In which I will finish what I sort of started…

…in This post [that] was meant to be a “rave” about the lyrics in the song “Already Gone” by The Eagles.  Here are the lyrics that especially make me wanna rave:

So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains
And we never even know we have the key

We have the key.  That’s deep.  That’s spiritual.  That makes me want to climb a precipice, look to the heavens, and chant a Buddhist mantra or sing a Creed song.  These lines get me just as much if not more:

Just remember this, my girl, when you look up in the sky
You can see the stars and still not see the light

See the light.  I like it because you can take it in a literal or metaphorical sense.  It’s kind of like the glass half full thing only taken to a cosmic level!  Yes, it’s just like that.

In other news, guess what!  It’s been one of the craziest, most epic weeks of my life.  I moved to a new apartment, I found a second job, I updated my Facebook status multiple times, AND I started another blog.  This is my favorite entry so far.  It gives me an excuse to use my camera phone more than necessary.

WOOOO!: “Public health experts have long feared a new flu could appear and kill millions worldwide.”

So, I admit: My last blog post, in which I intended to find out what the deal is with Paul Mitchell, seems (a little) less important now that I sit here with my first sunburn of the 2009 season wondering what the deal is with this swine flu. 

Swine flu.  Bea Arthur dies and the world goes to complete shit. 

Photographs of people wearing medical masks and pigs gorging themselves on ominous heap piles are popping up everywhere!  And most confusing, none of my Facebook friends have written witty status updates about it.  Don’t they know what’s going on in Mexico, New Zealand, Hong Kong, Canada, Spain, and the US?!  Don’t know they know that Shia Labeouf and Harrison Ford have already signed on and are awaiting funds from the WHO and the CDC before proceeding?!

Between this and the anticipation of tomorrow night’s episode of “The Hills”…it’s shaping up to be a real doozy of a Monday.

Care to join me in my underwear shelter?

The other night I met up with this guy, and he asked me if I watch “Lost.”  And I said no.  It’s one of those shows I figure I’ll pick up on DVD and engross myself with for days on end at some point…when I’m unemployed or recovering from gastric bypass or waiting for my court date after making bail.  Some situation like that where you just need to lose yourself in another world because all hope for your own is a bit…lost.

Anyway, as a means of procrastination, I took one of those stupid quizzes on Facebook.  This one was entitled, “On which current TV show would you exist?”  And, yeah, my result was “Lost.”  Which strikes me as amazingly accurate even though I’ve never seen it:

You are suspicious of reality and not sure that time exists. You are attractive and sexy but never really bathe properly. When given the chance to re-invent yourself, you became the exact same person you already were. Some people think you are insane, but you may actually be a visionary. Despite your average background, you can kill wild boar, shoot guns, and build shelters out of underwear and luggage pieces. You think a lot but are not sure what to think. All of your friends could also be your enemies or your relatives. You know that ghosts and monsters really do exist. People are addicted to you.

As far as I know I cannot kill wild boar, but everything else is pretty spot-on.  (Especially the thing about bathing.)

How will you celebrate Kim Jong-Il’s upcoming birthday?

The first thunderstorms of 2009 are slated to hit NYC tonight, and in the mean time, it’s 68 degrees.  Thunderstorms drive me wild–if I had taken the time to write 25 Things About Me on Facebook, that just may have been my #11.  They’re boisterous and rude and they don’t give a shit, which is usually the exact opposite of how I am, so maybe that’s why I find them so appealing. 

Bad weather captures the imagination.  Reminds us that the world is a romantic place.  The local news always treks over to the grocery store and the Home Depot to interview people who have the same thing to say every time–”I need a new shovel!”  “We’re stocking up on bread and milk!”  “I’m buying these jugs of water with my last bit of credit!”

No, really.  I’m washing my clothes right now and I’m pretty sure it’s the last time I’ll be using the laundromat versus just filling up the tub and stepping on my wardrobe while I shower.  They’re closing TWO hospitals in my area next month.  Which would outrage me if I had health insurance.  Instead I lucked out and happen to live with a Registered Nurse who also has a Psych degree for all my physical and emotional health needs. 

And on top of it all, Jennifer Figge is a liar.  Sometimes it seems like people over 50 are more effed up than their younger counterparts–Bernie Madoff, 70 years; Kim Jong-Il, 68 in 6 days!!;  Dick Cheney, 68; Donald Trump, 62; Road Runner of Looney Tunes fame?, 60 years.  Both Bernie Madoff and Donald Trump grew up in Queens, yet they’re so effed up they’re allowing two hospitals in their home borough to shut down.  Unbelievable.  Un-effin-believable.  Here’s a story for the local news: I plan to be non-effed up when I reach my golden years.  I plan to be a beacon of wisdom, embodying the awe of a winter thunderstorm, the practicality of a Home Depot shovel, and the comforting odor of clothes just pulled from the dryer.

Thoughts on going to the bathroom in Post-Christian-Bale-Freak-Out America

Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan were in the women’s room at the Queens Library today–a DVD of Rush Hour 2 was leaning upright behind the toilet seat (you know, right behind where you put your butt).  I would’ve liked to use that stall, except that it was kind of a disaster.  I don’t know about you, but I am all for unisex bathrooms.  I would love unisex bathrooms.  There are so many times when I’ve opted for the men’s room.  Usually, you know, when there are long lines for the women’s room and I’ve been drinking.  But I really do think it’s the more efficient way, as well as a way to improve gender relations, accomodate for the transgendered, and just make the whole discarding of bodily waste thing more interesting.  For example, one Halloween I was waiting for the stall in a men’s room and I was able to meet a man dressed up as Bruce Wayne at the urinal.  That makes, like, three action movie stars/characters I’ve come across in close proximity to a toilet.  And I get so much satisfaction from being able to say I picked up Bruce Wayne at the urinal.  Too much satisfaction.

Speaking of Bruce Wayne, I’m pretty bummed about Christian Bale’s freak-out.  Why is he so ANGRY?  (I cannot get this remix out of my head.)  He needs to find some inner peace and fast.  Maybe he can remake Seven Years in Tibet or something.  Seven Years in Tibet…Again.  Brad Pitt and Christian Bale lie restlessly in a tent as prayer flags wave passionately in the Tibetan wind.  Ang Lee will direct it. 

Speaking of faraway lands, thanks to clicking on a Facebook link asking if I’d like to live and work in New Zealand, and subsequently signing up to learn more, I now receive e-mails with subject lines like, “New Zealand needs you,” and most recently, ”Free New Zealand ice cream.”

I’ve also begun learning a little of the Maori language.  Kia ora!  (Hello!)   Aotearoa. (‘Land of the long white cloud’.)  I went onto the New Zealand government’s job site and found a librarian position in a prison: responsible for the delivery of library/educational services ‘behind the wire’ to offenders.   Which sounds really exciting!  Skip that whole inmate penpal thing and just get right to the source.  So if I ever do obtain my Master’s in Library Science degree…adventures behind the wire in the land of the long white cloud await me.

Hello, February–Don’t You Love Hangovers?

Isn't it terrifying?

Oh, hey!  It’s the last day of January!!  I’m not usually awake at this hour, but my roommate got a job and to celebrate we did what all employed people do–drank, danced, debauchered.  I scored a business card from a man named Angelo who is likely not the father of my future 14 children.  Woke up to eat a waffle, determine the level of my dehydration, and add Angelo on Facebook. 

You know what else happened last night? I was pooped on by a pigeon. For the first time ever! It really wasn’t surprising because I was walking underneath the above ground subway which is where loads of them sleep at night. There’s literally a carpet of pigeon droppings on the sidewalk beneath it. It happened to this middle aged guy who me and the roommate were hanging out with last weekend, but I didn’t know him very well so I didn’t tell him. Some landed on his face and dried there. I felt a little like a jerk for not informing him, but I was also jealous so it’s okay.

Here are some search terms used to find my blog that make up for the untimely death of Mr. Coffee:

Celine Dion t-shirts

My favorite Celine song is “Taking Chances.” I also enjoy that one that starts off “The whispers in the morning. Of lovers sleeping tight. Are rolling like thunder now.” She speaks my language, you know?

milf pixar

Aardvarks are every girl's weakness.

I’m sexually attracted to lots of animated characters.  Bob the Builder. Patti Mayonnaise. Diego.  I just don’t remember many Pixar MILFs…I guess the kid’s mom from Toy Story was hot?

 

Keanu Reeves alcoholic

People are so mean to Keanu.

back scratching chihuahua

That’s stupid.

dick embarresing

I don’t know how to spell, either.  Men who are illiterate are right up there with aardvarks.

פיונה אפל

A Google Images search concludes that that’s how you write “Fiona Apple” in…a language I’m not familiar with.

Tommy Lee Jones, Tommy Lee Jone, and Tomy Lee Jones are pretty popular, too.  Thank goodness my mom likes him.

Global Orgasm for Peace Day Approaches!!

It’s not just a Facebook event created by someone in Finland.  It’s a legit initiative for peace brought about by a non-profit: http://www.globalorgasm.org/

I don’t know about you, but I’m convinced:

WHY? To effect positive change in the energy field of the Earth through input of the largest possible instantaneous surge of human biological, mental and spiritual energy.

Extra points if you sneeze mid-orgasm.  December 21, 2008 at 12:04 GMT.

Ah! Naked war protestors!

Grossly Misusing WordPress, as usual.

The evolution of the Facebook status astounds me.  It seems that many people grossly misuse this feature.  Personally, I only use it when I’m especially excited about something or when I’m especially intoxicated (occasionally the two go hand in hand).  I remember the early days, with your run-of-the-mill updates:

John Hancock is at home.

Madame Curie is in the lab.

Tom Selleck is grooming the ol’ ’stache.

But NOW. 

Dakota Fanning is LOL where did this hickey come from?

Kim Jong-Il is 5 DAYS UNTIL JONAS BROTHERS NEW ALBUM DROPS! CAMPING OUT IN FRONT OF WALMART AND TRAMPLING A BITCH! teeheeeee

It’s one thing to procrastinate your day away on Facebook.  It’s another thing to further procrastinate your day by blogging about Facebook…  My most recent status update was last night letting everyone know that I spotted this dapper man on Park Avenue:

He didn’t flash me his undies, but he did give me an up and down, elevator style.  I guess because I was staring at him.  But it was oddly satisfying to receive the brief attention of Carson Kressley.  I feel like he has an innate ability to size anyone up in less time than the average judgmental human eye.   I think his conclusion about me would have to be something along the lines of “TJ Maxx Clearance Rack Pack Rat” or “Salvation Army Whore.”  I’d prefer the latter.  Dammit.  THAT’S what I should have named this blog.

CAUTION: HOT! Handle With Care.

You know Edna Parker, the oldest person alive who just lost her title?  Parker is my paternal grandmother’s maiden name.  So despite the history of diabetes, cancer, various addictions, etc, etc…I just might make it 115 yet.  Especially if I keep eating Cup o’ Noodles at 2am as I’m about to.  I don’t know anyone else who eats Cups o’ Noodles as comfort food, but it reminds me of my best friend from home whose diet consists of pure sodium.  If it’s found in the freezer aisle, it’s on her dinner plate.  Paired with a package of Oriental Ramen.  (It’s delicious.  Try it.) 

Confession: I used Cup o’ Noodles as a means to flirt with a high school aged boy last weekend.  I was staying with my parents at a hotel, cruising Facebook on the hotel computers, when a class trip arrived.  One boy joined me in the computer room and proceeded to go straight to World of Warcraft.  It was kind of amazing.  He asked me if there were any time regulations on the computer.  Then he lamented that the pizza he’d ordered was going to arrive as soon as he started playing.   Every time he said something, though, he didn’t make eye contact, so I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or to himself.  I never assume people are talking to me because I talk to myself abnormally often.  (Probably 95% of the time, if I enter a public bathroom stall and I know that no one else is in the bathroom with me, I’ll either talk to myself or start singing.)

Anyway, in the elevator on my way back to the room, I was joined by another high school boy.  He was carrying a Cup o’ Noodles.  So to make up for all the high school boys I was too shy to talk to when I was a high school girl, I batted my eyelashes and asked, “What flavor?”  He replied, “Chicken.  It was all they had.”  Then it was his floor.  He said, “Have a good night.”  I said, “You too.” 

Cup o’ Noodles: It takes 3 minutes to cook.  It provides you with 20% of your daily recommended intake of Iron.  It brings people together. 

Much more than a soup, indeed.

Unapologetically -ilfy things.

A few posts ago, I complained about a man I met who had been wearing an “I Heart Hot Moms” shirt.  I’ve been getting a lot of hits from the tag word “MILFs” ever since, which got me thinking about the moms who would be on my MILF list (if I had one).  The only -ilfy thing I ever did was join the “Danny Tanner is a DILF” Facebook group.  Something about Bob Saget being so unapologetically raunchy deserves respect.  Gumption is sexy.  I think that’s why Roseanne makes my hypothetical MILF list.  And Rosie O’Donnell.  My mom has no respect for Rosie because of her big mouth, but that’s the very reason I do.  Plus, the photo on her craft book is so good!  Look how beautiful her family is.  And what a punny title!

My MILF list is definitely a work in progress, but along with Roseanne and Rosie and each and every Golden Girl, it would have to include Jennifer Garner.  She makes the best romantic comedies.  And she’s married to Ben Affleck, who I also thought about putting on the MILF list, but perhaps he would be better on the already in progress BILF list (Bens I’d Like to Fuck):

Sir Ben Kingsley, Ben E. King, Benedict Arnold, Benji. Obviously.