I sold my soul for rock and roll... and a case of beer.
- Beulah
About Me
Syndicate
+reading
+listening
+travels
Nashville (really)
Vegas
+playing favorites
dahl's house
dooce
hg-spot
le petit hiboux
que sera sera
the random muse
sassy little punkin
smitten
tension is to be loved
this fish
unable to relinquish the crown
+guilty pleasures
go fug yourself
snarkywood
stereogum
+neighbors
completing the square
daniel moore
halfass
hollismb
lady crumpet's armoire
messages from the ether
titus barik
weird babe
witt and wisdom
+archives
current
1greenEYE Designs
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
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3.26.2005 | Spring Cleaning and New Links
Things are changing up a bit around here.
The house has been cleaned top to bottom and is spic and span. We actually have things on the walls.
A certain package just arrived from Shanghai to Anchorage, and it's on its way into my hot little hands.
And, last but certainly not least, your Mingaling is moving to a new address: http://mingaling.typepad.com/blog/.
Update now!
mingaling
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3.25.2005 | That is just SO wrong
I was reading a pretty sad article about the school shooting in Minnesota. One of the victims was recounting the horror of looking at the kid in the eye before getting shot. I can't imagine what that must be like, especially at such an age.
Yet, at the same time, something caught my eye at the right side of the screen. It was a banner ad for Lowermybills.com. Nothing unusual you know, except for the gingerbread man HUMPING THE PENIS-SHAPED JAR OF FROSTING.
mingaling
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3.24.2005 | Notsogood reason to get knocked up
I really, really need to have a baby to put all these cute things on.
I'm just saying.
mingaling
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3.22.2005 | Hero
Heather Armstrong is so totally my hero. SO THERE.
mingaling
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3.21.2005 | Thank you, Internet
Thank you all so much for your kind words and thoughts about Sam. Thank you for all the cards, flowers, dog cookies for Maggie, and support for us through this time.
Thank you for being there.
mingaling
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3.16.2005 | Goodbye, sweet girl
Sambo Ming, my best friend, passed away March 15, 2005 at Ansley Animal Clinic due to complications from epilepsy at age 9. She is survived by her adoring parents and adopted sister Maggie May.
I adopted Sam as a gift to myself halfway through undergraduate school. My sister and I drove to the boonies outside of Orlando to Bithlo, also known as the World Famous Home of the Mullet. Amongst the trailer parks and feed stores was the House of Golden Retrievers. The litter had an astonishing 11 puppies. There were several males, but Sam was the last bitch left. Naturally. They originally gave her the name Ginger, but no dog of mine was going to grow up to be a stripper.
The shy little pup we brought home soon revealed her self to be quite the character. Although she got carsick on the way home, riding in the car soon became one of her favorite things. She thoroughly enjoyed terrorizing my father's golden, Goldie, to no end. She also became an Olympic qualified swimmer and spent every waking moment in the pool. Her favorite game was to jump onto unsuspecting swimmers from the deck and attempt to drown you. You could hide underwater for a few seconds, but she would only circle above you like a hungry shark. During trials and tribulations, she was always there for me. She was always ready to go for a car ride (she had an uncanny habit of jumping into any open car door and refusing to come out until she at least got around the block). She was the friendliest dog ever known. A true people-dog, she would rather associate with the bipeds on outings to the dog park as she knew the rewards included many cookies and head/ butt rubs. She was there through all the laughter, and especially all the tears... any sniffling she heard would instantly beckon her to sit next to me snuggle. When I was with her, I felt complete.
When the boy and I met, Sam and I would take weekend trips over to his place. The boy and Sam were inseparable. He was her favorite boy in the whole world, and she lit up when he walked in the room with a Frisbee (which we had to call a ball since that's the only word she knew other than cookie and outside). She would wait until he left, then quickly hop up on the forbidden leather sofa. Every time she was caught she'd give you a little smirk that made you forget what she did in the first place. I often longed to come home to the sweet girl who greeted me with nothing but love I walked in the door. She would greet me with the thumping of her tail and guide me to pet her with my hand, a favorite relaxation technique. She was large enough to give full body hugs, yet sprightly enough to romp about or swim effortlessly. She was so sweet and gentle, yet so tough and stoic. She barely whimpered when in pain or discomfort, and she wrestled like the best of them with Maggie. She would never dare to bother you with her discomfort. Even when she broke her toe, even when we dressed her up in funny clothes... because she was just so giving.
Sam was diagnosed with epilepsy at the age of 3. She was prescribed a treatment of phenobarbitol that limited the amount of seizures and allowed her to live a healthy, active normal life. She had not had a seizure in well over a year. However, on March 14th, she suffered a traumatic seizure that left her weak and unable to move or breathe properly. She was able to walk to the car for one last ride, but her heart stopped shortly after arrival at the veterinarian. We are devastated, but are comforted by the fact that she spent her last days with us doing what she loved most: spending time with us, catching the frisbee at Piedmont Park, and wrestling with Maggie. She brought joy and happiness to every day of my life.
As I sit here typing with tears streaming down my face, I look outside the window to see that the once sunny weather has turned to rain. The sky is mourning, perhaps, at the passing of girl who inspired renditions of You Are My Sunshine with her sweet, loving face. Goodbye Sam, my sunshine. We will always love you.
mingaling
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3.14.2005 | Beer and Bloggers
Tomorrow. Prince of Wales. 7:30-ish.
Word.
mingaling
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3.13.2005 | Switching Teams
After a long, arduous decision-making process, the boy and I have decided to switch teams.
I've been reading self-help articles and looking up devices and mechanisms that will get me through this process, but I'm still apprehensive about the whole thing. I've been totally loyal to my team from the start. Am I ready to convert my ideology to something I know only a little about?
The boy, on the other hand, thinks this is the greatest thing we've embarked upon and is ready and waiting. And now I'm down with it, I just need a little guidance.
So there... I've committed myself, so now I only need to choose my uniform.
This?
Or this?
mingaling
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3.09.2005 | Emails of Doom
A lot of websites have those handy "click to send to a friend" links for articles that may interest them. I would emphasize the word may here, but my sister has taken it to a whole new level.
I rarely get emails of substance or questions about how things are going. Instead, she uses email to warn me of the dangers that exist in our world. Sweet? Notsomuch. I often get drive-by emails from CNN.com or WebMD about freak accidents, the eight-million ways I could die unexpectedly, and the "you can get cancer from {fill in the blank}." As if those weren't weird enough, she has to add her freaky comments to them.
For instance, she sent me this today:
Food poisoning kills 29 children with the comment, "Did we ever eat these? I can't remember what they are."
Some background... we used to live in the Philippines. USED TO. And we never like those, nor are we elementary school children living in the Philippines today.
Some other gems that I have received include:
What's the Most Dangerous Day to Drive? with the comment, "You are not allowed to drive any where on holidays...even if you are visiting us!
Man held over alleged Internet suicide plot with the comment, "Do you think we'll see the end of the world in our lifetime?"
At first I acted like I was amused, poking a little fun at her crazed emails. They were humorous little pick-me-ups to my day from my wacky little sister. But now I can only imagine her sitting in her living room, watching Inside Edition, just waiting to let me know whether it's safe to eat sushi or use a school bathroom ever again.
mingaling
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3.07.2005 | Hands Off
The weekend withdrawal is always so hard for me. It just hurts thinking about going in on a Monday. I figured the least I could do for myself was get a little treat for myself before going into the office.
Now I know everyone loves their Starbucks. I get invigorated just walking into the place and smelling the freshly ground espresso and listening to the chatter of patrons amongst the grinding and the clanking of steel steaming pitchers. Everyone eagerly awaits in line, no matter how long, for their turn to have the barista shout their order to those at the bar. What I hate, however, are those who are a tad too eager. These folks anger me to no end.
It is quite obvious that I am waiting for my order, despite the fact that I have my hands buried underneath the coffee bean display (I can't help it - it just feels so good). Despite the fact that you run directly from the register to the tiny bar top, they're still going to make mine first. Sorry. Yeah, I might be browsing the paper, but when they yell "tall soy latte" I can still recognize the fact that I ordered it a mere 2 minutes ago... and NO IT'S NOT YOURS.*
Don't mess with me before caffeine.
* Okay, I didn't grab it out of her hand, but I did give her the look that 1. shocked her, 2. made her pout to the barista, and 3. put it down very quickly.
mingaling
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3.01.2005 | Three in One
It was cold and cloudy when I walked the dogs this morning.
It started snowing at 10 a.m. while at work.
It was bright and sunny on my drive home tonight.
mingaling
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2.28.2005 | Oscar Night
I don't really have much to comment regarding the Oscars except:
I'm really not getting the Million Dollar Baby hype.
Renee Zellweger always looks fugly.
Cate Blanchett is too beautiful.
Mickey Rooney is still alive!
How did Beyonce score the musical monopoly?
Die, Joan. Just die.
And the doppelganger alert:
 
mingaling
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2.26.2005 | The Hooch
mingaling
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2.24.2005 | And I Quote
"Oh yeah, I guess it is in May. Oops." -- Sibling
I COULD KILL HER.
mingaling
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2.23.2005 | Perfect T
I'm currently obsessed with graphic t-shirts.
Like this one. And this one. And my schoolmates would love this one.
And this one's on its way... in pink, of course.
mingaling
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2.22.2005 | Around the Corner
I have a little time ticker thing in the left sidebar of this page to remind me of upcoming travel dates. This morning it said "Nashville - 77 days" but now it reads 9. I apparently mistakenly thought that my family trip was in May instead of March this year. As in 9 days away March. As in MY WHOLE FAMILY WILL STOP HERE ON THEIR WAY UP AND I HAVEN'T REQUESTED ANY TIME OFF kind of March.
The thing is, I never do this. I'm a born planner and love to organize every aspect of my travel agenda weeks and weeks in advance, so I have no excuse for this except work-related mania.
So excuse me whilst I plan a Meeting of the Moms, reserve some rooms, and pull out the rest of my hair.
mingaling
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2.19.2005 | Shameless
It's official: I have outed myself and become the newest addition to the Atlanta Metblog. You know... because everyone needs a non-paying gig and all.
mingaling
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2.18.2005 | Our New Baby
Ta da! Yes, my lovely, very very hetero boyfriend just bought a Passat wagon. After a few minutes of "grocery-getter" jokes I applauded his decision, as the wagon and its suprising luxury is actually pretty sweet. It really is perfect for the dogs and road trips.
Also, when I told him it was so roomy and joked that it could fit 2 car seats, strollers, and a pack-n-play, he actually smiled.
mingaling
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2.17.2005 | Atlanta Metblog Meetup
Had a great time meeting some of the Atlanta Metroblog folks at the Hand In Hand last night (and am also looking forward to writing for them in the very near future - stay tuned).
mingaling
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2.15.2005 | Choices
There used to be a time when there would be two fantastic shows back to back and it didn't matter if they were on school nights because I would so kick school's ass if I acted like a little bitch and didn't make it to both and drank a fifth at each one.
Now this is the time where I admit I am a little bitch and I'd totally kick ass IF I didn't work eight billion hours a week for Company X and IF wasn't such a tired piece of shit by the time a real show started, but I am.
STUPID CHOICES.
mingaling
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2.14.2005 | VD
One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: that word is love.
~ Sophocles
VD could stand for a variety of things today - what one could catch after a rendezvouz this evening, my vile disposition this morning, or anything else more clever than this Hallmark holiday.
However, it was the gift of one single red rose from a perfect stranger that has melted the crankiness away. I'm looking forward to a quiet evening at home with the boy, away from overcrowded restaurants, with good food, candles, and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.
Cheers to you and yours.
mingaling
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2.11.2005 | ATL Blogorama Deux
Click for more
The gang met up at Trader Vic's downtown for some mighty mai-tai's and revelry. It was good fun, and Titus even got into the Asian-babe network thanks to Oliver.
mingaling
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2.10.2005 | Sometimes It Just Depends On the Weather
Atlanta has been cloudy and gray for days, the cold biting at every exposed inch of skin. I had a million muddled thoughts in my head stemming from the events of last week, the long torturous work weekend, and the hectic return to life starting Monday. My much neglected self struggled with these thoughts as the sun struggled to regain its place in the sky, and today it finally broke through.
The cold has remained, but the sky is sunny and bright and clear so that one can see the skyline of Midtown without a doubt. I've had a lot to thing about - work, life, and what really matters. The good, the bad, and the most difficult inbetweens. I felt a little used and abused lately and it became painfully obvious this weekend. However, I now realize that I had a part in it as much as others. I can't justify giving up because others say I have to. It stung, but I've let it go. As the sun is out, but the cold remains, I'm finally breaking through.
mingaling
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2.08.2005 | Happy New Year
Gong Hay Fat Choy!
Image from allrecipes.com
mingaling
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2.07.2005 | Mai Tai Thursday!
The first one was so much fun that we decided to establish a recurring event so that others can join in. Mary suggested Trader Vics, and it looks like fun.
Thursday night. 7:30. Come one, come all!
mingaling
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2.06.2005 | Things I Used to Love That Now Make Me Uncomfortable
Sex In The City
Four fabulously single women in NYC with the best shoes and a penchant for vodka - who wouldn't love that? Well, it was fabulous until you realized that they continued to be single, that they continued to be unfulfilled in their personal lives, and made the same mistakes over and over in their relationships. It was like watching the pretty people screw up like I did, then screw up even worse. With more style, of course.
And on that note, Vodka
My liver has changed its mind. Tequila is now my friend.
Tragically sappy movies like Closer
I love a good cry, but since the divorce I am a fervent cheater-hater. Even if it helps the story line.
Eggs
I cannot stand the thought of eating them anymore. At first it was just scrambled and over-easy; the runny-ness of them made me shiver. But now its all eggs I can't stand to eat. Just the thought of them... ick.
My age
I mean, I'm almost t h i r t y. 3-0. Oh my god.
mingaling
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2.04.2005 | "Retreat"
Today I'm going on another department "retreat" over the weekend. Yes, this will be the second "retreat" for the year, but unlike the first "retreat" this one will be in a conference center with nature outside (where it should be), heat & a/c, and a real toilet and stuff.
At this "retreat," the theme will be building better relationships. The first "retreat" dealt with teambuilding, but apparently teams were not built nor did we build good relationships. Perhaps it was the fact that we were outside. A lot. Or maybe it was the fact that we were in cabins without heat or even a door in relatively chilly weather. Maybe it was all the bug spray. You know, just maybe.
So instead, our itinerary consists of 3 days of building better relationships in 3-hour blocks of workshops until midnight in which our staff will tell us why we blow. This is to develop "trusting relationships" and create a space of open honesty. There will be 360-degree feedback sessions, which in "retreat"-speak means 180-degrees of them telling us to suck it. You know, it's all about better relationship building.
Ah, "retreats".... it's just so great to get away from it all.
mingaling
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2.03.2005 | Apparently This Is Our Company's New Motto
"I know you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure that you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."
~Richard M. Nixon
mingaling
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2.02.2005 | 884
Dollars, that is. Apparently the Internal Revenue Service and the State of Georgia owe me. Can't believe it - ME!
mingaling
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1.31.2005 | Our Dirt Pile
The construction of our condo at the element at Atlantic Station is moving along. They've almost completed the Barking Lot dog area in Linear Park.
In addition, we've already joined Lane Co.'s private gym (The Art of Wellness) for condo residents. It's quite swank, and I'll probably be spending more time on the massage table than on the precor.
mingaling
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1.30.2005 | "Mason Jennings is just so cute!"
So on Friday, after being sent home for an impending ice storm that wasn't actually going to appear for another 7 hours, we went to Smith's to grab a bite to eat and head upstairs for the Mason Jennings show.
I wasn't exactly feeling like myself. First, I didn't finish my beer (maybe it was all the margaritas from lunch?) and second, I didn't finish my food. Brushing that off, the boy and I made fun of one of the opening acts at the adjoining table. There they were with their hipster hair and duds, while we sang "Shave and a Haircut, two bits!" aloud.
We sauntered upstairs for the endlessly long wait for Mason to come onstage. The crowd was a strange mix of L.Lo wannabes (with too little clothes and too much makeup) and older, wiser music lovers. However, I was incredibly annoyed by the L.Lo girls who kept jumping up and down, screaming about how cute he was during the music and trying to bum cigarettes. For the last time, I DON'T SMOKE. I attribute all of this to becoming old and cantankerous.
Mason played a great set, though. And the boy said it best: "It's a crime he's not more famous."
mingaling
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1.29.2005 | Icy
Icy
Originally uploaded by mingaling.
My backyard was a tad bit more white than usual this morning.
mingaling
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1.26.2005 | Manuel's
"Who's that?" I said, pointing to the wall.
"Um, that's FDR."
"No, under him."
Underneath the huge portrait of FDR hung a curious object in Manuel's Tavern. We all looked behind the bar, above the various bottles of vodka, scotch, and liquors, to the small wooden encasement attached to the wall. Within its confines was a simple, golden urn.
mingaling
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1.22.2005 | A Night Like Any Other
"I have octopus stuck in my teeth."
"Here, let me suck it out."
It's conversation like this with the boy that frightens our nearby diners.
At Machu Picchu, we feasted on ceviche mixtos, loma saltado, and Cristal beer. I'm reminded of the trip to Miami with D, in which we stopped at another Peruvian restaurant. He wanted to order everything in Spanish, which meant my turn was little more than "me gusta, uh, numero 40?" I focus hard on the cartoonish decor and many llamas around the room.
"I wonder what llama tastes like."
"They don't eat them."
"Why?"
"They spit on you."
mingaling
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1.20.2005 | 110 Hours - HE DID IT!
My pal D is on a completed his mission to broadcast live from WPRK 91.5 in Winter Park, Florida for 110 consecutive hours. In doing so, he raised money for the station and may break the Guinness world record. They even installed a shower (with mic) in the studio for him.
Hear him live online.
Hear him on NPR.
Who wouldn't want to shower on the radio? Really?
mingaling
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1.18.2005 | Arrrghrwoarkararkphlebit
That's the first thing that came out of my mouth this morning.
My throat is very, very angry. A fiery mucus-y angriness, further attested to by the boy and a flashlight. And although it's only 20 degrees outside, I plan on subsisting entirely on icy deliciousness today.
mingaling
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1.17.2005 | Martha, eat your heart out
My new addiction does not involve pastries or booze (suprisingly), but hoops, patterns, and thread. Lots of it.
I got hooked through Jenny Hart's Stitch It kit. Now I will be able to divert all of my income towards the purchasing of materials at Sublime Stitching.
At first I thought it was going to be quite a task since all the little stitches look really delicate, but it ended up being really easy. During the UNC/ Wake Forest game, I finished two tea towels before the final score and even before the boy couldn't take it anymore and had to go in the backyard to hit golf balls while screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs.
When he came back in, I tried to cheer him up with my pretty tea towels, promising oodles and oodles of future stitching projects in Carolina blue. We then pity-partied over to LNT for some new pillows and chenille throws, which he was very happy about.
Oops. I think I promised not to let that one out...
mingaling
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1.14.2005 | Going Live
So the new ATL Blogger gang got together at the Righteous Room on a cold and rainy night. Despite the poor weather, we all ate, drank, and were quite merry (speaking of Mary, see her version here).
It was such a hit that we agreed to do it monthly around town (as if we really needed another reason to get boozey).
hollismb, Mary W. and her husband Andrew
Scott, Titus, and Scott's wife Lisa
hollismb, Mary, Andrew, and half of me
mingaling
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1.13.2005 | Locked Out
I swear I grabbed my key card on the way out this morning, but I can't find it anywhere. I'm locked out of my drawer. The office is open, but I can't go to the bathroom and get back in without it. Grrrrrrreat.
mingaling
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1.12.2005 | It's Her Party
My mom has a very bad habit of making all things about her. The sibling just called, upset at mom for doing this yet again.
My sister's birthday is this weekend, and in our family it is traditional to go out because NO ONE should cook or do dishes on a birthday. And, in the realm of tradition, it happens that mom chooses wherever we go, despite the birthday girl's wishes. This wouldn't be such a bad thing if my mom's favorite restaurants didn't include every bad chain restaurant known to man (Red Lobster, Olive Garden, etc.). I remember one fateful year when I refused to go to one of those and instead opted for a small, quaint Japanese restaurant. During the entire meal, I was subjected to comments like "this isn't very flavorful" and "next time we'll do Chinese" and "that wasn't worth the trip." Gotta love her.
Yes, it's a small thing to get upset over, but when it happens every year (22 in her case) it grates.on.your.nerves. I told her the best way to get around this is to basically give her no choice. Give her a time and place and that's that. She'll pout and complain, but we're all quite used to it.
Cruel?
mingaling
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1.10.2005 | 366 days later
Looking back, it all seems so unreal. Met a boy, fell in love, and we've been together ever since. He says, "I am honestly happier than I've ever been before."
We've talked every.single.day for a year. A great year. The first of many.
mingaling
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1.08.2005 | Throwdown
I'm hosting a little shindig for bloggers on Thursday night at the Righteous Room.
If you're in the Atlanta area, let me know - I'll send you the evite.
mingaling
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1.05.2005 | Back to Your Regularly Scheduled Programming
The boy: "La la la la la!"
The girl: "Mmmphh... snort... wha? Me sleepy..."
The boy: "Today is the best tv day of all time!"
The girl: "Wah?"
The boy: "Lost and Alias! Tonight! For hours!"
mingaling
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1.03.2005 | Something I've Discovered
Wearing fishnets & boots to work is guaranteed to put you in a good mood.
mingaling
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12.30.2004 | Review
2003 was certainly a suck year. I got divorced, I owed the IRS, and I was just plain thrown into limbo. My sense of self was shaken, stirred, and repeated until there was very little left. Looking back, I remember the resolutions I made for 2004:
1. Move into new apartment and love it even if it's the size of my current closet
Well, this obviously didn't happen as you can tell. I moved into a new apartment much bigger than my closet, with the boy, and I love it. Eh, close enough.
2. Call mom & sibling once a week
I do talk to my sister at least once a week. Mom? Notsomuch.
3. Pay off chunk of debt & save money
Part one has been in steady, but great, progress. Part two is still waiting to happen.
4. Follow the Benrik book daily as much as possible without arrest, deportation, etc.
D gave me the Benrik book, which is great fun, but I have not been keeping up with it.
5. Keep in better touch with friends
I suck at this. You know who you are - sorry.
6. Ignore stupid boys
Done.
7. Use knowledge of differences between wants and needs
Ditto.
8. Stop worrying about things I cannot change
A trifecta!
9. Stop chewing cuticles when worrying
Ummm...
10. Run with dog
"Walk" is more like it.
11. Understand that I can't always be perfect and actually believe it
12. Know that others can't be perfect and live with it
13. Ask for help when I need it
These three have seriously changed my life.
14. Show up for church more than once a year
I've gone at least 3 times since I moved to Atlanta.
15. Make lesson plans before day of lessons
16. Get back into volunteering regularly
Okay, these two go together for a reason. I no longer teach, therefore #15 is moot. Instead of teaching, I run a volunteer program and volunteer regularly outside of work. So that works, right?
All in all, 11 out of 16 isn't bad. This year I don't have many resolutions. Yeah, I'd like to lose a few extra pounds before I even think of putting on a bathing suit again, I'd love to get a new job, but 2004 has been an excellent year thus far... and I think 2005 will be even better.
mingaling
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12.27.2004 | Awwww
To the poor dear who googled "what is emotionally unavailable? is my boyfriend emotionally unavailable?" and found this site:
I'm sorry. Send me a note, and we'll chat.
mingaling
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12.25.2004 | Merry Jebusmas
Baby Jebus and the little holy people wish you a happy holiday!
mingaling
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12.24.2004 | Yeah, she's that good
Mmm... pie....
mingaling
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12.23.2004 | Just One of the Many Reasons I Love Him
To: the girl
From: the boy
Subject: Speaking of interesting...
You should see what came out of my nose this morning.
I flushed it out, as per usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then I took a shower and could feel a little something stuffing up my right nostril. So I blew for a while. Nothing. Left it alone. Blew a little bit more. Still nothing. I was beginning to think that it was my imagination. Then I blew one more time. Whammo! Forget you and your little snot rockets. This thing was a freaking snot patriot missile, and the shower floor was Baghdad. That thing flew out of my nose with an alarming velocity and slammed into the shower. I think it left a dent. Anywho, I (being the curious type) picked it up and examined it for a while. It was very similar to some of the things that came out of my nose in weeks past. Basically, it was a mucous-covered blood clot, probably a leftover from my emergency operation over Thanksgiving. But instead of being kind of roundish, it was really long. My nose felt instant relief. I wish you had been there to share the joy with me, but instead, I had to dance around in the nude with the dogs.
Do you still love me, or was that too much?
mingaling
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12.22.2004 | Very, Very Good
Today is the last day of work before an 11-day vacation. The office is quiet as most folks are off or doing projects elsewhere. I have to interview someone, but other than that it will be a quiet day. I love the quiet of the office - the lack of hustle, quiet tapping of keys, and no phone calls. In fact, I can't remember where I left my work cell. Feh.
The next few days will be ones of sleeping in, baking pies from scratch, and family festivities. The cold outside will be tempered by the candles lit inside, with warm stews made by the boy, and the feeling that all is very, very good.
mingaling
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12.21.2004 | These Threes
Borrowed from Joelle.
Three Things You Like About Yourself:
1. I'm a genius
2. my wit
3. my general pissy-ness
Three Things You Dislike About Yourself:
1. my eyebrows
2. my lactose intolerance
3. my general pissy-ness
Three Parts of Your Heritage:
1. Chinese
2. Irish
3. German
Three Things That Scare You:
1. debt
2. being alone
3. loved ones dying
Three of Your Everyday Essentials
1. The boy
2. lip balm
3. beer
Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. black sweater/ white dress shirt underneath
2. jeans
3. black high heeled boots
Three of Your Favorite Bands/Artists (at the moment):
1. Bright Eyes
2. Arcade Fire
3. Death Cab for Cutie
Three of Your Favorite Songs at Present:
1. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas - Coldplay
2. Title and Registration - Death Cab for Cutie
3. Starman - Seu Jorge
Three New Things You Want to Try in the Next 12 Months:
1. Cross stitching
2. Clear Lens Extraction And Replacement (CLEAR)
3. Make and keep plans with people.
Three Things You Just Can't Do:
1. Stop drinking
2. Excercise regularly
3. Keep plants alive
Three Things You Want to do Really Badly Right Now:
1. Get a new job
2. Get a pedicure
3. Eat
Three Places You Want to Go on Vacation:
1. Munich
2. Taiwan
3. Maui
Three Things You Want to Do Before You Die:
1. Marry the boy
2. Have children
3. Get my PhD
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12.20.2004 | I know you're sick of these, but seriously
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12.16.2004 | Welcome to the Jungle
I always thought it was:
Welcome to the jungle
It gets worser every day
This provided years of hilarity and entertainment, but then the boy corrected me last night.
The world is just not the same.
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12.15.2004 | Benchmarks
Put up tree and decorate
Order and mail cards
Order gifts for the boy, mom, sister, brother-in-law, cousins
Wrap and mail gifts
Stuff stockings
Buy champagne
Drink heavily
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12.14.2004 | Baby It's Cold Outside
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12.12.2004 | Winter In Georgia
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12.08.2004 | Surprise
How to turn your girlfriend's very-bad-horrible-no-good-day into a supercalafragilisticexpealidocious kind of day? Just send her this:
To: The girl
From: The boy
Subject: You've been invited to...
. . . to a super-double-top-secret event on Friday night. Don't even bother asking me what it is, because I'm not telling. Seriously.
We need to leave the house no later than 7:30. Look pretty, like you always do.
I love you,
-A.
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12.07.2004 | Love Hate Thing
Reason I hate her:
She can reach the top of the kitchen counter - she stole our dinner for herself and the other beast. At least she shares.
Reason I hate her even more:
Coming home to find the entire recycling bin strewn across the living room floor. Who chews on coke cans and beer bottles?
Reason I will always love her:
She pulled the boy's boxers ALL THE WAY DOWN while he was standing in the living room. And I didn't have to train her.
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12.06.2004 | Diversified
I recently met with a financial planner from a well known company after much prodding from a coworker. The only reasons I actually went was 1) I felt guilty after the free lunch and 2) I couldn't avoid the guy's calls at work any longer.
I drove out to his fancy pants office in Buckhead, but not before I hit Target for some necessary items (yes, dog reindeer antlers ARE necessary). We sat in a corporate meeting room and proceeded to talk about all the things I should be thinking about but am not currently: investments, retirement, and insurance. Soon enough, I felt my eyeballs roll into the back of my head while I was being scolded (pleasantly enough, though) for not having a gazillion dollars in insurance for myself and yet-to-be-concieved offspring and not having a plan to accumulate wealth.
Accumulate wealth. I'm sorry, but what's that? I explained to him that I'm in super-debt-paying mode and that every dollar that doesn't go into food, booze, or bills goes toward reducing this debt. Every.single.dollar. He obviously didn't believe me because he gave me the story I've heard, oh, about a million times about how I could invest $100 now and be a millionaire in just 40 years. I persisted with my debt reduction tale and how I'd rather get rid of it with the looming 18% interest over making contributions to something I can't touch until my liver starts hurting. In the end, I asked for the bottom line which was $400 for him to "plan my financial future."
Needless to say, I was out of there. It wasn't all a waste - I did take his advice to diversify my 403(b) investments. I went home, told the boy, and we did it in 15 minutes online. Apparently having an MBA in real estate/finance means he knows a thing or two about this stuff - imagine that! In two weeks, I've made about $150+ that I still can't touch until I retire. We also just invested in the first step of our real estate empire. Not bad for the girl who still can't do math in her head.
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12.02.2004 | There are days when I hate my job...
... but today wasn't one of them.
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11.30.2004 | "I never forget about a pussy... cat."
The boy and I were, um, frolicking one evening as my libido seems to have skyrocketed in the last month or so. We were doing the regular, much applauded moves when...
meeeeooooowww!
I thought I heard something, but was only distracted for a millisecond and laid back and let the boy do his magic when...
we don't gnaw on our kitty.
Maggie had discovered Sam's Mr. Bigglesworth.
Muahahahahahaha!
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11.29.2004 | Sugar Season
In the spirit of making everyone gain as much weight as I do, here's another one for you:
Easy Tiramisu
3 egg yolks
1/4 cup white sugar
2 tsps vanilla extract
1 & 1/8 cups mascarpone cheese
24 ladyfingers
1 & 1/2 cups strong brewed coffee
1 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
In a medium bowl, beat yolks with sugar and vanilla until smooth and light yellow. Fold mascarpone into yolk mixture. Set aside. Dip ladyfingers briefly in coffee and arrange 12 of them in the bottom of an 8x8 inch dish. Spread half the mascarpone mixture over the ladyfingers. Repeat with remaining cookies and mascarpone. Cover and chill 1 hour. Sprinkle with cocoa just before serving. Serves 6.
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11.28.2004 | Blood On the Walls: A Thanksgiving Story
It took about 2 hours to get out of the city on Wednesday, and another 6 to get to Orlando. The rich golds and reds of the landscape soon turned to the everpresent greens and palms of Florida. Mom surprised me with a new matress in the guest room, and my spine thanked her profusely.
Thursday morning the phone rang - it was the boy's mom. He had some complications from his surgery - a blood vessel burst and he lost about 3 liters of blood. 3 liters from my bathroom to the kitchen. He called 911, but went into shock on the way. They had to cauterize something in his nose (which apparently is like soldering body parts - lovely!). She didn't want me to come home yet, as he looked like he'd be fine. After entirely too many hours, he was finally able to utter an "I'm okay" on the phone and I felt somewhat better. His mom really is Supermom, so he was in the best of hands.
Words cannot express how thankful I am that the boy is okay and that the gods let me have him for just a little longer. On the drive back to our apartment, I saw the warmth of the reds and golds and looked forward to the comfort of home.
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11.24.2004 | Gobble Gobble
I'm off to see Team Whackadoodle in Orlando for Turkey Day.
See y'all when I return.
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11.23.2004 | Christmas Is For Bitches
So add me to the queer list that I never thought I'd be on: I put up our christmas tree. Yes, on November 22nd.
I would suppose it's a psychological reaction to ignoring the present unhappiness in my job and projecting it onto something else that's generally pleasant and that I'm more excited about. It will also be my first christmas with the boy, in our new home, and with a new family. Pretty schmoopy stuff. I bought some trinkets and ribbon to put on the tree, as well as some cute little dog ornaments (a pair of goldens for Sam and a pair of black mutts for Maggie, naturally). A little sprig of holly berries is serving as the tree topper this year. I'm quite pleased with the whole shebang, despite the fact that it all hangs on a 5 foot tree that came out of a box from my mom. Details.
So, all was well until the boy called this morning to report an incident with the tree. It seems that Maggie was displeased with my display and proceeded to carefully pull off each of the little black dog ornaments without disturbing anything else on the tree, especially the precariously twisted ribbons. She then went ahead and ate off their legs.
Hmmph.
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11.22.2004 | He'll Make A Good Wife
I had a horrible dream last night. It involved the boy and two men, Raoul and Hermano. Or, should I say, they were involved together. Graphically involved. Ansley Mall LA Fitness grapically involved. Need I say more? ::shudder::
So yes, I was a wee bit worried when I awoke to find my happily hetero boy beside me declaring it "crock-pot" day. But it was deelish. While I went to the Church of the Ex-hippies With Mullets in L5P, he grocery-shopped and prepared and even remembered to buy beer yesterday since this stupid state doesn't sell it on Sunday WHEN EVERYONE SHOULD DRINK.
He did a damn fine job, too. You'll love it.
Sausage & Black Bean Soup
12 oz. chorizo
2 14oz cans chicken broth
1 15oz can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 14.5 oz can golden hominy, rinsed and drained
1 14.5 oz can Mexican style stewed tomatoes, cut up
1 cup frozen loose diced hash browns
1 small green pepper, chopped
1 small onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp. oregano, crushed
1/2 tsp. chili powder
Brown sausage in pan, break into small pieces, drain. Place in slow cooker. Add other ingredients. Cover; cook on low for 4-5 hours (high for 2-2 1/2). Serves 6.
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11.20.2004 | Laughing
I'm the #13 google for "did Hitler wear glasses."
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11.19.2004 | Score
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11.18.2004 | Speaking of Spiritual Death
Have you ever cared so much it hurt? How about caring so much about a problem and knowing exactly how to fix it, say how to fix it, OFFER to fix it, but be completely ignored?
Then the frustration sets in. Knowing it could be better, wanting it to be better, and being reminded of both every minute of the day. Knowing things could be better not only for yourself but everyone else that you supposedly serve. Everyone you deal with is affected by the same problem, sometimes in worse ways, that you warned them would happen. The proactive gets completely ignored and the reactive is our fault because they can't remember that they ignored us in the first place (or was I supposed to take note of that, too?).
It hurts and frustrates too much to be able to come in every day caring, so you.just.stop. You can't allow yourself to care anymore because everyone brings up the same, exact, fixable problem that you know the answer to but falls upon silent ears.
I used to care about not-caring, but not anymore.
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11.16.2004 | Insomnia
I couldn't sleep very well last night, but it turned out to be an educational endeavor. I am proud to announce that I now know the following:
- "insurgents" booby-trap corpses
- Margaret Hassan was an Iraqi citizen
- anacondas produce eggs, but they hatch inside, producing live offspring
- eggs that do not hatch are also expunged
- number of babies range from 20-100 per birth
- they can hold their breath for 20 minutes underwater
- they swim fast, but tire quickly
Can you tell I got bored with the news?
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11.11.2004 | Priceless
My day is a thousand times better after using the Ali G translator with the CNN website and getting this headline: "bitch pleads guilty to dumping bitch's body in trash."
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11.09.2004 | Candy Striper
I've been nursing the boy back to health. He had a septoplasty and turbinate reduction (also known as scary nose surgery and bloody gooey ooze seeping out post-op.). This was to relieve his deviated septum and sinus issues. I'm surprised he waited this long. Can you imagine not being able to breathe through 60% of your nose?
So he's bed bound for the next few days, sleeping upright and next to a humidifier, and I get to be the boss of him. Really. It's in writing.
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11.05.2004 | And I almost forgot...
Happy birthday blog!
* and special thanks to hollismb for fixing my CSS issues.
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11.04.2004 | The Gods Smiled Upon Me
The girls at work introduced me to some secret, out-of-the-way outlet store today. At first I was less than enthralled. I mean, granted, there were really, really good buys on clothing. Especially suits, coats, and blouses, but I didn't need or want any of those. However, while they were browsing, I wandered off to the back of the store and ran into the shoe department.
Sweet Jesus. There were shoes IN MY SIZE. Like really real, live shoes in front of me that I could actually put on my feet. No catalogs, no internet... real size 11's. I pranced around happily in several pairs and couldn't believe the divine experience I was enjoying. Needless to say, I figured the experience deserved to snag its own souvenir along with a new pair of fishnets (because everyone needs a new pair of fishnets, right?).
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11.03.2004 | Anticipation
We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway...
Last night was all about anticipation. We huddled around a table at McRay's in Midtown, giddily reacting to the red and blue blocks appearing on the maps on the screens above us. We laughed at the ridiculousness of Democracy Plaza's ice map. The map steadily got redder and redder, but the big states hadn't returned their results yet. It got late, and the results were still mixed. We went to bed, tired but still giddy with excitement. It was like Christmas eve... the waiting, the excitement, the wonder, the expectations...
We hardly slept, taking turns to creep out of bed to sneak a peek at the news. 7, 8, 9, 10am... the news became harder to take. "What? How? Why?" rang through our thoughts as our mouths hung agape. I was reminded of the mess of four years ago, having cast my ballot for Gore in Florida. The mess that ensued afterwards was awful, but I still had hope. Hope that this new leader would lead with conviction, yet incorporate all the voices of his country in that leadership. Now, four years later, that hope of the unexpected has turned into fear of the continuation of the decimation of civil rights and liberties in exchange for a platform of "moral values" and fearmongering that is not clearly defined by any half the country.
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Yet further evidence of what is wrong with the Land of the "Free."
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11.02.2004 | Did You?
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11.01.2004 | A-Choo!
So, if I shove these up my nose will I become less sick?
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10.31.2004 | Afflicted
There are many things in the realm of suckyness about having a full-blown cold. There's the snot, the crying, the aches, the whining, the "baby, if you really loved me you'd get me a (fill in the blank)s." But the worst thing is the complete and total absence of brain power. Anything I could certifiably count on knowing a mere 2 days ago has completely vanished.
So when I saw Lady Crumpet's pic from East Atlanta, I giggled and tried to explain this to the boy:
"You know, it's that show."
"The one with the fries, and the shake, and the meatball."
"Who like to play on the internet."
"And the hairy neighbor guy."
"You, know, that show!"
"Why can't you read my mind and tell me what I'm trying to tell you!"
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10.28.2004 | Still Fawning Over Johnny Damon
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10.26.2004 | Deutsch Lektion des Tages
I'm learning German. TRYING to learn, actually. I realized that I needed to learn some German while researching for my master's thesis. Eventually I picked up a few terms here and there, but nothing substantial. Although many disagree, I think it's a beautiful language that actually has a lot of similarities to English. The boy, however, tries to keep away from me spitting on him when I say, "Ich liebe dicht, mein schatz!"
I'm still a self-described non-language learner, which I could probably blame on poor math skills as well. I feel like I'm genetically predisposed to be unable to learn languages. While in high school I took Latin. Not because I wanted to be a doctor, not because I wanted better SAT scores, but because I didn't have to speak it. We sat there and translated Cicero all day. We celebrated Saturnalia and had toga days and made food with honey, wine, and pine nuts AT SCHOOL. I was never happier.
In college I switched to Chinese only because I thought a) it's a heritage thing and b) my mom can help me. Genius! Well, turns out that I could only get so far with my 1st grade Mandarin and an extensive list of curse words. And, of course, my mom scoffed at the idea that I would need help. I wondered if it was because she actually had faith that I could do the work, or whether she thought it to be karmic retribution for me skipping Chinese school when I was a kid until she finally let me quit. My boyfriend at the time, a tall, lanky white boy from Tennessee, took Chinese with me only because I did and got a better grade. And that's after Dr. Lee took pity on me for being a half-breed.
So now I start my mornings with Learning German instead of NPR (thankfully coinciding with their pledge drive) and doing lessons complete with worksheets online. It's kind of fun doing it in my spare time, but I'm not sure it will be as effective as going to a traditional classroom. The Goethe Institut is apparently serving as my backup.
Oh, and today's Wort de tages (word of the day) is die Rhabarbermarmelade. Whee!
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10.22.2004 | Club BP
One of the hottest nightspots in town isn't a club, restaurant, or underground S&M joint. It's a gas station/ convenience store at the corner of North and Spring.
On any given evening you can witness either an NFL or MLB player, the latest rock band coming through town, a slew of bikers, or the newest and hottest rappers stop in and grab a Red Bull or a pack of smokes. In fact, this place is so packed all the time that there's full-time security on staff to ward off non-customers of the celebrity-seeking variety. I've personally seen folks like Usher, Andre 3000, and ATL's favorite bad boy, Bobby Brown (in between arrests).
But the most exciting thing there for me? They have my bank's ATM. Right before I hit the interstate. No service fees!
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10.21.2004 | There is Hope
This morning I expected the sky to be green and the grass to be blue. I expected the dog to mew. I expected to be excited to go to work. I did not expect to be this hungover.
Because THE RED SOX WON.
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10.20.2004 | Do That Conga
You've got to love a man who will listen to you sing EVERY SINGLE WORD of Conga spurred on by the statement, "Come on, baby, go to sleep."
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10.19.2004 | We Got The Beat
The boy is on a fitness kick, and apparently I'm along for the ride. He called to tell me that he got both of us memberships at one of those little boutique gyms in town. Um, "us"? Did I really forget to mention to him that my idea of strength training is lifting a beer to my lips?
He drove, which was a smart move since it would be quite a trek to escape on foot. Once we were inside I noticed that there were, oh, two other women and the place was packed with men. Beautiful, stylish, and very very big gay men. Very promising! We took a tour of the facilities and of course there was no pool, the only excercise besides you know what that I don't mind. The boy and I got started on upper-body weights, but I got bored and wandered to the lower-body weights, realized I missed the start of the abs class (darn), and ended up in the cardio room.
Since it is a gym and all, there were the ubiquitous mirrors and blaring music that surround you. Oh Mickey You're So Fine and We Got the Beat kept my toes tapping, or at least kept me from falling onto the floor. I did a mile on the treadmill and then it was time for the Precor. Damn you, you vile piece of metal and your tantalizing promises of firmer glutes. After 20 minutes, I was spent.
And he wants to do it all over again... tomorrow.
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10.18.2004 | Novelty
Smitten pointed out a handwriting analysis website, and, naturally, I couldn't resist.
One way Lori punishes herself is self directed sarcasm. She is a very sarcastic person. Often this sarcasm and "sharp tongued" behavior is directed at herself.
Hmmm... ya think?
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10.15.2004 | Brrr!
Highs in the mid-50's?
Jesus, I didn't move that far north.
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10.14.2004 | Cake
Although everybody else got to go see the show that sold out in 4 seconds, we still had fun. the boy and I went to see Cake at the Tabernacle.
The boy is a bit of a Cake groupie as this was his eighth Cake show. Well worth it, though, because they were great. They played some old favorites like Stickshifts & Safetybelts, and happily avoided playing the very overplayed shirt/jacket song in which we shall never refer to again.
Their opening act? Notsogreat.
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10.13.2004 | Bargain
Dear Ruler(s) of the Universe:
While musing on how I would spend my millions once I became independently wealthy, it hit me: I don't need all of it.
In fact, I would only need approximately $12,472.38. With that, my debt, loans, and other crap would be paid off and I'd be happy as a clam. I'm really not that greedy. I live within my means. I'm not going to quit my job, buy an island, or booze my way through life. I'm a good person, am kind to children and animals, and do a lot of volunteer work. And I'm sure there are a bunch of people who would behave just like me. Why give a $10 million jackpot to just one individual when you could split it between several of us debt-ridden folks and spread the joy evenly?
Just a thought.
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10.12.2004 | My Rack
You can try to identify my rack (and the girls') at HG's site.
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10.07.2004 | Convention
- 23 smart and pretty girls from across the country (HG, Martha, & all your favorites)
- 5 hotel suites and 1 house
- Planes, trains, and automobiles
- Fully stocked bars
- Potential drunk dials
- Ass-grabbing galore
- One logistical plan
- My kind of town
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10.06.2004 | "Baby? I Broke the Dog."
"Baby?"
"Hey babe!"
sniff...
"What's wrong?"
"I..." sobbing
"Sweety?"
"Sam and I were playing, and she's limping, and..."
"What?"
"I BROKE THE DOG!"
We were just playing her favorite game of frisbee. It was a clear, sunny day and we were having fun in the backyard. I threw the disc low, causing her to lunge toward it instead of jumping and she returned with a limp. Not that this hasn't happened before, mind you, because she's a badass dog who's had many years of tough x-frisbee smackdowns.
Yet the badass returned with a slight limp, causing me to worry somewhat (i.e.: Mommy started whimpering and tried to figure out how to carry all 75 lbs. of fur back up the porch). She was still putting weight on it, so I consulted the boy and we decided to just wait and see. She's such a sweetheart, too, that when we felt around her paw she didn't even wince or pull away, even while she was thinking Bitch, I'm going to fuck your shit up when I'm better. We noticed the next day that it was swollen and she wouldn't put any weight on it.
Now she has a bright red splint (they didn't have pink), signed "Love, Mom" on it. And lots and lots of painkillers. Just like Mom.
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10.05.2004 | More Mo
On what Mo thought the Vice Presidential debate would consist of:
John Edwards sounding very prosecutorial and well spoken, and Dick Cheney reaching across the podium and eating him... whole.
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10.04.2004 | Me and Mo
Mo Rocca, my favorite media darling, is coming to town tomorrow night to talk about his book, the Daily Show, and generally make fun of public figures.
Trying not to wet my pants.
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10.03.2004 | Dirty Girl
Work had invaded every ounce of my personal time for the last week. After the finale of the big event, and much beer and tequila with the lovely Miss J, I topped off the night with a quiet dinner with the boy, friends, and their snoozy newborn.
Waking up this morning, however, was quite a surprise. The place was a pit of filth! Laundry had been haphazardly thrown around the bedroom, crumbs and sticky counters in the kitchen, dog hair everywhere, and there was much evidence of hurried mornings in my bathroom. Even though we do have separate bathrooms, nothing else seemed to affect the boy whatsoever. We walked to Whole Foods, had a relaxing breakfast, and snooped around the bookstore. I exiled the boy to golfing, got down and dirty and back to business once we got home. I scrubbed, laundered, and swiffered until some semblance of normalcy returned.
Once the house was clean, I ran down to the carwash since I'd been hauling around project supplies and landscape materials for days. And you know your car is really dirty when the carwash guy offers to pay for it.
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9.26.2004 | Fuzzy Math
Why is it that a $50 haircut turns into $100+ when one realizes that she cannot in any way whatsoever recreate said haircut without purchasing things like this and that?
ps. I only burned my forehead once.
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9.21.2004 | If I'm Not Back in 72 Hours...
I don't even have the heart to tell you where I'll be.
Let's just say there's no internet access, I have to bring bug repellent, and there will be a hell of a lot of "teambuilding."
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9.20.2004 | More Fun With Search Terms
How you can google your way to this site:
- "do I invite the exgirlfriend to the wedding"
- "black pantyhose in september"
- "lyrics the sanctuary"
- "hiding spot in bedroom"
- "monchichi wallpaper"
- "tabletop bookshelf woodwork"
- "throbbing on right side of head"
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9.18.2004 | Hee
I should probably have been worried or maybe a bit concerned instead of laughing.
Especially when the boy jumps into the shower and starts yelling, "Hot, ooh, ooh, hot!"
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9.15.2004 | Missing
I miss my sexy, funny boss.
I printed the picture you sent me, and now it's up on the side of the
bookshelf that faces my desk... so I can look up from my computer
monitor at you, as though you're walking up to my desk to tell me to
stop working and go have drinks with you.
Sadness.
xo,
D
I was just thinking to myself that I wish there was someone here who would think, "work is dumb; let's get a drink." I miss it, too.
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9.13.2004 | Loot
- The mixer
- The maker
- The spa
- The dress
- Checks
- New York
- The biggest Target gift card in the entire world
Totally spoiled.
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9.09.2004 | Nice Day for a White Wedding
No time for a birthday recap, kiddies. But I must say that a "bottomless glass" of wine has me questioning whether or not that's a good idea (thanks for the tip, hollismb).
Off to the Big Apple for a wedding weekend. See y'all when I return.
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9.07.2004 | True Love
You know it's right when you come home, declare Pajama Day, experiment with new recipes, watch The Karate Kid, and talk about poop.
True Love.
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9.06.2004 | Spam Sandwiches
It doesn't really seem fair, I guess.
I was there a little more than a month ago. I would have been there through Charley and Frances. I would have had to cancel plans, board up windows, and close up work. I would have had to sit through the powerless days and nights, wait in line for gas (if there was any left), and deal with the cleanup.
I told them all to come up here. Instead, my sister had grilled Spam sandwiches. But her house is okay, and my mom had zero damage. My uncle and family stayed at a shelter. They're all fine.
"Thank the boy for getting you out of here in time," said mom. "Mom, don't be so melodramatic."
But I did.
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9.04.2004 | Date Night
The boy and I had no real plans. We figured we'd grab a bite and maybe a flick, then we realized what we really wanted to do.
We had a ridiculously decadent meal and dared to show up on a Friday night without a reservation.
We commenced with the Air Hockey Challenge Extraordinaire, at which the boy commenced whooping my ass 2 out of 3 times. I also won the distinction of receiving the first air hockey injury recorded at the Highlander through some not-so-stealth air hockey moves:
We then strolled (I hobbled) over to the theater, shoe full of blood, and dulled my pain with laughter throughout the movie and mixing 7 from a water bottle with diet cokes.
Yeah, just another night.
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9.03.2004 | Thief
My mom sent me a UPS package with some magazines and mail that had apparently gotten around the USPS forwarding sticker situation. When speaking to her last night, she gave me the tracking number since it seemed like it had been a bit too long since she sent it.
Status: Delivered.
Fuck.
Our mail is usually delivered in a central location on the front porch, while packages are usually delivered to our respective doors. Our apartment is at the back of the house. We've received other packages just fine. Now what?
UPDATE: According to UPS, it was delivered to the wrong apartment number. Apparently my mother still cannot figure out where I live. I went up there, but the box was nowhere to be seen. The resident was not at home. I shall leave a note, and then we'll see. Just a note: she's a weird one, and that's just from seeing the place from the sidewalk.
mingaling
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8.31.2004 | Go. NOW.
Do not be another one to tell me you haven't.
Go see Garden State. Go. Now.
mingaling
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8.30.2004 | Material Geek
What does one say to "what do you want for your birthday?"
I mean, I know I have all year to think about it. I even have an amazon.com wishlist on standby for such events. But, of course, when I went to update it I ended up taking more items off the list than adding.
I could probably think of a few things that I would like, but don't necessarily need... that's what gifts are for, right? But really glorious things would be a week off, uninterrupted sleep, or a quiet day in the office, a massage... or maybe getting the dog groomed and a Georgia tag?
Toys I could definitely live without, but want anyway:
Apple mini-iPod (pink, of course)
New digital camera
Kitchenaid Mixer in Caviar
mingaling
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8.29.2004 | Stages of a Migraine
Last night I attended a birthday soiree for a co-worker. After a mere hour or so, I had to excuse myself in a meek way to the birthday girl. "Migraine," I said. Sixteen hours later, it's still throbbing. I haven't been lucky enough to know what triggers them as there never seems to be a correlating factor, but the results of one occur like clockwork.
Step One: Dull Pain
It's pretty much like any headache, except it usually takes place on the right side of my head. A dull, throbbing thumping type pain. The repetition drives me crazy.
Step Two: Nausea
The thought of smell, taste, or even breathing makes me nauseous at this point. Dry heaving occurs.
Step Three: Bright Light!
Any light instantly blinds me and sends a searing pain to the right side of my head. You can usually find me under several pillows.
Step Four: The Shut Up Stage
Noise or voices will cause me to scream at you (ironic, isn't it?) and tell you to leave me alone. NOW. I then turn on the white noise machine.
Step Five: Crying
At this stage I threaten the lives of anyone near me unless they lop my head off and toss it out the window, including the dog. Did this surprise you?
After about 24 hours, utter darkness, cold compresses, 2 diet cokes, and meds that cost $6 a pill with insurance, all is better. For now.
mingaling
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8.26.2004 | This is totally going on my desktop
mingaling
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8.25.2004 | There's a Whole World Out There
Today was a mass conglomeration of being attacked from all angles of my cube. Phone calls, messages, and emails. People coming to me with problems but no solutions. A doctor's appointment (nothing big - except my face) and traffic jams. Thunder, lightning, and sheets of rain. I turned the DND on the phone at ten to six. The cell phone was powered off. The rain cleared, and I left... dead tired.
But when I got home the sun broke through brighter than it had been all day. I took the furbeast and went outside. At first we were going to just walk around the block. Yet, we kept walking. We walked to the plaza on the corner and ordered dinner. We kept walking across the street to the park. We walked further to the leash-free section and she frolicked with the other furbeasts. Then, both tired but supremely happy, we walked back, picked up our dinners (she gets the tomatoes) and headed home.
And all was good.
mingaling
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8.21.2004 | How the Other Half Live
Not that I don't know that I'm poor already, but this weekend held another sweet reminder of this fact.
The boy had a business trip. Yes, the poor dear had to play 2 rounds of golf, eat dinner, play poker, and drink a lot, then retire to his private cottage. Bastard.
One of the boy's sisters (he has 3 - so hard to keep up with) was in town for her birthday. We had dinner at the very chi-chi exclusive club where his stepdad is a member. This isn't your typical Caddyshack country club, but a rather well-heeled one with extensive grounds and even nap rooms in the men's quarters. I felt as if I'd gotten away without having my credit checked before stepping into the sweeping doors of the main club. Oh, and they just let women in. Seriously.
The following day, his mother asked us to join them for church. They are Methodist, and I agreed with some reserve (and the boy did, too, after much kicking and screaming). It wasn't too bad - more like a Catholic "lite." There wasn't the crucified Jesus above the altar that I was all too familiar with in my youth, but the hymns that constantly referred to "his bleeding side" seemed to make up for it. Afterwards we went around the corner to the Ritz, where sister's boyfriend & mother were staying, and had ourselves a little brunch.
OH GOOD GOD.
We all know my love of food. This, however, validates the fact that I could live off of champagne, oysters, and caviar if need be. And ahi. And sushi. And flowing fountains of chocolate. Yes, if ever need be...
mingaling
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8.19.2004 | Fixer Upper
When I looked at the horrific photographic evidence of my trip to the DMV I couldn't believe that I looked quite that bad. Yet when I got back to work and looked in the mirror I saw that, indeed, I did.
As if work hasn't already taken a serious toll on my mental health, my physical appearance seems to have taken a downward slide as well.
- My eyes are bloodshot and itchy, with or without contacts.
- My hair is a bit too long and stringy. Split ends galore.
- My skin is pale and I keep breaking out. Not just little ones, but the really hard ones that hurt. Fuckers.
- My nails are gross, but then again that's not new.
- I have a canker sore which has caused my lips to chap. Ouch.
There's a lot of work to be done this weekend. Hopefully, with the assistance of these two folks, I can regain some semblance of my old self. Or maybe (for the better) not.
mingaling
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8.18.2004 | 3 1/2 Hours Later
...I realized I had walked into hell and back.
mingaling
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8.17.2004 | Full Service
It's safe to say that time has not been plentiful around here lately.
Today was the first day I've barely been able to say that my head is just slightly above water at the new job. I actually got to eat the lunch from PF Chang's (courtesy of the boy), make the necessary phone calls, and organize the massive amounts of data I've collected in only two weeks - la phew. That, and organize our girls only post-work fiesta on Friday evening. Priorities, you know.
So when I realized that it had been a serious oversight since my last oil change, I was thrilled to find this place around the corner. Car wash and oil change in less than 20 minutes? Free internet access to update my much neglected blog? Starbucks? And yes, despite the horrific southwestern theme and way too much terra cotta going on, I have declared my love for the place.
Good lord.
mingaling
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8.13.2004 | Charley
My cousins have been evacuated from South Florida and are staying in Orlando near my mom. Schools are closed, stores have been wiped out, and plywood shuttered buildings line the street.
While my family is bracing for the storm to hit this afternoon, I awoke to the most glorious morning. It was crisp and 58 F, and it should get no higher than 77 F today.
mingaling
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8.09.2004 | Sicko
To the person who found this site under "Asian girl" and "plastered":
Yuck.
mingaling
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8.08.2004 | Leftovers
In the mass chaos of unpacking this weekend, I came upon a few leftovers. There was a program for my wedding to the x, some old notes from former flames, and pictures of those I no longer speak to - the dust covered evidence of a life that seems so long ago.
But what wasn't expected were the old memories of the boy's life. I came across a file folder containing hundreds of emails between him and whatsherface. I had never seen her picture until finding photos of her, the one who broke his heart, still in boxes that had remained unpacked between moves for years.
At first I wasn't sure what to think. I made the effort, but I guess I didn't rid myself of all the reminders of my past, and the boy is now face to face with it every time I receive mail or am addressed by my former married name. However, I realize that I am glad to come across these reminders of how far we've come. Every relationship further defines us as individuals. In regards to his past, should whatsherface never had been so foolish as to choose not to be with the boy, I would have never met him... and that would be unforgivable.
mingaling
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8.06.2004 | To Save Me From 800 Emails
Yes, I like Atlanta quite much, thank you.
Yes, it has been stressful working 80 hours this week.
Yes, it was a glorious thing to see the washer & dryer delivered this morning.
Yes, there are more mosquitoes here than in Florida.
Yes, Aunt Cathy did pass away peacefully.
Yes, I do like breakfast in bed.
Yes, it's great that speed limit signs mean nothing here.
Yes, I do love meat and three's.
And no, I'm not finished unpacking.
mingaling
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8.04.2004 | Mt. Boxmore
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8.03.2004 | New Girl
Since I've started the new job I have:
- Worked from dawn until evening
- Been assigned a cubicle
- Spoken to a group of 200 people on topics I know nothing about
- Taken 2 days to actually find the bathroom
- Met the acquaintance of several prostitutes a few yards from the building
- Danced a jig at getting the best health insurance at the cheapest price
- Realized that taking 3 days to get network access blows
- Facilitated meetings on other topics I know nothing about
- Found that there's no way I can afford the $1 diet coke x 4 times a day vending machine habit that I just started
mingaling
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8.01.2004 | Atlanta Hasn't Killed Me
... but this whole moving thing just might. I just have to say that the boy has A LOT of stuff.
mingaling
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7.28.2004 | At Last
I just moved in with the boy I love.
mingaling
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7.25.2004 | Curiouser and Curiouser
You are The Cheshire Cat
A huge grin constantly plastered upon your face,
you never cease to amuse. You are completely
confusing and contradictory to most everyone.
What Alice in Wonderland Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
mingaling
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7.22.2004 | Excuses
Pardon me while I don't update for the next few days or so. It will be a crazy mad dash to finish work here then off to Atlanta. As only appropriate for me, I've managed to monopolize every minute of free time for my to do list:
- Fri: Closing ceremony for summer. Students check out. Work until 10 pm.
Sat: 5 AM flight to Atlanta. New job orientation at 11 AM. Sun: 12 PM flight to Orlando. Farewell party given by friends at 6 PM. - Mon: College Tour for old job. Driving 10 students to Tallahassee at 8 AM. Stay overnight.
- Tues: College Tour moves on to Gainesville. Drive back to Orlando at 7 PM. Pick up boy from airport at 10 PM.
- Wed: Pick up truck at 9 AM. Boy packs, while I'm off to last day of work. Boy meets me at work with truck and dog. Drive to Atlanta at 2 PM.
- Thur: Start new job.
- Sun: Move into apartment.
mingaling
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7.21.2004 | Sweet
I guess the boy is happy I got a job.
That, and he's keeping the florist employed as well.
mingaling
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7.21.2004 Poor Thing
I'm not sure I can handle being a mom.
Signed,
The girl who spent $213 to find out her dog has a tummy ache
mingaling
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7.20.2004 | Hot Damn
I start my new job on the 29th!
mingaling
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7.18.2004 | Asian Girl Survival Pack
My mother's sixth sense kicked in this morning and sensed the desperate financial state of affairs of late. She insisted that we have go get dim sum and shopping, to which I did not protest. I also forgot to mention that my mother either 1) does not believe there are any Asians in Atlanta or 2) I will never find them.
After a few hours, my mother suceeded in getting me the Asian Girl Survival Pack. This consisted of a brand-spankin' new stainless rice cooker and a case each of ramen shiyun and udon. Although very kind, I did turn down the 40 lb. bag of jasmine rice.
And she bought Sam a doggie bed. Sweet.
mingaling
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7.17.2004 | Lions, Tigers, and ... Dali
The field trip started off on a bad, bad note, mostly because I was awakened by a phone call for some information, which then made me glance at the clock to see I was waking up a mere 15 minutes before I had to be on campus on the OTHER SIDE OF TOWN. Frantic, I splashed some water on my face, threw a t-shirt and shorts on, and dashed out the door with my flip-flops in hand while the other chaperones stalled the kids on the bus. Oh, did I mention we had more people than we had money for admission? Yeah.
While heading down, the clouds began to pour and the bus driver apparently missed the 8,000 Dali Museum signs along the way. After finally arriving a good hour behind schedule, the docents accommodated my completely disinterested group of teenagers and shuffled them through the gallery. They finally began to perk up after realizing Dali wasn't just some "artist" but a bonafide freak - hooray! Want to get a moronic teenager to pay attention to an etching? Show them Hitler masturbating. After scads of glorious pieces that made me miss teaching humanities, I found a group of kids standing in awe of one of his larger pieces. It was working.
We headed up to Centro Ybor for lunch. The kiddies favored fast-food and shopping while D and I savored some Cuban fare. Then the highlight of the trip came when we visited Jessica's beloved sanctuary. The kids didn't really know what to expect aside from the info that I relayed and they quickly discarded as "stuff I don't really want to know right now because it might take the place of some lame rap lyrics." The sanctuary was amazing, and the work the volunteers do is even more so. The kids were in awe of the entire place (or at least for a good 15 minutes). It made a real impression on them, as they were outdoors, walking, and only complained a few times!
mingaling
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7.16.2004 | Rejected
I just found out that I didn't get the kick ass job I wanted at a certain university. It was basically down to myself and another candidate, and the other had a few more years on me. I was also turned down for another position at another college, but they've asked me to come and interview for another position.
It's hard not to feel somewhat pained at the thought that you don't fit into someone's "good enough" category, especially after what I thought was a fantastic interview. It truly seemed like a good fit to me, but apparently not to them. Despite telling myself over and over again that it wasn't personal, I can't help but wonder why it's taking so long to find something. The boy and friends keep telling me that something will turn up, but the pessimism stemming from the last few months is starting to eat at me.
mingaling
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7.15.2004 | My Holy Shit Moment
The little counter on the left side of the site says I have 14 days until The Move. 14 days. 336 hours. 20,160 minutes. Oh my god.
Of course I'm excited to go. Of course there is nothing that I've wanted more than to be reunited with the love of my life. But frankly, I am a little flustered at the moment.
- I have a grand total of $34.36 to live off of for the next fourteen days. I splurged on a loaf of bread and peanut butter tonight. At least the dog has food.
- In twelve days, I will have zero income as that will be my last day of employment. It will also mark the first time I've ever not had a job since I was 15 years old.
- I haven't done anything as far as sorting, packing, preparing, etc. for anything to be moved up to Atlanta.
- I'm getting sick again. Not the kind of coughing sick, but the other kind. The kind that I just can't afford right now.
mingaling
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7.14.2004 | They Never Cease To Amaze Me
The afternoon seemed rather swell until I received an email from some of my older students' English professor:
I thought you should know that three students have plagiarized sections of their
second essays and will consequently be receiving an F for the course. I will be speaking with these students tonight.
Doh.
And, like clockwork, one of the students called me s o b b i n g last night, saying that she didn't know that she plagiarized.
Apparently she let "some friend" edit her paper via email and he supposedly added things in from a college essay market-type website. I asked her why he was adding things (rather than advising), asked her if there were things in the paper that she herself did not author (of course), and pretty much put it in plain language that it added up to plagiarism. Finally, I think she understands.
That's not adding up to much, however, as the students tend to discount such threats of receiving failing grades in return for the ease of completing their papers quickly without thought. I'm actually glad this professor has taken this route, although the students' performance certainly casts a poor reflection upon my program and their peers.
mingaling
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7.13.2004 | Lovely Lizard
This little guy just saved me $337 on car insurance.
Finally, an annoying commercial worth something.
mingaling
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7.12.2004 | The Quest
The boy and I have been on a quest to find some pieces for our lovely new apartment. We've searched high and low for some simple, clean, functional and not ridiculously overpriced bed to lay our fantastic new 1000tc sheets upon. We went on a journey to outlet hell, but without luck.
Therefore we've come to the conclusion that it doesn't exist. So, having the crafty man that the boy is, we are going to make it. Imagine that!
The best part about it, though, is that we agree on style. This? Is a first for me. For all relationships. Period.
mingaling
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7.07.2004 | The Old Man
The boy's birthday is coming up, and of course I'll be making him a mix cd.
This is what we have on the menu so far:
In Da Club (It's Your Birthday) by 50 Cent
Because he's the P.I.M.P
Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough by Michael Jackson
The days of Studio 54...but he's not that old
It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want To by Lesley Gore
Hopefully he won't have a reason to!
Birthday by The Beatles
From the White Album
Happy Birthday by Jimi Hendrix
A birthday serenade
Will It Go Round In Circles by Billy Preston
The #1 song in the US on his birth date
Best of My Love by The Emotions
The #1 song in the US on my birth date
Fight For Your Right by Beastie Boys
99 Red Luft Balloons by Nena
The ring tone when he calls
Happy Birthday by Altered Image
Retro
Copacabana by Barry Manilow
The hottest spot north of Havana
Happy Birthday Mr. President by Marilyn Monroe
Hail to my chief
mingaling
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7.06.2004 | Oy
Things I still need:
a job
bed (screw that - we're making one)
new mattress (thanks to the boy)
chest of drawers
outdoor furniture (thanks mom)
someone to pack all my shit
mingaling
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7.04.2004 | Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Independence Day weekend, baseball game, apple pie (okay, there wasn't any pie, but there was plenty of beer) - an all-American weekend.
Braves vs. the Redsox
Post-game fireworks
mingaling
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7.01.2004 | Withdrawn
My job was posted online yesterday.
Bittersweet, indeed. The posting drew more sniffers out of the woodwork. There is a lot of interest in the position and many questions as to who may actually get it (internal vs. external).
My opinion? Interestingly enough I don't have one. I've been here long enough to teach others how certain things are done. No matter how much I cared about doing things the "right" way, there was always the backup plan of me fixing it if they didn't. I was the memory, the planner, the time keeper, but not any more. I've become much more withdrawn in the last few days, letting others step up to the plate and to task. Slight guidance may occur (out of habit, I assure you) but there are times when some need to fall on their face.
Let's call it a learning experience, shall we?
mingaling
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6.30.2004 | I Guess Summer Camp Isn't THAT Bad
mingaling
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6.29.2004 | The Joys of Philanthropy
I just completed the writing assignment as part of the interview process with a certain service organization. Ideally, it would have been something challenging like what strategies would I employ to meet x, y, and z needs. Instead it was a pithy prompt of "why service is important to you":
Service is the most fundamental act of citizenship and humanity in our society...
... and that is why we're seriously lacking it.
By caring and contributing to change, volunteers decrease distress and disparity while they gain skills, self-esteem, and change their lives.
That is if they show up on time. Or at all.
From then on, my goal was to commit myself to such an initiative by working with national service organizations.
And to earn less than $40k FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
I also got to use the word "reciprocity" in the title and multiple times within the essay. Because.
mingaling
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6.28.2004 | Rain, Rent, and Rainbows
The skies opened up in Atlanta. The continued throughout the weekend, peppering through the interview (which went well), visits with friends (very well), and PRIDE. There were no lazy afternoons in a sunny park, and so the boy and I did the best that we could: we got an apartment (a 2/2 near the park for future sunny days).
I'm so happy we decided to rent rather than buy. It's a 12 year old addition to a 1903 house with 6 units total. There's a huge backyard for Sam, and I'm loving the midtown location, and can walk to Piedmont Park, Whole Foods, Petsmart, Borders, and a million restaurants and shops.
mingaling
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6.27.2004 | You Get What You Pay For: A Reprise of My Return Trip
8:10p Rush to check-in after too-long dinner with boy.
8:20p Watch idiots who apparently have never travelled before go through security.
8:35p Catch train to gate. Find flight is delayed until 10:43
8:37p Blink again. Still says 10:43.
8:40p Go to bar. Drink. A lot.
10:00p Go to gate. Delayed again until 11:43.
10:03p Buy fascinating literature (People, In Touch, etc.). Read. Complete crosswords.
11:00p Realize sign now says 12:20. Bang head on wall.
12:25a Plane arrives.
12:45a Begin boarding. Get worst seat on entire plane.
1:20a Take off.
2:10a Arrive in Orlando.
2:30a Wait for bag.
2:47a Realize that wrong carousel number was given. Bag on other side of terminal.
3:20a Pick up car.
3:45a Get home. Die.
mingaling
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6.23.2004 | Surprise
Got myself another interview in Atlanta on Friday. Low on funds, of course, (downside of being an educator AND paid monthly), but luckily I volunteered to get bumped last trip and snagged myself a free ticket for this one.
I SO needed this, too. It's been another rough week at work and I miss the boy terribly. Interview aside, I'm looking forward to a weekend of lazy book reading and afternoons in the park.
mingaling
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6.21.2004 | Tulle Time
Spring/Summer. Warm weather, pastels, and eight million wedding invitations. Multiple wedding events are going on. There are numerous engagements taking place. Dresses are being picked, dates being set, and ultimatum being set.
It's hard to not refer back to my own wedding in the midst of this nuptial nonsense. It was four years ago in April, right smack in the middle of planning time. In fact, because it was the year 2000 (insert ominous drumming background music) we had to book a year in advance for most everything. So there I was, in 1999, planning everything to the minute detail for the so called "event" of my life.
And boy, were there details. First there had to be a location. There wasn't really a choice as it was going to be at the chapel at my alma mater. Not that we were religious or anything, but it's historical value and beauty could not be argued. For the reception I wanted someplace close. The Women's Club was conveniently across the street (on the same one as my office) and within walking distance from the chapel. Perfect. However, the ONE picture I wanted the fucking photographer to take was of me (and the X) running across Fairbanks Avenue in my giant white dress. Apparently he was drinking a beer at the moment.
There are other details, of course, but every bride has the dilemma of finding the perfect dress. I never thought of myself covered in tulle and satin, but I found it very hard to fight off. Walking into bridal stores was like an addict walking into the Wonka's Land of Crack. You just can't help but get sucked into the vast array of trains, necklines, and veils. Tiaras? Um, yeah! Initially I wanted something a little a little modern, a little avant garde, but ended up with something completely traditional. Go figure.
mingaling
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6.20.2004 | I Hate Father's Day as much as El Paso
Father's Day, 1997. I had the brunch shift at work, and Daddy was off on another one of his road trips. He was of the old school variety where the road beckoned him and fuel efficiency was nonsense. "Cars were built to see America," he would say to us. This time it was LA to visit an old friend. I gave him a hug goodbye and he said I'd see him soon. After work I went and picked him up a couple of shirts he requested for his gift, including the fugly salmon colored polo shirt he wanted. The man was a dear, but had no fashion sense.
When I got home that evening, my mother was on the phone and my sister J greeting me alarmingly at the door. She said something "happened" to him, but couldn't describe what. Mom's serious countenance gave it away, really. When she hung up she said she was off to Texas in that night. Dad was in a hospital in El Paso, possibly a heart attack, and was on life support. The color drained from my face. I was charged with making the phone call to the family. Mom was off to the airport. We didn't have a lot of money at the time, so there was only enough to fly her out. My sister and I (13 and 19 respectively) let the loneliness sink in. After a sleepless night, we awoke to find that dad's friends had purchased a pair of tickets for J and I. We were off that afternoon to El Paso, and on my way out I grabbed the Father's Day card off the top of the gift I had bought.
I had never been to El Paso, but I imagined it looked like the rest of Texas. Little did I know until we landed that it amounted to a large amount of rocks and dirt, with sparse green patches. It was the driest place I'd ever seen. Mom picked us up from the airport and took us to the hotel where we dropped off our bags and went straight to the hospital. We arrived at the ICU and found him lying there. He had stopped at a restaurant, supposedly to grab a bite, but never made it out of the car. In the scorching sun, he sustained 1st and 2nd degree burns on his body. The lack of oxygen to his brain before being found caused a presumably large amount of brain damage. In essence, he had already gone. I wished for a miraculous recovery (as seen on tv). I prayed an exorbitant amount for an agnostic. I read him his card, hoping he'd wake up and say, "I can read it myself, dummy." You could say I was grasping at straws. But in the end the machine was turned off, he breathed his last breath, and the first person I ever knew who died was my father.
I could fill these pages with memories, like when he would always make us pancakes for breakfast, or when he'd wake us in the morning like a crowing rooster. With only a high school education and a suitcase, he went to Taiwan and got himself a career, wife, and baby. He always provided me with everything I needed to become the giant dork that I am and was my biggest cheerleader when I went college. He was the best chauffeur in town, always taking us the mall, theme parks, or any other place he'd rather not be. He would make the loudest farts and completely ignore the entire incident. He taught me how to make a perfect gin & tonic at the age of 3. He was the only dad out of all my friends that had tattoos. His favorite word was "dope." He'd turn C-SPAN up at top volume because of his hearing, but still be able to catch me saying "fuck" on the other side of the house. How he always wanted to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery, and how he finally was.
I worry about losing memories, too, like forgetting the sound of his voice, feel of his gruff face, or the smell of his clothes. I still feel guilty for not saying I loved him enough and that I didn't get a chance to really say goodbye. I'm sad that I don't believe in a heaven-like place because I think that's a crock and that I won't end up seeing him again like in fairytales. I'm sad he never saw me graduate. I'm sad that the boy will never get to meet the first love of my life. I'm kind of glad he didn't have to kick my X's ass. I hope I can convey to my children how fantastic their granddad was, and how I would never have been the person I am today without him.
mingaling
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6.19.2004 | Roller Derby
You can't seriously blame me for wanting to buy a warehouse loft and go bed surfing after seeing this.
mingaling
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6.18.2004 | The Good, the Bad, and the Soon to Be Ugly
Yesterday blew.
Rolled in to the office to hear that the kids had been acting up in the dorm. Actually, two instances of them acting up. I also learn that D had installed a wireless camera and caught it all on tape. Needless to say, I sent home 7 students I couldn't risk keeping and pissed off 58 more. We had a dorm meeting where they bitched and moaned, wondering how they could have been sent home when they did they same things last summer (but didn't get caught). And did I tell you how the kids have broken into two separate factions? If you think toddlers can be whiny, just wait until they're 17. I got so upset that I broke the #1 rule of teaching: never let them see you cry. This isn't what I wanted for my last summer. I left, exhausted and miserable.
Today was better. After last night's meeting things seemed to be turning around. Kids have smiles back on their faces. They actually speak to each other. Something must have gotten through to them. Or maybe it was because it's Friday and they're going home for the weekend (sweet relief!).
All I know is that happy hour's still on.
mingaling
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6.16.2004 | W flies commercial
So there's a George W. Bush lookalike at the airport. Grey suit, red tie, flag pin, the whole bit. Everyone freaks out, wondering if it really is him. Um, yeah, just flying commercial to reduce the deficit and he really just likes to carry his own bag.
The general public frightens me.
mingaling
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6.15.2004 | 4:30 AM is not a good time to start
I had the pleasure of leaving the house at 4:30 am to head to the airport and catch my flight to Atlanta. I arrived at 7:30 in suit, heels, hose, and everything else I could have possibly worn to make the flight less comfortable.
The first interview was on the other side of town. These people have been stringing me along about this opening since April, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Happily, I soon found out that it wasn't that they hated me, but that the director was a complete airhead... and I can definitely work with that. The other two were very nice as well, and I put on the charm and dazzled them with my knowledge of exciting federal regulations. It was just too easy.
The second interview was a bit odd. She was terribly nice and everything, but it was one of those interviews where the interviewer doesn't ask any questions. Instead, I had to ask the questions and then refer back to my experience. She just talked, talked, talked about everything going on there except me (coincidentally, this is the same type of interview that landed me my present job). Seriously, what was she thinking making me do all the work?
Worst part: this could have all been done over the phone/ webcam. A conference call could have been fine (and would have saved me some cash, damn it). I'm sure they would have missed out on my magnificent presence, but they are institutions of HIGHER learning and all.
mingaling
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6.14.2004 | $1.86
I can't even tell you how excited I was to see that price for gas.
mingaling
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6.13.2004 | Checked Out
I've always loved running the camp. It eschews the boredom of the classroom and allows me to spend some quality time with the students. Plus, I love chaperoning field trips. Who wants to stay in the office all day?
Oddly, though, I'm not really excited about this summer. I haven't the energy to put forth in dealing with the kids' antics. My patience with the summer staff wore thin while I watched them repeatedly slip up during check-in this afternoon. I caught myself halfway through my redirections to them and just... stopped. Maybe it was the fact that I'm exhausted and don't have the energy to repeat myself. Maybe it was the fact that it's my last summer and I'm not going to get my panties in a wad over something that will blow by in a matter of weeks. Maybe I've just checked out mentally.
----
There has been a huge thunderstorm on the first night every summer since I started. I warn kids about this repeatedly, but they've always managed to forget umbrellas and end up soaked and miserable.
The wind blew cooler air this afternoon and the sky turned grey. Thunder rolled in the background, and one of the students asked me, "Why are you always right?" referring to the approaching storm. "I don't know. I guess I've just been doing this forever." As it turns out, the rain never came. The storm rolled by and the sun regained it's position in the early evening sky.
mingaling
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6.13.2004 | Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
I've pickled my insides. I have had entirely too much to drink in the last 2 days. I feel like a withered prune sucking onto a bottle of pellegrino and clinging for dear life.
It was rather fun, though. Friday consisted of meeting up with a longtime friend who came to town for a day of business. We had dinner, then headed downtown to Jax. It's amazing how comfortable we are around each other. We met in 9th grade, and he's pretty much the only person from high school that I still keep in touch with.
Still nursing the headache from Friday, I had an "official" gathering to get to on Saturday. D hosted a mingling party for all of our summer camp staff to get to know each other. I was appropriately charged with supplying beverages. I have to say that I am rather pleased with the staff we have this summer. The residential staff seems to get along well, and the faculty is an interesting mix of new and more experienced teachers (of course I will have to take back that entire statement sometime in the next 6 weeks when the kids revolt against all the teachers and set fire to the dorm).
mingaling
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6.11.2004 | Question of the Day
Why does dog puke have to be fluorescent yellow?
mingaling
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6.11.2004 | Those Damn Joneses
Again with the househunting. The boy was a little bummed out because the overpriced and overrated shacks of Atlanta have dashed his dreams of acquiring an ancestral manor right away.
I have to laugh, but he feels out of sorts mainly because he's a little behind the rest of his crew in many ways, mainly the big three: marriage, money, and property. He's never married, nor has he been close. Upon graduating, it took him a little while to figure out what exactly he was to do. Once he had a career, he changed mid-way through and then returned to business school full-time as one of the older kids in class. He makes great money, but certainly less than his wonderful but completely overpaid friends. Finally, he's never owned.
As I said to him, these things are a bit silly and overrated. Marriage? Been there, done that, and it ain't all grand. Again, it's certainly proof that finding the right person should rate higher than crossing it off your list. And he has the right person, so no worries.
Money? Seriously, if there's one person in the world who can teach the boy to be poor successfully it's me. I've got all kinds of tricks up my sleeve. It's also completely laughable because his annual salary is a KAJILLION times more than mine.
Lastly, the whole property thing still confounds me. I've never wanted to own a home. When I did, I certainly didn't relish in the wonderful world of home ownership. It was more like, "I have to fix something when it breaks? Fuck!" I hated the yard work, the maintenance, the pool chemical equations - bah! Just the thought of it is irritating. Plus, I live with my mom now. How completely ungrownup (but free) is that? I'll be happy enough in a house with him, but just as happy in a condo or loft. Either way it will be our first step to building a real estate empire and it's not a consolation prize.
After discussing, he realizes that it was silly to keep up with the Joneses. It's not a contest, plus we have so much more than others that do have the 3. He also worried that he was disappointing to me (!) for not having more money or a sprawling estate. Silly boy.
mingaling
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6.09.2004 | A New Mode of Living
Lately I've been thinking about how my actions affect others. Not just interpersonally, but perhaps the community and the world at large.
I guess it all started when I sat down and realized how tiny I am in the large spectrum of things while watching the news. All the problems that I can't solve seemed so distant. But then I also realized that I had two things in my corner: a vote and consumer choice. Everyone (we hope) gets just one vote. Granted, I have very little consumer power, but I think the little that I do should really be aligned with my ideals, right?
I'm not just talking about the boycotting of certain businesses because they are huge financial supporters of movements I do not agree with (Dominoes, Curves, etc.). I should give more support to local food farmers. I've almost completely avoided chain restaurants and stuck with small mom & pop businesses. I've kept using more environmentally friendly cleaners.
Yet it gets so perplexing. For instance there's Target, which I love, that supports Planned Parenthood and that's good with me. They're a foreign owned company, but they also provide many local jobs. They provide an array of merchandise, but I'm not sure how many come from sweatshops. Damn it. Why is it so hard to be good? And why do I not have an American Apparel near me?
And the car... the stupid car. How I've begun to loathe having it and relying upon it. I have to figure out a way to carpool or bus or something despite living in the middle of nowhere. With gas prices soaring and emissions and killing natural resources, I kinda suck. I want to be rid of it, or at least grab a little hybrid.
Sigh. This is what happens with too much NPR.
mingaling
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6.08.2004 | It's Pouring
How do I stress? Let me count the ways:
1. Interviews in Atlanta on Tues. and Wed. No possible way to get there without taking time off and pissing others off, nor do I have the funding to get there. I have no fucking idea how to work this out.
2. Funding. Serious.lack.of. And it's 3 weeks until pay day.
3. Surprise $109 bill from August 2003 (mono, x cut off my insurance). I thought I had paid it all off and now this. Refer to #2.
4. The job that I really really really really (did I say really?) want and interviewed for is still up in the air. The vp's mom died, which is so sad, so I'm just patiently waiting.
mingaling
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6.8.2004 | Me, Virtually
Courtesy of Lands' End.
mingaling
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6.07.2004 | Praise Jebus
Emotional rollercoaster of the day - a mini script:
Scene: Local Toyota Dealership. After 2 HOURS.
Service Person: Ma'am, it seems that your [insert unpronounceable auto part that I didn't nor want to know even existed] is causing your check-engine light to come on.
Moi: Oh, I see. And how much...
SP: That's going to cost about $480 for the...
M: Ack! Are you sure it's not covered by the warranty?
SP: Oh, you have one?
M: Grrr...
SP: Okay, the paperwork says it's not?
M: Please, please pretty please call them for me! I will bake you cookies!
SP: I'll give them a call and check it out.
SP: (Returning) Okay, they say they have no record of you having a warranty.
M: Ack! But, but...
SP: Did you change your name or something?
M: Yes! Stupid X! It's under the old name!
SP: Okay, it's covered after the deductible.
And that's the only way to get me to love you after 4 HOURS of waiting.
mingaling
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6.06.2004 | Stolen Moments
I had plenty of plans this weekend, but when Saturday afternoon rolled around and as I sat with D and some new friends over hefeweizen and cynical conversation it hit me... I need this time to myself. I cancelled plans, feigning illness (not such a little white lie after many drinks) and retired to my bed to finish the latest read.
Had the boy been with me it may have been different. I long for my solitary existence to end and share both the exciting highs and dull lows of the everyday with him. Yet, in my loneliness, I realize I've missed the quiet solitude of stealing away hours with a good book and drawing pen and ink, listening to the music that sings of such hours. The occasional call from the boy filters in a few times a day, brightening my curiosity of his daily routine. But now it's storming outside, and the thunder lulls me to into a relaxed state in which my mind and body relishes its tranquility.
mingaling
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6.04.2004 | Dwellings
While in Atlanta, the boy and I took the opportunity to go full-on house hunting.
When househunting in Atlanta, it's easy to get overwhelmed. There are many areas that are quite nice, but then there are the notsonice areas that can sneak up on you when you least expect it. The distance between them could be 5 yards and POOF! You're in the hood. It's also a learning process for me. I now know how to get to the Highlands, Midtown, Buckhead, Oakhurst, and Grant, Candler, Inman and Ansley Park without a map. I also now know that I'm only getting 1 bathroom if I want something under $200K.
The internet has been a godsend in the process, but at the same time it truly is judging a book by its cover. Like this listing for example. Nicely renovated inside; located in the lovely Grant Park District. However, it's precise location is actually next to the Hot Wings shack (known for their fabulous Ghetto burgers - I shit you not) and the corner T-shirt Tent. The boy knows Atlanta very well, but we still had to trot on over to discover this little tidbit.
We're also wavering between condo and house. We've found some pretty nice (read: tiny and overpriced) condos that are within walking distance from everything. And that's what I've found that is most charming about Atlanta. In almost 10 different neighborhoods, you can live 10 minutes from downtown, walk to Whole Foods/ restaurants and bars, and basically never use your car on the weekend. Which, in essence, sounds like heaven.
The boy in front of a prospect.
mingaling
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6.01.2004 | And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...
The week in Atlanta was fabulous as always. I have really fallen in love with my new hometown. The boy and I had some fantastic days doing both everything (jazz fest, parties, dinners, sweet love in front of Atlanta from the 49th floor) and nothing. In that time, there was no time to sit idly by the computer and ask you all to commiserate in longing to be with him. It was nice... but, alas, I'm back.
Despite being away from the computer (and then coming home to 104 emails), my cell rang incessantly for non-essential work-related phone calls. No, not from the office (they know better), but from students. Students who called to find out when and where their classes were. Students who called to ask when they were supposed to purchase their books. Students who were told this EIGHT HUNDRED TIMES IN THE LAST 3 WEEKS by yours truly.
It may be mean, a tad bit cruel, but the "decline" button has a million ways to make me happy.
The Westin at Peachtree
Jazz Fest, Piedmont Park
The floor at Starbucks on Highland
mingaling
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5.30.2004 | Props
Many thanks to the darling Dahlia for providing the script for my travel counter!
mingaling
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5.27.2004 | You're Only King Once
It has been such a long time since I've seen an all-out fantastic show. Well, that changed last night. D and I ventured over to the Social and enjoyed some pre-show drinks on the sidewalk. It was a warm night without a breeze, but the streets were clear and there was good company. Unfortunately, hot dog stand guy wasn't set up yet and I was starving, so I settled for more beer to fill the belly.
Dios opened the show. I had just gotten their cd and had instantly fallen in love with them and their sleepy lyrics. They were quite funny, too, although the pot jokes just about made me feel like the oldest person in the room. Ah, the good old days. I loved how everyone knew the words to Starting 5. After their set I ran outside to meet hot dog stand guy who was ready and waiting.
Click here for really bad phone camera video
Beulah was fantastic, as expected. I've never seen them live, and this was their first time in Florida. The music was as gorgeous as their lyrics were. It was the sort of show where everyone is in tune, dancing to the beat, and singing along to Landslide Baby without skipping a beat. They invited a bunch of people on stage to play various percussion items (gotta love the maracas). Plus, what's cooler than a guitarist who switches to a trumpet midsong? They closed the show with a rousing rendition of Me and Jesus Don't Talk Anymore, inviting more people on stage. And the drummer is the cutest thing I've ever seen. Best.show.ever.
I was sad when it ended. Even the vegan hot dog guy couldn't make me happy afterwards.
But the best part? I get to see them AGAIN on Friday in Atlanta. Yay!
mingaling
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5.26.2004 | Reasons I should not be categorized as an adult:
Thinking: I should bring my leftovers for lunch.
Doing: Sushi with the office girls.
Reason: Everybody's doing it.
Thinking: Sweet tooth - I should eat that apple on my desk.
Doing: Eating a bag of malted milk balls.
Reason: PMS?
Thinking: I would love some colored sharpies for crafty projects.
Doing: Asking my secretary to order them with the office supplies.
Reason: Crafts AT work. Two birds!
Thinking: I should be scrimping and saving.
Doing: Choosing between several items at the Gap.
Reason: It was on sale. Promise.
mingaling
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5.25.2004 | The Interview
After the disastrous conversation in order to schedule the appointment, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. The day before I holed myself up in a room with a million copies of federal regulations and the Higher Education Act and memorized as much as I could about the grants. I tried to anticipate every question, most importantly the "when would you be available" one that I would very much like to avoid.
I found the campus quite easily and arrived rather early. I walked around and took a look at several of the classroom buildings. It was a hot day already, and I had on a black suit, pantyhose, and an inhumane amount of layers in the heat. I went into the office a little before the designated time and found my first interview would be a one-on-one with the vice provost. She was pleasant, but very provost-y. You know, the all about business type of administrator. However, after chatting for a while, she eased up and was pretty candid. After letting her know I wouldn't be available until the end of July, she indicated that it would not be too terrible a mark against me. La phew!
I also met with several folks from other departments. This group interview went extremely well, and I must say that the information technology director is about to start my fan club.
All in all, it went splendidly. They said they'd be making decisions soon, so I'm crossing my fingers!
mingaling
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5.24.2004 | Of the 8,000 things I did this weekend...
... here's a little taste:
- The boy flew in on Friday.
- We went to the worst graduation in the history of all graduations.
- Also, the guest speaker was a right-wing christian conservative and warned the students about people trying to teach them "new" things in college.
- Went to test drive a car that the boy wants. Must say that I wasn't expecting to absofucking love it, but I do. Really.
- The boy traded in his returning flight and drove up to ATL with myself and the furbeast - roadtrip!
- We listened to a book on cd like an old married couple.
mingaling
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5.22.2004 | Serenity Now
On Friday, I got the sudden urge to let it all out. No, not those, but to let my boss know that I'm gone. Done. Finito. Adios muchacho.
This, of course, was eased by having lunch with the office staff. We decided that a nice way of calming me down would be to have a few irish car bombs and beer chasers. Did I mention how much I'm going to miss working here?
After lunch, I sauntered up to the little big man's office and dropped in unexpectedly, resignation letter in hand, and nerves of steel in place. We started chatting about the usual banal office procedures and whatnot, asked me if I had gotten my letter from HR about the raise (enter guilt, stage left), and then asked what I needed to speak to him about.
I practiced this a million times in my head. I'm looking for greater responsibility, a bigger student body to work with, more autonomy in my position. Yet, despite that, all I managed to blurt out was something like, "I like working with you but I want to get married and have babies and I can't do that from here." And it gets worse... I START TO CRY.
Had my boss and I had just a normal working relationship, this would seem extremely odd and awkwardly unprofessional. However, my boss and I are both freaks. We both know this, so it was almost expected. I told him I'd stay until the end of July, for which he was grateful, and offered me his best wishes.
I guess that went well, right?
mingaling
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5.21.2004 | ISTJ
I'm an ISTJ... in Myers-Briggs speak, that is.
People of this type tend to be: cautious, conservative, and quiet.
It's the quiet ones you have to watch.
...literal, realistic, and practical.
... because I'm always right.
The most important thing to ISTJs is being of service, working hard, and being responsible.
... because I want to rule the world.
Careers for ISTJs: Paralegal, Accountant, Credit Analyst, Database Administrator...
Hahahahahahahahahaha... ah.
How to love an ISTJ:
Appreciate my common sense, practical, and steady approach to life.
Or I will kick you in the face.
Respect my need for routine and order; avoid sudden changes.
Don't mess with my shit.
Listen attentively and respectfully.
Or else.
Give me plenty of time to think things through before discussing them.
Game plans.
Above all - Notice and acknowledge my hard work and commitment to our family's needs.
Because you should worship me.
mingaling
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5.20.2004 | Da Shiznit
From the D-O- double Gizzle, it's Tha Shizzolator.
mingaling
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5.20.2004 | Just In Time
Seems I've gotten a $2500 raise just in time for me to leave.
Figures.
mingaling
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5.19.2004 | Stuck
When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
-Harry, When Harry Met Sally
I'm between a rock and a hard place. How cliche.
Problem #1: As you all know, this girl is looking for a job in Atlanta. Which is slowly progressing. Which sucks.
Problem #2: If I do get said job in Atlanta, I must give present employer 4 weeks notice. Yes, 4. If not, I forfeit all my vacation time that converts to real dollars, and that equates to a month's salary right now.
Problem #3: Most people hiring are looking to right away. Am worried that #2 is a major turnoff.
Problem #4: If I do give 4 weeks anytime now, I would still be leaving said employer in the lurch during the busiest time of year (I run a summer camp from June-July).
Problem #5: The boy and I have decided not to find dwelling until knowing the location of new job because he wants it to be as close as possible to my job. {love him}
Problem #6: I want to move now. Now, now, now!
I was trying to convey all of this again to the boy last night, but I tire of it quickly and just want him to be here to melt it all away with his hugs and kisses.
** Edited to add more thoughts while she grazes on a late lunch **
I could just give my notice now to leave at the conclusion of camp, wing it with the job and sit at home eating bon bons all day while the boy supports my cupcake-baking ass.
Who's with me?
mingaling
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5.18.2004 | Twilight Zone Moment of the Week
I write a little post about the high school sweetheart, and guess what was waiting in my inbox?
I was FRIENDSTERED by him. That's right, the online friend networking thing that I can't seem to wrap my brain around. This is my first - I don't understand it and I think all my real life friends are afraid of this scary thing called the i n t e r n e t.
Coincidence? I think snot.
mingaling
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5.18.2004 | Itch, Itch, Itch
Over the last two years, my skin has gone from soft and supple and turned into the Itchy and Scratchy Show, sans maniacally cute knife-wielding characters.
I think it was all the time in the sun, or perhaps genes have started developing my mom's evil allergies. I've tried so many things, too, including sugar scrubs, salt scrubs, vat after vat of moisturizers, but it just reappears.
The worst thing is that after itching myself, it looks like I've been clawed by a wildebeast. My skin is ultrasensitive, and any time I scratch I get giant welts that have assured raised eyebrows and gained 800-numbers for abuse hotlines.
The dog seems to be itchy, too, but she also apparently has been doing tripod yoga.
mingaling
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5.18.2004 | Yet Another Reason Job Hunting Sucks
I got a message for an interview, a great, kick-ass, i-would-be-such-a-fucking-rock-star job interview. She left a tentative date and time, so I happily called back.
But, when I called her back, she said the date and time she left on my voicemail couldn't possibly be. She didn't believe me, and at that point I was just "whatever works for you is fine." Yet, she kept arguing with me. I didn't even think it was possible for someone to have an argument with a person who is not arguing. Apparently I was wrong.
I also made the mistake of mentioning that I was still in Orlando, as she kept pressing for the reasons behind that. At this point I was still being mighty nice and humorous, but thinking that she certainly has nothing better to do at her $10/hour nosey secretary job and WHY CAN'T I JUST TALK TO YOUR BOSS?
After a painful 15 minutes with her, she finally realized that she indeed had given me that exact date and time and that it would work just fine with me. Like I said.
Did I mention I'm driving 7 hours to meet these people for a four hour interview?
mingaling
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5.17.2004 | When Urls Cross
While doing some searching on using blogging in the classroom (yes, I was really working) I came upon this article. Pretty good information, a short section on kids using blogs in class, etc. But the most interesting thing was the author. Let me introduce you to my first love, the high school sweetheart. The punk rock boy, the guitar player who was in a band, the philosopher who really majored in it...
We've all heard the horror stories of running into ex's in person, but I was totally not expecting to run into him while doing research for work. And what does one do when confronted by the ex online? Close the window? ("NO" screams her alter-ego as she wants to find out all the dirt she can on him). But there wasn't much to find out. He's still at Georgetown, as I did catch up with him one December in DC for an awkward dinner.
The last time I saw him was when he was in town to visit his family, and I, newly divorced, was prime kissing material. But then I gave him the "it didn't work - it will never work" speech. And it didn't. We were too much alike, too much so that it almost became competitive. Add that to the band and the touring and college and everything else I had to compete with for attention, along with doing a lot of growing up, and it didn't make a pretty picture. After the kissing incident, we never spoke again.
In essence, it was kind of cute to see his work online and that he's obviously doing well with his studies. Even if I did get my master's first.
mingaling
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5.16.2004 | The Remodel
Cleaning things up a bit around here. New About Me page. Yeah, it's all schmoopy.
mingaling
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5.15.2004 | To Open Arms
There is no doubt that the boy is the love of my life. That being said, I never imagined that the love of my life would be living so.far.away.
Okay, so it's not that far, but it still pains me to not feel him next to me when I wake up in the morning (because he emits the most comforting warmth like no other) or see his smiling face in person (because he does have the most beautiful smile). We talk every day, and I should be thankful that we can and that it's almost like he's here. I should be happy that we have this time to share our dreams and ideas when most let the daily grind pass these priceless conversations by the wayside.
People are still a little surprised that I would drop everything like a hot potato and run away to him, at least the people who only think they know me. I love my job here, but there is a lot I can do in a larger city. I love my family, but I'll be close enough to visit just as much as I do now. It sounds like I have an answer for everything, but I don't. I don't know when or where I'll get a new job. I don't know how much I'll miss my friends and family, or how hard it will be to make new friends there. I don't know all the answers, but I know he is the boy that will make me feel like a rock star when the going gets rough, the one who cheers for me on the phone when I've been turned down for yet another job, the one who calls me "babydoll" and wipes the frown right off my face.
What was I getting at? Oh, the story of Krissa & Stuart.
They've both found the love of their life - in each other. She's in New York, and he's across the pond. Or should I say that he'll be MOVING TO BE WITH HER. Yes, Stuart is a fine chap. Of course it will take a bit longer for him to move to NYC than for I to move to Atlanta, but it's not a daunting task when you have such welcoming arms at the other end of your journey.
So yeah, love conquers all. Word.
(And if you have an extra buck or two, chip in to the Love Fund)
mingaling
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5.15.2004 | Spooked
When I blowdry my hair, I often have to throw my arms back in the air. The bathroom door is usually cracked open to let out some of the heat. At times, there is a position in which I catch the illusion of someone watching me - scaring me half to death - but it's always my own self with the blowdryer.
That, and I can't get Karen O's voice out of my head.
mingaling
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5.15.2004 | God help us all me
Wisdom from my mother's boyfriend:
"The difference between a redneck and a good ol' boy is that a redneck will throw his beer bottle on the road, whereas a good ol' boy will throw it in the back of his pickup."
mingaling
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5.14.2004 | Speaking of Date Night...
I've got a hot date - with myself.
Carved out a niche of time, some really good magazines to read, nail polish, popsicles, the works. I'd throw in a dvd, but the one I want to watch is in ATL with the boy.
So I'm turning off the phone, and the other phone, and the computer.
I know you're jealous.
mingaling
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5.14.2004 | Technologically Incompetent
I'm not sure if I love or hate this new scheme. Seeing as I did it from html scratch, it's not bad for a unhip geek.
But the stupid bar between the posts and links - can't seem to get rid of it.
mingaling
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5.13.2004 | The Slow Kid
I have to admit that the furbeast is not the brightest one in the litter. She is good at fetching, catching frisbees, but anything above that is a bit too much to ask.
I often wonder if it's just a fact of life or if there was something I could have done to prevent it. For instance, she bumps her head into things at least 20 times a day. Coffee tables, desks, chairs, cabinet doors, you name it - THUMP! I freak out every time, but she acts like it never happened, never even needing to shake it off. And her schnoz? I'd say it's an average size, but god help me if I have to see her turn another corner quickly and SMACK! The poor thing never knew what hit her.
We watched E-Vets today, and I have to say seeing all of that head trauma to those poor pups whacked about by cars and other things made me realize that I'm really worried about this. I've been inspired to try to relieve some of the pain and suffering she's bound to endure at this rate.
mingaling
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5.13.2004 | Three's Company
My family was never the "sit around the dinner table and talk about your day" kind of family. We all had different schedules and ran around quite a bit as we got older. Dinner for me was usually a grab and run before heading off to my night classes, or something I snuck into the kitchen for after coming home way too late for a 16 year old.
Nevertheless, living here has taken an interesting turn. Since mom and T have been dating, Wednesdays have been the standby date night. It often involves no more than a home-cooked meal and relaxing in front of the tv. But now, instead of just the two of them, it's the three of us.
At first I was reluctant to rain on their parade, usually grabbing a bite then slithering back into my room, but T's invites and mom's food eventually won me over to the standard sit-eat-and-run mode. The conversations grew longer, and the ease of talking about our days and our plans grew as well. Mom and I never really spoke much, so living with her never seemed to be any more than living with an older roommate, but these nights it became clear that there was much to catch up on. The conversations range from work (blech), the boy (yay), my sister (eh), to T's kids (won't even go there), each with their tangential segways to bigger and broader topics.
Now it's a regular feature of the household. I look forward to the conversation as much as the cooking. But don't you worry... they still have a date night, but now it's regularly scheduled on Fridays.
mingaling
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5.12.2004 | The Hell Desk
Got home, sat down as usual to check email. Decided to delete some of my archived messages. BIG mistake.
It freezes. I only slightly freak out when I have to reboot. Go back to my mail program and voila - message of death:
Computerese: C:\DOCUMEN~1\APPLIC~1\EARTHL~1\mailbox/Elnkmail.dbd needs to be repaired
English: You're fucked.
I do the live chat with the Help Desk support. Spoke to three different people who were of no help. I called to say, "All I need are 4 emails - screw the rest of them. Do it for the love!" The emails were the first ones the boy and I exchanged. They were all I wanted. They were priceless.
Alas, the problem was unresolved. There was an uninstall and an install, then everything was gone. I called the boy, all weepy:
Me: I lost it all!
Boy: What? Your mind? Ha ha...
Me: Babe! The emails, the ones from Match.
Boy: Um, I can forward them to you.
Me: Okay. Now you can be the smart one.
Note: I lost all of my address book. If you were in it, or at least you think you were, please send me a note so that I can add you again.
mingaling
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5.12.2004 | Ugh
I just spent $190 to take Georgia teacher certification tests. In June. On a Saturday. Morning.
Grrr.
mingaling
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5.11.2004 | The Theory of Forms
You know your girlfriend is a dork when she calls you on a Saturday night to analyze your relationship in terms of Plato's Theory of Forms.
The Sensual
Images: The photos of the boy and me, silly smiles, freckles, laughing, emails/voicemails that say "I love you"
Things: The physical presence of the boy, the hugs, the kisses, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body
Divided Line
The Rational
Concepts: The joy, the laughter, the comfort, the contentment, the love that we feel
Ideal Form: The unchanging, pure, perfect, and absolutely beautiful idea that this is it
And as for Plato? Rolling.over.in.grave.
mingaling
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5.11.2004 | Random Chafing
My sister got a D in her humanities course. She said she didn't need help. From me. A humanities professor. Now she has to take 2 humanities courses this summer. Wonder if she'll need help now?
When I tell you something, I kind of just think you'll remember it. When you forget, I kind of just remind you. What you don't want to do is respond with "I know." Ever.
My period has been a week early for the last two months. This month? TWO weeks early. With cramps.
Furbeast woke me up at 4 am this morning. Couldn't get back to sleep. Is this like some pre-kid training?
mingaling
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5.11.2004 | Potty Training
Not for kids, or pets, but for me. I'm a holder. I will literally hold it until I'm squirming. Why? No idea.
I think it goes back to when I taught middle and high school. There were only 5 minutes between classes, so wrapping up things with students, writing hall passes, and everything else alloted very little time for trips to the bathroom. I pretty much held it all day, as most days I wouldn't get lunches or even a planning period, further developing the bladder of steel.
But now I work in the ideal environment. I'm in the office all week, only have classes a few times per week, and have ultimate freedom. My desk is 4 yards from the restroom. Yet, after having 2 lattes, 1 diet coke, and an iced tea, I sit squirming and putting it off until I absolutely can't hold it anymore.
I'm so weird.
mingaling
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5.10.2004 | Tour O' Beds 2004
The boy and I have taken the impending joining of forces and living spaces very seriously. Our biggest concern: the bed. I mean, what greater investment can you make than on the thing that you sleep and, um, do other things on for hours at a time?
In our search for the perfect mattress, we've found that the best way to test these things out is by bunking at someone else's place to try out these beauties. And so far, these are the contenders:
The Tempur-Pedic
J & L have this one. It's nice and comfy, but a little too spongy. In fact, that's all it is: one layer of sponge. The plus factor was that theirs was a king, but we're thinking a queen would suffice (don't want him to be too far from me). Cost: $1,883.
Stearns and Foster
G & W have this one. The standout feature was how incredibly thick it was - the bed was quite tall. It was very comfy, and I liked the fact that it wasn't too spongy. The tallness also helps with deterring unwelcome furbeasts in the middle of the night. Cost: $1,849.
The Sonno mattress
We checked this one out in South Beach. It's really a less expensive version of the Tempur-Pedic, but with individual mattresses for each person that have a "soft" and a "firm" side. You can flip them accordingly. Again, pretty much a one layer sponge. Cost: $1,695.
The Westin Heavenly Bed
The cheapest of all the options. It's a nice, comfy bed. Good height, too. Hard to tell the difference between this and the Stearns & Foster. Cost: $1,100.
Then, after the mattress decision, we must choose the actual bed. Decisions, decisions...
mingaling
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5.10.2004 | Props
Have to say I love, love, love the new Blogger format. Love it.
mingaling
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5.09.2004 | To Mommy
Ma Ma,
Wo ai ni!
mingaling
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5.08.2004 | Big Mouth Strikes Again
My sister and brother in law ran into the X a few nights ago. She apparently let it "slip" that I was moving to Atlanta with dog to live with the boy.
I'm not upset that he knows this, really. But at the same time I'd rather he not know anything about me, my plans, or anything else for that matter since I do not reciprocate. People will occasionally give me updates on his life, like when he had to be an usher at his best friend's wedding because his wife-to-be hated him. Or the fact that he hardly aspires to anything but working at a Hooters. Or the fact that he has nightly drinking binges... ugh, see! I hate the fact that people think I care to hear this stuff, as if it makes me feel better knowing he's a schlub. I already know this, thankyouverymuch. I think it only guilts me more that people assume I still care. Is it really that bad to not care at all?
mingaling
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5.07.2004 | Whatthefuckever
I am a wreck.
I am crying. I am hungry. I am pissed off. I have a migraine. I am tired. I hate being in Orlando. I was whining on the phone with the boy. The same boy who had a dozen roses delivered to me within 2 hours after our conversation.
I must have really been bitchy.
mingaling
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5.5.2004 | Curve Ball
The evil class threw me for a loop last night.
I made their final exam optional. Not due to my benevolence, mind you, but the last thing I want to do is grade more papers. Their final papers were also due, but they could have easily just emailed them. I walked into class expecting to see only a few of them, but instead there were many who stopped by to say goodbye.
I'm going to miss those bastards.
mingaling
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5.06.2004 | Eye of the Tiger
Running is stupid. It's hot, it hurts, and it takes a long time getting used to. The boy has gotten back into running, and the idiot that I am agreed to do join him in this game.
However, there is a slight difference in our skill levels. The boy has run a marathon. Read: 26.2 MILES. I, on the other hand, have run down the block and back. Not that his encouragement wasn't sweet or anything.
Boy: You should ease into it. Walk 4 minutes, then run 2.
Me: Who's supposed to time me?
Boy: You are. Take the dog with you.
Me: But I don't have a stopwatch, and the wheezing will get in the way of me watching the second hand.
Boy: Baby...
Me: And the dog?! I'm not carrying her when she quits.
Boy: You'll feel so much better afterwards.
Me: I'm hungry. Cake would make me feel much better.
Boy: sigh
I did manage to run for more than a block, and the dog didn't quit, but the timing thing is stupid. I just ran a block, walked a block, and managed to go at a faster pace than my 65 year old neighbor.
Went the distance,
Now I'm not gonna stop
mingaling
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5.05.2004 | Now That's What I Call Customer Service
The boy ordered a cd from CD Baby.
Here's their response:
-----Original Message-----
From: CD Baby loves the boy
Sent: Tue, 4 May 2004 17:53:37 -0700
To: the boy's email
Subject: Boy - Your CD Baby Order! (#)
Boy -
Thanks for your order with CD Baby!
Your CD has been gently taken from our CD Baby shelves with
sterilized contamination-free gloves and placed onto a satin pillow.
A team of 50 employees inspected your CD and polished it to make sure
it was in the best possible condition before mailing.
Our packing specialist from Japan lit a candle and a hush fell over
the crowd as he put your CD into the finest gold-lined box that money
can buy.
We all had a wonderful celebration afterwards and the whole party
marched down the street to the post office where the entire town of
Portland waved 'Bon Voyage!' to your package, on its way to you, in
our private CD Baby jet on this day, Tuesday, May 4th.
I hope you had a wonderful time shopping at CD Baby. We sure did.
Your picture is on our wall as 'Customer of the Year'. We're all
exhausted but can't wait for you to come back to CDBABY.COM!!
Thank you once again,
CD Baby, the little CD store with the best new independent music
mingaling
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5.5.2004 | Reasons I Need a Personal Assistant
I know that we can't always avoid the mundane details of everyday living, but there are just some things I can't stand having to waste time dealing with.
Like the mysterious $5.80 charge on my cell phone bill for text messages. Funny, I figured since I only had 161 messages that would be covered by the 300 FREE messages I get every month. So I have to call and deal with them on the phone, which of course took no less than 20 minutes to figure out why they started charging me for messages after I INCREASED my phone plan.
Or the past due notice from a creditor, dated 4/25. Funny, since I paid them $500 on 4/1. Took eight calls back and forth to clear that one up. And to quote them: "Oops." Yes folks, the explanation was "oops." Time wasted: 4 days.
Or the fact that I couldn't log into online banking for a week and had to call tech support. Seems that there was a little glitch. On their part. Of course. Time wasted: 15 minutes.
Or the fact that I should be working at my job instead of looking for a new job while at said job. Time wasted: forever.
Or the fact that my printer just ran out of black ink and I forgot to order extra. Thankfully they ship fast and free. Time wasted: 3 days without printing.
Worst of all, the only candidate for the personal assistant position has no thumbs.
mingaling
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5.04.2004 | Sweet Jesus
There is a god after all.
mingaling
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5.4.2004 | Round 3
Yeah, you've heard about it. It's all the rage and everyone's doing it, and I'm attempting to do it (again).
The first time was a bust, as I was about 3 days into Phase I and got a nasty cold. That would be okay, but seeing that you can't have any fruit or fruit juice during Phase I it was a bit difficult. Difficult as in "I will reach into your chest and pull out your still-beating heart if you don't get me a glass of o.j. now" type of difficult.
The second time was, well, let's just say I don't call myself a carb whore for nothing. It was a refreshing beer, too, damnit.
But this time is going to be different. I stepped on a scale the other day and I'm convinced that this needs to be done. The boy is even going to do it, so we'll see who beats who in this little contest. I officially started Phase I yesterday, and I must say it wasn't too difficult. Of course I had to schlep on over to the market to pick up things I could actually eat, but this handy-dandy guide was helpful. I made a pretty good turkey chili and sprinkled some fat-free cheddar on it (despite it's neon orange color it seemed to be okay). I snacked on cashews and a mozz stick. Not too shabby.
Day 2 (today), however, is making me realize a few more things about this diet:
1. Phase I sucks. No if's, and's, or but's about it. I hate not having fruit, especially with the gorgeous strawberry season here.
2. Not being allowed to have soy blows, although the non-dairy fat free creamer is a decent substitute for now.
3. I can't find Laughing Cow Light anywhere anymore. All the SBD'ers are hoarding them, I'm sure of it. Fuckers.
4. I don't really like eggs or quiche, and apparently that is the only thing that's not limited during this phase. Figures.
5. Why does Whole Foods only make the Feta Garlic Dip on the days I don't get there?
6. I hate celery. I love carrots. Celery is allowed, carrots are not.
7. No alcohol for TWO WEEKS. Fuck.
I guess we'll see if round 3 is the last.
mingaling
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5.03.2004 | Waterworks
There are criers and non-criers, and I'm definitely a crier. I used to be pretty stoic and made sure no one knew about this. My family knows, of course, and also most of my past significant others. I was taught that crying was a sign of weakness, so I kept it hidden from people and was ashamed to let them see me tear up.
The crying varies greatly. There's the cathartic cry which usually occurs watching a movie or reading a book. Best bet is Love Story. I mean, two people find true love, then girl dies and boy is left alone. Or Cold Mountain, when they're finally reunited only to have him die and the only thing she has left of him is his unborn child. Sniff. TV shows like Emergency Vets also make me sob. It's often a whirlwind of tears from dog hit by car, brought to clinic, to surgery, to recovered tri-pod runs and plays in new adoptive owners' yard.
There's the longing cry, which does happen often. I miss my father so much. It used to be so painful to face every day after his death. Little reminders of the emptiness in our family would cause such overwhelming pain. Although it's been seven years, it never goes away. Missing the boy makes me weep, too. I do it on the phone, and I do it in person, usually on the day he leaves. I'm rather red-faced, puffy and snotty when it occurs, so it's not pretty either. Worst of all, it makes him so sad. He always leaves with a tear stained shirt - right at the shoulder, about 5 feet 7 inches high.
There's the cry of fear and self-pity, which I was doing quite often when things weren't so clear. There's the pity in wondering what I could have done to avoid the emotional and financial wreckage of the X. There's the fear of the unknown future. There's the pity in not finding a job right away, questioning my self-worth. There's the pity in being stuck here when you only want to be somewhere else with someone else.
There's the hormonal cry, where PMS and mood swings and every other demon join forces to make me unbearable. Little explanation for this one.
But after all that, there are the happy cries, tears of joy that rain down my cheeks when I can't express it any other way. Those happen when your family has wonderful news. Those happen when your friends show you more support than you ever expected from them. Those happen when the boy tells you he loves you and thanks you for letting him be a part of your life.
So, Hi. My name is Lori, and I'm a crier.
mingaling
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5.02.2004 | Bittersweet Relief
Finals week, grades due Friday... the end of the semester is finally here.
Yes, there are the last minute phone calls requesting extensions (count 3 today) and the crying and whining over their grades: "Did I really have to write all the papers?" But after Thursday, my nights are mine, all mine! No more students sleeping through my Aristotelian Forms lecture. No more horrible papers to grade and nonsensical student emails to read. And finally, I get to watch tv again and know what the hell people are talking about.
But this is my last semester of teaching here, and it surprises me that I'm going to miss these knuckleheads. I got some sweet emails and phone calls wishing me luck in Atlanta. They say their writing has improved (it better have or I'd fire myself). Most importantly, they loved my class (despite it being required - poor dears) and are sad to see me leave.
I think I am, too.
mingaling
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4.29.2004 | Midtown Madness Recap
~We spent the week playing house at our generous friends' condo.
~The boy and I have decided to get a Springer Spaniel, much like Luna.
~I toured around the city, looking at various neighborhoods and sights.
~Met the inimitable hollismb for dinner, who was a champ to not only meet a complete stranger, but her 7 friends as well.
~Had drinks with the boy and JC at the Georgian Terrace.
~Shopped and found that the best music magazine on earth is based right in the heart of Decatur.
~Enjoyed the best southern soul food in town.
mingaling
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4.28.2004 | Nice Try
I got an interview!
It was a great organization, and the job sounded like a perfect match. Well, perfect until I realized that the work hours would be 1-9 PM daily. Not ideal. But it was a good practice run since I haven't had an interview in years. She was enthusiastic about me, at least.
Meh.
mingaling
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4.23.2004 | Groveling
... And how can I protest
your total lack of interest?
- Soltero
Girl wants job.
Girl applies for jobs. Many, many jobs.
Girl follows up with phone call to appropriate job-giver.
Job-giver says, "Sure. Let's meet. Will call with time."
Girl waits.
And waits.
And calls back.
And waits again.
Seriously people, wtf?
mingaling
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4.23.2004 | Good to Go
Love my dermatologist. Even if he does pat me on the head.
Before:
Ick
After:
mingaling
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4.22.2004 | Fringe Benefits
The benefit of teaching college students is that you get a lot of freedom to plan your lessons.
One of my major areas of concentration is art censorship in the modern period. The Mapplethorpe lesson went over quite well, if I do say so myself. It certainly kept them awake at the very least.
NOTE: As I warned my students, these are explicit artworks.
mingaling
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4.22.2004 | The Adventure
Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies. - Aristotle
There were no silences when we first spoke.
We poked around each other's strangeness and, while fascinated, were eager to thrust our newly charged identities toward each other. Despite the initially poor phone connection, we lingered through words and laughs and memories, longing for more time before it became apparent that we would get past that regardless.
Prior to Saturday, the words swirled around as I imagined him in his enlightened self-confidence and the heart-melting smile that his photos conveyed. There were the initial pangs of nervous excitement, only to be followed by the anticipation of what could possibly come out of this meeting. And I, sitting at the bar with a drink in my usual m.o., wondering if there would ever be an end to the disappointment was met with sheer surprise... he was exactly as he had seemed. Yet, at the same time, standing in front of me was something more than what I had thought was just newly caught fun and excitement. He was good. A good, warm heart who had been through the rough much more than the fairway. The sincerest pair of eyes ever set upon one's facade. And those lips... those lips! Those lips which were warm and soft in the cold night's air.
Our worlds came together faster than usual. Irregularity became regular, and we were seemingly inseparable. There were times we could not believe it; how could it be so good? The thoughts questioned: Is this right? Could it be? So soon? Finally our eyes met with their declaration that this was it. And it was said. It had to be said. Again and again.
And although our days are filled with the same familiarity of happy, loving words, there is still a newness to each moment that brings even more joy into our lives daily, much like our first meeting. Though apart physically, we'll be reunited soon enough, as we're never apart spiritually. Every day is such an adventure... our adventure.
mingaling
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4.22.2004 | G-Mail
I'm kind of digging Google's new free email program (with 1000 MBs of space). That is all.
mingaling
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4.21.2004 | Office Space
Things in my office that keep me occupied (other than work):
- photos of the boy (aww...)
- magnetic dart board
- tv & vcr
- Namco joystick, including PacMan and Dig Dug
- the internet
- really good music vs. the crap the secretary plays
- my cell phone
- a window to watch the lovely weather roll by
- the shops down the street (Starbucks, the Gap, Pottery Barn, Red Marq, Restoration Hardware, etc.)
- you people
mingaling
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4.20.2004 | So, about yesterday...
Yeah, I know I was complaining about money. I now have two gorgeous interviewing suits, but lo and behold, I have no interviewing shoes.
People, shoes are important - just ask the authority on them. I also have gigantic feet, making shopping for cute shoes a bit more impossible. All but one pair of my shoes are open-toe (it is Florida), and I can't justify wearing boots to an interview. So just imagine my surprise to find the perfect pair of interviewing shoes in my size! They were also having a "buy one-get one half off" sale, so I had to get another pair of cute mules. Two pairs for $20.75! It was a shoe EMERGENCY. I swear.
mingaling
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4.20.2004 | Plugs
I love Soltero. Thanks to the fabulous Sarah Brown, I've gotten addicted to these guys. One night I got a wild hair and sent a note to Tim, asking him if and/or when they planned to come to Orlando. Kindly, he responded to my quasi-groupiesque ways and we emailed back and forth about venues, dates, etc. Finale? Tim goes acoustic July 9th at Stardust. Yay Tim!
He also asked if I knew any local singer/writers that would like to team up. The tinkering began in my noggin and remembered Kris Nichols, who feeds my caffeine habit quite often. Pitched my idea to him today while scamming a free latte, and voila! He loves it.
So boys? Get together. Contact information has been given. Go!
I'm like a band match-maker. Rock on.
mingaling
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4.19.2004 | Hey Big Spender
I am broke. Not broke as in "can't pay my bills" (have already done that), but am broke in the "got no cash - drinks are on you" sort of broke.
Frustrated about this, of course. I am the most frugal person I know, yet have little to show for it. Most of the cash goes to paying off debt, which is basically paying off the sins of my past (and my x's - bastard). So yes, I am a good girl to do that, but this month has been painful!
April extras:
$300 = IRS.
I love how I make 1/3 of what most of my friends, but I have to pay the IRS? Fuckity fuckity fuck.
$250 = Two interview suits.
Going from fat to skinny to midsize can be quite costly.
Approx. $200 = Surgery.
I haven't gotten the bill, but the sucky college insurance guarantees that.
$80 = Mom's birthday gift. The queen of material goods will have no less.
$350 = Two plane tickets to Atlanta. The boy's coming down several times, and it's about time I chipped in. Plus I need to hunt people down and demand a job, pronto.
UGH. At least I'll look swanky in my outfits, eating mac 'n cheese and ramen for the next week.
 
mingaling
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4.18.2004 | Faux Float
Crave, crave... sweet tooth craving at midnight. Damn it.
Results: rootbeer float. No, no, a soy ice cream and diet rootbeer float.
Sigh. It just isn't the same.
mingaling
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4.18.2004 | You Couldn't Possibly Begin to Understand
I get to celebrate Christmas and Chinese New Year. The boy calls me "Asiacan." I get to check the "other" box when filling out a form. But there are some things that the cultural divide brings out.
For instance, I'm not going to buy rice from an American grocery store. Come on, you call that rice? Those are broken little knock-off grains. Plus, it doesn't even count if it comes in anything less than a 30-pound bag. And soy sauce, that's meant to be bought in quantity, people. It's normal for me us to have a gallon at home.
I won't eat bacon and eggs for breakfast. Nope, that would be for dinner. Breakfast would be rice, or a rice bun, or something ricey. Okay, maybe I'll settle for a pancake. And there was soy milk way before Silk.
Shoes need to be taken off very, very soon, if not immediately, when coming into the house. My mother's voice still echoes the guilt I feel when I walk to my room with my shoes still on.
There are many buddhas in the house (and I'm Unitarian - go figure). There are bowls of oranges, even though I won't necessarily eat them. During holidays (yeah, I'll slip and call them lucky days) there will be many red and gold signs hung on doorways, etc., even if they clash with the pastel faux Pottery Barn motif. It's just going to happen.
mingaling
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4.17.2004 | Miami Conference: A Photo Essay
A technology in education conference... what could be more exciting?
1. We worked. Well, sort of.
2. After working so hard, we thought we'd treat ourselves to a nice Peruvian dinner.
3. We also took in the grand Latin tradition of Jai Alai. I was a hit at the fronton.
4. There were some sights to be seen on South Beach, and some bargains, too.
5. We also managed to take in some of the local architecture and colorful scenery.
6. We even made a stop at the Bacardi museum.
7. And finally, on our way back to town, we stopped at Vizcaya. We strolled around the gorgeous gardens and made a quick call to the boy to let him know they do weddings.
mingaling
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4.15.2004 | Miami
Convertible = good.
Sunburn = bad.
Ouch.
mingaling
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4.13.2004 | Snail Mail
I always loved getting mail.
Before the era of email came to fruition, I was the eager one who always went to the mailbox. I was always disappointed at government holidays. I loved the thrill of opening the box and sorting through the good and the unimportant. Even after growing up and getting {gasp} bills and such, this thrill never subsided. It's the first thing I do after coming home every day.
Even better than just getting mail is getting a handwritten note or card, especially from good friends. Email is great. It's quick, cheap, and can be done on the spot. But a handwritten card is a little token of friendship that's tangible. You can touch it, smell it, and keep it. I've sent several cards, packages, and other notes to the boy since he moved up to Atlanta. He thinks they're sweet, but does not understand the thrill of receiving like I do. However, I am quickly discovering the thrill of sending them to him.
mingaling
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4.13.2004 | The Bad Girl Does Good
Confession: I've been arrested. Granted, I was a wee one (9th grade) when it happened, but it's definitely a scarlet letter to bear. The reason? Thievery. Or plain ol' shoplifting if you please. A group of girls with nothing better to do go to the mall without any better reason than to kill time away from our parents. I knew one girl in the group, and the other two were friends of her from another school. They were the cool snarky girls that always had the best outfits (fishnets and plaid skirts - how freaking cool) and all the cigarettes you could smoke. They were the ones who always had boyfriends and could stay out all hours and do all kinds of things with them. And then there was me, the dork.
What did we steal? Underwear. Seriously. We apparently thought it would be grand to go in and steal overpriced bras for our non-existent cleavage. And we almost got away with it, too, that is until we went into a cheapy jewelry store and one of the girls got busted for stealing a ring. The next thing I knew we were cornered in a little room in the back of the store and told to empty out everything we had, including the bras. The mall cops then called the real cops, who then called in a girl from VS to verify that we had been in the store. The whole time I just sat there with my head spinning, unable to really say anything. The whole situation had spun out of control and I wondered to myself why the "no" button was out of order. We got handcuffed together and were driven to the station downtown. I have to say the officer was really nice. My dad, on the other hand, was not so much. I went home with him, and my mom let me have it.
I was sick to my stomach and couldn't go to school the next day. However, the day after was like walking into a movie set. Everyone knew what happened, and to my surprise they looked down upon me for it. It wasn't cool (duh, I got caught). I was embarrassed. No, I was mortified. Even my best friends had no idea what to think. My parents forbid me to see the one girl I went to school with. I didn't really want to see her at that point either .
My 'sentence' was to attend a series of 'scare them straight' seminars at a local high school. I also had to write a letter of apology to both the stores. Lastly, I had to do 30 hours of community service. I picked a local community center a few miles from my house and worked out a schedule of about 6 hours a week after school. The center had a low-income daycare facility and other various services. My job mostly consisted of washing tables in the lunch room and sweeping the floor and wiping the window sills in the rec room.
However, on some days I got to pick up around the playground while the kids were out there. The kids ranged in ages from 4-7 and were as cute as could be. They would see me quite often for those 5 weeks, and they got pretty used to asking me questions about anything they could think of. The best thing about those kids is that when they looked at me, they didn't see a thief. Instead, they saw the person that I wanted people to see. After my community service hours were fulfilled, I went in to my supervisor and asked if I could stay on and continue to help. She agreed, and I kept working there for a few more months. I would usually watch the kids in the playground and help the other daycare workers. I got really used to the kids, and learned all their names and traits. It was then that I knew I wanted to work with kids and possibly teach. I guess that's a heck of a silver lining.
mingaling
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4.11.2004 | Real Friendship
Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting the lovely Jessica. She drove up to meet me at the boy's apartment (which I had taken over at the last minute) for a girls night. She also looks remarkably like a brunette Alicia Silverstone. We gabbed, we dined, and we gabbed some more about life, divorce, and boys (of course). It's amazing how much we have in common, and it's fun to finally put facial expressions to the quirky words we utter. We topped off the morning with brunch and mimosas, and I look forward to making the trip down to visit her in the near future.
When I spoke to the boy this morning about meeting J, it didn't occur to me that a non-blogger or non-forum junkie would find it odd to meet someone online first, then in "real life." He said he didn't think it was weird, but that he didn't really know many people who met others through said method. I quickly reminded him that's how we met in the first place!
I have my core group of "real life" friends, but the friends I've met online are considered just as dear. Over five years ago to the day, while planning the wedding to the x, I met a wonderful group of women who I've talked to on a daily basis, which, sadly, is much more than I do with certain real-life friends. They've been the most supportive, funny, and enlightening friends I could ever have asked for. We run the gamut in age, occupation, ideology, and backgrounds. We have met several times over the years in various places such as DC, Tampa, and NYC (and shall do so in Chicago in October). I've met their husbands and children. We've been through weddings, births, divorces, and deaths together. And there aren't any others that I would rather go to get a straight, non-bullshit opinion.
I've met so many fabulous friends online, whether through comments or linking or what have you, and I look forward to meeting more of you.
mingaling
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4.09.2004 | Holy Shit
Oh my god, it's true!
mingaling
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4.9.2004 | Wanderlust
Itch, itch, itch... I am itching to get out of here.
Next week - Miami (with D)
Late April - Atlanta (the boy)
May - Atlanta (the boy) and Stone Mountain (boy and friends)
September - NYC (the boy) and Long Island (wedding)
October - Chicago (girls weekend!)
Must think of things for June - August...
mingaling
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4.9.2004 | Make It Stop
Is it so wrong for me to want to block my mom from sending me emails?
Don't get me wrong... I love my mom. She's a whackjob, but I love her. However, I've come to regret the day that I shared my email address with her. Seriously, is there no end to the mass amounts of forwarded emails of cheery make-you-smile messages with awful music and dancing graphics? And the jokes... does my mom even understand ImClone and Martha? I doubt it.
Click (IF YOU DARE) and get ready to "enjoy."
She has no idea who I am.
mingaling
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4.08.2004 | Hell Hath Frozen Over
The lesson for the evil class was Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Now, any other class would not pose a problem, however the evil one doesn't apprehend the concept that they should have some concept of the educational process (at least how it applies to them).
I banged my head on my desk for a while trying to come up with a concept to get them to understand that this whole allegory (which I then had to define) was their life in Plato's words, and then it hit me... posterboard and markers!
Yes, folks, I've reverted back to my middle school teaching days. I pulled out some posterboard, handed out markers, and made them draw their own little caves and the obstacles that they've had to overcome in their path to education. They got into groups, they shared experiences, they drew conclusions... my god, they learned.
Holy shit.
mingaling
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4.8.2004 | Good Stuff
I'm having a craptastic day.
Well, I was having a craptastic day. You know, those days where everyone gets on your nerves. When you hate everything they're talking about on NPR. When all you can hear in the office is the secretary's Linda Ronstadt cd (the really bad Disneyesque years). When your boy lives 470 miles away and you need a hug. When no one in Atlanta will hire you. When you want a drink, and it's only 10 am.
But then D comes in, listens to me vent, and hands me a present. Poof - bad day gone.
I love my friends.
****updated****
He hid another present for me in the fridge! Best.friend.ever.
mingaling
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4.8.2004 | Peeps
Let it be known that I hate marshmallows. In fact, I loathe them.
Now that we have that cleared up, it's super Peep season and all the scary little colorful marshmallow creatures are out in full force. They're at the grocery store, the drug store, the coffee shop... they even sell make-your-own Peep machines at toy and craft stores. I can not escape the Peeps!
They sit in neat little rows in their packaging, with their little food color-dotted eyes glaring at you, whispering their silent "Peep Peep!" anthem to beckon you to come closer.
I am afraid. Very afraid.
mingaling
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4.07.2004 | Text from the X
This morning around 9 am:
"I was just thinking about you - and wanted to say hi."
Hmmm... you should have been doing that before. Loser.
mingaling
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4.06.2004 | Announcement
Went to the store and fell in love. It's name? Whole Wheat Sunflower Loaf.
That is all.
mingaling
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4.6.2004 | Fox Day
I had a million things to do this morning, and oversleeping wasn't one that I had planned. I busted ass to get my car to the shop, ran another hundred errands, and finally got into the office around 11 am. And of course, what better day than to declare it Fox Day.
Fox Day is a tradition on campus that goes back to the late '50s when the president of the college at the time thought it would be a good idea to give everyone a break, students and staff, and get the college community together. One president put a freakish statue of a fox wearing some blue blazer (although our mascot is technically a Tar, which is a whole other story) on the main lawn and hence the name. So every spring, the current president surprises everyone by ordering the fox statue to be placed on the lawn and announcing Fox Day.
We usually find out through a campus email or voicemail message. You notice all the kids gathering around the main lawn. You see the dining hall staff set up for the massive bbq that they serve to everyone on campus. All classes get cancelled and offices close (or most do, at least). It is a nice tradition. At least the college emphasizes that familial aspect that small private colleges like to foster. However, I'm still working in my office and taking another day to comp. Oh, and I still think the fox is queer.
mingaling
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4.05.2004 | Random Weirdness
Got a parking ticket today. In a place in which I park every single day without incident.
Saw my favorite teller at the bank the other day. She had heart failure and was out sick for a while. Like her HEART STOPPED BEATING heart failure. I had no idea.
The bank charged me $90 in fees for not having overdraft. I went in and told them I should already have that, and they agreed and actually refunded my money. I didn't even have to start crying.
I found mold on the loaf of bread I bought last night. Of course this was after I ate my sandwich this afternoon.
My friend paid me back. More than I expected. In cash.
The furbeast didn't want a treat this morning.
mingaling
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4.04.2004 | The Fake Bake
So after the whole holy-moley thing, I guess I should stop the further destruction of my epidermis by avoiding the harsh rays of the sun and tanning booths and 'fake bake' with self-tanner. And why do I need the tan? Well, my interesting heritage also colors me a lovely shade of yellow reminiscent of jaundice when pale. Need I say more?
The problem, though, is that I'm a klutz with it. Yes, I know the all the rules: avoid too much in the elbows and knees, use a bit of lotion, exfoliate like crazy... but I still come out looking like a bengal tiger. I've also tried the new spray booth tans, which seem like a pretty good idea. You climb into this aluminum looking chamber, don a sexy plastic shower cap, and enter an inner chamber. There you close your eyes and self tanner mists out of little pores in the chamber, covering you in it. You exit, smooth it over any missed spots, and are instantly bronzed. Yeah, but of course I still managed to get a big fat stripe on the back of one of my calves. Not to mention how expensive those visits cost - yikes.
But that price isn't close to what spas would charge to do it right - an exfoliation and self-tanner application. Sounds fantastic, but so unrealistic. When I become independently wealthy, I will hire an Oompa Loompa to exfoliate me and lather me with self-tanner to avoid this. Just not in his shade of bronze.
mingaling
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4.02.2004 | Hallelujah!
Best thing heard today: "Babydoll, I'm coming home!"
T-minus 5 hours until the boy comes back in town for the weekend.
And no, there will not be blog updates until Monday.
mingaling
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4.01.2004 | Mingaling Cancer Scare, Part II (or Mole-licious)
Will it ever end?
While in South Beach with the boy, we were, um, frolicking about when he observed that one of my cute little spots was a bit weirdly shaped. I've had this spot for a lengthy time. In fact, I can't remember a time without it. It has grown, but I couldn't really tell you if it did it on its own or just grew because I grew. Regardless, the boy made me promise three times to go get it checked out asap.
The thing about dermatologists is that they treat you like livestock. You feel like horse being inspected inch by inch while wearing a very stylish paper sheet. Arms get lifted, zits inspected, and you're rolled over more than a few times. Then comes the news:
Doc: "We're going to have to remove that."
Ming: "Oh, okay. How do you plan on doing that?"
Doc: "We make an incision around it."
Ming: "Um... you mean cut it out?"
Doc: "Yes. It's the only way to have the pathologist..."
Ming: "... like cut? Like with a knife? Like cut off a piece of my stomach from the outside?"
Doc: "You'll have a local anesthetic."
Ming: "You mean like sticking a needle in me, then cutting off a piece of me?"
Doc: "You have nothing to worry about. Let's just wait until the test gets back after your surgery on Wednesday."
Ming: "Can we make it after happy hour?"
The offending spot
mingaling
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3.31.2004 | Aaarrggh!
"Yes, your research topic and thesis are due tomorrow."
"Yes, that's what the email reminder was about."
"Yes, this was discussed in class. Twice, even."
"Yes, this was also mentioned in your class calendar and syllabus."
"Yes, it would be grand if you read that since it took me a while to write it."
"Yes, I screen all my calls, including those from students."
And "yes, this is MY DAY OFF!"
Fuckers.
mingaling
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3.30.2004 | Panda or Puppy?
You pick (courtesy of Gothamist):
mingaling
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3.30.2004 | Fidel, Mi Amor
I am a staunch supporter of the Castro government in Cuba. Not because the last book I read was the Manifesto, nor is it my desire to instill a camouflage dress code, but for the only thing worth making this declaration: food.
I mean, without our lovely refugees building rafts out of plastic milk jugs and crossing the 90 miles to the southernmost tip, would we even have a Little Havana? I am blessed to have so many Cuban eateries around. If it were up to me to cook these delicacies, no one would eat them. My frijoles negros were a sorry mess, even after the re-measurement of the sofrito, but my rice was always perfect (go Chinese girl!).
But I yearn for this food like no other. You can't go wrong with arroz con pollo. I am absolutely convinced that nothing should go on a steak except chimichurri. Paella makes me swoon. I could live off of platanos. And the snacks! My god, the snacks! Chicharrones, mariquitas, masitas... oh how even just the delicious thought of you clogs my arteries.
Oh Florida, how I love how you've become the haven for political dissidents with great culinary tradition. And to all the Cubanos still abroad, I toast you with my can of Coco Rico: flee your country, come to freedom, and feed me some more!
mingaling
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3.30.2004 | Sasquatch
There are many benefits to having gigantic feet:
-You get to buy shoes through catalogs and online.
-If you find a pair you really love, you get to buy them in bulk since you don't want to miss out on a grand opportunity.
-Your boy will never get mad at you for buying Blahniks. I mean, seriously, who would go in and ask for Blahniks in an 11?
-You're so self-conscious about them that you can insist on weekly pedicures.
-You are excellent at competitive swimming and free diving.
-It's like having an extra pair of hands to pick things up.
-You have great balance. They're like built-in paperweights.
mingaling
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3.29.2004 | Her Sixth Sense
My mother takes "I told you so" (ITYS) to a whole new level.
She's always had a sixth sense. She's always been able to know what I'm feeling in a fleeting moment, but she also has premonitions that enable her to advise against certain behaviors. Like the one time I got arrested... oh, did I forget to mention that? Well, I can clearly remember her telling me to stay home that day. "Stay home, relax," she said. It was only a few hours later that my dad had to pick me up at the police station. I was so scared to face the ITYS that I literally threw up out of fear. Then there's the time I wanted to drive my first car over to my friend's and she said "no" for no apparent reason. Boom! Crash! My first accident. You'd think I'd learn. There have been many other moments in my life that she has proven this skill, big or small. I knew she never really liked my x, but I figured she just got used to him. When I called her the day I left, she already knew before I said a word.
As I become older, I see myself becoming more and more like her. My physical appearance is much like her's at my age, but my habits and quirks have taken on new meaning when I see their comparison. I never fully developed the ITYS, which may be due to the inheritance of my father's stubborness, but I see some small glimpses of it appear here and again. The boy is good and right, as is the move, and it's that ability that allows us to go against the normal pattern of our lives that may never have been pointed in the right direction. Though my 'old' self would never have characterized these decisions as being right, or even sane, I cannot fathom returning to that path of insecurity and self-doubt. In fact, it seems that that would be the insane approach. And, most interestingly, mom agrees.
mingaling
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3.28.2004 | Hee!
You're Babar the King!
by Jean de Brunhoff
Though your life has been filled with struggle and sadness of late,
you're personally doing quite well for yourself. All this success brings responsibility, though, and should not be taken lightly. Life has turned from war to peace, from damage to reconstruction, and this brings a bright new hope for everyone you know. These hopeful people look to you for guidance, and your best advice to them is to watch out for snakes. You're quite fond of the name "Celeste".
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
mingaling
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3.27.2004 | Atlanta Doesn't Love Me
So I'm not loved by everyone.
All I want is one freaking job. 25 scouting letters, 8 online applications, 7 cv's and teaching statements sent... and I got one lousy interview. Okay, I guess this isn't to be too surprising. I mean, I have a BA in Humanities and a Master's in Art History/ Philosophy. With those qualifications, I'd be the perfect barista!
But seriously, this is freaking me out. And the salary for a visiting professor at one of their prestigious institutions? Good lord. Anyone in the market for a kidney?
mingaling
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3.26.2004 | @#$@$#%#$%!
I've been paying off my post-divorce debt like a good girl. In fact, almost one-third of my pay goes into paying debt off. It's such a relief seeing the balances dwindle, and I thought it would be a good idea to get myself a new credit report to make sure things are peachy. Oh, indeed it was.
It seems that one account in which the X was given to task is past due. FOUR MONTHS past due. Of course, I had no idea as I don't even receive a bill or even know the account number of this merchant. After wiping off the latte that I so gracefully spit out after looking at this report, the worst part becomes apparent. The balance? $42.28. Yes, that's forty-two dollars and change. Half his bar tab, two lap dances, a bag of weed... apparently paying the bill wasn't a priority.
My first instinct is to call and scream at him. I ring him up and get the "this number is no longer in service" message. Seems like he didn't pay his cell bill, either. So I call the house, as I know he wasn't working when I drove past the Hooter's this morning, but no answer. Oh, and he's always been too cheap to get a machine or voicemail.
So I called Discover and paid the fucking $42.28, telling my sad pathetic story along the way (at least they waived the $5 phone payment charge - the benefits of being a sorry loser). I constantly remind myself that this is it, this is the end, the boy is fantastic and there will never be another X, but why, why, why is it that 8 months of divorce can't MAKE HIM GO AWAY?
mingaling
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3.25.2004 | "My Family Likes You More Than They Like Me"
I'm apparently the hot topic of conversation at both homes of boy's parents.
The boy says they only want to discuss me at the dinner table. Questions revolve around when I will arrive in Atlanta. His dad wants to play me at golf. His stepmom and mom have taken up task to find me a job, his mom even going so far as to offer to get me one at the state's Republican headquarters. Shudder. How long do you think it would take them to realize under my thinly veiled facade that they were hosting a freaking liberal? Don't they have left-wing sniffing dogs for that?
No matter, as they all demand that I get there as soon as possible... job or no job. Being loved... this is the beginning of a very good trend.
mingaling
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3.24.2004 | Missing
Living without the boy is dumb. I gave it 24 hours, but I'm so against it. Sigh.
But he did send me these today:
Love you, babe.
mingaling
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3.24.2004 | Classy
Only in Florida do you get to see this on your way to work:
mingaling
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3.23.2004 | Reasons why the Furbeast is cooler than I am
She is one brave chica. Runs in front of cars, stands in the way of vacuums, and will eat anything that won't bite you back.
She can pull off an asymmetrical ass. Or would that be assymmetrical? She has one of these on one cheek, but flaunts it like it's nobody's business.
She can live on love. Literally. I love her, therefore I give her crap. I love her A LOT, therefore I give her more crap. You get the picture.
She isn't as good at math as I am. But then again, she doesn't need to be, and that's cool.
She never has to do her own hair and nails. Primped and pampered, baby.
She's epileptic, but hasn't had a seizure in over a year. That's good, because I turn into a fucking mess. She doesn't have time for that, yo'.
She stores nap hours and is able to wake without being a complete whore.
She is the only one who shakes it with me to the Copa. Tiara, feather boa, and all.
mingaling
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3.23.2004 | Not Following Bridal Etiquette
Seems that Jayson Blair can no longer count on future gigs writing wedding announcements. The Times' Vows column has done some fact checking (or, at the very least, was tipped off by a disgruntled bridesmaid) and found that the bride herself had supplied some misinformation:
Editors' Note: March 21, 2004, Sunday
A report on Feb. 15 about the wedding of Riva Golan Ritvo and Alan Bruce Slifka included an erroneous account of the bride's education, which she supplied.
Ms. Ritvo, a child therapist, did not graduate from the University of Pennsylvania or receive a master's degree in occupational therapy or a Ph.D. in neuroscience from the University of Southern California. Though she attended Penn for a time, her bachelor's degree, in occupational therapy, is from U.S.C.
mingaling
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3.22.2004 | 467 miles to Atlanta
467.38 to be exact. 7 hour drive from home. That's where the boy is moving. This morning.
I didn't say anything about this for a long time. He told me when I came back from the swamp. He sat me down and told me there was something he had to tell me, and then something he had to ask me, and no matter what I said he'd still love me. The company was transferring him to Atlanta. He didn't know when, but he knew it would be soon. And it was. When I met him there, he had a meeting with his future bosses and they gave him his starting date: March 23rd. There was talk of him quitting, staying, working it out, but in the end he's going.
Many a gal pal has said that when you know, you know. And according to Smitten, at that point there are No questions. No reconsiderations. Sometimes people just find each other and that's it... All the questions finally stop.
So what questions did he ask me? He asked me if I would go with him (soon), and if I would spend the rest of my life with him (starting now). And to both those questions, I wholeheartedly answered 'yes.'
mingaling
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3.17.2004 | So.Over.It.
I am not going to be productive today.
Example: I came in to work late. Two and one-half hours late.
Reason: Tired. Everything seemed to take 15 minutes longer. I needed to get gas. Good song on the radio.
E: Got to work. Sat down at desk. Checked email. Started reading Gawker.
R: I skipped Starbucks.
E: Started filing nails and painted them.
R: No time for a manicure before Miami trip.
E: I'm making a list of things to bring to Miami.
R: I'm a dork.
E: Leaving the office at 2pm to bake cupcakes at D's place.
R: He's hogging the oven for the party later this evening. The cupcakes are my offering.
E: After cupcakes, I'm going down the street for a martini and not coming back to the office.
R: I am the boss.
E: I'm going to spend lots of time outdoors today.
R: It's 74 and sunny, and this is what it looks like outside of my office:
mingaling
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3.16.2004 | Have dog, will travel (inspired by Smitten)
I haven't been home in many days. I've been schlepping my dog and bag of goods from place to place with the boy. We house/dog-sat for friends downtown for a few days, and the past couple of nights I've stayed at his place.
The furbeast loves this nomadic existence. She pants eagerly at the sign of me packing yet another week's worth of laundry into the car, signaling another extended stay with the boy. His place is quite a drive, but worth it. It's small, but cozy. His books line the walls on the gorgeous bookshelves he built himself, and a lifetime of photos and memories dot the walls. There is always a fresh bowl of water for the furbeast and an adjacent park for her necessities. Restaurants, coffee, etc. are within walking distance (a rarity in these parts).
I am very much at home here. There is a special place he keeps my toothbrush, and my bag of goods fits nicely in his room. In fact, we all fit nicely in his room.
mingaling
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3.15.2004 | Spongmonkeys
You've seen them in the Quizno's commercials.
I.cannot.get.enough.
mingaling
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3.14.2004 | Team Whackadoodle
It was inevitable. I did try to introduce him slowly, though. First my mom. Then mom and her boyfriend (T). Later my sister. But this weekend the boy was introduced to Team Whackadoodle en masse. Let's recap:
Saturday
My sister hosts a birthday party for my brother-in-law (BIL). BIL is, let's just say, a little more country than rock 'n roll. Actually, a lot more. Who else could get my sister into hunting? Imagine, a Ming, in the woods! She cooked up a nice feast, and there was the requisite Bud Light for all. The cake even had a girl in a bikini on top! How could you turn down this invite?
I'm not sure if cut off denim and Budweiser logo apparel were required, but the boy and I showed up looking very Abercrombie instead (Quote: "Is he one of them there met-ro-sex-u-als?"). Strike one. Later, when more guests arrived, we tried to mingle amongst them. The boy tried to interject a "I hear that's pretty nice" during a conversation about trucks, and I managed to smile during a conversation about line dancing. No one wanted to make eye contact with us (strike two). We were the freaks of this party.
Sunday
Family dinner. Team Whackadoodle in full force. The boy sees everything. T and BIL comparing pickup trucks. My sis and I talking about what makes us breakout. Mom wondering out loud why sis can't finish school like I did, thereby infuriating sis, who then sneers at me. Sis and BIL fighting over whether she should change her last name (they got married in August). BIL boxing up bones and scraps for the pups (not queer), but breaking them apart with his bare hands instead of getting a bigger to-go box (queer). T ordering cake for BIL's birthday, but eating the entire thing by himself. My mother ordering olives with her pina colada (I'm still disturbed by that).
But the boy was a real sport. He even managed to declare his love for me to the Team. Such a trooper.
mingaling
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3.13.2004 | Cold. Very cold.
So I finally finish Cold Mountain.
SPOILER
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Okay, page after page of corn mush, pulling heads off of chickens, housework, getting shot, and then he dies? WTF? I cried. Literally, to which the boy only shook his head. And what is with Ada and Ruby not looking anything like Nicole and Renee?
mingaling
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3.12.2004 | La Phew!
The procedure went well.
The boy insisted on going with me. I left him nervously waiting and walked into the regular rigamarole of measuring weight, blood pressure, and changing into my sexy paper robe. The standard additional 15 minutes of waiting for the doctor in an empty room then occurred. I usually pretend to sit still with an outdated magazine, but I have a bad habit of examining all the objects in the examining room. Everything looked so plastic-y or metallic-y, with strangely wrapped instruments and all sorts of scopes. And I haven't even mentioned the stirrups.
My gyno finally arrived. He is an odd sort of chap, with the soft face of one's grandfather and a penchant for NASCAR. He's good at chatting, though, and that sort of set me at ease. He rambled off many statistics and, sensing my anxiety, set straight to work. I'll spare you the details, but I do feel extremely comfortable having a conversation with this man whilst his head's between my legs. He was down there for a while, and, after counting 653 crevices in the ceiling tile, he declared there was no need for a biopsy. Giddily, I wiped up the entire tube of K-Y that he felt was necessary to use, threw on my clothes, and high-fived the boy in the waiting room. We chatted and giggled until the nurse shooed us out of there, then went to celebrate with french toast.
La phew!
mingaling
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3.11.2004 | Bad Boy Hall of Shame
Dating a winner just makes you cringe at the memory of dating so many losers. Blogdom is abundant with horror stories of boys gone bad. Here's just a brief recap of things I apparently did not notice while in the midst of dating said dorks:
M: Mr. Fancy-pants lawyer, but slept on an inflatable mattress instead of buying a new one. Made fun of me because of my meager income. Stayed at the Ritz-Carlton, but stole their bathrobes. His apartment was a filthy pit three sublevels below the worst frat house I've ever seen. Short. Oh, and his dog smelled like ass.
C: Casually dated, yet offended that I could possibly have found someone who wanted to be with me full time. Egotistical. And short.
M: Annoying. Called repeatedly for me to 'entertain' him while driving. Invited me over to meet a visiting friend, who later turned out to be his exgirlfriend, who later went psycho when I decided to spend the night because I wasn't fit to drive. He spent the night trying to appease her, then didn't understand why he couldn't see me anymore.
A: Self-centered. Self-righteous. Acted pretentious with all his material goods, but in reality they were all about to be repossessed. Stole money from me. Mommy's boy. And I think he's in the closet.
X: Declared on our 2nd wedding anniversary that he no longer wanted to be married. Later retracted. One word: Hooters. Threatened to leave me because I bought a car by myself with my own money. Declared on our 3rd wedding anniversary that he no longer wanted to be married. Later retracted after finding out I filed papers. Still sniveling about getting back together. Lame.
Really, you'd think I'd win a prize for this or something.
mingaling
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3.11.2004 | Freud would have a field day
I had another weirdo dream last night.
I went to visit a dear friend's home. While there, it was very cold and snowy. We apparently were walking around the house, then up the stairs, but as we walked up the stairs we saw something odd through the window looking out to the back yard. There was a helicopter carrying a giant lion in one of those transportable cage things. All of a sudden, the helicopter started having mechanical difficulties and crash landed in the backyard. The lion's cage crashed into the ground and all four sides fell over, releasing the lion. He jumped out, took a look around, and vanished into the neighborhood.
Oh, and I promise to lay off the crack.
mingaling
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3.11.2004 | Guilty Pleasures
-Eating peanut butter by the spoonful
-Cancelling all my plans to stay in bed to read this and that
-Leaving work early with D for midday martinis
-Taking 5 lactaid and getting a caramel sundae at the drivethru
-Using all the hot water with a really long shower
-Flirting with the Starbucks boys for free lattes
-Zoo Tycoon
-Dressing up the beast and dancing with her
-Using the decline button on my cell
mingaling
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3.10.2004 | Talking Shit
I am going to write about poop.
I was going to write about being pooped, but then I had to poop, and that just led me astray.
About every other day, almost exactly at 10 am, I need to poop. Of course, I am at work. That usually doesn't present itself as a problem, but my office only has one bathroom. My office staff also consists of 5 women and 1 man, all of whom are addicted to cola and coffee, so the bathroom gets its fair share of traffic. I can poop quickly if need be, but it just doesn't feel like a complete experience if you rush through it.
The toilet itself is an archaic specimen that rarely ever completely flushes if you use more than one square of toilet tissue. So, imagine the trials and tribulations of flushing after poop. As being the only "official" office pooper, I was often scorned by both my office and facilities management, who were often called out to un-poop the toilet shortly thereafter. Then I had a brilliant idea to run down the street and solve all our clog issues. It's not like my poop is larger than average or anything. I swear. Stupid toilet.
The pooping forecast is also hard to predict. I mean, all things should be good and well if you follow a healthy, balanced diet, right? However, there are some days when pooping is harder than others. I mean, you want to poop, but then nothing happens and you sit there unhappy feeling like you have a giant brick in your stomach. Then there are other times where you poop a lot thereby having to resort to other methods of restraint. I mean, seriously, does god have to hate us that much to have two things going on at once?
mingaling
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3.09.2004 | Damn You Girlscouts
Damn you and your cute little outfits. Damn you and your little smiles. Damn you and your stationed positions throughout every workplace or public area. Damn you and your pushers that come begging with order forms. Damn you and your delectable cookies. Damn you and the creation of reduced fat lemon pastry cremes. Damn you for making me think it's okay to have reduced fat lemon pastry cremes because they have 30% less lard than ordinary lemon pastry cremes. Damn you for making me believe this is a good reason to start eating lemon pastry cremes since I didn't before you came along. And, lastly, damn you for the crack that you put in these cookies so that I CAN'T STOP EATING THEM.
mingaling
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3.9.2004 | Baby's Still Got Sauce
L, the boy, and I went to see G Love last night at the Social. It was a great show. There was a mixed crowd, too, including newbies and longtime G fans. Of course the longtime fans were in the categorically 'old' group, but I couldn't help but think that I now belonged to them.
Do you remember those shows in your glory days? The ones where you drank cheap beer, smoked cloves, and didn't give a fuck if you only had one millimeter of breathing space between the person next to you? You wore what was cool, even if it was a flimsy t-shirt on a 40 degree night. You didn't care if the band started late because you were going to stay out all night. You jumped up and down and danced until you passed out, and after the show you went out again.
But when you're in the other group, things change. You breathe a sigh of relief when you find out they have Yeungling on tap. You hack and cough and wonder why the proposition that passed only outlawed smoking in restaurants, sneering at all the nicotine junkies. You're irked when anyone besides the boy touches you because they stink and YOU NEED YOUR SPACE. You have on a smashing outfit, but worry about others' feet stepping on your italian leather boots, plus have a coat that your boyfriend is stuck holding the entire show until you feel bad for him. You complain because it's too hot in the club and keep wondering why the doors open at 8 when the band doesn't start until 11:30, thinking about your 8:30 am meeting the next day.
Yet, when the band begins to play, you do jump around, and you do dance. You sway and sing and hold your boy. You have a fantastic time, and you go home to pass out (eventually). It seems that out of the many differences, there are few in the end.
mingaling
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3.08.2004 | Pet Names
While snarking at this, I've realized that I adore being called pet names. In fact, I get highly suspicious if said loved one does not address me in a schmoopy-like fashion. My father started calling me "doll" early on, and since then there certainly has been a variety:
doll
loveyhead (later converted to mrs. loveyhead)
honeygirl
sweetness
little ming
babycakes
schmoopy
princess
...and my current and all-time favorite: babydoll
And with what moniker does your love address you?
mingaling
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3.07.2004 | Spent
I am utterly exhausted.
Friday: Unbirthday lunch for D. Afterwork cocktails with sibling. Have dinner with sibling. Drive to sibling's house in the sticks to let beasts out. Drive to the boy's town with sister and introduce them for the first time, plus 11 friends from out of town over food and drinks. Drive sibling back home. Drive self home. Go to sleep around 3 am.
Saturday: Faculty presentation at 9 am. Run from there to student session at 11:30. Run from there to A & M's wedding. Meet B for drinks during gap between wedding and reception. Run to reception and have many more drinks. Do the required dance for all weddings. Have D come crash the reception and take me to his place to sober up. Drive out to the boy's place and meet up with visiting step-father, plus other 11 guests. Sleep around 2 am.
Sunday: Wake up at boy's. Get fed, read paper, then dash back home. Clean house, do laundry, and take nap before dying. Play with beast. Shower, change, and run to D's for Sopranos night. Stop at 3 (!) gas stations before I find one that a) has gas and b) takes a credit card. Scream out loud in parking lot of third station. Meet the boy and various friends at D's. Eat a great dinner, have good wine, and watch great shows until sleepy. Kiss boy goodnight. Drive home. Sleep at 1 am.
Maybe I'm too used to not having a life. It was a great weekend, though.
Cheers!
mingaling
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3.06.2004 | The Friday Five (a day later)
My brain is fizzled after a day of non-stop drinking, so we're going to do the Friday Five.
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Miss Gotuaco. Seriously.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Looney Tunes. I liked the variety, and it also helped with my background knowledge of classical music.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Stephanie Lawson.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Berry Burst Cheerios.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
It used to be to make a sandwich, grab a soda, and veg in front of the tv for a half hour. Now it's grab a beer and veg out in front of the computer for an hour.
mingaling
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3.05.2004 | Loose Ends
I've got some unresolved things to tie up, but it seems I have gained expertise in putting things off indefinitely. I know I have to do these things, but instead they sit undone and the reminders just eat at me on a daily basis.
I've procrastinated taking care of the following:
1. Getting a headboard for my bed. This is the bed I ordered and they cancelled my order without telling me, but sent the footboard and siderails anyway. They ran out of headboards (how do you run out of 1/3 of the bed you sell?) apparently. I got my money back but now I have 2/3 of a great bed. Yet I am too lazy to inspect the boxes to find the name of the manufacturer and contact them.
2. Getting money back from a certain friend. We planned a little trip and I went ahead and bought non-refundable plane tickets after it was confirmed. He rescheduled the trip due to a scheduling conflict, yet didn't tell me then and the dates were impossible for me to make. He was very apologetic, offered to compensate me for the tickets ($400), and finally did after a few months. However, when I deposited the check it bounced. I have talked to him since, but he never mentions this. It's an unfortunate situation, but I want the money.
3. Calling the x for some paperwork. I apparently owe the IRS some money, and if #2 is not resolved I am thinking the paperwork from the real estate taxes I paid last year would help. However, this involves actually communicating with said x, which I would rather only do after having all my body hair pulled out one by one.
4. I have to tell my mother something. Yes, this is a stupid thing to obsess about, but mother is so touchy about things that everything needs to be well planned and approached gingerly. The dragon lady does not tolerate surprise.
mingaling
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3.04.2004 | Bienvenido a Miami
The boy and I have planned a little SoBe getaway from this one-mouse town.
Sun, fun, and very little clothing. Mojitos anyone?
mingaling
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3.02.2004 | The Hunt
I'm looking for a new job. I do love my job, but it's time to go. I need more life, more excitement, more challenges, more control... a new scene, a new environment, and a new tax bracket.
But I hate searching for a new job. Granted, the challenge is interesting, but then come the interviews. I sit there, pretty as a poppy, speak intelligently, wow them with my experience for one so young, but my nerves are shaken to the core. I hate having to sell myself and convince them that I'm the best thing fate has ever delivered to their doorstep and that their students will forever thank them. I just hate talking about myself.
So, if anyone is absolutely convinced that I'm the only educator / non-profit coordinator that will do for them, send me an email.
mingaling
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3.01.2004 | Hotlanta
The visit went splendidly. A few highlights:
The boy: Greeted me at the airport with roses. Was a doll the entire time (as usual).
The mother: Sweet and southern as could be. She's already planning our wedding.
The stepfather: Nice, but quiet. Enjoyed driving his convertible Saab, though.
The puppy: Adorable little Westie. Watch for the fountain, though.
Stepsister #1: Funny, snarky, good fun.
The Crew: His friends are fantastic. So hospitable and fun. The boys are coming down for a boys' weekend this week and I will crash accordingly.
The dad: Very tall, dry humor, fucking hilarious.
The stepmother: So sweet, and a wicked sense of humor.
Stepsister #2: Gorgeous and so cute. Such a sweet girl.
Brother in law: So funny, and is such a handyman.
Atlanta: Love that town.
Oh, and btw... they love me, too.
mingaling
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2.27.2004 | Hasta
I'm off to Atlanta to meet up with the boy and meet the family. See you kitties when I return!
mingaling
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2.26.2004 | Losing It
While reading other blogs, I've noticed the many instances of listing the items in one's wallet. It never occurred to me how useful this may be.
I was off doing errands. Picked up some dog food, treats, and a new toy for the furbeast, then headed off to campus to get some papers graded. I pulled into a drive through to grab a salad, and that's when I noticed it.was.gone. Frantically, I looked through every inch of my car and realized that I had left my wallet in the shopping cart at the pet store. The shopping cart that was in the parking lot. I wish I could say I didn't flip out, but I did. I called them right away. They were so not helpful, therefore reducing me to tears. I was on the other side of town by now, so I did a quick turnaround. They told me to call back, but I got there quickly and found that some kind soul had found it and returned it to the store manager.
So, thank you dear stranger. And this is the beginning of my list:
Florida Driver's License. Bad picture.
Social Security Card
Two faculty ID's
Bank Visa checkcard, which I use too much.
Visa card, with a zero balance (finally)
Corporate AmEx card
Starbucks card. Don't leave home without it.
Health, dental, vision, and car insurance cards. I'm paranoid like that.
Library card, which I never use since I order books online.
Costco card
YMCA ID card for my membership which ends on Monday.
Photos of dog, family, students
Business cards
Receipt from Thai dinner with the boy last night.
Petsmart receipt
3 one dollar bills
mingaling
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2.24.2004 | Irksome
I am not a politico-want-to-get-on-a-soapbox kind of gal, nor do I address many things of that nature here. However, W is irking me to no end today.
I know all about the religious objections, and I know my religious stance is a bit liberal as well. Yet, no matter how sinful you think it is, there shouldn't be any legal consequences to prevent them from civil unions/ recognized marriages. Maybe I'm oversimplifying here, but what is so wrong about two people loving each other and making it official?
mingaling
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2.23.2004 | Is there a doctor in the house?
I got one of those unexpected calls from my OB/GYN today. The cheery nurse on the other end of the line quickly informed me that my pap came back 'abnormal' and I'd have to go in for a biopsy since I have a strain of virus that could affect my chances of having cancerous cells.
This isn't the first of these calls. Like the boy says, a woman's body is a scary, beautiful, and wicked mystery. I have had abnormal paps in the past, but this call was the one that set me off. I have had the unpleasant colposcopy. I have had the tissue punched out, ripped out, and tested under a watchful eye. Yet today I was not prepared for this news. The possibility of bad possibilities had been wiped from my memory over the last couple of blissful months. I was in no mood for this call.
D came in soon after and saw my ashy complexion. I couldn't really answer his questions, and he left worried. Needless to say, my first instinct was to call the boy immediately, but the words just wouldn't come out of my throat. What would I say? How could I say it? Was it worth the call? I finally managed to get a creaky "Hi baby, it's me... just wanted to say 'hi'... and... um... please give me a call when you can" out. He called back a short while later, and between sobs told him the story. He immediately left work and drove the half hour to my office to hold my hand. Never have I felt so completely supported by someone. Seriously.
I have an appointment in two weeks for the 'procedure.' Guess we'll see how it goes.
mingaling
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2.23.2004 | Meet the Parents
Yes, it's time.
The boy met my mom last night. She was on her best behavior. He was a bit nervous, and he asked if there were any cultural customs he needed to know about prior to the meeting. She's pretty americanized, so there's nothing especially odd besides the fact that she's a complete whackjob, but I digress...
This weekend is my turn. I will meet up with the boy in Atlanta. Later, I will meet both sets of parents and two out of three sisters. Nervous? Yes. However, the boy said that he would take any blame in case I set the home on fire or lose the pet. Love him.
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Edited to add: Mom has confirmed that he's "very nice." That was followed up with "how old is he," "how much money does he make," and "well, that doesn't matter as long as he's nice." Ugh.
mingaling
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2.19.2004 | NO, LA
After a tragically boring plenary session this morning, I hopped on the bus for an hour plus ride to Mardi Gras town.
Once there I did some touristy things, had a fantastic lunch, but mostly bar-hopped among the coolest establishments here, there and everywhere in between.
And no visit to N'awlins is complete without a parade and a little takeout.
mingaling
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2.18.2004 | Ka-ching
So I'm heading to my meeting this morning. As I wind my way through the hotel casino to get to the convention area, I notice that at 8:00 am there are at least 50 people playing games. Slots, Pai Gow, roulette, you name it.
I am gambling impaired. The sound of the one-armed bandits does not call, nor does the excited crowd at the craps table. The X was a gambler, and we profited richly from his skills at craps. In fact, while vacationing in the Bahamas, our entire trip was reimbursed by a few hours at the table. If I was to gamble, I would prefer the solitude of blackjack more than anything. Instead, I am the sad one at the bar with a $12 drink.
However, my money was well spent on another cause.
mingaling
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2.17.2004 | Live From The Swamp
I have traveled to the swamp in the name of higher education.
Some observations:
- Planes really shouldn't have propellers in this day and age.
- The Gulfport-Biloxi International Airport has a total of 4 gates. Despite this, I still had to wait 20 minutes for my bag.
- Many, many Waffle Houses and Home Depots. No Starbucks.
- There are no restaurants open in the hotel before 5 pm (other than the buffet).
- I am the only person in this hotel under 30.
mingaling
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2.16.2004 | I love the 80's: Toys
Jen Cheung's post reminded me of one of my favorite toys growing up: the Monchichi. Monchichi's were these little monkeys that acted like people and had some really snazzy outfits. I loved my girl and boy monchichi, and I also had monchichi t-shirts and coloring books.
I was also a big fan of the Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite series. However, it seems that Ms. Shortcake has gone pc by gaining herself a whole new, diverse crew rather than stick with the standard that included my favorite, Blueberry Muffin. I mean, seriously, the chick had blue hair that smelled like blueberries. What was cooler than that?
Another fascination incurred with Jem and the Holograms. Granted, I was still playing with dolls, but these were rock star dolls. Every doll came with a tape of not one, but two songs. The Holograms' arch enemies, the Misfits, also came with music and their hair-rock inspired angst was music to my ears. Believe me, they were truly outrageous.
mingaling
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2.15.2004 | Success
VDay weekend with the boy was a success. He loved the Schmoopy Mix and coca-cola cake. In return, I had breakfast served to me in bed (two days in a row), a lovely candlelit dinner cooked for me, a spa gift certificate, and the loveliest valentine I've ever received. What a champ. It was the most spendlid VDay ever.
mingaling
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2.13.2004 | Things I am currently loving
The boy, who continues to be so damn sexy even while ill
Diet Coke with Lime
My Tungsten's mp3 function
Toffee Hershey's kisses
The pink Kitchenaid Mixer
The iPod mini
Peanuts performing "Hey Ya"
Lost in Translation on DVD
Rosemount Estates Shiraz
"Linus and Lucy"
mingaling
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2.12.2004 | Revealed
The boy has revealed his plans for V-Day (not to be confused with VD). Apparently it was to be a surprise, but this busy girl's schedule has caused him some planning panic and he could no longer contain it.
So, there will be a long romantic weekend beginning this eve at Casa de Amor with wine and a feast of tree-dwelling jungle chickens served by the best I could ask for... the boy. Yum.
I'm making dessert as a surprise. Since he is southern (insert sexy drawl here), he is going to love this:
Coca-Cola Cake
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups sugar
3 tbsp cocoa
1 cup Coca-Cola
1 cup butter
1 1/2 cups miniature marshmallows
2 eggs -- beaten
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla extract
Frosting:
1/2 cup butter
1 tbsp cocoa
6 tbsp Coca-Cola
1 box confectioner's sugar -- (1 lb)
1/2 cup chopped pecans
Grease and flour a 9 x 13-inch pan and set aside. In a large bowl combine flour and sugar. In a saucepan combine the cocoa, Coke, butter, and marshmallows; bring to a boil. Combine the boiled mixture with the flour and sugar mixture.
In a separate bowl mix eggs, buttermilk, baking soda, and vanilla; add to the first mixture. Pour into prepared pan and bake at 350 for 35 minutes (or until cake tests done).
Frosting: In a saucepan, bring butter, cocoa, and Coke to a boil. Stir in the sugar and mix. Stir in nuts. Spread over the cake while both cake and frosting are still warm.
mingaling
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2.11.2004 | For My Schmoopy
The boy and I have not discussed the impending retail-oriented bastardization of love which we call Valentine's Day. Not that we haven't been inundated by reminders wherever we go or during whatever we watch or listen to.
However, it has been a long time since I've been with a new beau during this particular holiday, and the opportunity to seize it intrigues me. Therefore, instead of wining and dining (which we do regardless of the date) or hallmark cards (although Bond Girl and I agree that these these are fantastic), I have created a gift by doing what every dork girl does well: make a mix cd.
I therefore dub this gift The Schmoopy Mix (aka songs that emote better than I can):
Lovesong - The Cure
It's Oh So Quiet - Bjork
Yellow - Coldplay
Can't Take My Eyes Off of You - Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons
Come Away With Me - Norah Jones
Fever - Peggy Lee
Wrap Your Arms Around Me - Barenaked Ladies
Stickshifts & Safetybelts - Cake
Dreams - The Cranberries
Laundrydaydreams - Soltero
My Little Corner of the World - Yo La Tengo
Burned by the Sun - Beulah
Baby's Got Sauce - G. Love and the Special Sauce
At Last - Etta James
Have a Little Faith in Me - Jewel
New York City - They Might Be Giants
Let's Get it On - Jack Black (feat. Tenacious D)
mingaling
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2.10.2004 | A Tale of Two Classes
I teach two evening classes per semester at ye old institution of higher learning. After teaching for several years, it's easy for the classes to seem so similar and almost blend together. This semester, however, is proving to be an interesting dichotomy.
The first class (henceforth referred to as GOOD) is what every professor could only dream of having. They are attentive, interactive, challenging, and motivated. Their writing is on target, and I usually only have to suggest minor modifications. Our discussions are insightful and they are able to draw conclusions and infer relationships very well. Plus, they're all really nice and some are hilarious.
The second class (henceforth referred to as EVIL) is the complete antithesis of the other. They are eerily quiet, don't offer any insight, and are their only motivation is to see how quickly they can bolt when I've finished. They stare at me like deer in headlights when I ask open questions. They papers are horrid, and they are completely unable to grasp even the slightest concept of anything but the here and now (which doesn't help since it's ANCIENT humanities). Plato? Aristotle? Sophocles? I mean, what good are they to us since they're dead, right?
Although I am a good twenty-some years younger than most of my colleagues, I am not a newbie by any means. I am able to employ a variety of teaching styles and concepts, but this class has me confounded. My vat of instructional methodologies is almost tapped out and my monkey dance doesn't seem to be working. Plus, I have 30 EVIL papers left to grade, and although I've tried to avoid it for as long as possible they are incessantly calling out to me like a still-beating heart.
GOOD vs. EVIL. Hmmm, don't I teach about that?
mingaling
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2.09.2004 | Reminiscing
While dining with the boy, we noticed the establishment's music playing softly in the background amidst the chatter of clientele and clinking of glasses and dishware. Not fabulous music, mind you, but muzak renditions of some classic hits of the 70's and 80's... easy listening if you will. But a few of the tunes reminded us of other times and places in our lives, most notably the music I heard growing up. My parents loved music, and it was always playing within the home. There was variety, no doubt, with my father's penchant for motown and my mother's Chinese and folk. Between "rainy days and Sundays" and "feeling the earth move under my feet," I grew up in a pretty wide range sound.
A couple of years ago I returned to some of my favorites and bulked up the cd collection with a few:
The Beatles - #1's. The late 60's especially.
The Carpenters - Carpenters. Superstar. Best.song.ever. Know them all by heart.
Jim Croce - Photographs and Memories. Operator still makes me sad.
Carly Simon - No Secrets. I bet you think all these songs are about you.
James Taylor - Sweet Baby James and James Taylor. Fire and Rain has gotten me through some bad shit.
Carole King - Tapestry. This album played constantly throughout my childhood. Love it.
Aretha Franklin - Aretha Now. The Queen of Soul.
The Temptations - Ultimate Collection
The Four Tops - Essential Collection
Marvin Gaye - The Very Best of Marvin Gaye. You've "got to give it up!"
Chinese Music Ensemble of New York - Beloved Chinese Songs
Dolly Parton - Jolene. Jolene is my favorite, and Whitney can kiss her ass.
Kenny Rogers - Gambler. "You never count your money when you're sitting at the table." Wisdom, I tell you.
mingaling
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2.9.2004 | Dear Students
To my best and brightest,
Composing entire paragraphs out of quotations (that you lifted off the internet and failed to cite properly) back-to-back and using them as sentences alone doesn't actually qualify as a paper written by you. Trust me.
Yours Truly,
Evil Prof
mingaling
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2.08.2004 | Birdies and Bogeys
The boy and I had another great weekend together. We relaxed, enjoyed (too much) good food & drink, and even got in our first round of golf together.
I was a bit nervous about the whole thing, though. I mean, athletics and men usually equates to competition, and I abhor competition. I find that the fun and leisure of such games is instantly forfeited once someone loses their mind if they have a few more strokes than you. I am open to constructive criticism of my swing, as long as you don't give me the "I told you so" if I don't perfect it by the time we leave the driving range. I am also capable of driving a golf cart, despite my lack of male genetalia. Plus (for those of you non-golfers), 18 holes takes approximately 4 hours if you go by regulation and don't dawdle. That's a long time to be with a competitive freak.
But the boy did very well. We had a lot of fun, which was great because I didn't have my best game on. The weather was chilly, but sunny, and he did very well for the wind we were having. He is very cute when he counts yardage and scolds himself ever so slightly for choosing the wrong iron (too cute!). He thinks it's cute when I skip around the green and use emoticons to keep my score. I even got to give my my new, snazzy granny shoes a spin. All in all, it was a success. We even discussed my recurring fantasy about being, um, amorous, on a golf course one evening.
*To decipher golf terms go here.
mingaling
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2.06.2004 | Ick
During the evil class last night, this prof developed a migraine. Coincidence? I think snot. I let them out early and ventured over to L & J's to meet them and the boy to watch the Duke/ UNC game. I tried to put on a pretty face, but between the poor effort on UNC's part and the migraine, the pain soon overcame me. So I bailed at half time and made my way home. My current favorite remedy of choice for this ailment? Diet Coke, prescription painkiller, ice pack, pure darkness, and lots of pillows to bury my head under.
When I woke up this morning, I was still a bit foggy but pleasantly pain-free. The boy called to check up on me. I then looked over to the pup, who had sweetly placed her head on the bed and was licking me. Or, should I say, licking my hair. I soon found evidence of something crusty in my hair that she was nibbling on. I looked over to the nightstand, where there was an empty glass with a handprint made by the same crusty stuff. I walked into the kitchen and found smears of the same stuff and crumbs on the counter. WTF?
Apparently in my drug and pain induced haze last night, I ventured into the kitchen to make a snack. A snack that consisted of me taking a piece of bread, swiping it on the inside of the jar of peanut butter, and proceeding to get peanut butter all over the place, including myself.
I never said I was pretty.
mingaling
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2.05.2004 | About Today
Things that blow:
1. No soy milk at Starbucks. Are they trying to kill me?
2. A one hour meeting lasted two.
3. The meeting was about my health insurance premium going up 40%.
4. I miss the boy and won't see him until 9 pm.
5. That's because I teach the evil class.
6. They stare at me like deer in headlights, don't ask questions, and don't follow directions.
Things that rock:
1. A free Caramel Apple Cider (no whip, thankyouverymuch). And I'm having beers with the entire Starbucks crew on Saturday because they love me.
2. I won solitaire on my Tungsten. Twice.
3. I can decrease my health insurance plan needs since I am not expecting a bambino any time soon and I vow to be extra careful crossing the street.
4. I love the boy. And he called.
5. My Monday students are awesome.
6. And the evil class gets a video tonight.
mingaling
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2.04.2004 | Evil
Received this email today. Promptly banged head on desk repeatedly:
Dean S. really enjoyed our staff potluck last Friday before the monthly staff meeting. So much so that he would like to offer having one every month! The Leadership Team feels that this is a good idea for such a hard-working staff. A suggestion was made to refer back to the themed potlucks we had last year.
Thank you,
M
Fuck.
mingaling
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2.03.2004 | Encounter
I went to meet A. at one of my favorite restaurants downtown. As I walked up the street to the quaint little establishment, I noticed it was a bit busy for a Tuesday evening as the patio had a few tables plus a large party on the other side. I continued closer since I knew he was already inside waiting, but then I saw him. From the back. I knew it right away. It was the absentee, plus a table full of his coworkers (or friends since he has none outside of work). I glanced up again and met eyes with one of his colleagues that we had often spent time with together and it was confirmed.
What was I to do? Absentee was right next to the doorway, but thankfully facing the opposite direction. I scurried in to meet the boy and soon all was forgotten during the candlelit dinner, wine, and lingering gazes. But of course, the meal ended and we made plans to move onto our next location. His party was still seated out front, but he had changed seats so that his back faced us inside the restaurant. Perhaps this was best, as he probably knew what game we were playing. Thus, I walked out easily with A's arm wrapped around me.
It all just seems so silly to me now. I vividly remember the absentee's tales of ducking out of establishments in order to avoid unpleasant encounters, but I would have loved to have just walked up to the table, say hello, and be on my way. Yes, he was a jackass and displayed BBB (bonafide breakup behavior), but it's over. Period. No problem. But that would have made him act awkward, and with that weird twitch he does when he is perplexed I am not sure I could have made it out of there without being in hysterics. Plus, the last thing I would want is for A. to feel awkward.
Alas, I know this is not the last of such scenarios. I run into the x on occassion while out and about, but not too many of the other boys, so this is all a bit new to me. How often do people actively avoid places to avoid people? I know one thing for sure... I'm not changing venues anytime soon.
mingaling
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2.02.2004 | In Circles
I bought my desktop in June of last year. I had left the x, but he kept my pc (which he had bought me for our anniversary-lovely). I needed a pc, and it was a good price. One feature was an $80 rebate for signing up for high speed internet. This girl doesn't do dial-up, so it was a winner.
Rebates are great, but they are intrinsically hassles. Paperwork, documentation, etc. was done and sent. The mandatory 6-8 weeks went by, then months, then longer. I received two postcards stating I hadn't sent any record of registering for high speed during the rebate period. Funny, being that was the only thing I sent them which would, in turn, spurn such a postcard notice. Calls were made, hours were spent being on hold, and I was transferred from department to department in search of someone being able to help me. It's been 5 months now, and I've been told (after being on the phone with them for 58 minutes today) that some "documentation is being transferred to the next department and to give them about 10 business days to process that." Um, sure. Take your time.
Call me stubborn, but it's not the money that concerns me anymore. I would pay $80 to get all of this to go away, but it's the principle of customer service and efficiency that this is based on. That, and they've pissed me off.
mingaling
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2.01.2004 | Mine, Yours, Ours
Funny how things are so coincidental.
The boy lives over by Disney, quite a trek from my digs on the eastside and about a half hour on the expressway without traffic. This is a small obstacle, but fully manageable with the proper planning of our slumber parties and rendezvous. Then there is the other factor of 'stuff.' This stuff is contained in a bag and consists of the things in which a proper girl would rightly need for such sleepovers: change of clothes & undergarments, multiple toiletries (although the boy has kindly provided many at his place - told you he was a winner), and most importantly the blow dryer (because wet hair is just ick).
Then he declares, "We should live together." After my 'holy crap' moment, I agreed. Out loud. We love each other, madly, but sanely. He loves my dog, furbeast and all. I do not kick him nor does he steal sheets. Hmm... no more need for the stuff bag, right?
You should note that this, although a grand idea indeed, shall not actually happen for a few more months (or with my luck, if at all if he comes back to his sanity).
mingaling
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1.31.2004 | "Raising cocker spaniel puppies is rewarding"
Went to the Social with D, A, and L to see the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players and Andrew Katz. They find vintage slides and write and perform songs along with the slide show. And they're a real family, with their 9 year old playing the drums. They were fantastic! I really wish there were more fabulous shows in town like these guys.
mingaling
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1.30.2004 | Smile
Light up your face with gladness,
Hide every trace of sadness.
Although a tear may be ever so near,
That's the time you must keep on trying,
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile,
If you just smile.
- Nat King Cole, Smile
There was a girl in high school who we all thought was a bit too odd. Her biggest fault? She smiled... all the time. There was a constant ear-to-ear grin on her face. This, of course, was unfathomable in the midst of our teenage angst. She was branded a queer for the simple fact that she was wearing a symbol of what we didn't have - the will to show happiness.
I still look around and see people who stand out from the rest of us. People who smile while doing menial everyday tasks. Driving along the street, pushing the grocery cart, and even waiting in line at the checkout counter are folks who defy the odds by smiling even in the most mundane circumstances. And today, looking in the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself doing the same.
mingaling
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1.29.2004 | Potlucky
According to some sources, "potlach" was a phrase used by northeastern Indian tribes to describe an event where everyone "brought something for the pot."
The hens at the division of ye olde institution of higher learning love to have themselves a potluck. In fact, our mandatory monthly staff meetings have somehow been transformed into food events over the past several months, and the hens are quite clever. These meetings are mandatory. Since the meeting is in conjunction with the potluck, attendance to the potluck is also pretty much unavoidable. And we all know that attendance to any potluck without bringing a dish = you being a giant asshole. So, not only do you have to sit through an entire meeting in which nothing of importance is discussed, but you have to get up an hour earlier for work that day to cook food for everyone you do not like nor associate with during the other 29 days of the month.
That being said, here's the recipe for my magnificent macaroni and cheese. May they all choke on it.
1 (16 oz) package uncooked elbow macaroni
3 (8 oz) containers cottage cheese
1 (16 oz) container sour cream
3 eggs
2 cups shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp dry mustard
Preheat oven to 350 F. Lightly butter baking dish. Cook the noodles until al dente & drain. Mix with remaining ingredients. Cover loosely with foil and bake 40 minutes.
mingaling
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1.28.2004 | Better than South Beach
The boy and I have apparently hit on the newest and easiest way to lose weight, eat less, and stay fit: stay in bed with each other until at least 5 pm. Come on, you should all try it.
mingaling
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1.26.2004 | Note to Self
While teaching, try to refrain from making 1398734763 references to illegal substances. They have a place in the humanities, just not in your class.
mingaling
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1.26.2004 | Letter To My Body
Hey there,
I know it's been a while since we last chatted, and I thought I'd catch up with you.
I'm a little surprised that you grew bangs all of a sudden. I don't really remember getting a haircut, or do I remember the almost guaranteed sobbing when I do such things to myself, so my hair must have snapped all around my forehead. Funny how those things happen.
It's also almost been a week since both of the nostrils worked in tandem. How's that for teamwork? The oozing factor has decreased only slightly, so I'm assuming that there isn't much grey matter left up there, huh? Either that, or the coughing has liquidated all traces of it. I hope you don't mind all the meds, although I'm sure you haven't tired of that funny tingling sensation that gives the illusion of me actually being awake.
Do you think it's about time that I stopped breaking out? I mean, I know it's only been about 10 or so years since I hit puberty, but I think I'm looking a bit silly with all these spots. Even my students breakout less than I do. Or are you trying to make me feel youthful again? Gee, thanks. That's sweet!
Well, I've got to run. I've got to go to pilates class to counteract the thigh and ass issue, but you already knew that, didn't you?
Later,
mingaling
ps. I know what you've been hinting at, but the boy has strep throat. Go easy on him this week, okay?
mingaling
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1.25.2004 | Out of the Woodwork
Very odd. In the past two days, the x and 3 former flames have called, and 1 emailed. Nothing specific, but they apparently just want to know 'how I'm doing' and see if I wanted to get together to 'catch up' on old times. Mmmm... no thanks.
Small talk has never been my thing, but I was innocuous enough in the pleasantries (to which I limited to a maximum of 10 minutes each - I'm not that gracious). Yes, there was a slight mention of the fantastic, handsome, wonderful man in my life. Cruel, aren't I?
mingaling
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1.23.2004 | Feeling Like Death
2 days PTO
4 quarts of orange juice
2 boxes of cold medication (day/night)
872 cough drops
1 nostril working at a time
2 boxes of kleenex
1 doctor's visit
1 $15 copay
3 peanut butter sandwiches
5 cans of soup
1 also-sick boyfriend
3 calls from said sick boy
... and there's nothing like a pair of flannel pj's
mingaling
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1.22.2004 | Monkey Business
It is the lunar new year. 2004 is the Year of the Monkey, who symbolizes energy, activity, mischief and loyalty. It is proposed that this year (4701 in the old calendar) will bring exciting events and changes, as well as the unexpected.
A lot of unexpected things have happened in the last year. The demise of my marriage, my living situation, the support of my friends and family, and, just recently, meeting A. I never expected any of those things to happen to me, and I could never have predicted how I would react in those situations. But I can say that I now feel like I can face the unexpected without hesitation. I feel that I can own up to the unknowns and the uncertainties now more than ever.
Speaking of unexpected, mom gave me a hong bao last night with a twenty in it. Love her, but I have a cold right now and feel ick.
Happy New Year!
mingaling
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1.20.2004 | 48 Hours
I just spent every waking (and non-awakening) moment of the last two days with the most amazing man I've ever met. It was completely spontaneous and blissful in every aspect. It was open and honest and free. It was funny and laughable and wacky. We are completely disgusting to outsiders when adoring each other, and I am loving every minute.
mingaling
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1.19.2004 | Favorite Spaces
I never took to the stage like my sister. Instead of wanting to be in the limelight, I preferred the cozy darkness of the places in which I could hide from the noise of everyday. I would while away the afternoons of my youth in the shadows of our home, sometimes with toys, games, but almost always with books.
Oddly enough, many of my favorite hiding spots were underneath furniture. An early favorite was underneath a coffee table. But this coffee table was unlike any other. My father purchased it while in Macao, and it is basically a six-foot long and six-inch thick cross section of a huge tree. At the tender age of three, this became my sanctuary as I could easily slide underneath the monstrosity with plenty of room to spare. After a while I grew, to where more space was a necessity. I found another spot underneath the large mahogany dining room table. My mother flew to Hong Kong specifically to purchase the intricately carved table, with its rose-colored wood gleaming. It seated eight, so it was perfect to hide underneath and sprawl out without being found. The chairs created a perfect distraction for the occasional passer-by as to not reveal a bibliophile with her books underneath it. My bedroom furniture consisted of a desk with a corner-shaped table-top bookshelf which also had another perfect alcove for me to hide in. It was smaller than the space under the dining table, but had prime location in my bedroom. A hiding spot within a hiding spot, so to speak.
As I got older, I had outgrown most of my hiding spots (literally and figuratively). I soon became the adolescent who always wanted to hide far away from home. The alcoves beneath furniture were soon replaced by malls, record stores, and boyfriend's homes. But now, as I look around my mother's home, I am reminded of those favorite spaces and the comfort and security they provided. I remember the peaceful tranquility afforded by the dark obscurity those places provided. So I've made some adjustments, and moved some chairs, and my dog and I can comfortably fit underneath that old dining room table. Now at least once a week there is a book, a dog, and an almost grown-up girl, in one of my favorite spaces.
mingaling
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1.18.2004 | She's All Grown Up
My baby sister is now 21. sniff...
mingaling
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1.17.2004 | Game Face
When I see the new boy I want to tell him all the things about me. I want to tell him what makes me, what moves me, how he moves me. I know he feels the same, as he has told me so. But we question ourselves as well: how much is too much information?
Relationships are so often played as games. We all know this. We carefully plot our next move based upon predictions on observed behavior. We craft our advances in order to meet our goals. But in this game, your opponent isn't an adversary, but rather your prize. So does it help or hinder us to be completely honest in our feelings and desires with one another? Do we give away the game when it becomes obvious of what the current situation is?
It seems that we have no game plan. We excitedly tell each other how strangely different and wonderful we feel with each other rather than acting coy. We tell each other we can't wait to see each one another again rather than play the slightly disinterested role. We don't have to have that cool exterior to protect us from hurt and disappointment (that never really worked anyway, did it?). It seems that if both parties are in agreement, the game is forfeited. We are a pair of giddy 16 year olds when we're together, and you know... it isn't so bad after all.
mingaling
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1.16.2004 | Hear me roar
I am in a piss poor mood today for no apparent reason. I need the boy and a drink, pronto.
While I am in a mood, enjoy some Asian humor. I love being able to say I'm Asian. It's not often you can automatically be part of someone's fetish.
mingaling
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1.15.2004 | Hello Normal?
The phone rings at lunch. It's him. My mind races: Why's he calling? Is he going to cancel plans? Break up with me? Has gone gay? Moving to Khazikstan? I decide to answer after a 20 millisecond debate and given up hope that anything good could possibly come out of the conversation. He says hello, and he just wanted to say 'hi' and wish me a good day. What?
Granted, I've not had the best luck with boys on the spreadsheet. This last streak of losers has certainly tainted the horizon with unexpected angst and aggravation. There was A who called every hour and sent 8,962 text messages because he was so insecure and demanded my complete attention at all times, only to berate me if I was in a meeting or class and missed it. Then there was M, who would call and have nothing to say which would only remind me that he was so wrong to begin with. There was R, who would get so offended if I even described the weather differently than he did. There was E, who was fantastic to talk to but never really got around to telling me he wanted me. There was C, who would say lovely, dirty things to me, but it seemed obvious that these calls were only roundabout ways to schedule our next erotic rendezvous. And lastly, there was M, who was the quintessential too-busy-to-call, never-return-your-call, and call-only-to-cancel-plans type of caller whose last feat was to just not call - at all.
So, is it surprising that I'm taken aback by the new boy's gestures? Since meeting him, I've talked to him every day. They are long, lovely conversations in which no teeth-pulling is necessary. He calls when he says he will. There are no awkward silences, but instead a lot of laughter. D tells me that this is what normal is like. Is it possible that I've come only to expect horrible, shallow things spoken out of the receiver?
mingaling
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1.14.2004 | Spaces of Time
Good food, good drink, good company. A cold, crisp night in which the stars gleam across the sky. Walking hand in hand around the lake. Quoting Wordsworth. Reliving the joy of swingsets in the playground. Burying my face in your sweater for warmth. Seeing the city that I've lived in for 15 years in a completely new light. Bliss.
mingaling
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1.13.2004 | The Type
Benrik Day 12 asks to define one's "type." I always thought I had this one pinned down. He was to be tall, dark, and handsome, with a killer smile, very sexy, great wit, intelligent but not stuffy, and had to make me laugh harder than anyone I knew.
Simple, no? But it seems that time and experience have taken a toll on such prerequisites. Tall, dark, and handsome are nice characteristics, but are not all that necessary. Killer smiles still make me melt, but what's behind the smile intrigues me more. Wit, intelligence, sexiness, and humor are still required and are non-negotiable. Then there are the other things that I've now come to need. I want a boy who returns my phone calls in a timely manner. I want a boy who lives up to his word and doesn't promise me unrealistic tomorrows. The boy should tell the truth, even if it's going to hurt, instead of playing games. He should be supportive of me and my dreams, as I will do the same for him. He should be my partner, not leader, in our journey together.
Perhaps this is too much to ask. It is a bit limiting, but should we lower our expectations in response? I think not.
mingaling
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1.11.2004 | Introducing "A"
My date with A. last night was no less than perfect. He was everything I expected and more. It was the sort of date that whisked by before our eyes, with us only stopping to catch our breath in conversation and taking a sec to glance at each other before saying sweet things.
Funniest moments:
1. Writing a one-napkin essay to each other on our thoughts of the first hour of the evening.
2. While eating edamame, shooting myself in the face with a soybean.
3. A. watching me reply to all the text messages from my sister and D. asking, "is he cute?" "update!" "do you want me to bail you out?"
Sweetest moments:
1. What he wrote on the napkin.
2. A. telling me that he hasn't had this much fun in the 8 months that he's been here.
3. A. declaring "I want to see you" and I agreeing wholeheartedly after laughing at him for a good 5 minutes.
Worst moment:
Realizing that what seemed to be only a couple of hours was actually 7 hours and it was closing time.
Best moment:
1. Kissing him in the cold night air and not wanting to let go.
2. Knowing that this is only the beginning.
mingaling
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1.10.2004 | Anticipation
Talked to the new boy for another few hours (!) last night. He is funny, smart, and has a wicked cd collection. I am intrigued by the lack of awkward silences. I am also so freaking excited about meeting up with him tonight (and so not excited about the zit I seemed to have gotten overnight). Of course I don't want to expect too much because that only leads to unfulfilled fantasies, but he just sounds lovely.
Meanwhile, meet Jonas for day 10 of Benrik.
Oh, and I mailed absentee's key back to him.
mingaling
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1.09.2004 | About a Boy
Did I tell you about the cute boy that called last night? Did I tell you we talked for hours? Did I tell you about the millions of things we have in common, including a love for the D? Did I tell you how he made me laugh? Did I tell you that we're going out this weekend? Oh? Well now you know...
mingaling
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1.9.2004 | Belated Benrik
I have been slacking on the Benrik updates!
Day 5: I placed an "out of order" sign on my neighborhood's mailbox. It was ripped off immediately. Fuckers.
Day 6: I wrote the first sentence to my debut novel, which is a variation of this.
Day 7: Masturbated to very odd fantasy on page of Day 7. I don't know, but camping just doesn't cut it with me.
Day 8: Cut out caffeine for the day. That was all I could handle. Developed headache instantly.
Day 9: Do something before breakfast day - and that was laundry. Actually, I don't really eat breakfast so I pretty much do everything before breakfast until lunch comes around.
mingaling
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1.08.2004 | Presents
Nothing cures sadness about a boy like a FedEx delivery.
mingaling
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She's about a year old, smelled like pee, and is the sweetest thing. She also likes everything Sam owns.
Sam, however, liked everything we bought Maggie, so it all worked out.
Maggie's not so sure.
So on about 3 hours of sleep, much shopping and boozing, I had a blast.
We stayed downtown.
The weather was gorgeous.
Biggest bar tab I've ever seen!
Me and the lovely 
Ferris Bueller moment.
At 5 months my feet grew to half the size of my entire body.
I always looked mature for my age.
What? You don't have a pink crocheted chapeau?
I'm still waiting for this one to make a comeback.
This is what happens when mom tries to dress me.
Fun Irish facts were posted about the rooms (we are educators, you know).
Even the beverage menu was labeled correctly.
Newsworthy 
Fun was had by all...
...including me.
