i agree. the bagel friday is a curious phenomenon. and these bagels are way better than the bagels i got on the DrPhil show, which never seemed fresh and locked in stomach clogging dense-ness. but the cream cheese was good philly cream cheese. the cream cheese here is light airated fluff in stuff and it goes quickly.
the bagels at BMP are fresh, when you bite into them well it's delightful. you're not tearing at a loaf of bread but something infinitely better. although for the carb count i really should have nothing to do with bagel fridays. and this bagel tray doesn't have any wheat bagels or blueberry bagels. but it seems for fridays a worthy indulgance. and bcs they're there how can i turn down this sort of treat. it's placating us sure... but how can i turn it down. i ask? i don't drink coffee so that's never been a source of yah, f- you the man, i'll drink all the coffee jitter inspiring heart racing crap i want.
ah, bagel fridays... what are thee
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
what is with bagel fridays?
as though this supposed to make us feel better. although i do admit that on fridays, i sort of love the bagels. the fact that i don't have to pack that extra food item for the day. and the cream cheese. although recently, it must be noted that they switched from flavors to an all-plain selection and we don't know why. i personally always used the plain, so this tacking little cutting of corners doesn't so much affect me, but i thought i'd mention it nonetheless.
i too haven't posted in at least a week, and for that i feel a deep shame. a deeper sense of malaise for that the fact that i can find little interesting to say. each day is blurrier, more filled with angry clients and bad moods around the office. the weather was cold, a nice level of frigid for the new pea coat that finally arrived in the mail. but today it's spring again and it's raining, but then it's not, and if we don't stop roller-coasting, both my car and i might have a break down. i discovered yesterday that my car, whose name is antoine, simply doesn't like the cold, and when the weather is freezing, his little "check engine" light goes on.
me, i like the cold, but not finickiness in cars. i want the car to be happy. i want my nose to be happy. neither is happy with roller-coasting weather.
dammit, the callers beckon once again.
wow, I suck.
so it's been a week since a post... i blame my new job. that's right, 2 wks in- to bliss and carpel tunnel. i'm story logging for the "Challenge 10" or Inferno II as some like to call it. and aside from bordering tenuously on ruining my arms forever with excessive typing i love it. my novel will just have to wait. . .
we have bagel friday, check-man thursday, and snack time every day at 4pm. what could possibly go wrong. also there's been drama on the show already- clothes thrown into pools, lots of f-ing whore shout outs, keg stands, and we're encouraged to gossip about it. they call it back story. how could i not love this.
there is however a center atrium. and it was a week ago, when the lovely weather was filtering in through the canopy of mesh wire and wood, when i decided to lay down for 20 minutes. when i was told, after the fact, that people were watching... that it was a fish bowl... that people who make over 120k were making sure the worker bees were working... and thus they watched the atrium- took notes, and began a log of the possible trouble makers and never workers.
my people wanted to save me from this and so drew me back into the dark folds of the logging bay... the soft glow of lamps betraying the hideous faux hip finish, the cold glow of the computer moniter and the time codes lapping quickly over its self on tv after tv. the vault of tapes, wall upon wall, with binders and signs and editor doors.
i look longingly out now toward the haze of natural light just beyond. i watch the never workers and the incessant cell phone people. their eyes dart, their stance tense- surely no one cares they think. i'm just on the phone. i watch the lunch takers and their careless groups basking in the dappled sun. their question: where else are we to go? let the watchers watch and everyone take note of our daring.
on breaks i skirt on the edge of the atrium, i find the other loggers in their secret places- near the bathroom, mr. cell phone man... he has only me to fear. muhahahaha.
ahem sorry. my hand is cramping. i really cant take this any further. more soon.
we have bagel friday, check-man thursday, and snack time every day at 4pm. what could possibly go wrong. also there's been drama on the show already- clothes thrown into pools, lots of f-ing whore shout outs, keg stands, and we're encouraged to gossip about it. they call it back story. how could i not love this.
there is however a center atrium. and it was a week ago, when the lovely weather was filtering in through the canopy of mesh wire and wood, when i decided to lay down for 20 minutes. when i was told, after the fact, that people were watching... that it was a fish bowl... that people who make over 120k were making sure the worker bees were working... and thus they watched the atrium- took notes, and began a log of the possible trouble makers and never workers.
my people wanted to save me from this and so drew me back into the dark folds of the logging bay... the soft glow of lamps betraying the hideous faux hip finish, the cold glow of the computer moniter and the time codes lapping quickly over its self on tv after tv. the vault of tapes, wall upon wall, with binders and signs and editor doors.
i look longingly out now toward the haze of natural light just beyond. i watch the never workers and the incessant cell phone people. their eyes dart, their stance tense- surely no one cares they think. i'm just on the phone. i watch the lunch takers and their careless groups basking in the dappled sun. their question: where else are we to go? let the watchers watch and everyone take note of our daring.
on breaks i skirt on the edge of the atrium, i find the other loggers in their secret places- near the bathroom, mr. cell phone man... he has only me to fear. muhahahaha.
ahem sorry. my hand is cramping. i really cant take this any further. more soon.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
This week I'm eating all white foods
Actually I have a few other colors mixed in there, but for the most part I'm trying to keep it bland. Today's lunch menu is rehydrated potato soup, and for dinner we'll have tuna melts. Which will involve some very hyper-colored (ooo, remember hyper-color T's?) cheddar cheese. However, regardless that my stomach's on fire, I can't ever stay away from the cheese. I suppose most of it's pretty bland.
See, what happened was last week I had a little flip-out. The crying in the middle of the day for no reason kind. Then Friday night I had a few drinks. And then Saturday, the little ulcer I've had in the making for years now--that's years of steady, hard-core internalizing, people--it met the alchohol and screamed off its little head. It said in an evil voice, "I'll get you, my pretty." I spent the next two days in a little ball on the couch, wishing the witch dead.
And I'm better now with an doctor visit (abhorred) and a few pills but figure that bland foods are a good idea. No jambalaya, no chili, no marinara sauce--all the witch's favorites. Instead I will bore her tears with meals void of color and spice. Tuna melts, chicken and pasta with a mild, non-tomato-based sauced. Raw mushrooms, crackers. Maybe on Sunday, for those last pre-Superbowl games of football, a nice homemade baked potato soup. Let her socks rot off with boredom, that witch.
Trouble is, I'm a little bored, too.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
donate blood, it's good for you.
okay, so this blog, is going in fits and starts. somedays i feel why bother writing at all and i'm not sure if it's because the thoughts haven't concretized or maybe i really have nothing to say, but sometimes i feel- i always have something to say- and then writing it down becomes an untold burden. there is something to processing i guess. i don't want to be a fragment writer forever you know, not unlike being a lonely road forever you know.
well yesterday i donated blood. which i'm told saves 3 peoples lives. and i find myself asking stupid questions like, how? and do they ever run out of blood at a hospital- so like someone comes in and the guy at the front desk says sorry man, we're out of AB neg. you'll have to come back. and then the guy says, but, man, i have like a wound and i'm going to die.
sorry man, he says.
so i donate blood- you have to answer if you've been out of the country and if you've been out of the country for a combined total of 3 months you have to list where. so congratulate me- i have! one week over the limit... it makes me feel sort of lame, like i don't know another language and really i haven't been too many places, as kick ass as they were. i could do more.
one girl came in earlier and she's like, is this going to take long? because i can't be here all day!- and i think come on lady? you're saving 3 non-specified lives. shut the hell up. later mom says, she had a low iron count so she couldn't donate anyway. i find myself laughing. ha! low iron count!
and then an older woman comes in and refuses to take the informational pamphlet, which you must take if you want a number, if you want to fill out the little 39 Q. question sheet, if you want to donate blood. she says something snippy like, it's not changed. it hasn't changed in 15 years!
the worker having been verbally assulted with unwarranted hostility hesitantly gives her her number. she stands there feeling bad for a second and flips through it anyway grumbling about it. i'm like lady, shut the hell up, you're saving three lives already!
also if you're CMV negative that means your blood can go to children. Little babies. you know. and also don't forget afterward you get to pick what colorful wrap your arm gets and you get water and a selection of snack treats... don't forget the sticker! "I donated blood today..." which is way better than the voted sticker because you're like really saving lives with it and not just keeping the democratic system afloat.
they take my temperature and it's 97.2. i'm always running low like that. the woman says, wow, always? even in the summer. yah, i say. hmm. she says. am i freak? am i going to die of a non-specified disease...
did you know that in addition to saving three lives you can also donate plattletes?. those people are hard core. they have, well they're a step above me. because really this is only my second time donating. i make no pretenses to being a 65 gallon donor. and only 30% of first time donors donate again... slackers. i'm already a step ahead! and as my mom and the give-life website remind me it's the right thing to do. whatever! it's my hot body, i'll do what i want!
hey and did you know I'm B+. which is a rare blood type (like 9%, ah yah). makes me feel all special but not as special as those ABneg types. poor bastards.
www.givelife.org
also did you know it's inherited... so i could only be B or O. that's my lot in life. so it'd be kind of a clever way to see if your paternal hunches are right... sort of personal like showing you my nickers- or my eye color. blink. blink.
well yesterday i donated blood. which i'm told saves 3 peoples lives. and i find myself asking stupid questions like, how? and do they ever run out of blood at a hospital- so like someone comes in and the guy at the front desk says sorry man, we're out of AB neg. you'll have to come back. and then the guy says, but, man, i have like a wound and i'm going to die.
sorry man, he says.
so i donate blood- you have to answer if you've been out of the country and if you've been out of the country for a combined total of 3 months you have to list where. so congratulate me- i have! one week over the limit... it makes me feel sort of lame, like i don't know another language and really i haven't been too many places, as kick ass as they were. i could do more.
one girl came in earlier and she's like, is this going to take long? because i can't be here all day!- and i think come on lady? you're saving 3 non-specified lives. shut the hell up. later mom says, she had a low iron count so she couldn't donate anyway. i find myself laughing. ha! low iron count!
and then an older woman comes in and refuses to take the informational pamphlet, which you must take if you want a number, if you want to fill out the little 39 Q. question sheet, if you want to donate blood. she says something snippy like, it's not changed. it hasn't changed in 15 years!
the worker having been verbally assulted with unwarranted hostility hesitantly gives her her number. she stands there feeling bad for a second and flips through it anyway grumbling about it. i'm like lady, shut the hell up, you're saving three lives already!
also if you're CMV negative that means your blood can go to children. Little babies. you know. and also don't forget afterward you get to pick what colorful wrap your arm gets and you get water and a selection of snack treats... don't forget the sticker! "I donated blood today..." which is way better than the voted sticker because you're like really saving lives with it and not just keeping the democratic system afloat.
they take my temperature and it's 97.2. i'm always running low like that. the woman says, wow, always? even in the summer. yah, i say. hmm. she says. am i freak? am i going to die of a non-specified disease...
did you know that in addition to saving three lives you can also donate plattletes?. those people are hard core. they have, well they're a step above me. because really this is only my second time donating. i make no pretenses to being a 65 gallon donor. and only 30% of first time donors donate again... slackers. i'm already a step ahead! and as my mom and the give-life website remind me it's the right thing to do. whatever! it's my hot body, i'll do what i want!
hey and did you know I'm B+. which is a rare blood type (like 9%, ah yah). makes me feel all special but not as special as those ABneg types. poor bastards.
www.givelife.org
also did you know it's inherited... so i could only be B or O. that's my lot in life. so it'd be kind of a clever way to see if your paternal hunches are right... sort of personal like showing you my nickers- or my eye color. blink. blink.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
another "chronicles" excerpt
Thursday, January 6
S. didn’t snore at all last night, but tonight all I hear is his breathing. I have one more day of work before the weekend and all I can think about is all the things that I have planned, how there will never be enough time for it all so that I can relax before Monday comes again. On this swirling list I have included things that have been left standing for months, like canceling the credit cards I cut up three years ago but are still out there as accounts, floating there.
Why is the house so quiet? Usually there are many sounds, like either the dishwasher or the laundry machine running, or both. Or the heat is usually on, but I guess it has not kicked in this week because it is so warm outside.
Why can’t I be happy that tomorrow is Friday?
And why is the breathing all I hear?
I have latched onto this sound and only this sound, and know that it’s over. I will have to sleep in the other room, and the most annoying part is that the bed in there has plates and miscellaneous other breakable crap that I plan to sell on Ebay over the next few months or so. And it is dark, and even if it weren’t dark, I still wouldn’t be able to see. But there are mere hours left in which to sleep.
"I’m going to have to go in the other room," I announce loudly, in a huff.
Poor S. starts and says, "What? Why? What’s the matter."
"You’re breathing," I accuse him. "It’s all I can hear."
I snatch my pillows, the alarm clock, and slam the door to the other room. The plates come down off the bed, crashing into a heap. I am such a bitch, a klutzy bitch.
And the next day I wake up, for a minute thinking I am in the Right Bed, the one with my snoring husband who I love, but then I remember that I’m not, and that I’ll have to apologize for being such a jackass, because I really should.
"I’m sorry," I say, as I lay across him. The dogs lay on other side of him, his morning harem.
"It’s okay," he says. "In a few years, it’ll be one of those noises and you won’t be able to sleep without it."
"Like train tracks, or airplanes?"
"Exactly."
Hmmm.
S. didn’t snore at all last night, but tonight all I hear is his breathing. I have one more day of work before the weekend and all I can think about is all the things that I have planned, how there will never be enough time for it all so that I can relax before Monday comes again. On this swirling list I have included things that have been left standing for months, like canceling the credit cards I cut up three years ago but are still out there as accounts, floating there.
Why is the house so quiet? Usually there are many sounds, like either the dishwasher or the laundry machine running, or both. Or the heat is usually on, but I guess it has not kicked in this week because it is so warm outside.
Why can’t I be happy that tomorrow is Friday?
And why is the breathing all I hear?
I have latched onto this sound and only this sound, and know that it’s over. I will have to sleep in the other room, and the most annoying part is that the bed in there has plates and miscellaneous other breakable crap that I plan to sell on Ebay over the next few months or so. And it is dark, and even if it weren’t dark, I still wouldn’t be able to see. But there are mere hours left in which to sleep.
"I’m going to have to go in the other room," I announce loudly, in a huff.
Poor S. starts and says, "What? Why? What’s the matter."
"You’re breathing," I accuse him. "It’s all I can hear."
I snatch my pillows, the alarm clock, and slam the door to the other room. The plates come down off the bed, crashing into a heap. I am such a bitch, a klutzy bitch.
And the next day I wake up, for a minute thinking I am in the Right Bed, the one with my snoring husband who I love, but then I remember that I’m not, and that I’ll have to apologize for being such a jackass, because I really should.
"I’m sorry," I say, as I lay across him. The dogs lay on other side of him, his morning harem.
"It’s okay," he says. "In a few years, it’ll be one of those noises and you won’t be able to sleep without it."
"Like train tracks, or airplanes?"
"Exactly."
Hmmm.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
M RANTS inspired by Lefroggy blog (or writer inspires other writer in the NEWS)
Let's ignore for a minute there's another storm coming or I would focus on how the sun being out this morn would be a metaphor for a new day, healing and life going on as it should. But it is going to rain again.
People ask you what you want to do because they have nothing else to say. It's like asking about the weather. The usual answers like actor, writer, mega-star, director, jugger-not and what not are such prototypical answers that it actually becomes a derisive and wry statement about your impending disillusionment.
"I don't know" is a ballsy answer. The writer of Reality Bites, lets remember, it's happy time in fiction land where people say "God Bless You" and that means, yes someone to fall in love with forever . . . The writer and their fantasies and their i-don't-know's all get put on screen for us to drool at such a dream because their's is realized at least for that moment until they're eclipsed and they lose their agent and become alcoholics.
"I don't know" was meant to be a Gen-X statement about how NO- it really doesn't matter does it? It's flipping off the man. (oh yah I said it)It's saying I'm open to what life has in store for me. I make my own destiny- I don't need you or anyone to tell me what I should be- I dont even need me to tell me what I should be.
But where-ever you are you have to be happy. Comfort and paying the bills is death. Growth and challenge kickass, except when you're starving, that's the catch.
And besides the world is full of people who settle- They can ONLY ANSWER that question "What do you want to do" because THEY'VE given up looking. Even people who are doing what they want may one day say, wait, I want something else, I don't know what it is but... Contentment isn't a permanent state.
Well anyway I'll shut up- You can always say I'm doing what I want for right now- tomorrow is another question.
And it could just be me being cranky or you being cranky- or we're all withdrawing from our constant OD'ing of Vitamin E. Better go soak up the sun while we have the chance. Ah, yah. that's right. Just the way I like it.
Cali- out.
M.
People ask you what you want to do because they have nothing else to say. It's like asking about the weather. The usual answers like actor, writer, mega-star, director, jugger-not and what not are such prototypical answers that it actually becomes a derisive and wry statement about your impending disillusionment.
"I don't know" is a ballsy answer. The writer of Reality Bites, lets remember, it's happy time in fiction land where people say "God Bless You" and that means, yes someone to fall in love with forever . . . The writer and their fantasies and their i-don't-know's all get put on screen for us to drool at such a dream because their's is realized at least for that moment until they're eclipsed and they lose their agent and become alcoholics.
"I don't know" was meant to be a Gen-X statement about how NO- it really doesn't matter does it? It's flipping off the man. (oh yah I said it)It's saying I'm open to what life has in store for me. I make my own destiny- I don't need you or anyone to tell me what I should be- I dont even need me to tell me what I should be.
But where-ever you are you have to be happy. Comfort and paying the bills is death. Growth and challenge kickass, except when you're starving, that's the catch.
And besides the world is full of people who settle- They can ONLY ANSWER that question "What do you want to do" because THEY'VE given up looking. Even people who are doing what they want may one day say, wait, I want something else, I don't know what it is but... Contentment isn't a permanent state.
Well anyway I'll shut up- You can always say I'm doing what I want for right now- tomorrow is another question.
And it could just be me being cranky or you being cranky- or we're all withdrawing from our constant OD'ing of Vitamin E. Better go soak up the sun while we have the chance. Ah, yah. that's right. Just the way I like it.
Cali- out.
M.
Monday, January 10, 2005
pictures
um, so wasn't i suppose to do year in review? well anyway it turned out to be a random sampling of Nov/Dec highlights. we can't have everything can we.
Sunday, January 9, 2005
Saturday, January 8, 2005
peace
there was a lot of profound thought there. it lasted about 6 minutes. (I can't be bothered to write it down, but it's intimidating.)
To follow will be picture highlights of my last 2004 adventures... I can't say I'll have any more, for various reasons- like debt, rain, and apathy, so you might as well enjoy these.
To follow will be picture highlights of my last 2004 adventures... I can't say I'll have any more, for various reasons- like debt, rain, and apathy, so you might as well enjoy these.
Monday, January 3, 2005
Happy New Year Part Two!!
next year i'm buying noisemakers and hats, because this year i felt that was the only thing really missing from our celebration. and no one sang "auld lang syne," but it was playing in my head so that's okay.
i didn't play texas hold 'em, but i did play chasing quarters. no money won, but i did have a massive headache the next day from mixing wine, beer, liquor and champagne. however, it wasn't near the worst hangover i have ever had, so i say, good times.
bender has a limp from chasing too many tennis balls thrown by abiding partygoers in the backyard. however, i think she thinks it was worth it, too.
and the weather! can i just say, as curmudgeonly as i usually am about untimely weather, i.e. sunny skies and birds chirping in january, when it should be bitter freezing and requiring the wear of a pea coat--it is now sunny and when i woke up the birds were chirping! how great is that. i think i get grumpier in the fall. because once it turns over to the new year, any untimely warmth then qualifies as spring-like, and i do love spring. it is the very best season.
also, the house is de-Christmas-fied, which is always a little sad, but then that's why it's so neato when it does come around again. it's like flowers, you know. the beauty lies in its transcience, yadda yadda.
and here i am at work, so wishing that the birds weren't singing now only because it makes me jealous of a former self, the one who got to go to classes and worked only part-time in a happier, more relevant environment, and at night went to classes, and during the day watched TV and wrote and went to the grocery store, which, let's be honest, is the best time to go. of course i was racking up mountains of loans then, but at this point i can't afford to pay them back, so what's the difference?
new year's resolutions
--work toward becoming independently wealthy, or at least work from home
--continue authorship of "chronicles" and other as-yet-undesignated projects
--send said projects to people who might like to publish them!! ideally for money, but if not that's okay, too
--be "discovered"
--mod-podge
--don't kill plants
--have less road rage when by myself in the car (already broken once, okay twice, on the way to work this morning
--don't make dumb resolution to be at work on time because that would be a second one i've already broken this morning, as forgot to set alarm.*
*however, it pleases penelope to note that no sense of panic was felt at being late. in fact, rather enjoyed fact of having extra sleep, and therefore an exceptionally pleasing end to an exceptionally pleasing weekend.
i didn't play texas hold 'em, but i did play chasing quarters. no money won, but i did have a massive headache the next day from mixing wine, beer, liquor and champagne. however, it wasn't near the worst hangover i have ever had, so i say, good times.
bender has a limp from chasing too many tennis balls thrown by abiding partygoers in the backyard. however, i think she thinks it was worth it, too.
and the weather! can i just say, as curmudgeonly as i usually am about untimely weather, i.e. sunny skies and birds chirping in january, when it should be bitter freezing and requiring the wear of a pea coat--it is now sunny and when i woke up the birds were chirping! how great is that. i think i get grumpier in the fall. because once it turns over to the new year, any untimely warmth then qualifies as spring-like, and i do love spring. it is the very best season.
also, the house is de-Christmas-fied, which is always a little sad, but then that's why it's so neato when it does come around again. it's like flowers, you know. the beauty lies in its transcience, yadda yadda.
and here i am at work, so wishing that the birds weren't singing now only because it makes me jealous of a former self, the one who got to go to classes and worked only part-time in a happier, more relevant environment, and at night went to classes, and during the day watched TV and wrote and went to the grocery store, which, let's be honest, is the best time to go. of course i was racking up mountains of loans then, but at this point i can't afford to pay them back, so what's the difference?
new year's resolutions
--work toward becoming independently wealthy, or at least work from home
--continue authorship of "chronicles" and other as-yet-undesignated projects
--send said projects to people who might like to publish them!! ideally for money, but if not that's okay, too
--be "discovered"
--mod-podge
--don't kill plants
--have less road rage when by myself in the car (already broken once, okay twice, on the way to work this morning
--don't make dumb resolution to be at work on time because that would be a second one i've already broken this morning, as forgot to set alarm.*
*however, it pleases penelope to note that no sense of panic was felt at being late. in fact, rather enjoyed fact of having extra sleep, and therefore an exceptionally pleasing end to an exceptionally pleasing weekend.
happy new year
so how does it feel to be on the 3rd day of 2005. i'll tell you the torrents of rain are getting-- is getting, a bit old. as they say in, done. over. soooo 5 minutes ago.
Today
Jan 03 Rain / Thunder 53°/41° 90 % Penelope gone missing from Blog. Please find.
but who wants a drought really? i don't want to do dishes in the bathtub. do you? i mean isn't the drain gross enough already with unspecified hair and what not. mostly it's the what not. i don't know how it accumulates but there it is, usually slightly chunky or slimy mixed in with everything. as in, unrecognizable as anything. ew. gross.
so let's talk about resolutions:
anyone have any? i can't say that i've paid much attention to the new year coming and going- although on the particular transitional night i was having some very good hands of poker and had it not been winner takes all, i would've cashed in my winnings instead of going down down down in a blaze of glory.
but here's some off the cuff resolutions of the decade (okay, year):
begin great californian novel.
join the drove of people who are exercising near celebrities who have to exercise.
finish collection of british rock invasion soundtrack collections.
leave the country once.
get mostly out of debt and keep deferring those college loans.
okay, i'm on track. let's get going here.
Today
Jan 03 Rain / Thunder 53°/41° 90 % Penelope gone missing from Blog. Please find.
but who wants a drought really? i don't want to do dishes in the bathtub. do you? i mean isn't the drain gross enough already with unspecified hair and what not. mostly it's the what not. i don't know how it accumulates but there it is, usually slightly chunky or slimy mixed in with everything. as in, unrecognizable as anything. ew. gross.
so let's talk about resolutions:
anyone have any? i can't say that i've paid much attention to the new year coming and going- although on the particular transitional night i was having some very good hands of poker and had it not been winner takes all, i would've cashed in my winnings instead of going down down down in a blaze of glory.
but here's some off the cuff resolutions of the decade (okay, year):
begin great californian novel.
join the drove of people who are exercising near celebrities who have to exercise.
finish collection of british rock invasion soundtrack collections.
leave the country once.
get mostly out of debt and keep deferring those college loans.
okay, i'm on track. let's get going here.
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