butterflies

i'm making a presentation to about 100 people in one hour.

my stomach feels sick. is there any way i can get out of it? no. i cut my lip on a starbucks lid this morning and said that it had impaired my speech, but that didn't work. i almost ate spinach last night in the hopes that i would get e. coli and get out of it. nothing will work. it's too late. the show must go on.

i'll be fine, really. i have given this presentation to two smaller groups already. but it just bugs me to stand up in front of a lot of people. and the worst part--there is no AV. so it will be all eyes on me. ugh.

thanks for listening. or reading?

in portland

i am across the country and i'm sleepy. i have not been sleeping more than 5 hours per night this week. my body just can not handle the time change.

but i am having some fun in portland. seriously, this town is ridiculous. the people tend to be too friendly and maybe too hip? the sidewalks are like hipster catwalks. okay, maybe it's not that hip. but only because you throw a homeless hippie in here and there. and maybe a weird gangly hippie who wants to do some faith healing on you. whatever.

so this trip has been lame as far as the work goes. i am here for maybe 6 total hours of work. over 4 days. lots and lots of free time. so luckily i have a friend in town. last night carter and i went to a couple of bars. i was too old and not hip enough to be in the last bar, but that is fine. at least i smelled ok--that is more than i can say for many people in that bar.

our last stop was a donut shop called voodoo donut. sooo good. i had a "memphis mafia" donut that is a banana fritter with bananas, peanut butter, chocolate chips. yumm. (my stomach hurts the next morning though) so while we were in there, carter asked about an eating contest and the girl was like "if you eat this in 1 minute and 20 seconds, it's free." it was the biggest donut i have ever seen. and he did it. and it was free. but it was very disturbing to watch. competitive eating is so weird. the whole tiome, i was like, "you are gonna lose and that donut is gonna cost you $25. you better chew faster." i am sure that my words of confidence helped him to pull through a eat the DONUT (all caps because the thing was huuuge).

good times. today i am leaving portland for corvallis, oregon. good times.

big gay heart

little, silly things make me happy.

the lemonheads have a new album coming out and they are touring. it's not the original band, but it's evan dando with two musicians from the descendants (i think?). i can't say that i really ever loved the lemonheads, but i have all of their albums. so i guess i really like them. or liked them?

in a day when there isn't much good music to be found, it's nice to get something new that feels old.

cheers!

things i hate

i just flew in from portland and am pretty miserable. and tired.
i was there for one night. i was in a plane longer than i was actually there.
i hate that.

the long flight helped to to think of a lot of the other things i hate:

-lack of sleep.

-people who act like babies can control crying on planes. you would think that i would be a bastard about this, but i actually feel bad for the people with crying kids. there is absolutely nothing they can do about it. babies will cry because they want to. so stop folling your eyes and shaking your head.

-blog comments from people who don't identify themselves.

-cleptomaniacs. i went to dinner with some people last night who just NEEDED to steal a glass. i was miserable and annoyed. it's not cool--are you 21 getting your first martini? NO. so leave the glass on the table and don't make me feel uncomfortable.
(also, i have to mention that tommy lee of motley crue, supernova and the sex tape was there at the restaurant. pretty funny.)

-builders and realtors. we found out yesterday that we're not moving in to our new house until oct 13 now, because construction is not done. they're blaming it on the rain (haha milli vanilli) but i am blaming it on them being liars who knew they would never get it done in time anyway.

there are many more things to list but i am too tired. and i have to go.

cars suck.

i really hate cars.

yesterday, saturday, the car was inspected. and of course, they found something wrong with it. they always do. and it always costs a minimum of $500 to fix the problem--no matter what it is. why is that?

the funny thing is that we have one side mirror duct taped on, because emily clipped it on a big truck that was double-parked in front of wawa (holla back if you love some shorties at wawa!). so we thought we'd have to get that fixed for like $700, but it was fine. just like my dad says, duct tape can fix anything. (if you know harold, you know he would NEVER say that--but i am sure he thinks it...sometimes.) so we scraped by with the minimum $500 yesterday. not too bad, i guess? i would never know. ever.

so today, we're all ready to get in the car to go to emily's aunt's in deleware. we get to the car and i realize the back tire is totally flat. ugh. so i get to stay behind and not go to deleware (not a big deal--AT ALL). so i get all tough and manly and know that i can change the tire--the ONE thing i actually can do on a car.

i get the car all jacked up but i can not for the life of me get the bolts look. i am kicking the crobar, practically sitting on it (long ways, of course. eewwww!) and it will not budge. i guess the last time the tire was off of the car, they used a super-human pneumatic gun to tighten the bolts. so i am all upset, because i can not get it done. i call triple a. or whatever service we have. the guy comes, he can't get the thing off either. he has some sort of gun. he gets it off. i give him the spare. the spare doesn't fit. WHAT?

so he puts the flat back on and gets a little air compressor. the tire fills and doesn't go flat? he wants to tow me--for like $150. i'm cheap, i risk it and take the car to the closest station. they take the tire off, check it and can not find any leaks. so i came back home.

i think some jackass emptied the air out of my tire and probably watched me suffer from his window and laughed his ass off. grr.

no more fire crotch!

i love me some celebrity gossip.

in fact, i check sites like perezhilton and pinkisthenewblog every day. but i have to say...let's give lindsay lohan a break. belive me, i like her less than anyone else, but the recent posts i have seen have been ridiculous. there are actually some people out there looking for photos of this girl where her dress is up. you know, everyone wants to see her "fire crotch!"

well i don't. and neither should you.

so for that reason alone, i am starting a non-fire crotch movement. it's starting right here, right now. i'm starting my own photoshop revolution in honor of people i shouldn't really care about.

so bring it on paris hilton. expose your cha cha.
let's go, tara reid. slip the nip again. (actually, don't.)

i'll fix it.

so hard for it honey

i always heard that the song "she works hard for her money" was about a bathroom attendant.

but seriously, let's think about this. are you really working hard if you are sitting there, handing people paper towels? it's not like you're scrubbing the bathroom floor. i mean, yes, you are subject to lots of smells and visions of things you never want to see. but you are not working hard for your money.

i've had some experiences recently with people in this line of profession--in low class bars in philadelphia. see, to me the bathroom attendant is 100% unneccessary. and 100% weird. weird because you feel like you are being watched (women, remember that men stand at urinals while peeing--watch your back!). weird because you feel like you have to tip them for doing something you normally prefer to do. weird because weird bars have attendants now! i am talking about bars that serve beer and cheese fries, not a fancy restuarant.

i'm talking about chickie's and pete's (south philly). i am also talking about the public house (center city), where they have TWO attendants. just in case there are lots of guys peeing, one can turn on the faucet while the other pumps the paper towel dispenser. but imagine being alone when there are two attendants. creepy.


so at the public house...if those guys were working hard for their money, it wasn't by "burning the midnight oil" or "putting some elbow grease into it." it was by coming up with the hottest new rhymes and crazy matrix-style hip-hop moves.

at chickie's and pete's the guy just gives you paper towels. but his selection of fragrances is phenomenal. on friday, my friend fran came out of the men's room wearing drakkar noir. amazing. later on, i went in and asked the gentelman what he had that would make the ladies scream (and flashed him my wedding bad). he gave me the jean-paul gautier cologne. i almost puked. but the bottle made me laugh. it's a man's bust that is striped blue. so gay. seriously gay-especially to be in a bar across from the stadiums in south philly. regardless, i paid for it (it being the smell) all night and in the morning. i will never wear the jean-paul again. i probably never would have anyway, had i not been shitfaced.

the moral of the story? if you do go to a place where there is a bathroom attendant, embrace it and get your dollar's worth by practically bathing in their cologne.

urban legend?

so i heard a really funny story a few weeks back and i was wondering if it's true or not.

i heard the story through a friend of a friend, and it was about one of her friends, who i do not know. and then emily told the story to one of her friends at work, who had also heard the story. she made it sound like the people are somehow connected, but i am skeptical. anyway, enough rambling. let me tell the story:

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a woman and her boyfriend, who live in nyc, were dogsitting a small terrier. they came home from work one day and found it dead. they didn't know what to do with it, exactly. so they researched the matter and found a place to take the dog--to dispose of it. being in nyc, they had no car. so the woman wrapped the dog in a plastic bag and stuffed it in her work bag (a laptop bag). she got on the subway with the dead dog in the bag. after a stop or two, a guy started chatting her up. it went something like this:

the guy: wow, that bag looks heavy.
the girl: yeah, i was working late so i have my laptop.
the guy: oh that sucks. i hate working late.
the girl: yeah. (thinking...oh my god, i have a dead dog in my bag. leave me alone.)

the guy continued to flirt with her and she just went along with it. finally, the guy announced that he was getting off the subway. he told her it was nice talking to her, etc. just as the doors opened, he grabbed her back and ran off the train with it, as the doors closed.

he took off with the bag. he thought he scored a laptop. little did he know there was no "intel inside"--there was a dead dog inside.

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okay, so to me this story is AMAZING. i only wish that it happened to me. but i would never touch a dead dog. nor would i put it in my bag.

but is it real? have you heard this story, or something like it, before?

see you in hell!

so today is the day that i have decided to leave myspace.

here is where i will continue to write about the bullshit of my life. and you will read it. and yes, you will love it.

i'm not really sure about the layout of this page, the name of the blog, etc. but let's just say it's a work in progress. i will begin to post this week. and i might start to repost stuff from my old blog, just because i don't want to lose everything i wrote over the past year. it might be worth something one day.