snack-sized bites for a windy friday (and apologies to my mom, or anyone else who might object to references to my boyfriend's naked body and my enjoyment of it)

• last week went by like a blur to me because i was hostessing the lovely and amazing ashley for a long-weekend birthday visit and most of the time was spent either covering our mouths and giggling like schoolgirls or deciding where our next meal was coming from. it was such a wonderful few days, and i felt like i'd been picked up by the shoulder seams of my favorite t-shirt (currently the one that depicts the saga of "nothing rhymes with orange") and dropped onto a great wide prairie of smiles and lattes and indulgent desserts. of course, that also meant that having to go back to work on monday (yes, on presidents' day, because clearly, my university is run by fascists) (just kidding, university! i love my job! i love that instead we opt to celebrate cesar chavez day and don't care that it falls on a friday when no one is on campus anyhow, but, whatever, i totally dig the chicano movement!) was extra-super-yucky hard. i definitely sat around last sunday night feeling like a balloon that had slowly had its air let out. wahh-wahhh...



• anyhow, it's nearing the end of the academic quarter in my little world, which means i'm getting relieved to be reminded that the end is in sight, and also a little soft around the edges of my heart because, as always, i totally adore my students and will miss them when all is said and done. apparently i'm "an inspiration" to many, and also "too nice," which, all things considered, i don't mind being either.



• how goldanged hilarious is the sarah silverman program on comedy central? if you haven't seen it, you're invited to my living room, where our dvr has all the episodes so far coded "k" for keep, because they're that good. i think i'm finally over the fact that she stole jimmy kimmel from me, and i love her even more because she sings inane songs about poo and has one of those wickedly evil comic genius brains that i envy like my neighbor's ceaselessly green grass on the other side of that there fence. funny. insanely funny. (oh, and shameless plug for LAist: as linked on the Sarah Silverman News blog, here's the LAist interview with her sister, laura. which i didn't do, but in the spirit of group blogging, heartily endorse.)



• i'm intensely loving the shins' new album wincing the night away. it's most excellent for car rides tinged with introspection and drumming a bit on the steering wheel.



• i had this really amazing talk with the darling boy yesterday about writing, and while i'll admit since it was predominantly conducted while i had my face nuzzled on the just-washed sweetness of his bare chest (too much? sorry mom) and thereby somewhat hazy in my memory, i know that what's the omnipresent issue is that i need to devote more time to my writing, and to not put expectations on myself, and that this goes for all forms and kinds and destinations for my writing. lately--well, okay, since i punched in the last period-end-of-sentence mark on my damned thesis last spring--i haven't felt very writerly, and i haven't been allowing myself to write or be a writer in any sort of fullness, and it's left me with like a little hole in my soul. right now i'm dealing with words and bits of phrases, and i feel like i'm just about ready to get back to it again. it's also tremendously reassuring and cause for me to adore the darling boy even more to know that he really gets me--particularly this aspect of me and my life--and pitches in with the most amazingly spot-on words of wisdom.



• oh, and speaking of... because of work and schedules and miss ashley's arrival my valentine's day celebration was more like an extended celebration that began when i launched into operation make valentine's day cookies the day before and when i finally got my belated v-day prezzy from my darling boy yesterday (the most enormous bouquet of flowers i've ever been given without first having to earn a college degree as cause for celebration) that was as pink as promised. all in all it was a very good one this year.



• tomorrow i start college! i'm so excited. i got my letter of acceptance last week! wait, what? you ask. but i thought... okay, okay, i'm kind of kidding. because i have one of those active minds and that annoying thirst for knowledge and skills and bettering myself, i went and enrolled at a local community college so that i could take a class in conversational japanese. ("konichiwa, motherfuckers!" said the darling boy.) but they cancelled the class. ("sayonara, motherfuckers!" said i.) so, instead i enrolled in a ceramics class. (which, btw, apparently comes out sounding like "semantics" when you're telling your darling boy about it in the shower. again, too much? sorry, mom.) so i will be learning to pound and mold and turn clay for the next several saturdays. i still want to learn japanese, and also italian, and spanish. oh, and jewelry making. and, like, lots of other things. i love learning! what a dork.



• man, how much do i hate folding and putting away laundry? or, like any housework in general, except maybe using my pledge grab-it cloths to dust or those awesome mr. clean magic erasers to, well, magically erase things from surfaces? i suppose this is just one reason why i've never billed myself as housewife material or domestic goddess. although, i do offer the bonus traits of loving to cook, having a keen sense of aesthetics for home decor, and never turning down sex (ack, sorry, again!). but since i'm not hawking my own wares at this time, i wouldn't mind just having someone come by to deal with the three giant piles of laundry i just laundered. anyone? we can watch sarah silverman? i'll bake cookies? anyone, anyone?
  

hangin' with lucy & ethel

when our fantabulous directtv satellite cable-dealio swung into action in the fall i noticed that as part of our service we had a staggering number of xm satellite radio stations at our disposal via the television. but the staggering number of stations was so overwhelming that in order to preserve some shred of sanity i tried hard to pretend they didn't exist, because in my little head all those choices are dizzying, and i do my darndest to avoid dizzyfying myself on any given day. but, in my post-sinus infection recovery bed this weekend i strayed to the dark side and discovered, first, that i loved ethel, and then that i really loved lucy. lucy & ethel, are, of course, the names of just two of xm's awesome alternative stations; ethel has some of today's edgier alterna hits mixed with 90s classics in the genre, but lucy is all quintessential 90s alternative. basically it's me, ages 16-22, and to say that those were my self-proclaimed salad days would be to say the least.

so it struck me rather profoundly this weekend just how powerfully influential music has been in my life. suddenly i was thrown back in time to the passenger seat of laurie's car, driving through the witching hours of the night on meandering southern californian freeways, arguing over which cd in her (enviably larger than my) collection would be the next to put in the player--bush? live? pearl jam? depeche mode? they might be giants? then it was the omnipresent sound of local superpower station kroq coming from my low-quality boom box speakers, while i waited for the cue to dial in to win tickets to some mega-concert or to request a song. sometimes i would stay up past any imaginable bedtime, fingers numb from pressing the play and record buttons on my dual cassette player, furiously dubbing from one side to the other, compiling another mixed tape to preserve my feelings at that very moment in time--dub in some cranberries, nirvana, weezer, sarah mclachlan, and the ever-represented 10,000 maniacs. the songs were with me in my first car--that wretched honda accord i plastered with heart-shaped hole stickers and that forever had a box of tapes at hand so that i could scoop up some alanis morrissette or garbage and pop it in the tape deck with my right hand, while never losing grip of that marlboro red in my left. hearing smashing pumpkins' "drown" the other night took me back to what i remember as one of my earliest and most profound depressive slumps, as i recalled feeling so terribly adrift, uncertain, and swirling in my basement room at my parents' house: "i wish, i wish i could fly."

but i love that song. i love all these songs--some forgotten--because they are part of the fabric of my spirit, and tell the stories of my experiences. they are the anger, the frustration, the exuberance, the romance, the lust, the betrayal, the loneliness of my youth. each one is a piece of my memory, with a story that clings to its notes and chords. these songs are like the friends and loved ones they remind me of. they're all those car rides with laurie and our cramped new york apartment. they're getting gussied up for an outing to see the rocky horror picture show, or staying up all night to watch videos on mtv. they're solitary nights by candlelight in my first apartment, as i wrote out my fears and hopes in my journal and sang softly along. they're the giddy delight of the discovery of new friends, or the power of suggestion from a new lover. liz phair is stolen moments with the darling boy, once upon a time. depeche mode and oasis a tempestuous old roommate. nine inch nails is the anger, emerging at full volume.

this weekend, at least twice that silly satellite stream played songs i never thought existed outside my own stereos, like hum's one-hit wonder "stars" and the judybats' "being simple." i heard them, and, ridiculous as it may seem, i felt tears well up in my eyes. it was as if the outside world was confirming the validity of my existence; granted this is an extreme assessment, but still... it was to me as though the universe was putting its arms around me and saying: "take comfort, you're where you belong."

last night, as i drove home--in my delightful prius and not that wretched honda--i reached over with my right hand--not to pluck a dusty cassette from a jumbled box, but to spin the dial on my miraculous little ipod; who would have ever guessed in the days of pagers and 5600 bps dial-up that the 7,300-plus songs in my music collection would fit in the palm of my hand? i found my latest favorite playlist, aptly titled "lucy & ethel" and took immense satisfaction that my formative years of making mixed tapes translate so well to a present of compiling digital playlists. i found a rediscovered favorite: "100 ways" by porno for pyros.

"I thought about you every day
I hear the rain comin' in from miles away
The air is as clean as your skin next to my face
Thought about you every day

100 ways
I thought about you and me a hundred ways
100 ways

And now I lay awake and dream you're right above my face
Look into my eyes the way you do, don't look away
Thought about you every day
Birds build their homes here right above my head
They make the same kind of sounds you do
When we're laying in my bed

100 ways
I thought about you and me a hundred ways
100 ways

And if I had my way, when I woke up, in the morning
I would read and write, before I ever drew the shades
I would kiss you, before you opened up your eyes"

i smiled, and shook my head.

these songs still tell my stories.

making it a habit

popular wisdom dictates that it takes twenty-one consecutive days to make something a habit. (reverse logic holds as well that it takes twenty-one consecutive days to break a habit.) so, armed with this philosophy, a lot of drive, and my gym membership card, i've set out recently to make getting at least 30 minutes a day of physical activity a habit. i give myself a little nudge room on the two days a week i'm on my campus and count them as light days that involve walking to and fro class, the office, and parking; i don't count sheet wrestling with a certain darling someone; and in case i'm not feeling gym-ish, i have back up pilates (pronounced "pie-lates" in my household, jsyk) and yoga dvds and shows on dvr. the results: well, for one thing, i feel freakin' fantastic. i have more energy on the whole, and doing some form of exercise is no longer feeling like a chore, but rather a means to a better sense of self and well-being. my drug of preference is to do laps in the pool at my gym; breaststroke one way and backstroke going back. i follow that up with a bastardized stretching mini-ballet set of moves that have been, on one recent occasion, copied by a lovely asian grandmotherly type along with praise for my mad swimming skills. i'll gladly take the kudos, but i'll more gladly take the habit. today's day 18, and i've just got back from a 30 minute stint on the elliptical, and despite what feels like a wee sinus infection, i feel pretty darn great. this week i'll hit my twenty-one day mark, and i've decided that as a reward i'll book myself a massage at a favorite spa. and i'll keep going to the gym. i mean, hello--it's not a bad habit to have!

here's my latest 30-minute "hipster workout" ipod playlist:

1. "australia" (the shins)
2. "everythings just wonderful" (lily allen)
3. "come back (light therapy)" (josh rouse)
4. "ooh la la" (goldfrapp)
5. "ghost of york" (as tall as lions)
6. "something in you" (orange peels)
7. "i don't feel like dancin'" (scissor sisters)
8. "all the miles" (amy millan)

beware the phony "girl next door"

apparently someone doesn't like me, and is using some sort of "online dating" narc site to advertise said dislike about me. there's a survey that's been filled out, although since they actually didn't meet me, they can only say that i'm either a "good" emailer or so bad they'd rather just delete my emails instantly. apparently, i initiated contact, but they ended it. what's interesting about all this, is that i can't think of a single person that fits this bill. when last i dipped my toe in the murky waters of online dating it was a couple of years ago, and as a rule, i never initiated contact. nary a once. not a wink, not a flirt, and most certainly not an email--and this is key--because i never paid a membership fee and therefore was never permitted access to do so. so, someone doesn't like me, and someone is lying. here's what they say about me:

Don't link her site or try and talk to you. She hunts you down and will not let it go. She can only handle her microscopic online "friend" community.

2-February-2007, 6:59PM

this is particularly funny because the first sentence doesn't make sense grammatically, and seems more about my blog than a dating situation. okay, don't link to my blog. i don't ask anyone to, frankly. then, i'm a huntress, and i hunt people down. i don't believe i've ever "hunted" anyone in my life, and i can't be all that good at it, since i've never met this person and therefore obviously didn't succeed in finding them. the last part is the gem of this review, imho. what's hilarious about the "microscopic online friend community" is that I DON'T HAVE AN ONLINE FRIEND COMMUNITY. i'm not on myspace, i don't hang out with bloggers except when LAist has a drinks night, and none of my close friends are avid bloggers. once upon a time several years ago i met up with some bloggers...in new york city, and a couple of years back met some locally, but do i consider those lovely folks my friends? uh, no. yesterday was the first time in weeks i'd even bothered to sign on to aim, but didn't even talk to anyone. so, sour grapes, i know not of what you speak.

She portrays herself as wholesome and the "girl next door." Be careful what you tell her (including personal information) in case things do not work out between you!

1-February-2007, 2:20PM

again, hilarious on the whole considering this is someone i allegedly didn't meet. one thing i can tell you is that i've never billed myself as either "wholesome" or "the girl next door." i mean, for crying out loud, parts of this blog were published in a sex book. i'm not sure to what personal information this poor unfortunate soul is referring... i stopped telling dating anectodes quite some time ago, but, again... only about people i actually met.

Do not critisize her at all, or she will come after you (online) with all of her blogger friends!

2-February-2007, 6:51PM

that's right. me and my mom and the other 23 people who read this site will form a posse and NAIL YOUR ASS. lookit that--i've already started.

in summation: smacks of slander, and some sort of malicious plan to "get me." but why, i wonder? what have i done? sounds a lot like an old blogger whose site i used to link to a few years ago's ex-boyfriend who launched this massive online campaign against a number of the people she used to link to, myself included. he was the reason why i took off the comments feature, actually. well, internet friends (yes, you, my dear, beloved, bosom-buddied online community members, upon whom the entire foundation of my existence rests) looks like he--or someone like him--is at it again. be on the ready, in case i call you to rally up and start the rumble.

BWAHAHAHAHA!

oh, but, p.s.: welcome to all you new readers who came from the links on the online dating narc site! my stats might actually break 40 hits a day now. smells like the big time. anyhow, i hope i lived up to your expectations of my maniacal and predatory ways. feel free to drop me a line or something and introduce yourselves. you know i'm always looking for new friends to add to my microscopic online community!