why don’t you get to the point?

I am, so chill the fuck out.

I’ve never been into making resolutions. It seems like a) a waste of time and b) everyone says, “I’ll resolve to lose 55lbs by March” and by January 3rd, that leftover rum cake is looking mighty tasty. But that never happens to me. Ever. Now that I’ve had time to think about resolutions and process the thought of them, I find that it has nothing to do with changing your entire life in the matter of one year. No, you will not find the solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict. Sorry, to burst that bubble for you. It’s more about making slight changes that won’t force you to completely give up your life, but instead do things that won’t make you want to spontaneously combust and/or drop kick everyone.

For example, I suggested to Peg that her resolution be that when she would like for her assistant or one of the many people that work under her (I know, she’s so bad ass) to do something; that she ask politely. Like saying “Please” not “You need to do this”. Because I’m sure those people in return are thinking, ‘I don’t need to do shit for you’. And I also reminded her that when she’s having a bad day, like I don’t know, her daughter just asked her for $500 and a kidney and is also a general pain in the ass; that she not take this out on those that work for her. But instead speak in a tone, which would make them be a little more willing to be nice in her time of need. Not, in a tone, that would make her coworkers have images of her being severely injured. Because that would be sad.

Of course the above suggestions for Peg were purely for her own good and had nothing to do with me. Nope. Never. I just don’t understand why people make these grandiose resolutions to lose weight, get married, find a boyfriend etc. But are incapable to resolve just to be nicer and to use their fucking manners. It’s actually a lot easier than resolving to not eat burritos anymore in order to get one’s ass in tip top shape.

And yes, I’m saying this all to myself as well. I’m sure Emily Post would be so proud.

Just call me Oscar

February 6, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“When angry, count four; when very angry, swear.” ~Mark Twain, Pudd’nhead Wilson, 1894

I look mean don’t I? And downright scary and evil and like I have the maturity of a baby seal? No, that is not the face of a person who last night drove for an hour around and around Northeast DC trying to find 495. You need not tell me I’m a moron, I’m pretty well aware. And let’s hope that I don’t look like a person who would then decide that all of her friends hate her and why go to a stupid Super Bowl party in Maryland that I wasn’t even invited to. There’s no point in that really. We won’t get into my chronic foot-in-mouth disease by which I discover my Super Bowl party evite, in my hotmail account. The account that hasn’t been looked at since May 2005. *hangs head in deep dark shame*

Now only happy thoughts, like emails from Coach saying “Our gift to you”. But wait, if you look at the entire email as opposed to the little Gmail notification, you too, would realize that it says “Our gift to you: Free shipping.” *motherfuckers*

And to the spawn of Satan person from Bank of America who Googled “BofA sucks” and came to my blog; I strongly suggest you move to a new place of employment, before I begin sticking pins into my BofA voodoo doll. And you end up with a mysterious stomach illness. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. *shitheads*