Search

I'm really not a mean person, but I'm excessively entertained by certain mean things. Like Al Roker falling over last week during the hurricane on the Today show--and I love Al Roker. If he got hurt, it would not have been so funny, it really would not have. But there is something hopelessly amusing, every time there is a hurricane and they send some poor, hopeless sap out in the high winds. Ridiculous! Pan to a flag, or a tree or something to show how hard it's blowing outside. A smashed traffic light--something. But no, instead, they send out a live reporter and a camera crew. In my town, it's always the scrub at the bottom of the totem pole. On the Today show, I guess Al Roker still gets stuck with the job. Hi-larious! I can't help myself. Lying in bed that morning (flanked by the doggies) before work, I laughed and laughed when he could hardly hear Matt and Katie in NY, and then when his notes blew out of his hands, and then when they panned back to show the guy whose job it was to hug Al Roker's legs. In fact, I think it's fair to say that made my whole day.

Also last week, I taunted the office fish. I admit it, it was cruel and uncalled for. I said, Look at him. He's going to bite it. Every day, I said it, and I would sometimes get lost staring at his bowl, waiting for him to kick off. I would google "death symptoms for Bettas" and tell everyone the signs: he's hanging out at the top of the bowl all the time! He's on his way out, I'm telling you.

His name was Search, and he was a three-year-old red Betta. And he was cute--he lived in a peace lily bowl. We lost one other fish here once when it got too cold over the weekend, and we've had some issues recently with temperature, where our own toes are about to fall off, and the water in the two fishbowls gets really cold, and the fish get really still, and it's scary. Benecio the blue Betta in the fishbowl nextdoor to Search's bowl, just this morning, required some warmer water to be added to his bowl, and I was genuinely worried. But that was after I found Search dead.

He lived a long, good life. In fish years, he was like, 5,023. Yet it was sad to see him hovering, pale and lifeless, on the bottom of the bowl over the glass rocks.

And I flushed him before too many could see. I did. I had to. First of all, the bowl sits right by my desk--I don't want to look at that. It was sick, man. Second of all, I didn't want to needlessly upset anyone. There was no place to bury him, I didn't want him just sitting in the trash wrapped in a paper towel all day--it was the proper thing to do. Third, well, I feel a little responsible. Could I have caused Search's death by egging him on?

To compensate, I removed the jaunty ribbon from Search's bowl and made him an epitath on a mini post-it note:

R.I.P. Search
You were a good fishy.

Yummy Mummies

Yummy Mummies, by Penelope.

A tasty chocolate cookie with mini chocolate chips and a white chocolate coating. Two mini chocolate chips serve as eyes, and a toothpick is used to score mummy bandage-like lines on the body.

Also worth mentioning is that these cookies, before the white chocolate coating, look remarkably like Mr. Hanky.

Midnight Spider

I interrupted this large spider midmeal over my bed. I tried to scoop up this fiesty guy and his meal but the legs of the cob-webspider was all that was left. He reared up his pincers and front legs a couple of times and after blinding him with the flash and stil not getting a good picture I let him go. I have inquired to "bugman" of "whatsthatbug.com" to see if he knows. So perhaps in the future I will be able to tell you. Unless one of you knows? Please do tell.

Malaise

malaise

One entry found for malaise.
Main Entry: mal·aise
Pronunciation: m&-'lAz, ma-, -'lez
Function: noun
Etymology: French malaise, from Old French, from mal- + aise comfort -- more at EASE
1 : an indefinite feeling of debility or lack of health often indicative of or accompanying the onset of an illness
2 : a vague sense of mental or moral ill-being ...a malaise of cynicism and despair

FTA

hello. nothing new to report.

Today
Oct 28
Mostly Sunny
69°/51° 10%
Feels like partly cloudy with a chance of rain.
58/44

day 5- no really. (rant)

i was being less than optimistic in my post yesterday which i wrote this morning bcs suddenly it started raining and wouldn't stop. and i had a pang in the chest twice at the thought of being unemployed again, and my friend continues to set unattainable goals which she pretends are realistic then when you expect them she rationalizes her way out of them, thereby crushing your spirit and making you cry, which leaves you alone at 12am eating m n'ms and writing a blog while she's in her bedroom having a conversation with her 'husband', even though earlier she complains that she'll be getting no sleep at all... bcs i see her "hurrying" to bed. right.

keep in mind i see her maybe once a year and she treats this week as if i see her everyday or am some sort of roommate who she can chose to ignore or engage depending on a whim. am i an attention whore? it makes me wonder. but i would never treat my guests so horribly- i mean there's one thing such as personal space and independence then there's just a disconnect-

for instance- this whole day was suppose to be an "us" day- you know what i mean when friends term it that. Her words, not mine. there's a certain understanding that the day will encompass all of what the two of you are TOGETHER. keep in mind this whole week i've spent whole days wandering the city by myself- and really it's thrilling. i love alone time but then the scale starts to tip and i'm in moody, depressive, i'm ALONE, zone. and yes as much as i love chicago- i do not want to comment on the shennanigans of otters to myself. "oh miss, did you say something?" "yes, to my IMAGINARY FRIENDS!" my bad. i thought i'd have more to occupy me. but i am not fucking spending $25 on looking at king tuts mask and a dagger. so clearly this was not the time to suddenly decide that it's all about you. first she says although it's her day off, which she said she specifically took so we could spend the day together- she needs to go into work... her choice. but that i won't even notice bcs she's going in early. then i call her and she says she doesn't feel good and no longer wants to go to the restaurant i want to go to. i complain- since she feels this way bcs who can survive on a banana for breakfast and not feel dizzy... anyway by the time i get there she's now okay with the restaurant choice but then lets it slip - like "depending on what you're going to do" i might go home. the hell?! what I"M GOING TO DO!!

bcs she got up at 5 bcs she had to work- and we're going to be spending 2 nights out past 12 (bcs she had to buy us tickets to 2 musicals- when really the musicals are about her- fuck musicals. that's what i say- but bcs i know she enjoys them i'm going to go and not complain.) and she just really needs a nap and doesn't now want to walk around the city with me in the rain (even though i'd already given up hope of a boat tour but that wasnt enough of a sacrifice) and if i can't suggest something then (even though we were going to go shopping for her)... and then she gets mad when i start giving her crap about it- and the day never recovers primarily bcs then during lunch she tries to rally, half-heartedly and says well maybe a movie- except i can't see the one movie i alone suggested to you prior to your coming, bcs i HAVE to see it with I----. you know how insignificant that phrase makes me feel- very, very, very small. it may seem nothing but i see her once a year and she can't even concede to seeing a movie with me. bcs it has to be with the man she's spent the last 6 years of her life with, 24/7, 7 days a week. thanks.

i spend 9 minutes on the phone ROAMING to vent to my 2nd friend who assumed i wouldn't be spending so much time alone- and i had previously asked her and been denied, to take if not a full day, a 1/2 day off- just for kicks. like, well i'm going here and i love being alone so much i almost didn't bother to ask you.

fucking fuck.
so i spent 4 hours+ in a movie theatre- reading, then watching the beautiful but god awfully fucking vapid marie antoinette- which actually matched my mood perfectly- just brooding ennui the whole movie and all i could think was her poor kid dies alone in a jail cell @ 5 of TB or something fucking god awful that i mightve as well seen blooddripping down all the walls of versailles as you knew the horror literally awaiting them and to see them hopelessly not "getting it"... and then only to meet my friend for her to ask if i've found a restaurant- yes. yes, i walked around in the rain so we could fucking find a place even though i asked you to find one for us on the internet- and after a torturously long dinner, it was a good thing she was chatty, we had to sit thru 2+ hours of a fucking pirate queen musical, which lacked the heart of ireland and the grit of piracy... i mean do i get to see Rent? or maybe Spamalot?... NO. could the day have gotten any worse. i can ONLY hope tomorrow i recover from the vileness that was today- and finish my vacation on a high note. and VOW never to visit friends again on this premise again. ever. like maybe when i go to chicago IF i come back to chicago again- i "might" let them know... might. bcs why expect to spend time with people when they cleary care more about themselves in that moment than your friendship.

M.fucking.OUT.

MENSA

I was going to wait to relate this to you when the "test results" came. But I'll tell you now- so that it'll build in a beautiful anticipation. Do i qualify? The thought of not getting into Mensa is only slightly less disappointing then not following in the footsteps of Geena Davis. But it does go to prove my point that I'm only skirting on the upper eschilon of intelligence, alas, so goes the pattern of my life.

The day started with a little flutter. I was soon to realize that I need more challenge. 2 years out of a lifetime of education, by degrees I became stupid. Study has its worthy purpose, perhaps only that you will sound more intelligent when discoursing about something. But why not? Isn't it time to learn french? or take a figure drawing class. Everyonceandawhile I deliberately study things that are blows to my intelligence, my skill- i like it. Why not?

But MENSA>The Purpose of Mensa is... 'To identify and foster human intelligence for the benefit of humanity' 'To provide a stimulating intellectual and social environment for its members' 'To encourage research into the nature, characteristics, and uses of intelligence' ... hummm. That's not why I want to join.... and if I qualify would I join? I wanted to do this because ... I was bored. I'm a narcissist. I want to find a Mensa husband? Mmm. That's more like it.

The test was on the caltech campus. Very pretty. I couldn't find a map but a pond had 3 signs that said the same thing. I did eventually find the building- and I was sitting across from a Production Acct that works at Paramount. Nice. Too bad she wasn't a showrunner. I might've had to bail on my boss. We both laughed about the test and took our two free pencils. Not the erasers, as the man named Mr. Felt said. We need the erasers, he said. But the bookmark you can take: "How smart are you?"

I totally bombed the math section- The word problem began something about 8.4 gallons of water and .60 cents for a certain amt. of gas and he's got 50 gallons and I was like fuck, my eyes are blurring- just make up something i don' t care. I don't even actually have the time to- Click. Please put your pencil down. Damn-it!

The test itself was comprised of maybe 7 sections- 15-20 questions, in 5-7 minute incremints with a 12 minute problem solving section with 50 questions that no one but 4 people in this man's run as proctor, have finished. I got to question 35.

They also told us a story and 45 minutes later we had to remember things about it- good thing it was about Greek Drama- knew that degree was going to come in handy. Except when the question was, Did the chorus bow down at the sharp note in the flute or did they just simply stop their wild thronging... uh?

The section before this was most edifying to my ego- words. words. words. what do they mean? somehow i knew biovauc meant encampent even though i didn't know how to use it in a sentence nor pronounce it. Propinquity got me but I can't remember if I actually guessed right or not. My first instinct was correct- nearness, but whether I capitulated to my guess or not I can't remember.

My final thought, besides me, smiling, with a sly smirk as I drove away, with one last glimpse of the school of chemical something something, is that I have OCD about bubbles. Yes, fairly monkish of me but true nonetheless. I have to work hard to ignore the pressure of changing my answers to make a more pleasing pattern- and not only that but the probability that there shouldn't be 3 d's in the row- that gives me endless anxiety.

Catherine Hate-Her Jones

I have decided that in addition to garlic, Old Bay seasoning, and certain seafoods, I have one more pregnancy-related aversion: Catherine Zeta-Jones.

I just don't enjoy her anymore. Not that I ever particularly did, but she never used to bother me. I remember years ago when she was on the Rosie show, I almost sort of liked her, with her dark shiny eyes--there was a cuteness about her. I did like the first Zorro movie; she was borderline entertaining as a prissy diva star in America's Sweethearts. And I didn't even care when she began whoring herself out to T-Mobile. I thought it was weird, yes, but then Joan Cusack was doing the same thing for US Cellular, and Harry Connick, Jr. for SunCom, so I just assumed it was becoming a new norm, and that was fine. Sad, but fine. There are worse commercials.

And I never really cared that she was married to old man Michael Douglas, or that she was involved in that stalker lawsuit--like, who would stalk a star, much less Catherine Zeta-Jones? How boring. I guess overall, I just never really thought twice about Catherine Zeta-Jones, one way or the other.

Then recently, randomly, she started to get under my skin. I can't say I particularly loathe her--certainly not as much as Old Bay seasoning. Or Mr. Peepers, or... Carrot Top. I can't say I would willingly devote that much energy to the cause. But I really can't stand the sight of her. I don't want anything to do with the Zorro sequel, I would never sign up for T-Mobile, just on principle, and after this past weekend's Saturday Night Live? Blyech. I would rather eat a big fat garlic clove, plain. No skit was funny, aside from Weekend Update, and this is sad, because SNL recently has been getting a lot better, I think. There are lately a lot fewer skits where you're just like...wha? Or where you're sitting there, slack-jawed with eyes glazed over, plain bored or uncomfortable and embarassed that a particularly flat skit seems like it will never end. However, SNL with Catherine Zeta-Jones brought it all back, with every skit. Or at least 80 percent of the skits, which is all I got through before I decided that a) an hour of my life had been lost forever and b) my time would be better spent deconstructing the psychological trainwreck that is Danny Bonaducci.

Besides that she's unfunny, I'm not even sure what the problem is. Just like Old Bay--is it the celery salt? So seemingly benign, yet so deeply offensive. I don't know. I just know that I plan to stay far, far away from both until such time that I don't run from the room with my Vomit Face on in reaction to the sight of either.

FTA- shoot day @ descanso gardens

this was descanso back in september. gorgeous eh? beautiful dahlias, other flowers i can't name- something, something i would say. fantastic. i want my garden to look like this one dynamic strip of living things. if i had an actual camera i would've done it better justice. i like descanso a bit more than it's uppity sister garden hunington. it has a touch of homespun and wild- alittle more harmonious interplay with mother nature. but then again hunington has art and begs you to be elitist. or at least dress in a train with a lace umbrella. both of these places makes me crave high tea. whose with me?

cancer cell