Archive for April, 2006

Twitch

April 28, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“You’re fine, all right, you’re fit as a fucking fiddle.”- Wonderboys

For lack of a better phrasing, actually for lack of a better education and vocabulary, my Claritin has got me all fucked the fuck up. I’m jittery yet tired and I’ve been chewing ice like it’s my job (kind of like the way I use the ‘C’ word. Ahem.)

On the real though (On the real? The hell?) a lot of things have me twitching lately, like say people at Ben and Jerry’s, which totally deserves a post of its own. As in, your children may get injured if you sit there and have them take an hour to pronounce ‘Chunky Monkey’. Junior needs to hurry his ass up, because there are disgruntle PMSing adults behind him, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions if held up.

Then there was yesterday morning when I hadn’t gone to the gym because I overslept and I knew I would be able to go Thursday evening because I had to go out and then my eye seriously started to twitch. Because ohmygod I need to run because if I don’t run I won’t do well at the race and then I’ll die. Or some such shit.

Also during the past few days I’ve randomly been outside in the middle of the day or even when I leave the gym at 7:30 AM rushing to get home…the question is, who are these people with nothing to do all day except for frolic around in the sun?? Again with the random eye spasms and such.

And finally, I’ve been rather OCD about checking my sitemeter lately. It’s become this strange obsession about finding out (A) who I know in Denmark, NY and (B) there is such a place? Who the hell knew? Which is probably a sign to slowly back away from the sitemeter hands on my head and so forth, but I can’t. Instead I’ll try to figure out who the hell loves me in Amsterdam and if that person loves me so much, why can’t s/he hook a sister up with some Maoz??

There was something else, but alas and most fortunately for you, I cannot remember what it was. But this all only shows that I am très random and that I should probably get this eye thing checked out.

I remembered the “something else”: Andy Card at Oceanaire. With Secret Service. Seeing that shit made me thank the Lord that I’m not epilleptic nor have tourets because who knows what I would’ve done. It also made me think how happy I am to see my tax dollars hard at work. Awesome, indeed.

Expect the Unexpected

April 27, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“Anger is short-lived madness.” ~Horace

Well fuck me…it’s mighty difficult to write anything while upset or depressed or feeling like someone has just stomped all over your stomach, ripped your insides out and then tossed them against the wall. You can thank me for that lovely visual later.

That’s how I’m feeling right now. So crappy that yesterday during free cone day I went twice, we’re talking rough people. Getting into it will only make it worse. The hardest thing is that when I was younger and someone didn’t like me, naivety took over and I figured I could win that person back by begging and or doling out dollars if she (it was usually a female) needed one during lunch. I thought I was being nice and in hindsight – like by the next year – I realized that I had the words “Use me” written on my forehead in bold. At 22, my expectations of people and how I react to how others treat me has gotten fairly better, though I suppose I’m still somewhat naïve. I am an adult and I associate with adults. That said, I expect for other adults to treat me with the same amount of respect with which I treat them. Period. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, but at least give me some sor t of idea as to why.

Now I’m regretting bringing this up. The more I think about the current predicament, the more hurt, upset and angrier I get. I didn’t expect to be treated this way and now that it’s come to this, where I’m hurt and the offender probably could give two shits, I don’t know what to do with myself.

For now I will sit here and fume and try to figure out what exactly I did wrong because right now I have no fucking clue. No explanation, no nothing. It’s like it is what it is and I should just accept it and move on. That’ll teach me about my expectations of people. But no one expects a fucking adult to behave in the same manner as a 7^th grader.

Then again, this might just be a case of Pot. Kettle. Black. Who the hell knows…actually I do know one thing, I’m upset and I’ve been to Ben & Jerry’s three times in 24 hours. Not. Good.

Because nothing says Spring like a tour bus from Iowa

April 25, 2006 | Filed under: Gruyere With That Wine, The District Of Columbia

“April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go.” ~Christopher Morley, John Mistletoe

While I wholeheartedly feel that you wonderful perfect people deserve a recap of the weekend events that lead to said table dancing, I fear that right now will not be that time. So you might end up getting this recap Friday because everyone should hear about the fucking tree frogs and why I suddenly love Canadian bacon and all things maple.

Instead there is a much bigger problem out there right now. A problem that involves a leader with a bright red umbrella and 25 preteens from Duluth Christian Academy all compulsively clad in bright orange t-shirts.

And now, a few open letters…

To the 8th grade class from Duluth Christian Academy,

While I appreciate your excitement of being in the same city as Norm Coleman, who I’m sure many of you scantily clad girls gush over at a moment’s notice, it is not appropriate to (A) be scantily clad on the metro, because I for one, do not need to see 8th grade boobs. Been there, done that and (B) it is not appropriate to scream at the top of your lungs at Sarah and Bobby who are a few seats down about their “like awesome kiss, like on the way back to the Holiday Inn on Capitol Hill” last night. I don’t want to hear about it and neither does the older Burberry dressed man sitting next to you. Also know that the poles situated at the center of the metro are for holding so that you don’t fall on your ass. While it would be most entertaining to watch you keel over every time the metro stopped short, you hold the pole and stand up. Why you’re swinging around and attempting pull ups is beyond me and I’m sure your parents and the Almighty, would be ashamed of your horrid public behavior. While we’re at it, if you stand in the middle of the fucking sidewalk trying to capture that perfect shot of the Supreme Court, I reserve the right to give you the finger. And if you yell one more fucking time in my ear, I’ll punch you in the mouth so fucking hard that you’ll no longer need those blue and red braces.

Peace, Love and Paul Wellstone,

Heather B.

Also, tell your teachers that wearing bright orange is tacky. And emblazoning it with “Duluth Christian Academy 8th Grade Spring Trip 2006” will only attract the kidnappers and people who can’t stand stupid tourists even more. I’m just sayin’…

To the Jones Family of Little Rock, Arkansas,

First and foremost, Mr. Jones, I seriously love the fanny pack and your hairy pasty white legs. Nothing says spring in the nation’s capital like a throwback to 1987. Since, we’re speaking right now, I should also let you know that while I’m sure you are also so very eager to have dragged little Joe and Beth to the Air and Space Museum (though the rest of their friends are enjoying fun in the sun in Orlando, but nice choice on the trip), it is not all that good of an idea to (A) stick your arm in the door when you fear it may leave, that is unless you aren’t all that attached to your right arm, then by all means feel free to have it removed by way of WMATA and (B) scream at the nearly catatonic commuters at 7:45 AM whether or not this – the red line – goes to the Smithsonian. It would help if you were literate and then you could learn to read the very complex metro map that the 8 year old I babysit for can navigate. I should also mention that your wife has lipstick on her teeth and again, what’s with the loud talking with the fucking southern drawl and holy hell, your children look like they might jump off the platform if you don’t stop with the “White House is so exciting” shit.

Peace, Love and common sense not to stand in the middle of the fucking platform,

Heather B.

To the tour bus full of senior citizens that swarmed onto metro,

Love the blue hair, Ida, really I do, but if you don’t move your octogenarian ass to right side of the escalator, I might have to push you. And that wouldn’t be fun for anyone.

Peace, Love and FDR forever,

Heather B.

To the people driving down Constitution looking for directions,

It should be needless to say, but apparently y’all aren’t too hip to the obvious body language that is the ipod and cell phone. As in, if my ipod bud is in one ear and my cell phone is to the other ear, that most likely means that I’m not interested in speaking and/or paying attention to you; because something serious is going on like a debate of what color I should have my toes painted. Also? When I told you – in a half assed, exasperated manner – that the White House was just down the street and to the left, I really had no fucking clue what I was talking about. No really, I don’t know how to get from the Hill to the White House. I also have no clue as to where the Tidal Basin is, but that’s another story for another day. And for fuck’s sake, learn how to drive.

Peace, Love and you really drove that ’96 pick up truck all the way from Oklahoma?

Heather B.

Sucky, but in a good way

April 25, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.” ~Hans Christian Anderson

Really exciting plans for today included, the Dada exhibit at the National Gallery (my first foray into a museum since the 8th grade) and then a flight to Austin for a five day vacation.

Really exciting plans now that I’ve determined that someone up there hates me? Crying silently at my desk and making vacation plans for Martha’s Vineyard (me? pretentious? nooo.)

Oh and as a super added plus bonusy thing…It’s free cone day mofo’s which means that I’ll be crying silently over a cone of oatmeal cookie ice cream.

And you?

My sincerest apologies

April 24, 2006 | Filed under: La Madre

“Stay busy, get plenty of exercise, and don’t drink too much. Then again, don’t drink too little.” ~Herman “Jackrabbit” Smith-Johannsen

I’m on hiatus until I can think of something more acceptable than “I got super drunk on Saturday night and danced on a table” or something with more depth than “I love Roary and Kris” or you know, something a litte more clever than “crickets, cicadas and motherfucking tree frogs. I love them Canadians.” Or maybe something a little more in the realm of reality than “You people need to stop having babies because right now I want one too!” So, until such time, you’re stuck with this unfortunate post that makes very little sense and only proves the severity of my randomness. I apologize immensely. Please don’t hate me.

Oh and running while seriously hungover is fucking hard, so don’t do it. Speaking of running…

And your weekend?