justify my love

i don't care what anyone says...

this girl loves her some madonna.

"i'm deadly, kick-you-in-the-headly"*

in the middle of the night last night i woke up from a sound sleep. the cat was curled up next to me, like a miniature person, head on the pillow, chin resting on her little paw. a little bit of grey night sky filtered in through my annoying and unattractive vertical blinds.

"i think it's time i had a little talk with the powers that be," i said out loud. i guess i said it to myself, or to no one, or to the powers that be. but i said it.

i turned on my back and arranged myself comfortably.

"so, here's the deal, universe. all in all i think i'm a pretty good egg. i'm taking care of things, i'm working, i'm less than a year away from my first college degree. i'm trying to stay on top of my finances, and i am trying to be in better contact with all my friends near and far. i am trying to remember to send cards and little gifts for birthdays, to return emails, to tidy the kitchen when i make a mess. i'm doing pretty well. but, universe, i'm a little sick and tired of not getting what i want."

pause. this is kind of whiny, and i don't want to phrase things the wrong way.

"see, i realize now that i only thought i wanted josh. so i had him, and he was a crappy boyfriend. okay, i understand that. and i've fully dealt with the results of not being with him. i'm proud of me that this morning i went under my bed and dug out the box of my stuff he returned to me almost two months ago, and without a racing heartbeat or tear in my eye i opened it up, got out what i needed, and went on with my day. that's progress! i'm not devastated anymore. and i'm ready to move on."

pause. this was a big admission. breathe in, breathe out.

"so, the whole thing with the v.d.b. didn't go the way i wanted it to. i wanted there to be someone out there who just adored me so much that they would be willing to risk the difficulty of a long-distance relationship. but that wasn't meant to be. so i'm okay with the way that's turning out, and i'm looking forward to seeing him again soon, and maybe having some of that magic again for a night or two. i just wish that it could have gone more, well, the way i wanted it to."

pause. new thought.

"now, there's the issue of a certain mr. _____________- (the professor). universe, i really want him. i am fully willing to accept the consequences of what this could bring. and i think i'm doing an okay job of moving things along. i'm thinking he was a little interested and possibly ruffled by the top i wore to class tonight. i mean, he's a man, after all, i'm sure he noticed. and all those delicious little moments we shared, before the class, during the class, after the class. he very deliberately walked off the campus with me, and included me in his conversation with that ugly old cow, i mean, that nice lady who is a former student of his. and, universe, the emails! well, i don't have to tell you. but if you could just sort of bump things, nudge things in my favor, i'd sure appreciate it. because i feel like now i kind of deserve to have what i want. and what i want is him. i need a little danger, a little excitement, a little sexual passion. his intelligence astonishes me. his looks make me melt into the soles of my shoes. i forget my name when i'm near him. so, please, universe, just a little something to help this girl finally get something she wants..."

"thank you... and goodnight."

*from the song "deadly diva" (lust pollution, songs from a moist place)

punkin: the afterschool special

after cheap opening credits (underscore: some hideous unsigned faux garage band playing what 45 year old executives think is what the kids all love), and brief voice over narration explaining who i am, and why life was pretty ho-hum until now, we see punkin (i'm thinking of tiffani-amber thiessen playing me, for no reason other than she's hot), showing up to a party on a saturday night.

party scene: the condo of "k & a", smart, sophisticated one-year married couple and friends of punkin.
the decor is mod, the crowd well-dressed and friendly.
the bar is open.

punkin pours herself a liberal jack and coke. cozies up to friend and one-time fling "s". "s" tells punkin two things: one that he's working on a script that has something to do with norse mythology (insert IKEA jokes here) and two, that he's recently single.

cut to: punkin pours herself a second liberal jack and coke.

cut to: punkin chatting with lovely friends.

cut to: punkin pours herself a third liberal jack and coke. now punkin starts to say things like: "did i ever tell you that my ex always loved your boobs?" and "will you make out with me?"

sober gal-pal fuzzeranne: "did you drive here?"

drunk punkin: "uh-huh. you're so pretty, fuzzeranne!"

sober gal-pal fuzzeranne: "thanks. we're going to take your car key out of your purse, and one of us will take you home, ok?"

drunk punkin:"ooohhhkay! i have feet!"

cut to: punkin accepts a chocolate martini from someone. she is observed telling people things she would never tell them while sober. she makes really late phone calls to ashley (no answer, she's sleeping, of course!) and bunny (who is highly amused, and willing to come collect the drunk punkin if needed). punkin is overheard saying:

"i'm so drunk!"
"i am that girl at the party, the one who gets stupid drunk."
"i have feet!"
"have i ever told you how much i like you, (insert name of friend here)?"
"you're so beautiful!"
"he won't make out with me!"

cut to: friend taking punkin home, punkin blabbling a little too much about things she's done in life with people friend knows. (oops!)

punkin arrives at home, very late at night. then, we hear, a voice from upstairs...

l.q.t.: "punkin?"

drunk punkin: "l.q.??? do ya got a smoke? i'm pretty drunk!"

l.q.t.: "me too!"

the two girls giggle, until punkin makes her way to bed out of dire need for the room to stop spinning.

this afterschool special does have a happy ending.

what did we learn?

*punkin can party like it's 1999
*punkin is lucky to have friends who take care of her
*punkin has great friends
*punkin does not, however, have friends who will make out with her at parties when they're suddenly single, but who will do all sorts of things with her when they have girlfriends.
*punkin was very happy to see her car again on sunday.
*punkin had a g-r-e-a-t time!

gas, grass or ass... no one rides for free*

so beloved gal-pal (and scintillating improv soap star) fuzzeranne made me an offer i couldn't refuse, setting me up with a night of delight and entertainment courtesy of the fine folks i used to know as l.a. theatresports, but am now forced to refer to as improtheatre. i caught the latest live and on the spot episode of said soap opera carnal peaks (fabulous!) and then for an even more fabulous treat, i stuck around with the gang to see two improv pros, dan o'connor and stephen kearin (of l.a.t.s. and b.a.t.s. and other fine groups) doing a rare two man show. my jaw hurts from laughing so hard! a lovely night of laughter that reminded me just why i do improv theatre in the first place.

afterwards i went "next door" per the norm and enjoyed a midori sour and cocktail conversation with many lovely individuals. the topic at hand: how honest should you be when giving reasons to a romantic partner in breaking up. it seems a young fellow at our table was facing this dillemma, and needed some advice. our consensis was be truthful but tactful. you don't have to be blatantly mean, but you don't want to get into making up elaborate lies to spare someone. sometimes it's okay to just say "we're in different places" or "i don't feel we have a chemistry". anyhow, the topic seems like a downer, but we spiced it up with some jokes and chit chat, so it worked out rather well.

*window sticker on the car in front of me as i drove into hollywood last night.

le mot du jour: lovely

it is a lovely day here in los angeles. nice sunny day, nice light breeze. i cuddled with my lovely cat delilah last night, and had a lovely cup of coffee upon rising this morning. (in lovely mug painted by lovely ashley, one that spells out my name in sign language). then my lovely self went to the gym for a good long time this morning, and came home and took care of some things that really needed attention. took a deliciously well-earned shower. all contributing to the sense of loveliness. unfortunately i am at work this afternoon and evening, but "weekend becomes eclectic" is on the radio, courtesy of kcrw, and the pace is slow, and i have a party to look forward to attending tonight.

other lovely things:

windex wipes. they are like a packetful of miracles in the car.

midori sour, easy on the sour, splash of sprite. delicious.

an email of belated gratitude from the v.d.b. just plain nice.

achieving over 1,000 site hits in two weeks' time. it's like the popularity i never had in high school.

finding a skirt to wear to a wedding that has been marked down to $3.97. that's right. $3.97. god bless the gap.

if this were a mastercard commercial, right about now would be the time i said that something was "priceless".

recent searches sending the unsuspecting to this page:

alanis+morissette+exboyfriend+jagged+little+pill+inspiration
wasn't that the dorky comedian guy from full house?

carrie+cigarette+brand+"sex+and+the+city"
people will do anything to be like celebrities! (i think they put some other brand in a marlboro lights box, because eveyone knows marlboro lights have white filters, and she smokes something with a brown filter. discuss amongst yourselves.)

"i+want+a+cookie+i+want+a+raise"
me too, my friend, me too. i also want to go home, i also want sex, and i still want to know who is responsible for that song.
*postscript: these folks are responsible for that song. (thanks, kcrw playlists!!!!)

book+"watching+josh"
there's a book about this? my god, what a boring read that would be. all my ex does is watch game shows and talk to some ugly ass bridesmaid. might i suggest: watching george clooney?

and with that, i bid you a fond last-saturday-in-april farewell.

head space

where oh where has my witty self gone? i'm not even cracking myself up...

i can't bring myself to answer the colorful filthy five, nor the bland friday five. perhaps i will take a cue from krissa and t-bone and offer my own five.

i present: the five things on my mind

1. my home. part of my melancholy can be attributed to having a housemate who is less than stable. while no one is throwing glass paperweights across rooms or slamming doors or anything like that, there has been a dramatic change in the landscape of my home, and it's very saddening. i can feel it in the back of my eyes, and the bottom of my heart. it makes home a bit of an uncomfortable place to be, even in the confines of my cozy room. it makes me a little crazy, and resentful in a very private and inconsequential way. and i'm not sure how to fix things, because i've done nothing wrong; there is someone in my house who needs help beyond the scope of my understanding or capabilities, and sadly her problems are affecting the people she lives with.

2. what to do tonight? i actually have options! feeling a little sluggish, so option one is to go home and hibernate. do some yoga, tidy up, rent a flick, do some homework, do some laundry. option two is to go see my friends in the weekly installment of the improvised soap opera, carnal peaks. then i could either have post-show social time with said friends, or stay and see two improv vets do a two man late night show. or, i could go see a former classmate perform at the hotel cafe. so there are options. it's early, so who knows where i'll be later in the day, after this work day is done.

3. sex. in this department i am more like a cliche guy: i want it all the time, think about it all the time. haven't had it in a few weeks. want to have it. really want to have it.

4. headache. i have one. have had one since last night. go away, headache, go away.

5. work. i'm here, after all. may as well do some.

what remains unsaid

there are so many things that remain unsaid these days. i get a lot of applause for being forthcoming and honest in my posts, and then i chuckle to myself, and think..."this is just what i choose to share". and so much remains unsaid.

this blogging universe is an amazing thing. t-bone asked us the other day "why blog?", and i really thought about it for a few days. why do i blog?

first and foremost, i think it's because i'm a writer. not that i want to be a writer, but that i am one. it's an active thing, not a when i grow up thing. if i waited to grow up to do or be anything i'd still be sitting on the couch, tapping my toes and twiddiling my thumbs.

i've kept a journal for most of my life, since i was about eight years old. my mom brought me back a lavender colored diary with minnie mouse and gold lettering saying: "journal intime" on the cover, from a trip she made to france. it changed my life. i have every single journal i've ever written in in a box under my bed. when people ask me: "what would you take with you if you had to evacuate?", i always say my box of journals. i've always felt a little like my diaries were being written for an audience. lofty, i know, but i grew up with the notion that i would be famous, and naturally my public would be clamoring to have me publish my memoirs. so here in blog land, i have a living diary that gets read. read by people i know and love dearly, and by people i don't know, and am growing to love dearly--at least what i know of them from the things they choose to share on their blogs.

i agree with eelnahs that we're developing a sisterhood, or to give props to you amazing fellas, a community of like minded individuals. in the past few weeks i've come to rely quite a bit on the support, humor and constant companionship of this world we're constantly inventing, on this amazing tool called the internet. i love that we praise each other, that we pop in with our two cents worth in the comments, that we root on wendy when she goes in for a job interview, that we get to know what it's like for indigo steve to be in london for five weeks, how fish fared on her lunch date with some lucky guy, and we watch as snarky falls in love. (forgive me if i didn't mention you by name, these were off the cuff, and you are all loved by--at the very least--me!)

and then joe writes about depression. and something hits home.

and i think about all that's left unsaid...things that are big and things that are small. glib witticisms that i forgot to post. stories about how much fun i have, or, conversely, how angry or sad i can be. how much i think about my ex... or, really, my exes. how scared i am that my intense flaws will prevent me from ever receiving the kind of love i can give to someone. about friends i have that i worry about, and don't know how to tell them how i feel about their situations, or how to help them. about all the problems i run from.

and in between all this are the funny moments. the sweet writerly moments that i can't wait to share. the kitty cat song and dance. the fact that i really have great hair. (and, thanks ashley, that i look great in fall colors, dance like a stripper, and have a great handbag collection). the bittersweet truncated romance between me and the v.d.b. the attempted seduction of my hunky professor. music and movie reviews, and drink recipies.

so i think i'm all right. i'm pretty sure we all are. most of us are writers--i take that back; by virtue of the fact that we post and publish regularly, we are all writers. and we kind of take care of each other. there is consolation in the hum of the computer, the glare of the monitor. when i am down and out, i have a dozen amazing individuals whom i've never met who will pop in with a comment or instant message to say, "hey punkin, you rock!" and i thank you all for that. you've done this girl a world of wonders. just by reading you've done me wonders.

to all of you: i cannot let my gratitude go unsaid.

just a gal in a catsuit, trying to get to kitty-cat heaven

yesterday at work i took on the chore of glazing and firing all the pieces recently brought back to us from charity events we sponsored. one of the pieces i unpacked was a triangle shaped plate that was painted to look like a cat's face. this signalled only one thing to do:

i held the plate up to my face like a mask, did a little kitty cat dance, and sang the opening verse to "memory" from cats.

ashley and the new girl laughed; everyone else in the office ignored me.

hard core wake-up

i woke up from the strangest dream in the early morning hours today. although it had nothing to do with the absurdist topics of my dream, i sat up and was compelled to say: "he pushed her through a plate glass window."

ouch! yeah, real nice.

the passive agressive seductress

naturally, i sit in the front row of the hunky professor's class. naturally, i look (and smell--like this lately) my best for each class meeting.

my preferred method of note-taking is to write directly in my textbook.

i have taken to writing upside down things like: "i want to fuck you" and "when do i get to kiss you?", knowing full well that at any moment he may stride past me and be able to read what i've written.

i am really pushing my limits now. teetering on the brink of propriety, danger, and damage. and it's actually quite fun.

what made me smile today, and why:

l.q.t., my adorable housemate: for coming home yesterday after a week away, and staying up to chat with me.

the lady who scanned my card in at bally's fitness: for not laughing at me when i returned today after a prolonged fitness hiatus.

ashley: for seeing me and saying "lookin' good, girl!"

sonya: for putting so well into words the writing woes i go through.

mooncake: for the story about the short red dress on easter.

my shampoo: for smelling like vacation.

one of my bosses: for taking a few days off.

eelnahs: for being my choice as girl next door to me, if i lived in omaha.

juniper: for being the kind of friend who lets me call him juniper.

the v.db.: for no reason. just cause.

my mom: for leaving me a voice mail just to say hi, since she "won't be spying on the website" anymore.

turkey bacon: for being so damn yummy.

insert witty thought here

hi, my name is punkin. i'm 26 years old, and i am a royal fuck-up.

well, at least, that's how i feel at the moment.

there are about a million other people i'd rather be today. not specific people, in that creepy, 'oh god i'd give anything to be sarah jessica parker' way, but just that i'd rather be another kind of girl. girl who can properly manage money. girl who lives in a cute house as opposed to random apartment with lovely housemates. girl who gets to cuddle with hunky man at night because she's girl who moves in with boyfriend. girl who has boyfriend. girl who at least has boys interested in wooing her. girl who doesn't miss ex-boyfriend who never treated her properly to begin with. girl who didn't sob uncontrollably when "safe and sound" by sheryl crow is the surprising song played over the credits to white oleander. girl who takes care of problems when they come up. girl who shows up to class. girl who doesn't operate with this perverted sense of intellectual superiority that dictates her decisions regarding attendance to class that is for intellectual inferiors. (perhaps girl who writes clearer, shorter sentences should be on the list).

now, please, dear friends, before you raise your fingers to type a worried email to me ("are you okay?" "do you need a hug?"). please understand that i'm not all that down in the dumps. i'm not moping or sulking or feeling sorry for myself. i'm just saying that every now and then i wish the cards were played out a little differently. that i had my shit together in the areas i don't have it together in. who can say what that would do to the areas where i do have it together. because i get a lot of things right. and, fundamentally, i'm pretty damn happy with myself.

lab rat redux

so here i sit in the computer lab on campus. my drugstore.com order finally showed up (what a joke, my toothpaste was the size of my thumb!), and it was filled with yummy goodies that made me squeal with girlish delight. so i am all shiny smooth legs, and cute toenails and my sheets smell like lavender (in case any of you were on your way to my bed to take a whiff). so i feel pretty good. and today it doesn't smell like tuna in here. which i am grateful for. and, if i may say, everyone's web pages look super fantastic on a mac. i've never viewed my blog or anyone else's on a mac; there is a wait list for the pc's (classic set up, with a 'now serving' sign like at the butcher or bakery of yesteryear), and so here i am, mac-ing away, admiring how pretty it all looks. which makes me happy, too.

missing?

has anyone seen joe???? for some reason i am missing that big city cowboy. where did you go, joe? come back!

subject of illicit fantasies

there is, however, one sure way to get me to attend a class at csula. have it be taught by the sexiest man alive, my beloved hunky professor. you bet your sweet ass i'm going to that class. today we're discussing one of the bawdiest of the canterbury tales, the miller's tale. i would be the most well educated woman in the world if he taught all my classes. and so he remains the object of my schoolgirl fantasies. and they are all rather naughty. sigh.

what a cruel, cruel universe this is...

"i want a raise... i want to go home... i want sex... i want a cookie..."

i have no idea who is responsible for that strange song that i just heard on kcrw, but it was damn funny, and i basically want all those things, too, so, hey, why not?

"publicly spanked women"????

you whacky yahoo searchers. how on earth did i come up in that search?

how i spent the easter weekend:

saturday morning was supposed to be the long-awaited melrose & fairfax flea market that got rained out last month. but, oops, for some reason after an incredibly yummy breakfast at jinky's, we got there, and there was no flea market. dammit! but ashley and i are smart, think-on-the-fly kind of gals, so with an emergency phone call to my personal guru of all things hip and happening (thanks, juniper) we got the directions to head to the mecca of the knock-off handbag: santee alley in downtown l.a.

ode to the knock-off handbags: how i love thee, let me count the ways.

we emerged triumphant in less than 40 minutes, and made our way back home. ashley was off to have her hair done by some top stylist (so shi-shi of her!) and i was off to bed, due to womanly personal reasons. (ugh). it presented a slight damper in the day's fun and merriment, but with some pain pills and a nap i snapped back into gear. beloved fuzzeranne rounded me up for a semi-tasty meal at the elephant bar, followed by a late showing of a mighty wind. the movie was fantastic, though not as solid a story as guest's other work. points to the movie for having two scenes that hit close to home: first that l.a. theatresports' own floyd vanbuskirk had a whole scene to his amazing self, and second, that any color-me-miner would be proud to notice the placement of our large mermaid, all painted up and pretty, on the desk behind fred willard in his office scene. both my connections to big screen glory warmed the cockels of my heart. (mind you, i'm not sure how to spell cockels, let alone identify them on my body, so it may have been indigestion.)

phone call from the easter bunny

i have a friend i call bunny, and she called me today to wish me a happy easter. she told me at work she was one of the people in charge of handing out candy today, thereby legitimately making her the easter bunny.

b.e.e.p.

ladies and gentlemen, may i introduce b.e.e.p.: the better eating and exercising plan. starts tomorrow, monday, at 7:30 a.m. sharp. i figure, if today we celebrate christ rising from the dead, tomorrow we start working on resurrecting my health and well-being. so today marked the last hurrah of my laziness and indulgent eating.

today's consumption included:
breakfast at millie's in silver lake (veggie scramble with sour cream and guacamole, rosemary potatoes and a biscuit with butter and jam), leftovers from last night's dinner (pan fried soba noodles with veggies), dryer's dreamery 'fortunate vanilla' ice cream, some doritos salsa verde chips, a can of coca cola, and several twizzlers. i am disregarding the fact that easter candy (those damn eggs) goes on sale tomorrow, and am taking the high road... right on past them. it's daily workouts for me, high protein-low carb meals, and lots of h2o. this punkin needs to feel better about herself! and look hot for all the guys that are bound to be pounding down her door.

a final admission:

my hair looked so great on friday that i was shocked and dismayed that no one told me just how great it looked.

so i spent a good long while telling myself just how great it looked.

and then i took a picture of it.

gawd, i'm cute!

"i'm a girl and you're a boy..."

because matt:
would put his hand on the small of my back as we walked to our seats to watch the l.a. philharmonic.
would send me emails at work for no reason other than to say "hi sweetie i love you so much and can't wait to see you again".
would show up at my door with flowers on any random day.
bought me a ring for our sixth month anniversary.

because m:
stretched out with me on the sweet springtime grass in brand park.
would read william carlos williams poems to me aloud over a tiny table in a tiny cafe.
seduced me on a pool table.
was a poet who had no idea how many poems i'd written about him.

because dennis:
was the first to fall in love with me, and couldn't wait a minute longer to tell me.
and i kissed in the aisles of the bookstore where we worked during a power outage.
sent me off on a plane trip with the most amazing love notes.

because stephen:
cooked for me.
loved it when i'd sing and dance to backstreet boys songs in the middle of food 4 less.
drew me a bath; first a cartoon on a wipe-board, and then a tub full of flower petals, surrounded by candles.

because josh:
held my hand during sheryl crow's encore songs.
would hold me close to him all night long, through wind storms, loud neighbors' noise invasions, earthquakes and toothaches.
and i had a passion that defied our own expectations.

because for different reasons, and in different ways i loved them all.

and for those reasons i cried tonight.

"and you could put your arms around her..."

i want to find love again.

a little bird poop...and someone was feeling their love

i offer this tale from my own personal life story as a companion tale to today's post by the joker at bathtub gin.

once upon a time, many years ago, young punkin had a brief, but adventure-filled, career as a door-to-door canvasser for greenpeace. this was the thankless job of going door to door asking for donations and membership renewals night after night. (bring back memories, laurie?) we had a map of 'turf' plotted out for us, outlining what blocks we were responsible for. we had little white cards listing names and addresses of past supporters located on our turf. we had a list of possible topics to 'rap' about. we called payday "bar night". wait, that's another story. once again, i've digressed...

so it's a lovely los angeles weekday evening, and i've sat down on a little grassy patch near the curb to sort out my turf map, my donor cards, my pamphlets. and...plop! a bird sitting on a phone wire above me drops his poop right on my clipboard. "eeeew, gross!" i think!

now there is a little red junker car parked about a foot or two over from where i sit. i see a hand reaching towards the opened passenger window, and it's waving out a tissue my way. "wow!" i'm thinking now. "how nice of this stranger to have witnessed my plight, and now he is offering me a tissue to help me tidy up! who needs to be a cynic these days, this is an act of true kindness!"

so i get up, and walk to the car window, and reach out to accept the tissue from the driver.

and then i see it.

yeah, i really see it. it. his "manhood", right in the palm of his hand. and it isn't a still life. there's some action going on there.

what always gets me is that look of rapt pride that washes over their faces. like: "look at me, i'm masturbating in a parked car in los feliz, and i want to share it with you, innocent eighteen year old non-profit canvasser!"

i don't know how i kept my cool, but i did. i politely took the tissue, went back to my belongings, gathered them up, and trotted off. ok, i scampered off, rather quickly.

he followed me for a couple of blocks, until i lost him on some hilly, narrow side street.

am i scarred for life? nah. look at what a great story it makes!

and now...once again from pussyranch, the filthy five:

1. as a kid, did you ever experiment sexually with one of your friends? this could run the gamut from pretending to have sex while "playing house," or "wrestling," or actual nooky.

i used to build forts with the kid who lived across the street from me on glenarden in toronto. i think his name was david silver. he was a couple of years younger than me. his mom would make us strawberry quick, and we would show each other how we peed in the backyard. i remember he was the first kid i ever knew who learned phonics in school. his kid sister debra had the best collection of strawberry shortcake videotapes, too. oh yeah, and i got married in pre-school to michael silber. the marriage was never consumated.

2. have you ever had a sexual experience with someone of a different sex/gender than your usual flavor? if you're equally into guys and chicks, i guess this question is void, but most people tend to lean one way or another.

i do like the boys. i have kissed one girl, vicki pellman, when a bunch of us (including daytime emmy winner david tom) were drunk in rosarito, mexico. it was this amazingly starry night, and all eight or so of us were lying on this giant trampoline on the beach, and we were playing truth or dare, and somehow vicki and i ended up kissing. i get loads of girly crushes, but nothing comes of them. i think i'd giggle too much.

3. sex toys: yes or no. if yes, what is your favorite one? elaborate, please.

in all sincerity... i am the only sex toy i need.

4. what kind of stuff do you like your partner to wear before or during sex? traditional vicky's secret lingerie, boxer briefs, a choir robe, what?

well, i do prefer boxers. if we start fully clothed, i do adore the process of taking it off. but nothing fantastical. no costumes.

5. have you ever had a threesome or foursome or some such variety of clusterfuck?

not techinically, however... there was me, a guy named tim from tennessee, and an old friend named megan, all tipsy and in one bed, and there was plenty going on between me and tim and megan and tim. but never me and megan. it just wasn't the time.

in regards to the friday five:

this week is all about celebrities. now, i'm no big time elbow rubbing celeb junky. but i have met my share of celebs, and they al have accompanying funny stories to go with the encounters (tori spelling needing change for a payphone! literally bumping in to michael stipe, ethan hawke! almost being pictured in people mag with courtney love! vince vaughan and joey lauren adams trying to sneak me into a party! teaching cybill shepard and her kids how to paint ceramics! sinbad!) (ok, sinbad isn't really a celebrity, but he had the nerve to lie down on the floor of the computer books aisle in the bookstore i used to run) i've been drunk off my ass with soap stars, and have been in the bathroom of maggie from the nanny's house (nicholle tom), when sharon chrusky (devon odessa) from my so called life shows up to paint her toenails before a date. and this is just a few of them...

so i'll leave the friday five once again, and i will bust out the funny celeb stories when the mood strikes.

now have a damn fine weekend, everyone!

spring fresh punkin

i was beginning to sense (ok, and ari told me) that the red background was hard on the eyes, the screen, the mental process of it all... so i went for spring pink. kind of a cheeky pink--girly, but ever-sassy. i want you all to know that this was done in html, somewhat on the fly, as i sit here at someone else's computer at work. but--i finally got the little tiny corner that was blue and yellow to go away. you may not have ever noticed this, but i sure did, and i am 'raising the roof' in celebration. whoo hoo.

so the sad fact remains that i don't have my internet connection at home. and the computer situation at work is scary at best. so i might be off my instant messenger (aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!) for a few days. apparently the fine folks at earthlink disconnected the hardware that does the dsl, and can't get it back on until april 22nd. this hurts me, right in the heart. but it isn't the end of the world.

hot date

i was supposed to have a hot date with a friend last night, and it didn't happen. so i decided to be the tacky, single l.a. woman and i got some takeout chinese, a six pack of tsing-tao beer, and watched the 2 hour bachelor. holy crap. i am as pathetic as i sound.

hang in there

i did leave a cloud of mystery around the current situation with the v.d.b., and this is very deliberate. it is a bittersweet story that is unfolding as we speak, but not in the manner as some might like it to be. and i'm still sort of digesting things. and he reads this blog. and he knows i know that he reads it. so i'm not ready to go public, because it's kind of delicate. not in a bad way. not in a meg ryan meets tom hanks and all is great way, either. i can sum it up temporarily by saying: "we like each other, but..." and then point to los angeles on the map with one hand, and san francisco with the other. note the distance. note problem. sigh.

just how many people out there own tshirts that say 'gettin lucky in kentucky'?

because i keep seeing them all over town. vintage-ha!

so i can't guarantee when i'll be back--i can't check with the regularity that i normally do, so por favor, send me email (chevy!!!!) and i can answer your burning questions. meanwhile i leave my brain free to formulate witty and stimulating posts for days to come.

lab rat memos

1. to my beloved but forgetful housemate angel bunny: please pay the dsl bill so i can use my computer at home. the lab at school is hot, crowded, and i can't smoke cigs or drink coffee in here. i know you are at disneyland today...so while you are at the happiest place on earth, think of me, here in hell.

2. to the bathtub repair men who came last week: i know you stole my tom's of maine toothpaste. it was brand new, and disappeared oddly enough the day you were there. next time, i watch you like a hawk.

3. to drugstore.com: please hurry and ship my package. not only is there replacement toothpaste (trying burt's bees this time), but loads of feel-good girly things that will cheer this punkin up.

4. to the sexy professor: is it normal for a professor to sign an email "yours, initials"??? did you mean to say "i missed you in class" instead of "we missed you in class"? do you have a secret fantasy type crush on me? if so, can we work this out during office hours, maybe butt naked on your desk?

5. to the v.d.b.: this is what i mean by sneaky. and i like it!

6. to my mom: you are the same kind of sneaky. now it makes me nervous...

7. to my boss: you really should pay people what they are worth. i'm no fool.

8. to the people who searched yahoo for "tori amos retiring" and more importantly "yoga queef" and found my site: thanks for the laughs.

9. to the girl with the bleach job, high heels, and white jeans walking across campus: i see london, i see france...

sincerely (#2,3, 7,,8) or affectionately (#'s 1, 4-6)

punkin

three things for this tuesday afternoon:

1. precarious plumbing

everytime i take a shower in my apartment i feel like shelley long from the money pit.

like at any moment i could go crashing through the floor.

only, instead of being blonde, perky and receiving a handsome paycheck, i'd be naked, bleeding and clutching the rim of the bathtub while suddenly finding myself in my own kitchen.

2. non-sexual crushes:

i have fallen madly in love in a non-sexual way with two internet people, (three counting the fabulous cati) . the newly home-re-decorated eelnahs and the leaner and meaner all protein joe.

feel free to love them with passion and abandon, too.

3. aren't you curious?

i'm wondering if you want to know what i look like.

feel free to let me know if you think i am:
a) cute
b) pretty
c) passable
d) do-able
e) hot
f) attractive
g) beautiful
h) sexy
i) stunning
j) gorgeous
k) all of the above

i need the ego boost. if you don't see your answer on that list, remember, if you don't have anything nice to say...you know the rest.

bonus fourth thing:

i'll let you know about v.d.b. developments...soon. it's still a little fresh.

why i love martha stewart

cooking segment, martha stewart living. staff member/inexperienced chef helps martha make simple, tasty lemon-shrimp fusili pasta with watercress.

they finish up, and take the first bite. mmmm...

staff member: "we did good!"

martha: (laughing) "we did well."

god, she's such a bitch. and that's why i love her.

saving the day before bedtime

some times i just wish i were a powerpuff girl.

t.m.i.

ahh, the internet. fine purveyor of too much information.

the sassy little punkin has reason to believe that the v.d.b. has been culling info about myself and himself via the punkin patch, aka this very blog. so you see, gang, i'm not the only person reading up on myself!

so what does this mean?

well, first i went into a panic. when the evil one read up on what punkin really thinks about him, he went a little mental. (to which, i maintain, he received no reply from me, privately or publicly). it was a tragi-comedy at best.

a portion of the panic included me scrolling through the page minutes ago, looking for incriminating references to the v.d.b. i suppose the term of 'incriminating' is open to interpretation, but with the exception of a true tale of the bedroom told not entirely out of school, there is not a darn thing 'incriminating'.

in fact, to lay it out in plain, unadorned language: i like the v.d.b.

so you might know who you are. and you know you're liked.

i don't think that's all that bad.

what i don't know is what you think about it.

moderately bitter

i just said bye to lqt. my darling housemate #2 is off on a mini-road trip up into nor-central cali on her spring break from grad school. did she ask if it was ok to leave me for a whole week? no! kidding. but i will miss her. she's good times. and i'm jealous that real people in the real world take real vactions, for like, a whole week at a time. my world doesn't work that way, and for that i am moderately bitter. just moderately.

because the good folks who run this apartment building can't ever completely fix the plumbing our water may or may not go on hiatus again today. which makes showering, toilet flushing, teeth brushing, dish washing, and most definitely laundry dificult things to do. which leaves me no choice but to settle down and catch up on my homework for fanny-pack's torturous class. i am now three homeworks behind, which means i need to employ some drastic measures. and what would i rather do? oh, well, naturally, anything but. so for those reasons, i remain moderately bitter.

i feel like someone has reached inside me and adjusted my 'fun and witty' dial, turning it way down low.

i do try to be that 'girl-who-goes-out-and-does-fun-things', but it is so hard. in between work shifts this weekend i had cocktails with the girls at our party pad (thanks wendy for the idea!), made nice-nice at the gallery opening at my work, went and saw 'spun' with ashley, and went to dinner with dear darling bunny. i get this feeling like i'm not having enough fun. should i drink more? go to more bars? see more bands? and then i realize, i don't necessarily like those things. i am having trouble being content with being me. but i feel obligated to be someone else, or someone different. like an all new and improved me, ala namebrand detergent, with new 'fresh-clean' scent and extra bleaching power, safe for whites and brites.

over the past couple of years i have developed this nasty habit of always 'doing' something, obligating myself to all sorts of people and projects and tasks, and then the minute i sit still and relax i am overcome with the 'doing-nothing' brand of guilt. then i feel like i should be doing something. and then i wind up not doing the things that i need to do, like going to class, homework, laundry, taxes. this is seeming like a character flaw. i am defective.

moderately bitter and slightly defective.

last night

last night was girly fun night with ashley and the lovely housemates. so so so nice to unwind and be silly.

we drank these
we listened to this, this and then for fun, this.
we also ate, among other things, far too many of these.

we played this for a while, too:
if _________ were a _________, what would they be? found out that if punkin were an alcoholic drink she would be either a mai tai (sweet and a novelty, complete with umbrella), a rum and coke (the old standby, a classic) or a mojito (theme of the night, but also satisfactory analogy based on sweet, tangy, refreshing, mildly bubbly attributes). just ask yourself: "if i were the winner of american idol, what would my chart topping first single be?"

a very good time was had by all.

this morning

this morning my tired out ass got to sleep in. the night before i was up until 3:30 a.m., shopping on drugstore.com, buying loads of fun things. i'm sure i will squeal with joy when the box arrives, and share said joy with you, my loyal readers. anyhow, after late night e-commerce binge i finally got to sleep in the wee wee wee hours, only to notice at 6:30 a.m. that lovely housemate LQT was on the balcony. it was very hitchcockian. i saw her silhouhette... "lq?" i called out. turns out she was woken by some public abuse happening on the street below. how completely uncool. i have slept through fires in the apartments across the street, so it is no wonder i slept through this as well. to say the least, when the alarm went off around 7:30 a.m., this punkin was t-i-r-e-d!

by the miracle of my own scheduling genius i do not work until later this afternoon. this is a rare event on a saturday.

until then, i am enjoying the company of this (in sage green, thank you very much), as well as this. followed by a shower and lunch and i am ready to go here.

the friday 'one' since the other four questions on the list s-u-c-k...

1. what was the first band you saw in concert?
i know for sure i was forced to sit through some hard-core canadian content kids entertainment, of the likes of sharon, lois & bram and raffi. i also recall some hideous thing with that annoying song 'hot hot hot' and steel drums at ontario place, on the lawn. that was living, breathing firespitting hell. the first concert, though, that i expressed interest in attending was billy joel (maybe this isn't so hot to admit, either, but i have had a lifelong crush on him, and he rocks the house) at maple leaf gardens in toronto, february 1990, with my dad, my step mom and my friend leah. billy wore all black but had on red socks, and he did a goddamn backflip off his piano. it was also, coincidentally, the first time the term "sitting in the nosebleed section" was introduced to me.

and now... the alternative: the filthy five, courtesy of pussyranch

1. what is your most embarassing sexual moment?
well, the word 'queef' (spell check?) comes to mind. when a girl's getting her brown flower opened and probed some pesky air always gets pushed around, and has to come out somewhere. but that doesn't happen because my brown flower no longer blooms.

however... since i don't get all that embarrassed, i will take this opportunity to tell a funny story. (mom, please, if you're reading this, stop now. go no further.)

last month the sassy little punkin entertained three different fellas on three different nights in her boudoir. this is not typical punkin behavior, but she was coming out of a relationship with the evil one, and acted out a bit. person one was the evil one, person two was the difficult one (see bottom left panel of page to decode this) and person three was the v.d.b. punkin, mind you, had had just about all of her sex for the past year over at the evil one's house, so entertaining in her bed (which used to be a dining room table, but that is another story entirely) was a bit of a novelty. here are three glimpses at those three encounters:

sunday march 2nd, 2003
(motion and happy sounds)
(bed really starts to squeak)
punkin: (giggling) "squeaky bed!"
the evil one: (throws head up, concentration broken) "what?"
punkin: "i said, squeaky bed"
the evil one: "oh" (resumes activity)

monday march 10th, 2003
(motion and happy sounds)
(bed really starts to squeak)
punkin: (giggling) "squeaky bed!"
the difficult one: (throws head up, concentration broken) "what?"
punkin: "i said, squeaky bed"
the difficult one: "oh" (resumes activity)

saturday march 15th, 2003
(motion and happy sounds)
(bed really starts to squeak)
punkin: (giggling) "squeaky bed!"
the v.d.b.: (throws head up, concentration broken) "what?"
punkin: "i said, squeaky bed"
the v.d.b.: "oh" (resumes activity)

2. if you had to be spanked or spank, which would you choose?
had to? how about wanted to? either, but not too hard. punkin likes it sweet.

3. what's your weirdest kink? come on, seriously, you've got weirder than that, you know you do...
wow, i don't know. i'm gonna have to get back to you on that one.

4. what's hotter, hard core or soft core?
hard core is hotter for the action, but soft core hotter for the 'humor' and 'eroticism'. whatever gets the party started...

5. clothes on or clothes off?
either way! there's something to be said for a need so urgent that the clothes just get pushed aside temporarily. and then there's a lot to be said for stripping each other down and taking the time to explore the whole kit and caboodle.

i'm sorry, but after answering those questions i need a moment to myself to regain my composure. excuse me.

ohmygod! who is that sexy thang?

my hair is so fabulous today that i can't stop thinking about it, or touching it. it's a shame you all can't see it, because it really is lovely, and shiny, and soft. it's so nice, in fact, that i am thinking about going back to stalking myself. i've been re-inspired. i'm just too hot to not obsess over. i'm so worth it.

knowing the mind of a stalker, i am sure that what i will do next is try to google my own name or nicknames to see what random facts and tidbits i can glean from the internet, abundant resource of all things informative. to help my own plight, i will now provide some info about myself so that when i do my google search i can unearth some shocking bits of trivia. then i will mull endlessly over the information, and try to see how i fit in to the picture. (if you are new to the punkin patch check out the archives and see the inception of my self-stalking program)

in the name of helping mankind, i offer the following things you might not know about the sassy little punkin:

1. i am not a natural redhead! there are several boys out there who can attest to that. (ok, now i'm just being gross. it feels naughty, but good.)

2. i recently appeared on an episode of blind date. not, however, as the dater or datee, but as the "welcome to color me mine" girl. i have not yet seen this gem of television entertainment, but i made the production guy promise i wouldn't have any of those rude comment bubbles popping up over my head. people, in fact, recognize me from this slice of my eternal fifteen minutes of fame.

3. one of my dreams in life is to take a trip that follows the path of the ingalls family from the little house on the prairie books. these were real people, who went from wisconsin to kansas to minnesota to iowa to south dakota and finally to missouri. it's not really much like the tv show at all, and i can dazzle just about anyone on little house trivia. bring it on!

4. i consider myself to be a conneisseur of coleslaw. i prefer the creamy kind, and homemade is most always better than anything, especially the toxic sludge in the deli section of a supermarket. some of my favorite coleslaws are: my nana's homemade, rocky cola diner in montrose, california, and any canadian kentucky fried chicken, circa 1989. it is an exception to all my coleslaw rules because it is a violent shade of lime green, and probably has nothing in it fit for human consumption.

5. david duchovny of the x files told a story about me to millions of viewers when he was a guest on the david letterman show in 1995. this is an excellent story, and some day, when you kids pipe down, sit still, and stop pinching each other i might share it with you at story time. here is a clip of that momentous occasion. i'll have you all know that in order to locate that link i had to go into my 'stash' email account and into the 'evil one' file where i have hidden all our email correspondence. (makes unattractive nasty face) i have many funny celebrity stories to share, but i don't want to blow my wad all at once, ya know?

6. last, but certainly not least, i love you all very very much. give yourselves a big, wet, sloppy kiss for me.

well, there... i hope that gives me something to go on, you know, tide over the beast with an appetite for all things sweet and punkin-like. she really is yummy, isn't she?

p.s. did i mention i have great hair?

p.p.s. the v.d.b. might be making a trip to l.a. next month. i plan on inviting him to spend the night with yours truly. (big grin)

tomorrow: direct from pussyranch, the all new filthy five. (mom, you might want to skip this one.)

the sassy little punkin knows exactly what she is:

eye candy for the truck drivers.

ain't it a shame that all the world don't got keys to their own ignitions*

since my life has become an endless cycle of driving back and forth to campus, you may find me driving in the green jetta (name: brigitta) on the freeway, sun roof open, rocking out and shamelessly singing along to this newly compiled set of tunes:

1. dubstar: stars
2. rufus wainwright: california *as quoted above
3. beth orton: stolen car
4. cat power: speak for me
5. chemical brothers: the state we're in
6. sarah mclachlan: do what you have to do (live)
7. brand new heavies: you are the universe
8. jewel: down so long
9. buggles: video killed the radio star
10. bettie serveert: tom boy
11. pete yorn: for nancy (cos it already is)
12. sheryl crow: there goes the neighborhood
13. lust pollution: sex toys
14. 10,000 maniacs: these are days
15. kylie minogue: love at first sight
16. nick glider: hot child in the city
17. groove armada: i see you baby (shakin' that ass)
18. tracy chapman: baby can i hold you

"pretty little sex toys"

...so croons my beloved professor of all things chaucer on his band's album... yes, i know he's 'taken'. and there i sit, in the front row, with him just inches from my face. i try not to stare, but, oh, how can't i? i am so painfully close i can study in detail the lovely tanned skin of his neck, the scruffy beard growth, his sexy new dark rimmed glasses, his coffee brown eyes and sweet lashes. the tiny speck of something in his teeth--oopsies, there, dr.c! once i looked up from my book and i was faced with his crotch. holy crap. never has the canterbury tales been such a riveting piece of literature. i wish he taught all my classes. i wish he bagged my groceries, was the teller at my bank, was at the counter at the dmv, was the barista at my local starbucks. life would be so much more pleasant if everything was the professor. double sigh.

unceremonious roses

why did the bachelor give a rose to that drunk loser amber, and not to sassy elizabeth? i had all the losers but her pegged. damn!

things i would like to add, go ahead and file under miscellaneous:

1. i am still much enamored with the very deserving boy (v.d.b.). we are in fairly regular email contact (few times a week), though we both are busy with our respective school and work lives. i would like to go see him in s.f. in mid-june, provided he opts to stay in the city for the summer. when he gets his damn ducks in a row i'll make some plans. but, yeah... i definitely miss him. i'm laying low, however, and just enjoying the sweetness of it all. i don't want to be like the bridesmaid, ambushing the evil one. shudder to think.

2. i got my report card from last quarter, and it wasn't as bad as i thought--linguistics: b, phiolosophy of emotions: b, and 20th century european lit: a. hot stuff. (does a little rump shakin'-arm swingin' celebratory dance. feel free to join in.)

3. am going to co-worker's wedding as 'date' of gal-pal/co-worker lane. (i didn't actually get my own invitation, so i can't invite the v.d.b., as texas t-bone so nicely suggested. i wish i could, but, alas, it isn't in the stars.) and, haven't a thing to wear. oh, hell.

4. if you haven't already, i insist that you fall madly in love with cati fabulous. just do it. now. you'll thank yourself later.

5. today i smell like this. yummy! thanks, fuzzeranne!

6. i have a jiggling-wiggling plastic lilo of lilo and stitch fame glued to my dashboard. she's on a surfboard. i got her in a happy meal at mcdonalds on the bus mall in portland, oregon. sometimes i like to tap her, and make her move back and forth. when i do that i always say: "dance bitch, dance." it's fun.

pilgrimage to the greatland

so it was suggested to me by a very wise older personage (thanks, mom!) that in order to escape the choking, life-threatening fumes in my apartment that i should go out and run an errand.

translation: shopping!

have you ever seen that god-awful show called spend it fast? it's on the women's entertainment channel (we), which is a pale redux of lifetime, except with felicity reruns. i would catch it every now and then in my past life; back when i a) had cable and b) didn't associate anything remotely game-show-ish with the evil one. (game shows, fyi, are probably the only reason the evil one has not yet comitted suicide. i used to think his obsession was *so cute*, but now it's just sad...)

anyhow...

the premise of the show is that some lucky viewer (usually a well-coiffed and styled suburbanite) gets a large sum of money to spend fast at a local retail establishment. i must mention that they go into these folks' houses, and it's rather obvious that they don't need any help in purchasing household goods, as they all seem to be on the well-off side. why they don't ask some welfare mom or kid in a college dorm to spend it fast is beyond me. i guess camera crews ambushing a housing project is considered hard journalism, whereas the spend it fast folks are more, well, women's entertainment. you know, a consideration of aesthetics. now, should they ever 'surprise' me at home (with my hair done, my makeup done, and my microphone pack in place in my waistband, "ding-dong!" "hello? oh my god, no way!"), do you know where i would wand to spend it fast?

target

god, i love that place! it is a place of wonder and amazement. aisles and aisles of shiny, packaged promises of happiness.

so, i went to target yesterday to escape the fumes.

it was a long, hard, grueling shop. i had to work very hard to blend in with the suburban housewives who were nonchalantly spending their husband's disposable incomes. i had to make some last minute decisions, like: 'should i get this lip gloss?' and 'what brand of cd-r's is the best value'. because, after all, target is about value. i also had a personal moment of reflection in the shaving supplies section. girls, you'll back me up on this one. is the venus razor not the best thing ever? but, man, oh, man, are those refill cartriges just way too expensive??!! now i can make one blade last a good 6-8 weeks. but the good people at gillette have forced me to buy four new cartriges at one time, at a whopping $7.99. the price we pay for beauty! so really, on my last round thorugh this red shirt and khaki pants wonderland i thought: 'i need to treat myself. i really deserve it.'

damn you, cadbury's eggs. damn you straight to hell.

the english department secretary thinks i'm an ass...

yesterday i was that nasty student, sitting at the back of the room rolling my eyes, making faces (mostly eyes wide in horror) as the professor "taught" (insert fingers-making-quotation-marks-gesture here) henry the fifth. this woman is unbelievable. and, to top it off, she wears a fanny pack. frontways. all during class. she even pauses, unzips, and retrieves things from it. oh, honey!

anyhow, i just called the english department to see what happened to the professor that i thought was teaching this class (and, the reason i signed up). she retired. i tried to phrase my dilemma as nicely as possible to the woman on the phone: "and what if, uh, i'm in the class, but i'm not so sure it's going to...work out for me." (god i'm difficult). i could hear her eyes rolling. drily she said "look, you've got to find another class, ask the teacher if they have room for you to add in. but today is the last day to drop over the phone, so if you don't do it today you will have to get a form, get two signatures, and you will have a 'w' on your record for withdrawing aftr the deadline." well, we don't want that, now do we? christ. i guess it's ten weeks of fanny-pack and her questionable methods. apparently she needs kenneth branagh's cinematic genius to help her teach shakespeare to grown ups.

meanwhile, back at the ranch...

there are two men in the other room. and a hole in my bathtub. and a stench seeping in under the door. it has taken about a week to get them here. maybe this time the repair will be effective, and i can take a bath without causing niagara falls to pay a visit to my kitchen one floor down. i ask the gods, however, why can't you send me attractive repair men? some hunky fellow who is just doing bathtub repairs to pay his way through graduate school. an adorable guy who sees me, disheveled in my jammies and straggling up the stairs with my giant mug of coffee, and thinks: "that's the dreamy, smart, sexy, sweet girl for me!" and all the day while he sands and seals and fiberglasses (end of limited bathtub repair terminology here) he is thinking about me, on the other side of the bathroom door. maybe thinking of how, oh, just how could he approach me and ask to take me to a nice dinner. maybe he's writing a little poem for me in his head.

rescue mission!

i have just made two rescue missions into the battefield that is my bathroom. the non-cute workers have done what they do best, which is mostly have no regard for other people's stuff. hence the pile of shower goodies in the sink. and the brown butcher paper taped over the counter top. mission number one yielded my fish, (named rabbit) who was suffocating in his bowl, having been one of the items cover by the tape and paper. ("oh, you have a fish?" one of these gems asked me. thanks for noticing.) mission number two yielded my handblown glass items, for fear an errant hammer or tool would crash down on them. yes, i know we live in an apartment in north hollywood, but, for crying out loud, ask us to move our own things out of there!

weakened by fumes...

the stench is gettin unbearable. this is not a pleasant way to spend my one morning off.

the tacky tiki hut presents: come get leid for punkin's halfsies.

i'm not kidding about my half birthday. the housemates and i have put a low budget but high design plan in place to refurbish the downstairs. come june 28th the tacky tiki hut will be a-rockin', so i hope you all can come a-knockin'. because we are going to have a p-a-r-t-y!!!!!!!!!

can't take it anymore!

the fumes have now also become a taste in my mouth. this can't be helping the unborn children i may or may not have some day. (gags, coughs, retching sounds). i'm gonna have to love you and leave you...

memo to daylight savings time:

you sure kicked my ass today.

memo to cute boy who works at aroma

you are so freaking cute!

you may have caught us, giggling from the other side of the kitchen door. but, oh, you were being such a tease. walking back and forth. back and forth. cleaning coffee urns. dropping things and bending over to pick them up. forcing us to play the 'boxer or briefs?' game. (do tell, since we couldn't discern...)

your hunky young boy-man muscles look so tantalizing beneath your black t-shirt sleeves. the way the hem hangs just so at your waist, sometimes getting a little caught up in the belt. the belt that holds your jeans up, just above your charming derriere.

we're trying to guess your name, coffee boy. are you a steve? maybe a kyle? we try to picture you without those black-rimmed spectacles. you're so alternative! we also indulge in a game called "if this were my house you would serve me that slice of cake, topless."

didn't you say: "it's sunday, treat yourself"? serve me up a plate of you, then! hold the fork. i'll eat that dish without utensils. yum!

boy, you are f-o-x-y!

you bet we'll be back. and how!

clouds are rolling in...

looks like rain. ah, well, i don't mind.

good news, however, that fish has decided to not throw in the towel on her blog. no one wants to have to censor themselves. i don't. hey, i won't!

and so we rock on...

i think i will work on some stories for posting next week. i'm feeling distinctly unfunny and unliterary these days. not good feelings for a writer/improvisor. but, hey, we can't be on fire everyday. and if you are, well, your local drugstore has a discreet little cream for that problem.

isn't it ironic: "hot child in the city" playing in the background

i wish i had some intense fun to look forward to, but, sadly, it's mostly mild fun. carnal peaks re-opens tonight at the acme with a new cast, including beloved gal-pals fuzzeranne and alison. i am dragging ashley along with me, so it should be a nice night out. work all weekend. sigh. yeah. wahoo. no cocktailing in nightspots. no couch-snuggling with a sweetie. (v.d.b., why do you have to be in s.f.?) oh, i know: poor punkin. boo hoo. it's okay, i should really do my reading for school: canterbury tales (in middle english, no less, kids) and henry v.

now doesn't that sound like fun? (sly grin.)

have realized since yesterday that "fallout" is mostly perception. i decided last night to cast off the boots and just go ahead and bulldoze the debris out of my path. i'm responsible for my feelings, and i can't let other less-evolved people dictate my mood, my life, my rationality. i refuse to give them the satisfaction! those sort of folks won't find that kind of satisfaction here.

she's a sassy one:

i think i'm thumbing my nose a little bit! maybe sticking out my tongue! wearing that smirk that signals, hey, i usually have the last word...

immaturity indulgent?

oh, lighten up! i'm a lover not a fighter! everyone knows that... sheesh!

late night friday five. because we all need a little tradition in our lives.

1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life?
lucky thirteen

2. Which was your favorite and why?
that's a tough call. as a child i really liked a house on glenarden in toronto, but by the end, not so much, as it was the last house my parents lived in together. i didn't like the space necessarily of my apartment in manhattan, but living in nyc was a great experience. i had the most beautiful apartment in the hollywood hills a few years ago, but was too young to appreciate it, and miss it dearly. i actually like my space now, but it's still not the best spot.

3. Do you find moving house more exciting or stressful? Why?
very very very very very very stressful.

4. What's more important, location or price?
well, they say real estate is all about location, location, location. but since i've yet to deal in real estate, and have only done modest budget rental style, i suppose it boils down to economics, with location being a bonus.

5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)?
enough room for me, my books, my various junk. decent sized closets. a bathtub. lots of windows. something garden-y to look at. pool would be nice. i think something either crafstman or mediterranean, up on some hill in hollywood. old-school los angeles. not too big, and not all this stucco and plaster stuff i've been dealing with. hardwood floors, perhaps? some spanish tile? social kitchen. a house with character. and have it be filled with love. awwww... sappy but true.

shhh... don't tell...

guess what?

what?

i don't have any secrets about myself. i am an open book...

tragic to some, gratifying to others.

twentyseven candles

my best friend laurie has always said: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

from one strong woman to another: happy birthday, girl!

when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when i'm feeling sad...

a coping mechanism popularized skillfully in song.

these are a few of my favorite things:

half and half in my coffee
unexpected gifts or letters
nana's shortbread cookies
manicures
singing along to favorite songs
white tulips
my silver cigarette case
'absolutely fabulous' marathons
late night girl talks
handmade jewelry
nicknames
cmm underglaze #87, candy apple red
massages
powell's books in portland, oregon
winning on ebay
peppermint mochas
bing crosby's christmas music
"gypsy", starring rosalind russell or ethel merman
celebrating someone's birthday
cable cars
ontario science centre
barnes and noble gift cards
coffee with ashley at aroma
inflatable betty
carnal peaks
chocolate covered cranberries
good red wine
summer nights at the hollywood bowl
finding money in pocket or purse
the empress hotel, victoria, b.c.
cuddling
sale on dkny thong underwear
a song you haven't heard in ages
dancing
getting a's on papers
discovering you have things in common with someone
hot showers
hotel rooms
selling a piece of ceramic i painted
teaching
'a tree grows in brooklyn' by betty smith
questionnaires
coleslaw
laughter... and more laughter
rain
the air in l.a. the day after it rains
my friends
my family
powerpuff girls
rose gardens
magazine subscriptions
the grounds zero hollywood days
imdb.com
my amazon wish list
new york city, 1994
my cats, past and present
stevie nicks
laura ingalls wilder trivia
being recognized
cadbury creme eggs
having read the books that get made into movies
good photography
yoga
toronto on foot and via ttc
sushi mac, sherman oaks
bubble gum
improv

i simply remember my favorite things, and then i don't feel so bad...

punkin is a cyberkitty

which sometimes leads to fallout. which i can live with. no more will be said on the matter.

school started yesterday. it was a series of surprises and disappointments. a microcosm for life, if you will. i was looking forward to my class with the hunky professor, only to discover his ladyfriend was joining him in the classroom for the evening. so he's taken. end of seduction scene. cut, and print. better yet, edit and leave on floor. i was like that girl who goes to the state fair, and all she wants is a balloon. a big, pink, shiny balloon, tied to her wrist on a string. and then some mean person comes up and rams the balloon with a needle. pop! the balloon has burst. and the girl just stands there, a little stunned, a little angry, and a little sad.

i sort of have the same feelings for blogger this morning. where, oh, where, have my comments gone? and my referrals? and my blogroll? is this the cursed template problem so many people have experienced? this is rather frustrating. (bangs head against wall, ouch!)

pause in entry due to arrival of email in mailbox from v.d.b.

not a bad email, however, readers, you may note a change in my tone. this might well be the cherry on the cake of my day.

note to self: stop putting all your eggs in one basket.

this is not the day off i had envisioned. fallout is rampant, comes from many sources, and requires me to wear unattractive protective boots in order to properly wade through it. just build me a raft. let me sail out.

this cyberkitty needs to g-o.

the maze of hallways and the ease of waking navigation

in those eerie, hazy hours of dawn's early light this morning, i had a very difficult dream. not quite a nightmare, but the kind of dream that makes your heart pound, and when you open your eyes you have to perform a reality check to assure yourself it wasn't real.

in my dream i had to attend some sort of remedial class. not for a school-related deviance, but something societal, like for having too many parking tickets, or some minor offense of the like. the class, however, was taking place in some school building, though not my own school. i walked into the classroom during some break in the program. people were grouped up, chatting about this and that.

then i saw him. the evil one. he was regaling a small cluster of folks, listenting intently to him tell some story, probably about game shows. (this part signalled that it was really a dream; my dork of an ex is socially inept, and regales very few people with anything of interest). i took an open seat next to a blonde who looked a bit too much like a former coworker of mine. she was listening with intent to this boisterous girl who was talking to her. the gal was dressed in an extreme style, with wacky hair buns popping out the side of her head, and odd color matches in her clothing. sort of bjork-like, minus the swan and the accent. i was in such close proximity, i couldn't help but hear her. she was talking about this guy in the class, who was so happy these days. he was in this fantastic relationship, and she'd never known him to be more headed in the right direction. this great woman he was dating lived in new york, and he was about to head out there to decide if he should move there, or if she should move to l.a., but they were also taking a trip to hawaii together.

and then i realized they meant him. the evil one. my ex.

i scraped that chair back so hard and so loud. i felt the tears sting my eyes. i had to get out of there!

i went up to the instructor, and by this time i was trying to choke back sobs.

"this is going to sound ridiculous," i began, "but i can't be in the same room as someone here. he broke my heart, and i just can't stay for the afternoon session, may i please be excused?"

"that's not really a reasonable excuse. you can certainly deal with this as a mature person, and accept the fact that sometimes we do things we don't like to do. i'm sorry, but i can't excuse you," the instructor told me. i was trying to have her hug me, i was so lost and sad and desperate.

we all know she was right. there's an immature way, and a mature way.

but i also knew there was no way in hell i could be around him. so happy, new york, hawaii, blah blah blah.

so i ran. i booked it on outta there. i climbed the steps and passed right by him, the same old familliar in a grey t-shirt and jeans.

i got just a little ways out, when i realized how foolish i was being. why should i run away? that wasn't like me!

and then i just wanted to hug him. i didn't want to talk, mind you; i had nothing to say. i just needed his arms around me like nobody's business. like it would mean things were ok. not that we would be together, but that things were right in our worlds.

so i turned back.

and then i was lost. helplessly, hopelessly lost.

the hallways and stairways were like mazes. didn't i just simply climb some steps and pass through a doorway to leave, not more than a minute ago? shouldn't he be just right over there? but no. hallway led to hallway, led to flights of stairs veering off in every which direction. none of the signs that pointed the way to the room when i first got there were in sight.

the more lost i became, the more desperate i was to see him. no, to hug him. i was determined to get this hug. i had lost all sense of self, of time, of logic.

it was getting ridiculous, there was no end in sight to the maze. what was i doing? why did i want the arms of a lying, mean-spirited, emotionally retarded, hypocritical, cheating, selfish ex boyfriend around me?

my waking self took over. "open your eyes. this is a dream. open your eyes."

my eyes snapped open. a circus of birds were chirping outside my windows. the cat stretched and yawned lazily on the pillow next to me. the illuminated hands of the clock read some ungodly time, like 5:30 a.m.

it was only a dream.

i went back to sleep, and it was uneventful to my recollection. i did a mad dash out the door in order to make it to my first day of the spring quarter on time. the sky is so blue today, and there are dozens of big clouds dotting the sky. there is a sharp contrast against the greenery that lines the crowded freeways i take to get to campus. i popped in my new cat power cd. i had bought a cup of decent coffee at the gas station. i wasn't running late. my thoughts went to a certain boy in san francisco. a very deserving boy.

that is my reality today. it beats my dreams, no contest.

all in all... it's looking to be a lovely day after all.

punkin is looking left because something caught her attention

spent last night in the company of two very fine people, in the most cozy and charming l.a. living space i've seen in a while. as a result, may i present a tuesday morning inventory of what i now have:

*two new necklaces (one i made) and a pair of earrings.
*copies of cat power and wilco cd's
*interesting info about interesting people (jaws were dropped and eyes were widened)
*an appreciation for flaming alcohol and bananas foster
*an urge to visit new orleans
*a series of notes on the back of a receipt: "it's like the 7 dwarfs", "are you a lesbian? not anymore", "you sure would", "how many people in the world are in their right mind?", "you said it snows up in those hills there? do they have to shovel out the road?" and an illustration of a woman with some unforgiveable eyebrows.
*left my cellphone in someone's car (easily retrieved!)
*a slight hangover

punkin is launched into the wild blue yonder

the gift was well-received, apparently, by the v.d.b. just got an email from him that claims it's one of the coolest gifts he's ever received, and that i rock. and kick ass. well, yes, we can't deny those facts! so now, i suppose, that pesky ball is back in my court. my problem is, i complain about the ball always being in the other person's court. then they hand me the ball, and instead of dribbling, spinning, running about with it for a while, i usually just shoot it on back to them. this habit has to be broken! so, gang, i've got the ball, and tempted as i am to volley that sucker right back over the net, i'm going to hang on to it. i'm going to lay low. i'm going to let myself be chased.

that's chased, not chaste. i haven't lost my mind entirely!