Adrian!

[cue Rocky theme song]

I'm headed to Philly for some cheesesteak with "sauce and whiz," a jog up the steps of the museum, a little Liberty Bell, and dinner at Morimoto's

Oh yeah, there's a conference there, too. Huh, I forgot about that.

Ok, off to bed.

I heart Shakira

She's the fountain of youth. NO ONE can feel old when they're dancing in their apartment in their skivvies (after a glass or 2 of really good wine) and belting Shakira songs (only the Spanish ones--Shakira shouldn't sing English) at the top of their lungs . No one.

Shootin' at the walls of heartache

Yeah, nothing soothes a heartache like shopping, particularly at Ann Taylor. And I had one hell of a soothing session today, spending $108 on a singular skirt. This is no ordinary skirt mind you; it is chocolate fondue wrapped seductively around my lower body, and the killer part is that it was in a size lower than I normally buy, and that sealed the deal, my friends. That and I'm a sucker for gay Latino salesmen. The only other time I ever spent this much on myself in one outing was at the Banana Republic on Michigan Ave, and I blame it all on the cute little Latino boy toy who flattered his way into my pocketbook--sigh.

NO, it wasn't on sale, but I went back to AT just to get some shoes that I wanted which should've been on sale by now, and they were GONE, so I was not about to let this skirt go. It's a chocolate pencil with an accordion pleat in the back, and it would make Holly Golightly melt like butter. So yes, I spent way too much on this damn skirt, but it's classic, and I'll wear it forever (and if you don't believe that, just look in my closet at clothes I saved from the 80s--which are back in, mind you).

Now I just need something smokin' for the Chinese New Year. It must be red, new and a complete outfit, including undergarments (or so my friend, Terri, tells me), so shopping anyone? I already bought the purse, which is a tad bit larger than the little green one Bonniebell carries her lipsmackers in.

MMMM...must. shop. more.

I am the arrow

Feeling like quoting a little Plath this evening:

"Overexposed, like an Xray.
Who do you think you are?
A Communion Wafer? Blubbery Mary?
I shall take no bite of your body,
Bottle in which I live,

Ghastly Vatican.
I am sick to death of hot salt.
Green as eunuchs, your wishes
Hiss at my sins!
Off, off, eely tentacle!

There is nothing between us!"

from Medusa

Bwahahahah

Glinda, Glinda, I'm a bore
Why is my life not fun anymore?

Ok, not to make my blog into one of those clip shows producers run mid season, but I just had to relive this moment from a year ago.

G, my life has become so much less exciting nowadays. We really need to do something about that.

Whatever happened to that crazy troll? And more importantly, whatever happened to that bottle of Malbec?

The Big O

A friend of mine just called ranting about how he was at dinner with his new girlfriend and was rehearsing in his mind how he was going to tell her he loved her when out of the blue she begins professing her undying devotion to Joel Osteen. When he mentioned that he felt the followers of Joel were the "Jim Jones koolaid guzzling crowd of modern society," she announced suddenly that she had to go to the bathroom and then disappeared for the night, leaving him fuming at his table.

Hey, Praxis, do you think she went to the Cry Room?

Good to know

You Are 49% Addicted to the Internet

You're somewhat addicted to the internet - but who isn't? You can keep it under check, and you're by no means a hermit.

Are You Addicted to the Internet?

Slick has a spaday

The good news: no transmission problems. My friend, Barry, says that I must know how to drive a standard (yeah, I learned on one and have never driven anything else) because the original clutch looks brand new.

The bad news: All the preventative maintenance issues I should've taken care of at 100,000 miles (but were ok then) are now in need. Belts need replacing, a sensor needs replaced, throttle plate needs replacing, spark plug wires need replacing, and oil needs a flushing, so all of those tiny, weeeneenzie, little things equal out to 9 cents short of 1k. Yep. But Barry being the kind soul that he is, gives me the 10% "I've known you since I was in junior high and we used to drink whiskey together (later on) and you'd always make fun of me for being Jeff's little brother but it's ok bc you'd smile and I'd forget about it" discount so we're down to 900. Yippee! But Barry says I can probably eek out 250,000 miles on Slick, so I okd the spa day.

Now I need a spa day.

Not so skareoke?

So I left work today to hang out with some teacher friends at Fox and Hound and then took Slick, my car, in for a spa day. Poor thing is having some spark plug/transmission (maybe)/AC belt/throttle plate problems. It happens when Mazdas hit 141,000 miles. This is the first work (other than general maintenance) that's needed to be done on the car. Mazdas rule!

Then I went to a 30th birthday party with a bunch of people who sing for a living. Yes, these people are all in the Houston Symphony Chorus and the Grand Opera. The wife rented out Spotlight Karaoke for her hubby's bday party, and we had a private VIP room and then the karaoke madness ensued. I think that every genre was represented, including songs from La Boheme, Rocky Horror and Lebowski and some Indian and Tejano ballads. Someone even sang Pat Boone (shudder). I sang everything from Broadway to Dolly Parton (Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeene) with a little Dusty Springfield and Ella Fitzgerald thrown in for good measure. And then there was the political activist who kept changing the words to songs and throwing in lyrics about tying yellow ribbons everywhere.

Oh, and I did get to live out my fantasy of being a Supreme bc I was one of the back up singer/dancers for many a performance this evening.

No Asian Elvis this time folks, but Jackie makes a mean white Russian (despite the fact that she held my credit card in her bra to keep the tab open--THAT was weird). And now, Cranky is sleepy and must go nite nite.

Ladybugs

Years ago, before my major move to Chicago, I was surrounded by butterflies everyday for a month. At least one a day would land on me. After I moved there, I would have at least one a week land on me for 6 years, aggressively like blood sucking demons, really. Ok, not really, but you have to admit that anything with an exoskeleton is pretty damn creepy. This butterfly phenomenon prompted much introspection on my part, and I even bought a couple of butterfly necklaces during this time period. Why--bc butterfly necklaces are so much less creepy than the real thing.

I've changed insects now, however. For 2 weeks now, EVERYDAY, a ladybug has appeared out of nowhere and has landed somewhere on my body, generally my arms and hands. It doesn't matter if I'm walking outside, or if I'm sitting at my computer at work, a ladybug lands on me and stays there until I escort him/her outside. No fear, though, the next day, at some point, a ladybug will fly from nowhere and land on me again.

So weird.

April Love

Reading a book for work which is actually interesting, but this woman mentions the first time she knew that she was worshiping an idol. She writes: "I became smitten with pop singer Pat Boone" (Kathleen Chapman). Quoting the Praxis: "He's ungodly!"

I will never again make fun of myself for my River Phoenix and Corey Haim wallpaper made from clips from old Teen Beat magazines. Never again. Nothing could be worse than someone smitten with Pat Boone.

The one that got away

This morning I awoke to much kitty excitement. The french doors in my bedroom lead out to a balcony of sorts, and my kitties love to watch the birds fly by. Mia, the avid huntress, generally chatters madly at the birds, but today, Cosette was the one chattering. Now Cosette, she's a black belt in Lei Tse Kitty Do, the kitty martial art that uses the Sloth attack stance of lying on your back and waiting for something to come to you so that you can bat it with the pad of your paw.

She was madly chattering, as I've never seen her do before, and then Mia joined her. Cosette backed away (part of the Sloth stance), and Mia took over, chattering and twitching until she stopped, froze dead in her tracks. I'm thinking, "Hmmm, where did the birds go?" And then, right in front of Mia's face, a little head pops up on the other side of the French door. It's a squirrel, with a huge nut in her little paws, and she smiles (distinctly smiles) at Mia as if to say, "Ha! You can't touch me" and raps the nut on the door right at Mia's head level. Mia stands there shellshocked. Then the squirrel actually turns around and shakes her tail at Mia, looking over her shoulder and chattering and then walks away.

Mia just turned to me and moaned, and I said, "It's ok, girl. You'll get her one day!"

And SBC thought I was just a master of electricity

You scored as Jean Grey. Jean Grey is likely the most powerful X-Man. She loves Cyclops very much but she has a soft spot for Wolverine. She's psychic so she can sense how others are feeling and tries to help them. She also has to control her amazing powers or the malevolent Phoenix entity could take control of her and wreak havok. Powers: Telekinetic, Telepathic

Quiz Farm

Catbirds

From Wikipedia: "Bowerbirds and catbirds make up the family Ptilonorhynchidae. The most notable characteristic of bowerbirds is the extraordinarily complex behaviour of males, which is to build a bower to attract mates. At mating time, the female will go from bower to bower, watching as the male owner conducts an often elaborate mating ritual, and inspecting the quality of the bower. Inevitably, many females will end up selecting the same male, and many underperforming males will be left without mates."

Yup, that about sums up Catbirds, a bar that has as eclectic a clientele as the bar on Tatooine, which apparently is called the Mos Eisely Cantina per the Star Wars Databank (and the fact that I didn't know that off the top of my head is an ultimate relief to me). The bar is 99% men, with about 1% of those not so subtly bragging about the fact that they own a condo (or bower) and the other percentage remain the "underperforming male" type.

Truly, I could pen a novel about the personalities found in this place: Jerry, who prefers to call himself Vader; his "son" who at 24 thinks "dating an older woman would be soooooooo coooooool;" Chris, a 26 year old with well chosen piercings and who does Xgame activities for a living and who can't understand why I don't have a myspace profile; Nerfherder, the scruffy looking bartender; Jay and Silent Bob who look like a Simpsons drawing of Jay and Silent Bob with the only exception being that the silent one is the skinny, long haired type; Ninja, the man who is from my spirited 88 year old grandma's home town in Louisiana, and who wishes he was a woodland creature so that he could huddle under my awning ass; Genevieve, a drag queen who asked if I would accompany her on her trip to the doctor when she makes the official transformation so that the doc would know exactly what she wants to look like (Genevieve is about the size of a middle linebacker and is/was an athlete but at this point I can't remember what sport)--ah, the list goes on.

Yes, Catbirds is the new devilport, only I have no desire to ever return there--EVER. While the Devilport may still hold a place in my heart, Catbirds doesn't even hold a place in my bowels. It makes Fin's look like Studio 54, which reminds me that Fin's has officially bitten the dust with a sign that reads: "Final Final Last Call Tonight."

Ok, back to my Vault and a heaping plate of angelhair pasta. G, craft night cannot start too soon for me, ma petite soeur. I think I'm retired from barhopping.

I'm evolving

In case you don't think that I'm any less cranky in 2007 than in 2006, just reread this classic post. One of the best!

my mundane but wonderful life

I tried, and I can do half a day of cleansing, but when I get home from my job, I have to indulge. It's a necessary evil. I love my job, but my job is similar to that of a politician, in that NOTHING is sacred to just me. Everything is scrutinized, examined and thrown into the limelight. Of course, the headline on the tabloids right now is: "Is Kim's love life on the rocks?" I'm actually keeping a low profile at work because revealing anything at this point could prove to be disastrous. Still, rumors are circulating, mainly because I'm not "seen" with Edgy. For those of you not in my field, you will have no idea what I'm talking about and probably think that I am oversensitive in this matter, but I assure you, I'm not. I'm right in the heart of Nosyland.

Despite that, however, I have to gush about how awesome my evening has been. I mean, what is cooler than stomping on bubblewrap barefoot, exploding streamers, blowing noisemakers, wearing scratchy plastic leis, and getting paid to do it?? Yes, that's my job, and that's what I love about it.

I also love that I'm surrounded by little bits of comedy everyday--a boss who, with a vacuous look and no clear agenda for his day whatsoever, wanders around snapping and whistling all day, back and forth from his office to the men's room; a front desk volunteer who sends all random phone calls (ones that fit no real category) my way, who calls my ext to tell me that "a man in a Purdue shirt is here to see [me]--I don't know his name" and who knocks on my closed door to tell me that my phone is on Do Not Disturb; a little anonymous fairy who loves to put things in my box like 7 staplers, comic books from the 60s entitled "Amazing Soil Adventures" or "My First Haggadah" or pieces of felt with pieces cut out of them; the fact that I, the paid staff member, have to bust ass to plan things 25 months in advance bc I work in a place where any nutjob volunteer can call a secretary and get things scheduled on the calendar AND get advertisement in every form imaginable for whatever half cracked event they want to plan in my name and when they do, no one in authority (above me) tells them to go to hell--instead, I have to work my ass off to turn the halfcrack into a full crack event which then becomes a fucking tradition; the symphony of hacking, coughing, choking, expectorating, nose honking, and whooping from all the sick people in my office; and the weekly conversations I have with the pizza lady, explaining that the word upstairs, indeed, has absolutely no Es--yes, I'm positive, no Es. Nope. Not 2 Es. Not 4. Nope. Not even 1. Just 0 Es. Yes, I'm sure. Yes, that was my degree. No, not spelling, English. yes, yes, English does have an E, yes. No, only 1.

And then I got home: opened up a bottle of 2 buck Chuck while whistling The Girl from Ipanema; put in Empire Strikes Back (undeniably the best in the series, though everyone I know will disagree); quoted all the best lines aloud; smiled over the sexual tension between Han and Leia; sighed at the poor tauntaun dying in the frozen muck, felt sorry for the wampa bc he's so cute even though he's pretty damn savage and cruel; debated with myself about whether I preferred TIE Fighters or X wings (for now TIE Fighters win solely on aesthetics); ate multigrain wheat thins and artichoke dip; popped a few m&ms; ate one bite out of a fudge covered oreo and put the uneaten part back in the cookie jar (ah, the beauty of being a bachelorette); grabbed a huge chunk of brisket and ate it with my hands, gnawing it like some sniveling, atavistic cavewoman; filled up my Hammy Pez dispenser, and then watched my cats have a staredown and reenact Thunderdome.

Ah, I love my life!

That's what I'm talkin about

What kind of jewel are you? Fire Opal People love to be around you. Not just for your stunning outer beauty, but also for the inner beauty that radiates from your awesome personality.

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

Flashback--New Year's 2006

Just had to relive a fading memory.

Caution: Cranky's Cleansing

April 23 marked the day that I made the lifestyle change from the good life to organics and such. Of course, it all started with the most miserable cleanse invented. As you might recall, it took a little while to get started, but eventually, after much grumbling and misery, I made it through the cleanse and into a much more manageable diet which I kept for 7 months. Then Kimday 2006 hit, and since then, I've been sneaking some bad foods in here and there (still nothing near what I used to eat), but tomorrow starts the cleanse again.

This time, though, I welcome it. No grumbling for me, at least not for now. My body feels toxic and disgusting. Still, no cleanse is complete without a food fest the night before, so here was the menu for Cranky's last night of decadence.

I went to 59 diner (bc no food fest should occur without diner food) where I partook of a mint chocolate chip shake (only drank 1/2--I'm such a wimp nowadays), fries with KETCHUP and RANCH DRESSING (2 things I haven't touched since April and really, they don't taste all that great anymore), a pickle (in honor of the year of the Cuke) and a club sandwich. Yeah, not so food festy, really, but I just can't stomach too much bad food anymore. I did have Star pizza (best pizza in Houston) 2 days ago, though, so that's probably still floating around my belly somewhere, I'm sure. Ick, can't do cheese anymore.

So, cleansing until the 12th (apart from a margarita I plan to have with Glinda this week). Keep your fingers crossed.

New Year's Snarfalooooo!

Yeah, so it would probably be in my best interest to wait until tomorrow instead of exhausted 3:40 AM to write this blog, but why would that be fun???

To start with, I must give props to my dress. This dress has waited 6 years to be worn, and I've never had a place to wear it until now, and damnit, it wanted to be worn for Cranky 2007!

And now it gets weirder folks! Highlights from Cranky New Year 2007!

• Dinner at Mia Bella's: calamari alla griglia, whole wheat pasta, sun dried tomato pesto with pollo and julienne vegetables, and tiramisu for dessert.
• Tiramisu gets its own post: really, nothing is more sinful than Mia Bella's tiramisu. There is no way that Eve committed original sin for a piece of fruit. It was totally this dessert.
• The Crystal Ball: here's the thing, there is not enough hair dye, brain numbing solution, eyebrow plucker, self tanner, hoochie mama dresses, flat iron straighteners, and WHISKEY in the world to make me feel at home at the Crystal Ball. Really folks, though the pickings for single women were not great, I feel wholeheartedly sorry for hetero guys because hetero women are (and we all know that I am a feminist to the nth degree, right???) the dumbest group of people I've ever seen. Through fertility drugs and a lack of parenting, we've bred the dumbest lot of females since I don't know when, and I am sad for our future. Smart females, UNITE NOW!!!!
• Really, though, I'm continuing on the last point, there is nothing worse than a bunch of white bred trust fund babies all cloned together, mouth breathers that they are, sucking the teats of the bar like it's some sow in a barnyard. Even the band, who are supposed to be a little cooler, are white boys playing Latin music. Very Sad. I've never felt so embarrassed to be Caucasian.
  
• Nothing worse than white boys singing Prince.
  
• A woman bellies up to the hotel bar in her formal gown and grabs a handful of bar napkins, which she proceeds to stuff in the top of her gown for boobage. I think I'm seeing things, until I see her do it twice. Come on!!!
  
• Some other woman is snuggling up to some man with her ass, and she sticks her hand completely down her pants. Is she scratching? Is she rearranging? Is she... I don't want to know. I just looked the other way.
  
• Another woman is dancing on the dance floor when her boob falls out of her hoochie mama dress to reveal a nicotine patch on her boob! Since when do you put it on your BOOB!!!???
  

Now the positives:

• I love New Years because it is the one time that no matter where you are, you can scream out "Happy New Year" and people will respond. We drove through a pretty shaky little area tonight and I shouted out "Happy New Year" and got responses from people! Awesome! It's like the only time we as a human race are connected to one another regardless of religion, race, or nationality.
  
• I spent from 1AM to 3AM with my next door neighbors--you know, the ones who think that the street in front of their house is their "guest parking". I hung out with them! How's that for some healing for 2007? Nice!

So, now I must sleep bc I have a partial work function in the AM. Must look bright eyed for it. Nite nite. More tomorrow.