ok, yeah, but--

did you know that the entire season 2 of america's next top model was playing today on vh1. i have seen season 1 on dvd, and then seasons 3 & 4 when they aired. season 2, i was waiting for the dvd. but now--voila. right on vh1, out of the blue. eeeheehee.

also, today is the first day in approximately ten years, or two and a half weeks, penelope time, that i haven't felt like walking death. i'm knocking on wood for this new anti-nausea medicine. it's possible that it may be working.

what do we think of the crunchywrap supreme from taco bell?
bueller?
i give it two thumbs up.

all this morning i found myself feeling increasingly evil toward corporate america. like, how does it, or anyone, or anything, even function in this world? all it takes is a few weeks on the "inside" to see that pretty much every organization is supremely f-ed up, with seemingly no fix. if i got a $2,000+ cell phone bill, you can bet a) i would be calling customer service and b) i would be livid. and then if it was dealt with in the only way a certain company has been dealing with it, which is to correct the error on the account, submit the credit, have the credit be rejected until a supervisor comments the account, and then have the supervisor completely ignore the problem because they are swamped with the multitude of other ridiculous issues within the company, i would leave. leave, leave, leave. well, first i would ask to speak with a supervisor, and then i would leave. agh. i feel sometimes like i'm working for enemy, but then i realize i'm just working for the idiot. i no longer care. that's it. i'm done!

ooo, and then someone said today that my husband i keep bad house. which is so patently untrue, unless you are judging with the eyes of emily gilmore? we have two dogs, black and brown. if you are counting the dog hair and some dishes in the sink, and maybe the smudges on the all-white cabinets, all-white kitchen floor, and all-white bathroom, then perhaps we have an argument on our hands. but other than that, bite me, ass-face. i can't think of anything more mature to say than that. i like my house.

but really, i remain in a good mood. tomorrow is friday, glorious friday! and already in the neighborhood, fireworks explode.

so yah, like, i totally made this 4U.

dear so and so,

There wasn't that much to surf on the web today. Bor-ing! So i went outside, played with the dogs, which was alright- when they decide to give me the ball. Anyway it was getting hot, so I had enough of that. And I'm soooo sad- the peaches are all leaving the tree. No, we didn't have a big harvest. Also, sooo sad. Right now i'm eating a pastrami sandwich and drinking peach iced tea. I made it myself- thank you very much. (both- lol!) I can't bah-leive you think i'm lazy. what-ever. I have like, 2 hours to kill before GG. I think i'll totally die of boredom before it comes on. I'm sooo not into surfing the tv for "2nds"- no spankyew.

Okay, ttyl,
xoxo. m-

corners of the garden

corners of the garden

grr.

Pain on the LeftSide

Apparently yesterday after a long record of no mis-haps on the bike the "universe" felt fit to right the scale. I pride myself on my cat like ability to land on my feet, avoiding collisions, falls, slips, ditches, cracks- and that has left me with plenty of near misses...except with the snowboard. My head and the snow, contacted with near-concussion regularity. Skiing, biking, simple things like walking... i stay up and mobile. Except for yesterday.

As it is, southbound went well- a headwind that kept me cool, a slight but not overbearing resistance to my imperciptable downhill journey- and a nice smooth turn to my destination. ON the way back it was quite a different story, as if I had set sail on an entirely bad day, an ill-willed a'curse'd day. The sun beat fiercely down upon me. There was no wind. I was going "uphill", out of water, butt sore and arm tired, cursing my way home along the few miles stretch of Lankershim Blvd. Eternity, and why I hate northbound journeys crossed my mind.

At one point a motorist felt fit to tell me to follow the traffic rules, to which i responded or rather yelled, without an explative i might add, "What are you talking about?" Which increased the muttering dissonance in my head- "I was turning left, sure i didn't signal, but the car stopped so i went, damn sun, and i'm like any other motorist, and people really shouldn't speak when they don't know what they're talking about and i'm wearing a helmut and i'm doing my best, and i'm hot, did i do something wrong? i didn't do anything wrong! Jackasses, all of them jackasses."

Quiet down you.

So with relief I realize I am .2 miles from home. All i have to do is TURN RIGHT onto my street. Alas, an abnormal amount of water happens to gather there in the pocket. For no apparent reason.

I'm going a normal speed. I'm not even leaning into the turn. I recall looking down and even-ing out my feet. Apparently that slight movement of foot to pedal was my down fall.

And down i went, like a beautiful and fast slide into home base, down I went into the water. Woosh. Muckish, sewage-like, dirty with oil and grit and who-knows-whatelse-water. There was a moment where I said to myself, "Ah, refreshing". But soon as the smell and the grit running up my right arm and neck refused to dissipate I was forced to come to terms with my unpleasant condition.

To add insult to my uninjured state a silver honda turned right onto the street and didn't even slow down. Maybe they thought I was "okay"? I don't know. But I was on the ground and they kept going. A simple window roll down, and a "Hey are you okay?" Would've sufficed or perhaps a perplexed look or even abject laughter, but no nothing. You know how I hate indifference! Asshole. That's what's wrong with the world. I don't even have the right to be embarrassed. Just pissed off!

Not only that but I slid on my right side which had my phone in the mesh pocket of my backpack. My precious, beautiful phone. I peddled home with fury or okay, consternation, and slammed my bike to the ground. (I felt bad about it afterward)... I then proceeded to ply open my phone, get the q-tips and the air duster out and go to work. Nevermind that my ass was soaking wet or that I was dripping sewage puddles- I had to save my phone.

(And SCENE)

The next day, without even a scab or a battle scar to show for it, I woke with pain on my left side and a krik in my neck. My phone is still working. That's the important thing.

craft time

i'm thinking about making a paper chain for the harry potter countdown. i've been re-reading the books in backward order, and i'm down to one. i have well over two weeks to finish, which is way, way too much time. so, a middle project to distract? some might suggest the reading of actual literature, the pursuance of more productive and/or intellectual activities.

i, however, suggest a paper chain.

i'm going to have nightmares

about brown recluse spiders, seeing as they have now infiltrated our ADS. thanks, mendacious. beware the power that you yield!

the oozing wound, gaping larger by the second, a permanent scar...

i'm not feeling creative, but imagination has not yet left the building, thank you very much.

giant teddy bear that will come to life in an electrical storm and one day reak havoc upon the campus unless the mad scientists or val kilmer get to it first.

it's like taking happy pills but different

San Diego, CA, May 29, 2005 - With a loud thwack, artist Tim Hawkinson cracked a bottle of Chandon champagne on one of the boulders that make up the 370,000-pound sculpture called "Bear." The May 27 christening was part of a topping-off ceremony, after engineers and workmen maneuvered a huge rock 'head' on top of the 20-foot-tall teddy bear that now sits permanently at the center of the new engineering courtyard on the UCSD campus.

the "mole crab"

oh, the grunion

they did not, did not, did not run.
and we were sad.

it's not like i went snipe hunting. grunion are real, the state of california says so. but they did not, did not, did not run.
and we were sad.

i'm going to stop short of defending myself- i went into this with a carefree exuberance. okay, or at the very least, a wait-and-see attitude.

the evening started with a late-late dinner. i don't normally find it acceptable to eat at 9pm but in this case it served me well- given the journey. after my dinner of bbq chicken and a discussion of why one doesn't keep life-sized dummies in the house, let alone larger than life "killer" clowns...especially where the guests sleep- i went in to watch "the prince of egypt" with my new BF, the percocious 10 year old Becca.

i was initially remorseful over not remembering why the 'pharaoh' wanted to kill all the male babies and no Bible was at hand so i was left shrugging my shoulders and saying, i can't believe i don't remember, as if when asked today I remembered who Gideon was, besides that guy who puts those Bibles in the hotel rooms- I really couldn't say. There was guilt or at least sadness that I was a human with a faulty -less than flawless- processor. Nevertheless someone said, I'm going to have to refresh my memory- and I said, what? read exodus?

not so bad actually.

i watched the movie pondering the "disney inspired vs. god inspired" arguments in my high school bible classes, and i laughed when charlton heston appeared to me. i tried to explain it to the group but they didn't get it. it's funny if you think about it. really. it is. so after a fruitless half-hearted internet search about whether the 'pharaoh' was Ramses II or Thutmose II i gave up and finished watching the movie even as my new BF gave up on the movie and was playing darts. I muttered to my other friend that this was awfully dark subject matter for a disney movie, just as God was killing all the first born in Egypt...

kill-joy.

so around 11 i stole some of my friend's C batteries, got the mag-lite out and hopped in the car with high hopes of the grunion. okay, or at the very least an expectation of adventure.

but they did not, did not, did not run.
oh, the grunion.
and we were sad.

((we went up to point dume, which was in an Angel episode. all i could think of, when i saw the cliff, was how Angel was going to confess his love for Cordelia but she ended up getting abducted by 'the powers that be' (hack writers) and then his own son Connor pushed him off the cliff and tazered him, only to put him in a tomb and drop him to the bottom of ocean.))

tragic, and hastily resolved? yes.

so, after taking my new BF to the bathroom in a restaurant reserved for a private party (luckily they were all drunk and the party was wrapping up), we camped out on the sand. Unfortunately the restuarant had these killer spot lights on the sand and everything was lit up, for a while anyway.

(moment of silence for all the light pollution around the world that won't let you see grunion and the damn stars.)

despite that i identified at least 3 constellations, 2 shooting stars, 4 birds that looked like fast moving flying saucers and 1 airplane. grunion, 0.

not only that, but since there was lack of grunion we had to keep my new BF occupied- you see, that's why child labor works. they're industrious and if you don't fuel their imaginative energy with repetitive tasks they do nothing but pester you and demand you play with them. so we sent her off to gather drift-bamboo and seaweed, good enough for decorations and rope ties. i made a village replete with a piece of wood shaped like a horse and 4 main structures. my next task was to bouy up the infrastructure but it was getting cold and we decided to pack up camp and take a walk down the beach.

time: 2:30am.

the kid was getting restless so we sent her into the ocean which wasn't "that" cold to collect sand crabs. she only got hit by a wave once...

and the sand crabs were HUGE. back in my day they weren't that huge... these were HUGE. and there were lots of them bubbling up in the sand.
http://tsrtp.ucdavis.edu/newsletters/summer_98/homepage.html#Sand%20Crabs

to sum up: we exfoliated our barefeet back to the car and a pixie stix later and an hour past and i was passed out on my friend's couch (not in the killer clown room.)

time: 4:00am

despite the grunion i'm really glad for nights like these, because i need them. there was a certain transendance of youth, easily captured, bcs you felt you had all the time in the world. only 10 years later, and you feel utterly divorced from it. but moonlight. or especially warm-whipped nights trigger the need for flight, for endless talking, for endless walking- for endless-ness. you imagine yourself crawling out of the window with a flashlight, wearing your favorite sweatshirt and breathing in the night. you contemplate all the secret places. you are, after all, searching for something.

the crash of the waves and the abyss of the horizon overtake you as you fall back on your blanket and watch the moon rise. then later when you're on your stomach with a count of shooting stars in your pocket and the tide is rising, the 'fog' rolls in and starts obscuring everything. you find yourself not talking, just watching and listening and feeling yourself a part of the majestic. a part of something infinite. and it is beautiful. and it is grand. and there is no.where.you would rather be. than there. right then. no matter what the time or obligations of the morrow.

They did not, did not, did not run.
Oh, the grunion.
And you find yourself smiling.
Anyway.

burrito feeling

this morning i was sleeping on an air mattress at a friends house... and it was the oddest feeling- i was cold and damp from the air mattress- and too hot from the blanket. so i wrapped myself like a badly made burrito...

which gave rise to the day- and my skirt project, which i would set fire to if i didn't like the pattern so much, and my arrogance of thinking i can do anything i set my mind too, like zipper installation. some things are better left undone.

eww.

this morning i dreamed

last night when i had been researching about spiders and failed to find a website on california spiders i started feeling things crawling over my legs under my desk... then i began to feel a little like miss muffet and i turned around to see a beige-ish spider crawling on my working table. i took a piece of kale that happened to be there and as the spider was stringing its escape to the floor i caught it and threw it outside. i glared into potential pockets of potential spider hiding places and satisfied i went back to my work. but i decided i was too creeped out to continue bcs all i could think of was nests of brown recluses and that awesome movie aracnaphobia starring jeff daniels... not to mention all the black widows i frequently kill on my property. and those spiders are creepy as hell.

but surprisingly i didn't dream about spiders. i dreamnt about chicago. i was helping a friend move or pack or something and then once i was done i made a list of all the places i wanted to visit, including the restaurants- and i left the bldg. i woke up just as i was figuring out which line to take... sucks i didn't get any further.

not traveling sucks. i'm seriously going through withdrawl here! i used up all my universal travel points. there's no way i'm escaping the country this year. i'm sooo sad.

dreams of

last night i dreamed

about a new house and some other odd, random things. i think i only thought about my customers for 10 minutes, after which i said to myself, self, QUIT IT. and i did.

this is an accomplishment.

in addition, i hear that "it's a small world" is open again for business in disneyworld. for some reason, this makes me extremely happy, just thinking about it.

its a what?

cranky arachnologist

and apparently no brown recluses in california, perish the thought:
http://spiders.ucr.edu/myth.html

"These are not the opinions of the University of California Riverside however, they are the opinions of a highly volatile arachnologist who is bloody tired of everybody claiming that every little mark on their body is the result of a brown recluse bite and who believe with a religious zeal that brown recluses are part of the California spider fauna despite the incredibly overwhelming evidence to the contrary. The tone of this article is purposely crafted to mimic the hyperanxious state of the paranoid public because many of them have trouble listening to boring cold scientific presentations (of which this may still be guilty despite my intentions) when their beliefs are solidly based on erroneous general consensus."

in the last hour

i've learned that lemmings aren't suicidal, just stupid: http://www.snopes.com/disney/films/lemmings.htm

i've also learned about grunion and that they really do run: http://www.dfg.ca.gov/mrd/grnindx3.html#tides

killer algae... muhahaha

http://swr.nmfs.noaa.gov/hcd/caulerpa.htm

over and over 

more of the same

Chew gum: orbit winterment. it does give me that fresh clean feeling.

Contemplate moleskin. Are they those little blind things that live underground?

Favorite quote this hour: "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed..." 2Cor4:8-9

Email to a friend: i said that, contrary to evidence of a destroyed blog you managed to survive the collapse of the tall bldg- by crawling out thru some cooling ducts, leading a plucky gang of wise-cracking survivors to rescue with you. the puppy started licking your face when you had almost given up hope, thank god he lead you to water and you were able to carry on from there. the rescue crew made sure you didn't fall on any rubble and you were able to wave and smile as thousands cheered at your survival. surely it was the dawn of the new day as you breathed in the sweet smell of morning air- or maybe it was freedom.

Contemplate delicious brownies under a glass dome: Examine contents at a friend's house. You wouldn't think a little magic would keep me on my diet, but it did. I didn't sign up for grass in my chocolate. Gah.

Eat Oatmeal: mmm, i do like the chewy overcooked kind- thanks for asking.

pondering a possibly eternal state of grumpiness

it's like a coat i can't shed. made of moleskin. i don't exactly know what moleskin is, but i have to figure it's some sort of oppressive, possibly hairy substance, uglier than Hagrid's suit for special occasions.

here's the last thing i want: to become my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. DeSantis, who before she was pregnant, was the World's Coolest Sixth-Grade Teacher and afterward, was the Scariest Teacher in School. red-faced, uncomfortable, accusatory. downright mean.

i've never been good with excess hormones. right now i feel like my hormones are sitting in an ugly little ball in my stomach. i throw them up in the morning, sometimes. but the supply never depletes itself. they make me not want to eat anything, and then when i do eat, they cause the food to just sit there, hatefully. they cause me not to want to exercise, ever again, a venture i have been successful with for about two or three weeks now.

i wonder how i would feel about my hideous, hateful job if it weren't for the hormones. probably i would still view it as hideous and hateful, but would i handle it better? would i not dream about it at night? would i be able to put it into perspective a little better, like ahahahaha, these silly people and their little cell phones, taking it all so seriously when in the grand scheme of life, it's not. would i still fail my calls? i'm sure. would i care? i'm not sure. do i care now? still the jury is out.

i made brownies today. brownies are happiness.

penelope out.

grrr...arghhh... 

Fish a couple of dried flora from my bra: wonder, how things find their way there.

Smell the gardenia to my left.
Take a sip of water to my right.
Decide to read "enjoying the presence of god", maybe ephesians first.
Look at the dirt under my fingernails and push the keyboard away.
Eat sunflower seeds, read 1 Corinthians 1 instead.

(time lapse)

Favorite phrase I read: "please accept my distractions, my fatigue, my irritations, and my faithless wanderings..."

Lunch: left-overs.
Work on photo album.
Converse with friend.
Most hopeful phrase from my friend: I think it'll work out.

Munch on carrot.
Eat hummas and a piece of bread.
Watch cats run in and out of room: push out thoughts involving their prey.
Imagine a portal opening up onto a field of green.

Watch Gilmore Girls.
Decide I have to stop typing sometime...
Think, one day my writing might involve actual fiction.
Decide it doesn't matter.
Rub my eye and push the keyboard away.
Mental note to not strain neck toward the Tv. Just turn the chair instead.

bird eats man. 

watch hummingbird drink from feeder with binoculars: imagine myself in a bird sanctuary on assignment. make notations as to types of birds observed. contemplate love affair with park ranger. realize, it won't work out. we're from two different worlds. there is a magical lunch in the tall grasses by the waterside, a tearful goodbye. a love letter caught on the wind.

scratch nose: realize: rotted-flower-water smell permeated hands. curse vase from whence it came.
wash hands with anti-bacterial rasberry gel from B&B.
get back to computer: grimace with the knowledge the soap has failed, think of what else will quell the smell.
lotion. it worked.
play with dogs: lose a ball on the roof. refuse to get it. get new ball. thank heaven that i have an aunt who plays tennis. wonder, how much it would cost to supply dogs with balls from year to year.

wonder why the wisteria is blooming this late in the season.
water all the pots- just bcs i like to play with water.
feel like mouth has taken on rotting water smell, brush teeth.

bring me a lizard and nobody gets hurt 

good morning.

my list of to do's as they happen:

water
power bar
review blog: wonder where has the time gone?
get more water
blog reviewed: conclusion- uncertain and somewhat depressing.
outside to trim roses and sunflowers: go on fruitless search for ladder. contemplate miscellaneous people coming into yard in the middle of the night to borrow things. think, why not steal the bike then.
eat 2 peaches off tree: think, what else can i cut down.
get call about job: decide it's shady. he says, well is that something that you'd be able to do. i say, i don't see why not. mentally i say, well, i can think of several things and several reasons why NO is my answer. refuse to devulge and leave conversation on a positive note.

wave to the people charlie 

don't look too far over the rainbow...

sure i'm a jackass, but um your tv choices are sort of freaking me out. well except for the eerie fact we watch GG at exactly the same time or that whole meet the fockers quirk. i suppose we can't be alike all the time. i don't know why i find reno 911 funny, and yet i do. i won't give it up. so i can see your point.

also, today i had a brush with employment. there was a glint of hope and some glee- it would be a writer's p.a. gig... wow, so close to the gold i can see the fence and the heavy steel door. i even got to talk to someone who knows someone. i'm only 3 removed from the person i contacted so that's a total plus. and i spoke to them on the phone- sure they were going thru their messages, and hadn't had their morning coffee or gone to the bathroom but they were nice and took my number- sure they didn't call me back- but they took my number, and told me why they wanted to keep the conversation down to 3 seconds... more or less. (god bless my friend who would be my cheerleader.) these little leads help keep me going, help me to understand that i do desire human contact and new experience- if even, a paycheck and possible career advancement. it sort of jars me out of my privilaged class reality or really ambivilance, bcs lets face it, anyone can be apathetic to their own existence. how blessed am i to have running water enough for the garden to grow, all my limbs, my rolls of soon to be diminished fat and time upon time to contemplate such things. i won't be this exuberant often, and it wasn't much. i feel i'm innately betraying my namesake. so i'm going to roll my eyes and take a shower... maybe not care at all that the water washing over me isn't a waste.

i told a friend today that i wanted her to be happy. and she replied, i don't know if the place exists. or if i ever will be. or how to find my way there. and i replied, it does. i am... i wanted to write something else but i didn't think i could explain it over email.

love the pretty pictures

and Harry Potter: The Prisoner of Azkaban. and, summer television. here are the warm fuzzy blankets of my life, currently, how i am easing my way through morning sickness and the summer blahs:

• Hit Me Baby One More Time: i cannot express in words how much reality-tv crossovers warm my soul. is anyone out there writing a thesis-like analysis of how Rob VanWinkle, a.ka. Vanilla Ice, totally would not have done a show like Hit Me before going on The Surreal Life, and working the huge chip off of his shoulder with the help of twinkly-toothed Erik Estrada? not only did he seem completely relaxed and like he was having fun with the whole affair, but he did his one-hit wonder in its original version, totally kicked it with his own version of Destiny Child's "Survivor"--no other artist to date has done a cover on the show with their own lyrics--and won the audience vote. booyah. and do we remember how he defaced his early nineties image that was plastered over the set of Surreal? this is progress, people.
• Blow Out: Jonathan in all of his arrogant glory reminds me of a more vain, more controlling, richer male version of my very own Evil Spa Boss. He must. Create. The Best Hair Product. Ever. i just enjoy seeing him cut famous people's hair. and the song, do whatcha gotta do... here is an instance that completely speaks my argument on why Britney and Kevin: Chaotic, is not good, and is completley skin-crawly, and makes me wish for the days of watching Mini Me ride around drunk and naked on his scooter to pee in the corner of the exercise room. because Jonathan is completely repulsive, and yet due to the way the show is filmed, he is utterly fascinating and i can't stop watching.
• Bridezillas: I miss the tinkly piano backdrop music of last summer, and it's not clear that these are all NYC brides, which somehow had its own flavor. and i miss Miho and Joe, just because I liked saying their names in my head. but ah, Bridezillas. no better summer tv, except:
• Reruns of Gilmore Girls and The OC. I am suddenly entirely content with watching shows that I have seen more than once, and have even seen recently, so that I could recite the whole freaking episode in my sleep. there are becoming my snuggly pajama pants, my Taco Bell Nachos Supreme. need i say more than Star's Hollow and Newport Beach?

For My Anonymous Cheerleader 

Turkey 

Paramount 

Chronicles of a Jackass: Revisited

Reasons why Mendacious is a Jackass:

Following the conditions of "nothing" since the 2 year marker: ie. fame-whore

1: She worked for Paramount and we got to make asses out of ourselves in front of Kiefer Sutherland (yum). Who said he was an animal basking in the sun? Oh yes, that's right. You did. Also, Free Movies and a visit to Dr. Frickin' Phil. Come on, remember the free muffins and coffee? How could that not be a good time?

2: May I remind you that you went to Turkey? Seriously. You went to Turkey. You have also been to Ireland. (Jackass).

3: Following, you worked at Bunim-Murray and got to Log "The Inferno II"... How is that not cool? Or at the very least the beginning of something cool? (Do the Good Guys win? No, don't tell me.)

Just because you're neither married, nor pregnant, nor purchasing a house does not give you absolute rights on the absence of landmarks, certainly less dazzling landmarks, but you're still a Jackass.

interlude

mendacious had a habit of eating sunflower seeds for breakfast. to the right, on her desk lay the bag, and to the left of her keyboard lay a heap of seeds- which she took from occassionally- not unlike a chipmunk would store up seeds for later in her mouth. moving the seeds from left to center, shucking them, and then to the right, and finally out. eating them one at a time engaged too much of her hands which she used for typing- or surfing the web or whatever it was but i hesitate to say it was actual work.

kimono series 

le chat 

illusory world.

so hello. the blog is still here. we haven't gone away. wee. good times. so... yah. i'm bored. it does go back to the feeling like there's nothing to talk about even though i know there is. like there was this lady, my friend's neighbor who has a giant orange tabby named chewbacca. and it walks on a leash. she told me that she muscled CatFancy magazine into publishing pictures of her bohemith cat. CatFancy made the mistake of saying, "we're not in the habit of featuring corpulent cats." (more like fat cats, which is also fun- than overweight cats, which is probably what she said) but anyway, the lady then went on a tyriad and called every single department at CatFancy over several weeks, demanding penance or vengence or something- so they capitualted to the corpulent cat, chewbacca and he is going to be in the September issue of CatFancy. She concluded our talk with- "People, don't fuck with my cat."

Awesome. I know. At least the cat likes me, but the lady might be jealous. Mental noted, keep my distance.

But here's the thing, do you ever have that feeling that your life is happening in 3rd person or only in association with so and so went here and did this with... friends... i would be the friend. the friend that things aren't happening to. but how can i complain about that? if i were to write my memoirs it would be "and thus passed an uneventful time in her life." am i just a landmark whore? like it's been 2 yrs since my last landmark, so apparently without one i lead an incomplete, trite and capricious existence? like, no spotlight = ?... oh god. that's horrible. i'm a fame-whore. i have peace, i have contentment, i can pay my bills, lead a leisurely enough existence to read Don Quioxte without compunction... how can that be boring.

100 Ways to Get Thru Work from Now Until January: An Excerpt

79. Pretend you're dumb, like the girl down the row, thus making you less sensitive to customer attitude and your own mistakes.

78. Think of other places you've been, i.e. London, Chicago, Paris.

77. Plan what you'll eat for lunch or dinner, whatever's next.

76. Become obsessed, in the manner of an all-consuming cold, by your latest pregnancy symptoms.

75. Perform sock puppet shows starring you and choice customers.

74. Motivate self: kid will be spazzy if you're too spazzy during pregnancy.

73. REMEMBER THE BENEFITS.

72. Invent alternative cocktails, in addition to The Warm Bath.

71. Pretend you just got lost on the way to the grocery store and simply, temporariliy, landed at this desk.

70. Pretend you're on a show like "Candid Camera" (shouldn't be hard), and it's all a colossal joke.