googlismfor: punkin

my personal favorites are in bold.

punkin is two years old
punkin is doing her thang for the playground
punkin is his name
punkin is usually what you might hear dads calling their little girls
punkin is having trouble gauging distances to jump
punkin is the result of that breeding
punkin is owned by jorja piper of daiyu akitas
punkin is a cyberkitty
punkin is dressed in a velvety dark green suit with a striped leotard
punkin is currently the only grand master pointing retriever in wisconsin
punkin is a dark tan rap born january 18
punkin is my first champion and i proudly put each point on her
punkin is shadow
punkin is declared a weapon of mass destruction
punkin is a very sweet loving cat
punkin is a great kitty
punkin is a word equivalent for pumpkin
punkin is a professional clown doing corporate and private functions of all kinds
punkin is a lutino yellowface cockatiel hatched march 23
punkin is 22" tall and comes completely dressed in her own colourful clothing
punkin is our newest kitten
punkin is still an unfinished creature; his right leg and his neck are only half there
punkin is my nickname
punkin is looking left because something caught her attention
punkin is a 5 year old pomeranian
punkin is cook'n
punkin is a year older than tj and has had to get used to having a new brother around
punkin is a red tabby cat
punkin is not the way to spell pumpkin
punkin is a slang term for pumpkin
punkin is trying to take care of grandma
punkin is darling
punkin is frank's constant companion
punkin is made from a beautiful white and rust tipped schulte mohair & is 14" tall
punkin is ready for halloween
punkin is fascinated with the coyotes
punkin is now only broodmare sound
punkin is in the background
punkin is a good size cream cameo tabby female with a very gentle and "caring" character
punkin is trimmed w/ delicate green feather stitching and has a twig stem
punkin is giving granddaddy unmitigated hell in the other room
punkin is the october paw pads bear
punkin is peanuts to the left of peanuts
punkin is different and the pennies spell out punkin hollow
punkin is 11
punkin is just laid back and relaxed
punkin is a tortoise shell mostly pumpkin orange
punkin is launched into the wild blue yonder
punkin is dachshund and beagle and when she was younger would chase a tennis ball for hours
punkin is now employed at lyons drug
punkin is just another orange cat
punkin is orange
punkin is purely american
punkin is dressed in all her frills
punkin is 11 years old
punkin is a very special moluccan cockatoo that was born blind and became a pioneer in avain medicine when veterinarians operated on him to give him his sight
punkin is really cute
punkin is a 5 1/2"upholstery fabric fairy
punkin is going to be just fine
punkin is in nice condition
punkin is the orange kitten
punkin is enscribed on the top of this fine ring
punkin is 2 inches
punkin is not appreciated by his fellow flamingos known as the "snotty six"
punkin is her chew toy
punkin is relaxing with the frog
punkin is pregnant
punkin is an angel

thanks to cati fabulous via chevy for the inspiration.

drink like it's your wholesies

have come to a monumental decision. i am going to celebrate my half-birthday this year. now, i've threatened this before, but haven't seen it through. oh, no, my friends, this year, come june 28, get ready to party.

here's why this is important: count back six months from june 28th, and where does that put you on the calendar? that's right, december 28th, three days after christmas, three days before new year's. now, who can afford an extra gift this time of year? who is "in town" to attend a party. who isn't already booked to the gills with holiday party engagements, or family obligations? now, i don't want to blame my parents for this... it isn't entirely their fault. (if you count back nine months from my birthday you are at march 28th, which just happens to be my dad's birthday. so i appreciate the wish to celebrate.) however, should i someday join the ranks of the married-and-hoping-to-conceive (outlook: grim) i will need to remember that the months of march and april are off limits for starting such an..uhhhh...endeavor. because nothing sucks more than being born during the holidays.

i could bore you with details about the countless elementary school years where i was the girl who couldn't bring cupcakes in to share with the class because her birthday fell during the christmas break. or how to make up for it (mom, don't take this the wrong way, but i am still scarred), her mom agreed she could provide the class with compensatory halloween cupcakes. when it came time to bake, however, mom had forgotten to get together all the ingredients, leaving nothing to make the pumpkin's faces on the orange-topped cupcakes. in a pinch she insisted on the use of currants. "no one will notice!" she claimed. oh, mom, oh, yes they did. so not only was i the non-birthday girl, but i was the eeeew-gross-currants-on-cupcakes girl.

these are hard things to live down.

so, even as a bright, sophisticated, together adult, i still get a little finicky around my birthday time. actually, i'm known as the birthday princess. it's my only strategy, otherwise i get lost in the shuffle. it's ok, i understand. people get busy, people are broke, people don't mean to leave me out in the cold. (ok, this is a poor me moment).

so, this year, no excuses! i am formulating the party plan for my twenty-six-and-a-half birthday. i'm thinking maybe a dinner out somewhere with a couple dozen of my nearest and dearest? perhaps a bash at the party pad? it does fall on a saturday, why, how fortunate! what timing! and, yes, i will be accepting gifts.

how does one ring in a halfsies? why, drinking like it's a wholesies, of course!

sparkle, punkin, sparkle!

i have had the most uneventful, yet happening few days. it has been a gloriously sunny-breezy weekend here in the city of angels. late last night i did what every proper hollywood-ite must do at least once in their lives: watched the classic 1950 flick sunset boulevard. now, i ask myself, how could i have lived 26-plus years without having seen this? it just isn't right of me. and of course, to do it justice i am nibbling up every tasty tidbit offered up on the dvd. obtaining the rental, however, was part of the corporate indulgence partnership that took place late last night. this little city slicker had vowed (with raised fist, most likely, knowing my penchant for dramatics) to never set foot in blockbuster video again! well, not only did i hit up the old buster, but i also cruised the jetta through the mcdonald's drive through. (rubs tummy with rememberance of satisfaction mixed with mild indigestion). i do believe i proclaimed, climbing the steps to my den of iniquity: you only live once! (not likely a raised fist on this, as hands were full of merchandise and food product).

friday night brought the close of a wonderful run of shows done by my very funny friends, inflatable betty. it was the usual 'seen and be seen' of the improv scene; ok, well, at the very least it was the chance to chat with some theatresports folk i don't see as often as i used to. these gals rock. they are so funny it isn't even funny how funny they are. most of them pop up every now and then on tv. i can't tell you how eerie it is to be channel surfing in the middle of the night and gasp in horror as you see the faces of four people you just had dinner with two weeks ago doing their funny on the rita rudner show. maybe i can tell you: it's eerie. but i've digressed. i was looking sassy, with a little scarf tossed around my neck for effect, and a little skirt and sandals number. artsy-casual-chic.

there are a couple of things that never change about seeing a show with theatresports folk. one, we do this nasty thing called 'clumping.' we group up in the lobby, and toss about the phrase that is the second ritualistic element: "are you going next door?". next door is the overpriced bar/restaurant that is, well, next door, to the acme theatre. and we always go there. always. next door. so we clump in the lobby after the show. "are you going next door?" is heard intermittently, clump to clump. then, once we've established just who is going next door, and hug goodbye to those who are not, we once again clump outside the theatre. some brave souls eventually do head next door. we join them. we clump inside the entrance to the restaurant. after much fuss, we are seated. this ritual was reenacted in full friday night. we clumped, we clumped, we went next door. my ritual, which varies occasionally, is to eat what i call the artist (or, alternatively, the prison) diet. free bread and water. i'll switch it up if i have money and am not driving, by ordering a cocktail. (cosmopolitan, please, signor!) there was no switching it up this week, however.

had lovely chats with gal and guy pals i don't see often. one of my favorite people in the world was there. you may know him as the male voice on the cd-rom game that is a little popular, ahem, the sims. (as an aside, about a year ago i was over at his house, which he shares with his lovely fiancee, and i said: "you're always in my bedroom, stephen!" eyebrows went up all over the apartment. "how's that?" he asked. "i am always playing the sims, and so your voice is always in my room!" he laughed, his fiancee laughed, and he tossed me a freebie copy of the 'hot-date' expansion pack.) i found out that he is going to officiate at the upcoming nuptials of two theatresports legends. he actually went online to the universal church, and signed up to be a legal priest, or whatever it is! unreal! his lovely fiancee, who is, alternatively, my amazing longform improv coach, and i shared the corner of the long table, and a very rewarding conversation. i feel so lucky to know these people, and i am better for it. also got to fill in my surrogate big-sister on the goings on between myself and the v.d.b. the loveliest look of happiness appeared on her pixie face when i told her. seems everyone is rooting for us.

but, what of the v.d.b.? i sent him the little handmade gift item last week. it is possible that he has not received it yet. oh, sigh! my little nerves can't take it! at some point one of us is going to have to fess up to the other how we feel. and i'm damned it it's going to be me--this sassy little punkin needs to be wooed. so, hang tight, gang, we'll wait and see. it is lovely and enjoyable as it is right now. did i mention southwest airlines has cheap round trip tickets to san francisco? hmmm...

update on cool and uncool:
it is very uncool that my ex, the evil one lives on the same street--block-- that i do. as in, i pass his building everytime i leave mine, on foot or in vehicle. which is great for spying; i can see his car in the garage... or not. what is cool is that he is such a loser that he rarely leaves the house. hence, i have not yet run in to him. i dreamed last night i told him off. in reality, what i would like to do is a combination of naughty gestures, punctuated with perhaps a foul-language insult. let's hope it doesn't come to that. let's hope he's just content shopping victoria's secret online, trying to make the bridesmaid into more of a woman like me.

i received an e-mail apology and invite to co-workers wedding.

keep telling myself: sparkle, punkin, sparkle!

heartbeat

when i was 17, and had just graduated high school, my best friend laurie and i moved to new york city. i think we shocked the hell out of everyone. one night we were indluging in all-you-can eat spaghetti night at scotty's on the strand in one of those southern california beach neighborhoods, the next thing we're confessing neither of us feels ready to follow through on our college plans, and two and a half weeks later we were checking in to the big apple hostel on 45th in times square. i don't even think we were hip enough to pretend like we were badass for doing it. i probably pinched myself everyday for the next few months when i looked up, up, up at the walls of skyscrapers. the city has a pulse; one minute standing still in that endless stream of motion on any city block and you'll know what i mean.

manhattan for tourists is a world apart of manhattan for natives. you tap in to a rhythm. you glide effortlessly down subway steps. you skillfully navigate a crowd. you cross no matter what the crosswalk sign is blinking. you know which deli has the best salad bar, and the shortest line for breakfast. you know which diners deliver all night, should you crave pancakes but not want to take off your jammies. you can find the quiet spots in the city, like the tiny park on riverside drive. this was my manhattan.
this was, however, almost ten years ago. before times square was gentrified and taken over by "total request live" and the virgin megastore. this was before sex and the city, and most certainly before anyone imagined such a thing as 9/11. ten years ago i rode the elevator up to the top of the world trade center and looked through the haze at a city i was just scared enough of to think i could possibly conquer it. how i would do that, well, it didn't matter that i didn't know.

we lived there for just about seven months. two of us, and three cats in a shoebox studio apartment, in an area we kindly called the lower east side of upper midtown. every morning we waved excitedly to the folks coming in to town on the roosevelt island tram--they could see right in to our windows. after a couple of weeks i stopped noticing the rush hour traffic and the ceaseless honking on the queensboro bridge. it just simply became home. looking back, i almost want to kick myself, not for what i did, but for all i didn't do. i didn't go to the museums, i didn't go to this that and the other place. but just as i sit in my l.a. home on any given night and moan: "there isn't anything to do here!" or "i'm too tired and broke to go out!", it was just the same way there. laughable now, but i was content with a six pack of zima (i was 17, remember) and an episode of sisters on the tv.

it doesn't matter why we came home. when it comes down to it, it was the fact that we went at all. there isn't a day that doesn't go by that i don't wish i could be there. just close my eyes and feel that rush through my body, the hum of the electricity that sets that city apart from any other big city i've ever lived in or visited. i know i'm not brave enough to do something like that again. i've gotten a little set in my ways over the years. and for all my experiences, it's not so much that i know better, but it's that i'm scared to know anything but. there are things i did then that i can't imagine doing now. and some days i get up and go out in the world and do some really stupid things that i never would have done then.

and who am i now? a little worse or better for wear. a little wiser, a little more badass, in my moderately safe way. i get that hum in small doses; it's like having a brand new crush. i subscribe to martha stewart living magazine. i refuse to eat top ramen because it reminds me of being poor and hungry. i take the metro red line subway and chuckle knowingly: this isn't a real subway, citizens of l.a.! i get a little nostalgic when i go see a movie shot in ny. and i drive my overpriced car, and drink my overpriced coffee, and i go to work, and i buy cheap designer shoes at it's a wrap. in the journey of my life, i know i am exactly where i'm supposed to be. that girl in me still wants to fly, but the woman i am knows to stay put and cultivate my roots. but that decison, that move to the city that never sleeps--that made me who i am. and i'm proud. i'm damn proud. it took the kind of guts that i only realized it took in hindsight. it was a choice that changed my entire life.

for that i am truly grateful.

insight via list:

1. what was your most memorable moment from the last week?
there was that one beautiful, heart-pounding moment on saturday evening when i returned home from work, opened the mailbox, and realized the large postal envelope that took up all the space in the tiny little alcove of a box was meant for me. i opened the envelope as i walked up the stairs to my apartment. two slim-cased cds and a small card were inside. the card was the shortest, and, well, sweetest, i've ever received. i may have forgotten to breathe for a moment there. i felt like the most special girl in all of l.a.

2. what one person touched your life this week?
several, actually... but i tend to get 'touched'. first, the v.d.b. who sent the package. i actually told him "i'm really touched". however, i also spent some really quality time with gal-pal fuzzeranne, who said some very dear things to me, as i recall, while we were on foot to cross the u.s.-mexican border. not a poetic locale, but we're improvisers, so we make do.

3. how have you helped someone this week?
if last friday night counts... fabulous housemate l.q.t. and i shared some wine and smokes, and then, in the wee small hours of the morning, stereo blasting, i helped her make signs for her to carry with her to hollywood anti-war protest. sharpies in hand we furiously scribbled and colored until our arms were sticky with ink, and we couldn't giggle anymore.

4. what one thing do you need to get done by this time next week?
this is probably the longest i've ever waited to get my taxes done.

5. what one thing will you do over the next seven days to make your world a better place?
approach my life and everyone in it with positivity and love. love, baby, love. because, (and i mean this in the nicest way possible) i'm full of it.

and for those of you who would like to see me get french kissed by a monkey...

i guess that is why i do improv theatre instead of cleaning cages at the l.a. zoo.

got a sassy little shimmy in my walk today, folks. i have the 'new-hair' strut happening. that's right. got a temporary color rinse to perk up the red, got some split ends trimmed, a little shape, a little curl-enhancing goo. and got to wax philosophical and chitter-chatter with beloved hairstylist. i enjoy being a girl!

so i returned the volley serve and sent a little handmade-with-love-by-yours-truly gifty type thing to the v.d.b. (very deserving boy) yesterday. just a teensy bit antsy on the issue. hoping that it doesn't go over like a lead balloon. with all the trauma and drama i've put myself through in past relationships, i just feel like i deserve something nice, to be treated well... and, v.d.b. already treats me better than 'the evil one' ever did. so, relatively speaking, it's all good.

besides, i have new hair. get the hell outta my way, world.

when time is of the essence, and money makes the world go 'round...

10 things i'd rather be doing today

1. cashing my monthly check from the state lottery
2. hand-holding/making out in san francisco
3. getting a facial and massage
4. accepting a lavish gift, and modestly saying: "oh, you shouldn't have!"
5. having dinner with my nana at giraffe's in crescent beach, british columbia
6. high tea with intellectually stimulating gal-pal at the rose cottage, pasadena
7. taking a gourmet cooking class
8. yoga retreat sounds nice
9. performing in a really fantastic longform improv show to a full house of appreciative and adoring fans
10. roaming streets of manhattan, buying a donut and a coffee from a street vendor,shopping in stores with no regard to bank balance, walk through central park, salad bar lunch from small neighborhood deli/grocer, indie matinee flick at the angelika, dinner at a greasy spoon, a wave to the folks on the roosevelt tram, concert at irving plaza, dessert at serendipity.

10 things i actually have to do today

1. laundry
2. clean my living space.
3. post office
4. do my taxes
5. call artistic director of theatresports
6. post press releases/various info online for theatresports
7. create meals based on meager cupboard offerings
8. yoga sounds nice. find videotape, clear space in front of tv, roll out mat.
9. attempt to locate funds to pay off previously mentioned car loan folks
10. contest a parking ticket i got last night.

"when you're a jet": the battleground of coolness that lies within this sassy little punkin...

today i feel decidedly not cool. i don't like feeling this way. don't get me wrong; genreally i am cool, hip, fresh, and happening. i'd even say i was funky. we all know i'm sassy. however, i'm also a total and complete dork.

hence, i offer myself as the venue where opposing forces meet to duke it out.

for this evening's top-billed match we have the elf of self-interest versus the angel of reason and selflessness:
the self-interest part is that nasty elf that sits on your shoulder and whines: "me, me, what about me?" he is also the voice that spurs you on to say whiny, selfish and unattractive things like: "but that's not fair!" then you have that angelic spirit that coaxes you gently to see the world with neutral, compassionate eyes. walk a mile in their shoes. have someone else's good in mind. do unto others. my elf has always kicked that angel's ass. hey, i'm an only child. when i was kid my dad would say "the world doesn't revolve around you." i say, like hell it doesn't.

here is what has been not cool about my day:
1. had to call the managing director of the improv group i work with and get some things out in the air. balanced a fine line between the good of the company/group as a whole and my self-interest. and it isn't nearly resolved. and i'm no closer to playing with the big kids.

2. am feeling increasingly slighted by the fact that a co-worker invited everyone but me (including the new girl) to her wedding. i think she assumed that i would go as ashley's guest. she even asked us if that was our plan, so it isn't like she just forgot to mail me the invite. if i were truly cool it either wouldn't bother me, or i'd just say something to her about it. but, no... i'm opting for uncool. because, dammit, it's making me feel uncool.

3. there is a quiznos restuarant down the street from my work. i've worked down the street from it for almost two years. i've eaten my fair share of their sandwiches. went there for my dinner tonight...again. and i have the added bonus dork points of going there in my work apron, covered in glaze. two years and they never kick down a discount. not only am i uncool, but they are so uncool.

4. my car loan company is now stalking my mother. that, my friends, is the uncoolest thing of all.

if i could ask michael jackson one question, it would be: who is this 'jamon' you keep referring to?

have returned safe and sound from mexico adventure. did the old in-and-out (oooh, your filthy minds took to the gutter on that one), and were back on california soil within the hour. alas, this year's trip did not feature the alluring offers by fellows on the street for complimentary massages and bull rides. on the other hand, had we obliged, we could have received free tequila shots with our theoretical beer purchase. tough sales tactics are in operation in tijuana: "excuse me. hey lady, come here now. don't you want to buy my junk?" that would be an emphatic no.

spent lovely remainder of day in enchanting coronado, just off the coast of san diego. ambled along patios of famous hotel del coronado, eating over-priced ice cream. i can't tell you how phenomenal it felt to get away for just the day. i can try... but it sort of defies words. so very much needed. ambled along further through charming streets of the town. it was like a ghost town, really. i remember in junior high we had classes arranged on an 8 day system, day one, day two, etc. every now and then there'd be a 'day zero', some sort of day where you only went to homeroom and then something was up, like the infamous and often deadly 'track and field day'. (shudders with horror at memories). today was like a 'day zero'--it was just a nice day that broke us out of the norm.

lovely and delightful and always funny gal-pal fuzzeranne was the perfect companion. i shared with her the professor's lusty cd, and we were soon chanting "men are only sex toys, only women's sex toys" all the day long. hit up a little disco groove. rocked out to some michael jackson. realized while in the studio the producer must have just thrown up his hands and said, "ok, michael, just go ahead and riff. say whatever you feel like at the end of these songs." hence, the classic line from "got to be starting something", you are a vegetable and they hate you.

that's so hot, it's positively thermal.

have consulted just about everyone but the source on the significance of the gifts i received over the weekend from a lovely person who lives north of me. could a certain guy have more than friendly intentions towards this sassy little punkin? is this the break from my attraction to uninterested, unevolved and emotionally retarded men that i have been praying for? i am hell-bent on simply enjoying the moment, but can't help but wonder, do i "got to be starting something"? because, well, i kinda want to... dipping the toe in gingerly, testing the waters.

we veered off the 5, and on to the 101 freeway. we were instantly mesmerized by the lights of the downtown cityscape. somehow, sadly, though, the zen-like hum of vacation day began to fade. i could feel my self tense up. the stress that had seemed so distant as we tromped the streets and peeked in the shops of coronado was now blaring in our faces like the lights of the oncoming traffic. and it's back home for me. back to bills and emails, alarm clocks and an insurmountable pile of laundry.

but it was a good day. a very good day.

when the phone rings at 8:00 a.m., it's probably your mother

yawn. sigh. yawn. stretch. little neck crack. up a little earlier than intended. yawn.

today is big little walk across border trip to mexico with fuzzeranne. please, don't get excited. i am more happy about getting to listen to cds and shoot the breeze with beloved gal-pal. may have evening experience in san diego area. who knows. it's a day off work.

the mail this weekend held the loveliest of surprises. i am somewhat prone to over-interpretation. however, there are some boys in the world who do nice things for girls. and that in itself is proof that one gesture can blow a certain ex out of the water. so maybe there is a monkey in s.f. scratching their head, while the monkey in l.a. happily eats a banana. who knows. but i'm darn well going to enjoy it.

while i remain my own number one fan, i think i might have to give up stalking myself. while i was all comfy in my bed last night, i had to get up and park the car on the street outside my window to try to look in and steal a glance at myself. the romance is gone. i'm just a tease, toying with my emotions. i don't deserve me. i will always have a place in my heart, though. it could have been a beautiful thing.

ah, yes...roman polanski was unable to accpet his award last night. he was unable to attend...the country. thank god he won. that crowd needed some shaking up. the oscars aren't what they were to me as a teenager, all starry-eyed. maybe living in la-la land has made me jaded.

goodmorning to my friend, judy. now, get back to work!

coffee... coffee... must have coffee...

"you are here"--375 miles away

the sassy little punkin officially has a big ol' crush on a very deserving fellow.

went through the panty drawer... decided i need to do laundry

it's not easy stalking yourself. it's hard to be such a devoted fan. people just don't understand the love i feel. and i know it's the real thing. my every waking hour is consumed with anxiety: when will i see me again? if i'm not at home, and not at work, just where could i be? kids, don't try this at home!

what today lacked in comedy it made up for it in "go, me!" moments. no need to elaborate. just, go, me!

got off to a bit of a false start; you know, that moment when the alarm goes off... you roll over, slam the off button, and sigh with contentment: i don't have to go anywhere or do anything today. aaahhhh, yes...

...until you realize, oh, crap. liar, liar, pants on fire. i'm supposed to be at work, fresh-faced and ready to look attentive at the weekly staff meeting, in, oh, 30 minutes.

my hair style of choice: two hurriedly tied braids, pippi longstocking style. lost count of how many people complimented me on the 'do. hey folks, i call it: "the didn't have time to shower look." tragic to some... well, you know how it goes.

have learned a valuable lesson today, courtesy of my once and future professor of medieval lit (sigh): men are only sex toys. now, how, you ask, was this gem of wisdom shared with me? simple. in my stereo now resides the 1998 album his 'comedy-erotica' (!?) band released, won by yours truly in an uncontested ebay auction. bestill my beating heart. no, really. am pointing out his photo on the jewel case with the presumptive introduction: "this is my future husband." oh, sigh...

sincerely the funniest moment of my day was a conversation that went as follows, heard by the sassy little punkin in our office kitchen...

person #1: oh, i've always wanted to be jewish!
person #2: you CAN be!

because, gang, it's that easy! i hope we all find our true happiness.

in other news... splurged and got my nails done. am obesessively clickety-clacking them with girlish squeals of delight. i look damn cool smoking with them, too.

oh, alanis: and everytime i scratch my nails down someone else's back i hope you feel it. well can you feel it?

you know who you are. and i've scratched some backs. can you feel it?

post-script indulgent part two

have declared myself my own number one fan.

am considering stalking myself.

know where i live. will go through panty drawer.

this love cannot go unrequited.

post-script indulgent

am retiring from den of slack.

let the sun and air in my room, as i've realized it must smell like the smoker's lounge at a cigarette factory.

wishing that impending explications of passages from marguerite duras, milan kundera and julio cortazar were as easy as chatty, witty, occasionally profound blog posting.

translation: i so do not want to take my final exam.

totallyfuckinghilarious

friends rule. this is really an important thing to overstate. i have some really high quality friends. they would all so totally hold my hair back while i puke. in fact, some of them have. they do really silly things that are actually quite significant, like send me dopey e-cards, and call just to say hi. they tell me i have great hair. they hug me when i'm happy, they hug me when i'm sad. they tell me i'm funny. they miss me when we don't hang out. they buy me taco bell when i don't have cash on me. they don't mind if i burp. they let me bum smokes. they support me in the never ending search for mr. right. they allow me to indulge in a mr.right-now.

have accomplished what i consider to be a major feat in the universe of blog: was linked in return on fish's site, and received unsolicited kudos from texas t-bone.

see me do a little victory dance. feeling groovy.

are you my ex?

had sudden realization tinged with mixture of fear and self-satisfaction: has josh read my blog?

now, this is far-fetched, and involves some effort on his part, but it is possible. this would mean that he knows how i truly feel about him, and his, ahem, the bridesmaid. maybe that's why he hasn't called. (not that it matters, or that i think about it). maybe he just doesn't have to. i'd be almost relieved he knew the truth, even in the snarky/glib tone i put it in for entertainment's sake. i don't have any fear of retaliation. quite frankly, he isn't that smart or sophisticated. (if he has the page bookmarked he'll know i think this now, too, hmmmm). besides, what could he say about yours truly? (wicked grin). a website about how he couldn't say 'no' to me for a year and a half? not a bad idea. i am that sexy.

i must go and take some final exams. must go now. must go now.

look at me go. here i go. how very godot of me.

put the proverbial fork in me...

i'm done. i remembered that we are allowed a 3x5 index card of notes for nasty linguistics final. i have crammed the card with teeny tiny crib notes, and have told myself "if you don't know it now, you won't know it any better tomorrow morning."

i faced a killer junk food crisis this afternoon. things i never thought would grace my shopping buggy found themselves a new home in my kitchen. just really gross junk food.

great... now we're at war. does this mean finals are cancelled? grrr...

solution! eureka! girl genius!

am going to take linguistics text with me into soothing mr. bubble bubble bath. thus combining meditative leisure, facial regimen and studying.

multitaskers of the world unite!

procrastinators, show up at the last minute!

anything but girl

have done dishes. made coffee. served coffee in brand new 'foxy' mug i made on sunday. opted for toast. carefully spread honey and peanut butter on toast. ate toast. napped. muted incoming cellphone call from car loan agent. attempted conversation with cat, numerous times. blog-surfed. considered laundry and/or room cleaning.

anything but study for killer linguistics final.

today's mantra: "it's only ______ o'clock! i can get started later than now and still study for hours."

my bridesmaid situation is nothing like yours. don't even go there. no way sister.

just for the record, the stupid thing i did on friday invloving work was completely accidental, a case of sheer forgetfulness. layed low when i got in to work today. feeling really bad about it, but, aware that it's too late to do anything about it.

had a major dish session on the phone with my hair stylist, surrogate big-sis and gal-pal, the infamous "coral", this afternoon. she rocks my free world, that woman. we caught each other up on the scoop, and calmed each other down in regards to self-doubt about recent doings, esp. in the realm of dudes. she definitely got me seeing the light on a topic or two, however, i maintain, i am completely cool with things being as they are--but, i ask you, what girl does not wish that some boy out there was just madly in love with her. i know i do. dammit.

ash mentioned that she might head up to portland to blow glass and stay at erika's sooner or later. sigh. i joined her on that trip last june. monday i ride to mexico with fuzzeranne, and thursday i see the above mentioned coral for a hair session. that's about the extent of my spring break 2003 madness. am toying with the idea of planning a trip up to s.f. in the late spring. just need to see if a favor can be returned and i can crash with someone. i'm going to wait a while, though, and see if this is, um, ahem, a good idea. i do need a break. i feel like i've been just going non-stop. the other day someone asked me how my holiday was. i realized she meant christmas, and i swear that feels like a lifetime ago.

"hot stuff" joined the collection, as a companion cup to "foxy". yeah, baby.

i have new blogger's anxiety. "who reads me?" "please read me!" "i'm cute, i'm funny, i'm interesting!"

it's like a perpetual blind date.

oh, it's not that bad

i'm just saying...sometimes... that's how it is. not always.

you know what i mean?

see a little me in a liz phair song

"I woke up alarmed
I didn't know where I was at first
Just that I woke up in your arms
And almost immediately I felt sorry
'Cause I didn't think this would happen again
No matter what I could do or say
Just that I didn't think this would happen again
With or without my best intentions, and
What ever happened to a boyfriend
The kind of guy who tries to win you over, and
What ever happened to a boyfriend
The kind of guy who makes love cause he's in it, and
I want a boyfriend
I want a boyfriend
I want all that stupid old shit
Like letters and sodas
Letters and sodas
You got up out of bed
You said you had a lot of work to do
But I heard the rest in your head
And almost immediately I felt sorry
'Cause I didn't think this would happen again
No matter what I could do or say
Just that I didn't think this would happen again
With or without my best intentions, and
I want a boyfriend
I want a boyfriend
I want all that stupid old shit
Like letters and sodas
Letters and sodas
I can feel it in my bones
I'm gonna spend another year alone
It's fuck and run
Fuck and run...
You almost felt bad
You said that I should call you up but
I knew much better than that
And almost immediately I felt sorry
'Cause I didn't think this would happen again
No matter what I could do or say
Just that I didn't think this would happen again
With or without my best intentions
And I can feel it in my bones
I'm gonna spend my whole life alone
It's fuck and run
Fuck and run..."

liz phair

slinky and catlike... well, then, meow, baby!

friends are nice. friends are good. they give me the warm fuzzies sometimes. nice!

have accomplished zero in the studying department. ah, hell. there's always the morning.

evening was better spent a) trying to set up a comments service on the blog and b) instant messaging girly stuff with fuzzeranne and aggie. and in the end, all that counts more than reading over some notes for a class i loathe. right?

the sun has gone to bed and so must i. goodbye.

i like your eyes. you're pretty with or without makeup. i wish i could live with you.

thanks, brianna. too bad you're an eleven year old girl. why can't hot, emotionally available men in between the ages of 27-35 say that to me? why, world, why???

have decided i want to tell josh : "fuck off. i don't want to talk to you or see you right now."

have realized i can't tell josh: "fuck off. i don't want to talk to you or see you right now" unless he actually calls me.

have decided i will not call him. i repeat, will not.

it's been a long year, folks. a lot can happen. hell, it's been a long week.

this isn't helping me get my studying done for philosophy of emotions. i seriously have a self-discipline deficiency. ("dairy queen? okay, sure! i'll have some!") i am considering breaking the new non-smoking me rule and ask l.q.t. for a smoke break. see, no self-discipline.

i was beginning to think that all the hip, witty, smart blogging gals-about-town were east coasters, until cati fabulous set me straight. thanks, cati! you are a rock star.

those are some mean winds blowing outside tonight.

le mot du jour, c'est foxy

this sassy little punkin is tired. t-i-r-e-d. it was a late night last night. was up way past my bedtime.

but it was well worth it.

am feeling rather done with josh. the anger that i swore i could never feel towards him is brimming at my surface. the bridesmaid is flying home to long island tonight. a week ago this signified that i was getting my boyfriend back. now it just means josh and i have to meet up to... i don't know. have one last talk. let him listen to me berate him to his face for thirty seven minutes. i've been cautioned by all to be sure to keep my pants on. mon dieu. i don't want to go there again.

to quote carrie bradshaw (sarah jessica parker), from sex and the city season 3, episode 41, running with scissors : "We're so over, we need a new word for over."

the museum of neon art was a lovely experience. met many of kori's family members, saw her beautiful work on display, as well as the beautiful work of many other talented artists. it is nice to live in a city that hosts something like the mona; having grown up in toronto i can attest to the value of having cultural resources. people are always claiming that l.a. is a wasteland, with no art, music or theatre scene, and that just isn't the case. you just have to be willing to find it, and open to experiencing it.

work today was slow moving. i completely missed out on some street action; these folks i think got a hold of a thief of some sort by trapping him between the fenders/bumpers of two cars. it was quite a public melee. i was in my sleepy bubble, working steadily on forwarding josh and my 100 plus email history to another email account so it won't be staring me in the face everytime i log on. leeann came in and pointed out the ruckus. still not sure what was happening. the guy they'd trapped had wandered into my work only minutes earlier, and had wandered out just as quickly. i could've sworn he'd mumbled something about running at the gym next door. i was of no help in this scenario. was grateful for leeann's presence, though. i'll miss her when she goes back to mammoth. she's been a nice energy to have around. it's nice to know a fellow 'liberated woman'...

i really am dreading the talk with josh tomorrow. i'm afraid i won't have the courage to be upfront, and that i will fall into a place of sadness. this punkin needs to stay sassy. (some incredibly sage advice i was once given: stay sassy, it keeps 'em guessing!) that's sassy, not sad. and, knowing me, talking out emotional issues will cause me to vomit. this is not a desired state of being. years ago my friend bunny and i attested that the sign of a true friend is that they will hold your hair back while you puke. i don't see josh doing this. i don't see a point in us being friends. i would much rather rake him over the coals under the guise of a fictional name in a bestselling novel that i will pen in my spare time. the pen is mightier than the sword.

got the warm fuzzies driving home with ashley from dinner tonight. passed a large group of folks outside a restaurant on riverside drive holding a candlelight anti-war vigil. ash tooted the horn, and we flashed the peace sign. hey, man. i've got a healthy dose of hippie peace activist in me. sure, i sucked at canvassing for money with greenpeace. then again, you have to wonder where our priorities were; we referred to payday as "bar night", and i was barely 18.

painted one damn sexy bowl at work today, and a cappuccino mug with foxy written on the inside. felt good.

there's no way on god's green earth i am cracking open the philosophy of emotions text tonight. i am going to spend the next few waking moments fondling my remote and greedily taking up the whole bed while i sleep.

tomorrow is st. patrick's day. i hate st. patrick's day. hazy memories of juniper drunkenly calling me a whore at the top of his lungs in the midst of a gay irish pub on the west side. a few weeks ago we'd planned on maybe hitting up said gay irish pub for a humorous reunion with the locale that brought about a hiatus in our friendship. plans changed. am i supposed to wear green tomorrow? this doesn't appeal to me. i plan on hiding out til noon, so no one had better bust out with a 'top o' the mornin' to ya' to me. i'll have none of that.

this week is going to be all about survivor mode.

and i want to vote josh off this island.

complimentary car wash courtesy of mother nature

took the car out for a sail today. ash and i did not make the flea market. more specifically, the flea market didn't make it to the corner of melrose and fairfax, thanks to the rain. so far i have only seen reference to channel 4's storm team, but no stormwatch yet. i'll be leaving the house soon, so hopefully this encounter will be avoided. hit up paty's for breakfast, took a jaunt to the always inspiring bodhi tree, and managed to stay fairly dry.

and now, nap time is over.

being a los angeleno has me tempered to wear things like opened toed shoes, bare legs and light jackets all year 'round. i am at a loss for what to wear to erika's museum reception. i'm also on a secret prowl for scrumptious, emotionally available, passionate, grown up men. for fear of asphyxiation i will not hold my breath.

will drag out some closed toed shoes, a sassy skirt and some cleavage-y top.

eat your heart out, josh.

does the bridesmaid conceal a delicious bosom beneath that oh-so-alluring 'navy' athletic shirt? will you surely tug her conveniently unstyled hair out of it's charming ponytail while you attempt to locate her neck with your lips beneath those attractive rolls of flesh? can you pry the twinkie out of her grubby little hand? are you going to take her on a romantic stroll through the fluorescent-lit aisles of target, so that you can shop for sappy going-back-home-to-long-island-thanks-for-the-mercy-sex cards for each other?

opted not to buy the girls' guide to surviving a breakup. it's all very common-sensical. it's like having my friend judy in print in my hands. i know all these things. josh and i have been, as ashley so succinctly and so often puts it, breaking up for almost a year now. breaking up and getting over josh is something i am quite talented at by now. hope it sticks this time.

gotta jet. la la la!

here comes the rain again

woke up to the pitter-pattering of rain. i do not want to hear one single newscaster refer to this as stormwatch 2003. i may hurt my tv. i miss cable. rain might spell the thwarting of the plan ashley and i came up with for today, oh, maybe three weeks ago. my precious saturday off. we were supposed to go down to the melrose/fairfax flea market. this may not happen. we just might have to chainsmoke and eat breakfast at aroma. it's going to involve coffee, whatever it is.

things i need to say to josh

*you need therapy. now.
*you treat me like shit.
*you do not appreciate me.
*you will never be happy with anyone until you are happy with yourself.
*i do not want you to mention your fondness for my breasts again. this is getting old.
*i am more than my breasts.
*you are denying yourself potential happiness by not being with me.
*you don't deserve me.
*you can't have such overwhelming feelings of jealousy and posession if you don't have emotional feelings for me.
*you are very good at ruining people's lives.
*the bridesmaid is ugly, boring, and has no sex appeal. what is the attraction?
*nevermind, i don't want to hear about it.
*you are a weak, weak man. this isn't something to brag about.
*you watch too much tv.
*you have a co-dependent relationship with your roommate.
*you need to admit you have feelings for me.
*you can be capable of loving someone.
*you could have been capable of loving me.
*you snore.
*my friends all want to kick your ass.
*the bridesmaid will cause you a heap of agony beyond the scope of your understanding. i know this for a fact.
*did i mention she was ugly, boring and has no sex-appeal?
*your bold display of lack of self-worth is extremely unattractive.
*you are an unadventurous eater.
*you are making a colossal mistake.
*you will want me back and it will be too late by the time you realize how great i am.
*you should realize how great i am right now, want me back with fierce desperation.
*i won't take you back now. ha ha.
*i will miss you more than i should.
*you should consider being single for a while and working on your self.
*i went through all your stuff.

i do not want to eat freedom fries with josh

sassy little punkin is a single girl. this isn't necessarily a bad thing. i need to clear away the cobwebs and welcome back the me i used to be. enough is enough. i don't want to cry over a plate of potatoes fried in the style of a country we are apparently upset with because they are smart enough to not back us up in initiating an unnecessary war. i don't want to vomit in public.

i finally have a day off work.

last year my dear, dear, dear friend ashley introduced me to her dear friend kori. she is a fantastic person, and was kind enough to let ash and i stay with her in portland, oregon last june. (my god, has it been nearly a year?!) kori is a glass blower, and this weekend marks the installation of two of her pieces in the museum of neon art right here in los angeles. tomorrow night we go to the opening reception, and i am so thrilled for her. should be a nice evening.

i am up way past my bedtime.

this week is going to be rather difficult.

oy.

you can't crank call a deaf guy
and other valuable lessons of the day...

nothing is nicer than being at work and your friend fuzzeranne shows up with a bunch of purple tulips.

just 'cos.

time to go out for dinner!

thanks where thanks are due
i cannot go another minute without thanking someone i know and someone i don't for their inspiration in the world of blog.
le petit hiboux.
laurie johnson.

thank you!

safety first!
josh apparently is a safety guy. he chose the bland, boring, beige bridesmaid over me.

once again my little heart has been broken. it hurts. trying to figure out if he and i can even really be friends.

we're going to meet up next week to talk it out.

how appropriate: next week is finals week. how very final of us.

equal opportunity donuts
the feminist coalition on my campus was having a fundraising bake sale today. it has been revealed of late that women on the campus are paid 74 cents to the $1 that men earn. which, of course, it a sad state of affairs.

the group was selling krispy kreme donuts, priced as follows:
75 cents for women
$1 for men

how could i not buy one? what a genius concept. applause!

html, baby!
ok, i am trying to teach myself some html code so that I can jazz this sucker up. wish me luck. i did one teeny-tiny thing for trial, and changed the color slightly on this side panel to your left.

exits are here and here. in case of crash landing in water your seat becomes a floatation device.

please, please, let my shower be working today.

your daily horoscope for march 13, 2003
Dear Punkin,
Intimate relationships gather steam as increased involvement in each other's lives brings you closer together. Romantic relationships grow because of enhanced communication, shared dreams, goals, and ideals - not to mention a surge in physical passion! You should be feeling strong and confident today, Punkin, especially as your material success continues to advance. Travel, new automobiles, and the purchase of a few luxury items might be on your agenda.

Baby, it's Cold Inside...
Speaking of hot water... well I was metaphorically yesterday. Today I am quite literal. We have none. (This created one very memorable night about a month ago at the other end of my block, but I won't be so lucky today). I have to go to work, and I can't take a shower. My horoscope (delivered not once but twice into my email box last night) for today claims I must pay special attention to my personal appearance. Kind of hard to do when you can' t start out on a clean slate. The stars are working against me! This is cosmic handicapping! At least I am not skanky dirty, as perhaps I've been in recent days, wink wink.

By the way, did someone out there somewhere post me on Ex-Girlfriends-dot-com? Because lately I'm the girl of choice with the exes. (Or, take Angel Bunny's earthly charms option). But everyone knows there is only one I want.

I know there are candygrams, and singing telegrams, but how about Psychotherapy-agrams. Free shrink service delivered to your door complete with copy of credentials and advice on a relative topic. "When you care enough to send the very best", right? I spy a brilliant commercial partnership here.

Next project for the blog: My "Because I..." chalkboard. Inspired by others' lists of self-worth.

Because Music can Make the World Go 'Round...
A certain Academic with a not-so-secret recent history.

Clouds going by
or I do some really stupid things Part 2
Finished my paper at 6 a.m. Went back to sleep and had these weird dreams about clouds. Clouds, naturally being a motif in the short story I did the paper on. Barely 9 in the morning and not even up and dressed and I got myself into more hot water. I'm late for school...again.

I do some really stupid things sometimes. Not sure why.

Angel Bunny says my earthly charms are radiating and attracting all sorts of guys to me.

Everyone sends hugs and tells me I'm great, I'm fine, and they love me.

I'm having a little bit of struggle with who I am these days.

Almost done with the paper. Thinking I will have to get up early and crank out the last few paragraphs with the dawn's early light.

"the eagerness for so much that was incomprehensible but illumined by a total love" Julio Cortazar, Blow Up

Same Shiitake, Different Day
Well, I now have to face the looming lit paper. Sigh. No choice but to dive in and do it. Today was a FUNNY day at work, for the most part.
Josh's roommate Ben came by the store today on his way to the bank. I can't help but think he has a little soft spot in his heart for me, at the very least because I'm a fellow improviser. We shared a brief but satisfying moment in regards to Josh. It's funny how a look really says a million things. They all took off to Best Buy to spend Ben's Lingo earnings on a Playstation, good golly. Oh, yes, all three of them, saw the car drive by. Can't figure out why they drove up the street that way. Maybe Josh was trying to see me,since he must have known I was there. (Unless Ben didn't want to say anything in front of the bridesmaid.) Who the heck really knows. It's anyone's guess as to the climate at that household. But, judging from the look Ben gave me...Hmm, well, who can say.
My cousin Grace turned 14 yesterday. I met that gorgoeous amazing young girl 14 years ago! Where does the time go?
I should really get cracking on that essay. The sooner I tackle it the sooner it's out of my way. I'm so "last minute!" Wish me luck!

Ok I have to take over ashley's classes for Kids Club. Not teaching them, I mean writing them, coming up with the ideas, and creating the painted sample. Right now I'm surfing the web to find out How To Draw A Dinosaur. I'm also responsible for airplanes, sea monsters and pyramids. Yuck. I just got all this crappola piled on my plate at work today. Waaaah. I just want to go home and write my paper in the shadowy comfort of my little room. At least my mind is off things related to boys and their guests who need to be leashed. Oh wait, since they are right down the street they are not off my mind...EVER. It is a gorgeous day here in Los Angeles. I would love to be sprawled on a blanket on some hill in Griffith Park, reading a book, watching some kids play in the distance. Or sitting in some cafe down in Hollywood with my journal and a big ol latte. Didn't I used to do those things? juniper called me late last night, drunk from a bar in Nawlins. Naturally. Sounds like a fun town. Calgon, take me away...

Mmmm, Souplantation is yummy! Ashley had never been there; I know, hard to believe. We stopped in at Aron's Records on Highland (my favorite used cd shop, sorry, Pennylane, it whoops your butt) because I am on a mission to find a rare cd from 1998 called "Songs From a Moist Place" by this band called Lust Pollution. The reason that matters is because one of the members of this now-defunct band is a professor of mine at CSULA. A certain adorable professor that I am wildly attracted to. (I've just realized that neither Josh nor The Professor should ever read this blog.) It's really only gratifying to me at this point, and since I'm in the blog Honeymoon phase I'm quite in to posting every single thought. Anyhow, Aron's didn't have the cd even in their computer system. I am, actually, the high bidder on a copy of the cd on Ebay, but you know how that works, might lose out when it comes down to the wire. There's a few days left, so who knows. I guess the band is considered to be 'comedy-erotica', which pretty much sums up the theme of my life. Hardy-har-har. Anyhow, I'll have it in my hands sooner or later. Grapevine has it that The Professor gets a little upset if you mention the band to him in the classroom. He also apologized to a classmate of mine the other day for his casual attire (jeans, oh, my my my, how sexxxxxxy) when she ran in to him on campus. He's an interesting man. I want to have, to quote American Beauty, "like ten thousand of his babies." Speaking of American Beauty, I need to discuss the rampant sexiness that is Kevin Spacey. No one else I know bothered to see The Life of David Gale, which I found to be an incredibly interesting and lovely film. I was actually on the edge of my seat. And fanning myself repeatedly during the sex scenes. There's this one in a bathroom, at a party, and... well, anyhow. It was hot. (Cross Kevin Spacey off the list of people who are allowed to read this.) (Get real, Punkin, who WILL read this?) I'm still putting off making any efforts towards my Lit essay. Arrrrrgh. It was so funny, though, in class on Thursday, because I got all in to the topic at hand. I even spoke up in class, which takes my being really inspired. I should be a good little school girl, however, and do some linguistics homework. Would much rather pop in a dvd. I'm a little inspired by the making of "Legally Blonde" featurette on the dvd. There really was some vapid blonde who went to Stanford (chosen because of the campus' proximity to a really great mall, no less) who spent class time composing hilarious letters to friends. So she took the letters and turned her experience into the novel, which became the film. Hey, now, I'm thinking, I can do that! Not tonight, of course. I'm all cozy in this big old sweater I got from Salvation Army. It's very Felicity, and that makes me smile. (Sophomore year on dvd, being released June 24th, got my copy pre-ordered on Amazon). Well, I've just sneezed, and I am beginning to guilt over ignoring linguistics. Enough for now.

Oh, before I go... Is anyone else traumatized by the fact that tv's Jimmy Kimmel (formerly of LA's KROQ and the object of my stalking, I mean affection some years ago) is leaving his wife of 14 years to be with comdienne Sarah Silverman? Who knew his type was sexually explicit, funny jewish women. I was so in the running.

Holy Cow! I got this to work. It's a miracle. Now, if my love life was able to withstand such miracles. Argh. Haven't been able to post to my free open online diary, either. I keep writing these (what I consider to be) genius posts, and they won't go through. Technology is a bitch. Well, anyhow. Is anyone reading this? Maybe you might want to know more about me. Or not. I just got home from the aforementioned hideous day at work. I mean, it's not a hard day's labor in a salt mine or anything, but it can be dreadful. It seemed every customer needed more help than usual. Ahhh, today was one of those tests the universe gives you to see how much you can take. (Once again, my love life bears testament to that). A sampling of my morning:
An email, from Josh:
"Sorry for the intrusion...my guest wandered off the leash"
My reply:
"We need to talk"
So he calls me, and we talk. It is hard when the boy you love has a fat ugly bridesmaid from Long Island staying at his house for ten days. You know, the one he met back in the fall when you two were a couple when he went to PA for his brother's wedding. The one who wants to move out here. The one he can't stand. The one he's got a big ol' secret from. And, yup, you've guessed it, that secret remains to be me. And the fact that we are still, ahem, having "adult sleepovers".
Tragic to some, gratifying to others.
I could go on and on...and perhaps I will. But, for now, I have to go pick up Ashley. We're going to grab some dinner. It's only Sunday, remember, and that paper isn't due til Tuesday. In my world, that's what Mondays are for. Sigh. It's not easy living in a disco world, baby.

Continually irritating! It's like the story of my life. I can't win! I can't get ahead. I am trapped like a rat at work. The woman who was supposed to be my backup has not shown up for two days in a row now. Of course, she is the person who gave us such grief about her schedule..."I need more hours" whine, whine, whine. So, we give them to her, and she pulls two no-shows no-calls in a row. How rude! And at the back of my head is a research paper due Tuesday in my 20th century European Fiction class. I'm thinking of doing the role of narrative point of view in Cotazar's short story "Blow Up". Yet again, a last minute endeavor. Well, it is only sunday, after all.

Well, this thing isn't working. I am trying to find an outlet for all my ramblings, musings, et al. I started a free online diary, and, of course, day one was great, day two i couldn't post a damn thing. grrr. server error server error la la la.

Ok, I am being egged on by my overachieving, genius level, cheesehead friend Laurie to do this thing. All my friends have websites! It sure seems that way. I know this blog land is a culture all to itself. I'm sort of a girl in search of a community these days. I have a lot on my mind, a lot of worldly, cultural, relevant and also irrelevant topics swirling about. So, here goes!