it wouldn't be friday without five of something...

the filthy five isn't up yet, so instead i've been sitting here, pretending to work, when really i am debating what sort of alternative list of five things i can offer you. five people to be stranded on a deserted island with? nahhhhhh.... five movies i love? who can narrow it down to just five? five of my favorite dipping sauces? hmmm, though ripe with potential, i had to let that one go. so here's what i came up with:

five first kisses

• november 1994: somewhere outside the dorms of columbia university, in the freezing cold, i stood by the entrance steps to the subway with my best friend laurie, and two dudes we'd been hanging out with all night. she'd met the guys through the internet somehow, and we'd gone up to meet them in one of their dorm rooms. (i will readily admit my memory is vague on this whole scenario, perhaps laurie will remember more) i had never been a dater in high school, so i couldn't have been more naive if i'd been trying. i'm sure we spent the evening drinkin spiked kool-aid, and gawd knows what else, and in the dark night we were saying goodbye, a little worse for wear, but i'm sure pleasantly buzzed. (also, i couldn't tell you the guy's name if you paid me to.) so the guy i'm "paired up" with wraps his college boy hands around me, and i find myself in the midst of my first real kissing scene. college boy's hands do a lot more wandering, and suddenly they are somewhere that no man had ever gone before, and i would love to have been able to step outside myself to see the look of shock on my own face. then it was time to go. i can't say that i ever saw or talked to college boy again. but i can say that i've been fingered on the street outside columbia university.
  
  
• october 1995: so i'd had this massive crush on this poet boy for ages. he worked at my local coffehouse, where i was an extreme example of a "regular". poet boy had a live-in girlfriend, but just you try telling my heart that. so on friday nights, when he was the closer, i'd stick around and stay as long as i could. this night i stayed long after the doors were locked, and i was helping out by doing the dishes. poet boy sidled up to me, and i will never as long as i live, forget the conversation we had.
  poet boy: i'm totally on to you, you know.
  punkin: what do you mean?
  poet boy: i know you have a crush on me...
  punkin: oh yeah?
  poet boy: yeah. you're being such a coy girl, flirting with me. of course i noticed. and the thing is... i think we should do something about it.
  punkin: you do?
  poet boy: i can totally picture us, naked, going at it on that couch.
  punkin: ohhhhhkay...
  poet boy: let's finish cleaning, and then how 'bout i give you a foot massage?
  punkin: (melting in to a puddle) ohhhhkay...
  
  so we made our way to the couch. i remember i had to wash my feet first (my call, since i knew what was going on in those mary janes of mine), and that when i sat back down on the couch in the dark i knocked over my bottle of "love potion number 69" soda that i'd been drinking. poet boy began to massage my feet. his 26 year old hands moved up my eighteen year old legs slowly, until he was bent over me, and we were kissing. and, yeah, we went at it on the couch. every friday night after closing for four weeks we hooked up in the coffeeshop. in the backroom, on the couch, on the pool table.
  
  
• november 1998: i was madly in love with a younger boy. i was his boss at our workplace, and we'd bonded into fast friends. i'd lured him out to chez moi to watch some absolutely fabulous, because, after all, what hip gal doesn't love a guy who loves ab fab and isn't gay? we were in the parking garage, when i fumbled and stumbled around the words i was trying to use to tell him that i liked him. "i'm a guy, " he told me. "i'm not good at figuring out these things." but we figured out that we liked each other, and went in for that first kiss. it was awkward, at best. younger boy was a fresh slate, so to speak, an inexperienced lad. "you're going to have to teach me how to do this right," he told me. and that i did. i taught that boy well, i'd say, in the course of our nine month relationship.
  
  
• february 2002: the evil one and i had been sitting knee to knee on his loveseat, in the company of his roomie, for a while. i knew we were getting somewhere when he offered to show me his room, and his collection of video tapes. (odd, how i found that charming, instead of creepy). we slipped into his darkened room, and perched on the bed. the evil one cleared his throat, and began what was to be the first of over a year's worth of vague and uncomfortable speeches designed to protect himself from experiencing genuine emotion. but, this being our first moments alone, i had no idea what i was really getting in to. he didn't want to date, he didn't want to end up in a relationship he'd eventually resent, he didn't want to lead me on... basically it was fuck now or nothing. well, stupid me, i liked this guy a lot. he was cute, and funny, and seemingly smart. so i ignored the red flags, and i made the fatal mistake of telling myself that i would be the one to change him. i told him i wasn't going to have sex with him right now, and that we'd have to see where things were going. we talked for hours, and he asked me "well, do you want to just stay here tonight?" (because i sure couldn't walk the one block home, right?) and we lay down, and like two of the most hesitant magnets our lips pulled together. tentative, slow enough so that i could feel my heart rate drop, and i had time to draw in one sharp, surprised and delighted breath. we kissed for hours, until my lips were raw and achy. he had to be up in a matter of minutes to work at the radio station--we didn't get a wink of sleep. he drove me the one block home in the bleary early morning hours. it was such a sweet first encounter...looking back i know i should have taken him at his word, and spared myself a year of agony. but that kiss encapsulates the passion that was the hallmark of our relationship. "we're like magnets" i told him time and time again; drawn to each other, fitting together perfectly. too bad he became the evil one!
  
  
• march 2003: we had been taking turns playing cds for hours now. we'd polished off a bottle of two buck chuck, and smoked our fair share of cigarettes. i'd moved from the floor to the couch where he was. the backrub he'd begun early in the evening had never really ended; his fingers had not left my hair, my neck, my arms since the first touch. it was late, but that didn't matter. we got up, to change the cd, to stretch, to have a drink of water. he strectched out on my bed. "no more couch?" i asked. "it's more comfortable for two of us on the bed" he said, and i joined him. i hadn't felt this calm in a long time. i had shivers running up and down my spine from when he gently played with my hair, or tickled my fingertips. i'd been laughing all night as we told each other stories from every category of life.
  "well, i can't sleep, i'm too wide awake!" i said.
  "hmmm, what can we do?" he said.
  "hmmm, i dunno," i said.
  "wanna make out?" he said.
  i'll say no more...

it's about time someone(s) fessed up:

i no longer need to stalk myself, since someone is doing it for me.

four times in two days now this site has been found and read in depth by folks googling my real* name.

i know some techinical facts about you (like who your isp is, and what kind of computer and operating system you're using), and apparently now you know a heck of a lot about me.

i have some theories as to who you (two) are.

it's time to 'fess up or cut it out.

*'real' in the sense that while it is not my legal name, it is the name i use as much as possible, particularly professionally. which rules out the suggestion that my googler is an old schoolmate, etc. since they wouldn't know me by this name.

despite the fact that i dropped my html book in my mr.bubble bubble bath the other night...
and other recent mishaps:


the indefatigable* punkin is a force that will not stop!

as i sit here at my desk, thankfully drinking down my second cup of coffee, i have realized i have many things to be very happy about. to qualify, i offer:



• late night instant messaging with a new and interesting friend last night
  
• last night in class a classmate told me the professor had been incredibly disappointed with our last papers, and most people flunked. mine came back to me with an 'a', and comments that included "excellent. your writing is the best in the class so far."
  
• writing my (s)cary date story yesterday made me feel like a real storyteller
  
• your comments yesterday rocked my world
  
• continually getting comments from new and lovely people, which rocks my world
  
• the sweetest, most fabulous handwritten pink note that i got yesterday that now resides on the wall in front of me
  
• enjoying i.b.c. rootbeer and microwave popcorn with beloved housemates last night, and making plans for the p-a-r-t-y we're having next month!!!!
  
• knowing that i can make ashley laugh out loud just by calling her "slimbag"
  
• *remembering that when i was profiled in my high school paper ten years ago the character i was playing in the skin of our teeth was referred to as indefatigable
  
• planning my move to san francisco, and getting ready to apply to grad schools up there to get my ma or mfa in creative writing
  
• in two weeks i will be in san francisco, spending time with one amazing and very deserving boy

file under misc.

it would be a whopping understatement to say my heart's not in it right now.

i've been up for about 45 minutes today, and i've spent the last 43 of them sobbing, thanks to an email i received from someone i respect as a person, and in the position they hold in a group i belong to. i had hesitated for months to bring some issues regarding the group, and my involvement in it up to them, for fear i'd be misinterpreted, or that this person was already overwhelmed. believe me, there's no consolation in discovering i was right in both cases.

i have never mastered the fine art of 'saying nothing'; instead i am compelled to respond to everything that is said to me.

i'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere.

however, i can't see it right now, because my eyes are foggy from crying, and i haven't even had my first cup of coffee.

the story of (s)cary date: punkin finds herself in a sticky situation

a parable of love sex in the electronic age

i have never been one to shy away from internet dating. i am not ashamed to admit that in the past i have used a number of online dating services to meet "eligible" bachelors. in fact, it is via such services that i met and dated both the evil one, and the difficult one.

being an active online dater takes work. it takes a lot of time and effort, in all sincerity. there's the game of logging on to your own profile to see who's viewed it, and to make sure everyone knows you've been 'active' in the last x-amount of hours or days. there's the lists of what you like, and what you want. then, when you start to get inquiries, it becomes a matter of weeding out the weak from the mighty. then there's the emailing back and forth. lengthy explanations of who you are and what you are all about. some witty banter, perhaps. relevant questions and answers. and so on.

my first internet dating experiences go back to when i lived in new york in 1994. through the miracle of prodigy chat i found myself meeting all sorts of...characters. what can i say, i was 17! two years ago, when i had no job, and some time to kill before the school year started, i was the self-proclaimed queen of online dating. dozens of replies came in to my inbox daily. some were short and obscene, some so off-base that i had to laugh, and a slim margin had potential. it was a juggling act; i actually had to keep an index card file. i had never been so popular! i had dinner-and-a-movie dates out the wazoo, so to speak.

so when the evil one and i went on another one of our 'breaks' last fall, i went back to the old reliable, and signed up on match.com. i was a little more skeptical at this point, but somewhat buoyed by the successful matchup of my dear friend judy and the now love of her life.

i had received an incredibly intelligent, flattering and intriguing email from a man named cary. he seemed to be a pretty together guy--early thirties, a lawyer, with a cute photo of himself posted. i threw caution to the wind and gave him my number. my cellphone rang almost immediately. we chatted for a long while, and the longer we talked, the more i thought i was right on the money. this guy seemed great! so when he suggested we meet up later that evening, i agreed. (besides, i was bound and determined to force myself to be over the evil one, which didn't really happen until a couple of months ago.)

now i'm a savvy dater. i get the digits, and make sure a couple of gal pals know exactly where i'm going to be in case of an emergency. i don't let strangers know my address, or have them pick me up in their car. i'm a meet-in-a-public-place kind of gal. hey, it's los angeles in the 21st century, i'm no fool. so i agreed to meet cary in the park near his apartment in the shi-shi wilshire area.

from the moment we met face to face i knew that this was not going to go well.

his cologne greeted me before he did, and my eyes were drawn to his gold chains and his exposed hairy chest. no handshake for this man--no, he was moving in for the bear hug immediately. but, now, i am a fair person, so i decided to give him a chance. so, he didn't look much like his photo. photos can be deceiving! after all, i couldn't just bolt after thirty seconds!

we sat down in the park, and made some very small talk. i think it was about eight minutes in to things when i realized he was staring at me with love/lust in his eyes. "what are you thinking?" i asked, hiding my amusement.

he moved in for a kiss.

he was denied.

this was getting fun! i had gone from being around the evil one, who expressed little or no interest in me, to being around this funny little hairy smelly man, who seemed absolutely enchanted. oh, yes... he was complimenting my hair, my clothes, my eyes, my lips. he was making the moves in olympic record time. it was like when you drive past an accident on the highway; it's so hideous that you just have to stare. this man and this rendezvous had the same grotesque intrigue.

being that it was so ridiculously early in our encounter, i knew i just couldn't terminate it then and there. "oops, i forgot i had to do __________" just wouldn't fly. it was like, nine o'clock on a sunday night, anyhow. he was suggesting options. we could go out to dinner. we could order in food to his apartment. i knew i would sooner eat my own arm than dine out with him. but, if i opted for the apartment, i could kill some time until i could make a better exit. so we headed up to his bachelor pad.

i'll admit, he had a nice view. it would have been more enjoyable had he not suctioned himself behind me, and attempted to maul me seductively in the window area. i'm sure i scolded him, and peeled him off me with something like "not so fast, ok?" i'm not a total heartbreaker! but a girl can only stand to feel that hard-on poking her backside through a guy's pants for so long. and i was getting near and nearer to saying "so long".

cary's idea of a romantic setting was to turn on the tv. the practice was on, and when he asked, i told him quite adamantly, "no, i don't watch this show. i don't know anything about it." i perched on the edge of the couch. he draped himself in what i can only imagine he thought was a sexy position to my left. was this his idea of proper seduction?

and closer to me he crept. his hand wandered to my leg, and with a masterful move he flipped himself over so that he was hovering over me. he started to go to town on my breasts, and i'll admit, i'm a bit of a sucker for that. so i let him play. not more than a minute or so later i realized he'd worked a free hand down to his fly, and was extracting himself.

oh, he wanted me to touch him... he wanted to kiss my lips, my ears... he suggested we go to the bedroom. he suggested i do all sorts of things that there was no way in hell i would do to him. i didn't have more than a few moments to dodge his advancements, when...

"uuuuuuhhhhhh!" he shuddered, and stood upright..

"wow," he said, surveying the damage. "i just came on my couch."

i sat right up and made sure none had landed on me. thank god, i was clear.

what can one possibly say in reply to that?

"i'm gonna change," he said, bounding happily into his bedroom. "don't you move!"

i took the opportunity to gather my purse, and put on my coat.

cary re-emerged, having freshly donned some really attractive (note sarcasm) sweat pants.

"i have to go, actually, " i told him. "it's later than i thought, and i have to work early..."

he walked me to the door, and sent me off with a faint hug, and asked me that i'd promise to call him when i got home, so he would know i was safe and sound. how was it possible that he could think that this date had gone well?

"ok, sure," i told him.

i made two calls in the car on the ride home. one to the evil one--because this (s)cary date was sure to make him both laugh and feel jealous (it did, on both counts), and one to beloved carrie, whose house was on my way home, and who was happy to make some tea and smoke some cigarettes and hear my story.

i never talked to (s)cary again. because, really, folks, when you come on the couch a half hour in to the first date... what kind of future is there?

*my thanks to appleshell for her kidding about dating stories in my comments the other day. ask and you shall receive, my dear!*

my nana can drink your grandma under the table

i am the first (and only) daughter of a firstborn daughter, born to a firstborn daughter. that's some powerful lineage there. it really dawned on me yesterday that i couldn't be more proud to come from my mother and her mother, my nana. these women are the funniest, dearest, brightest, most energetic, supportive and engaging gals i can imagine. and i thank my lucky stars they are part of my genetic composition.

i had a lengthy phone conversation with my nana yesterday; neither one of us are shy in the words department, so we tend to have some serious gabfests. she filled me in on her recent trip to reno, nevada, on a bus with a handful of friends, all the way down from vancouver, b.c. now my nana is one fussy dame. she likes it the way she likes it, and there isn't much room for alteration. so we were worried about this trip. nana's really become her own force of a woman in the 7 or so years its been since my grandpa died. she's taken up bowling, and yoga, too. she's bought her own house, and she's handled all the woes that go with it. but damn if she didn't have the time of her life down reno way! come to find out the hype of the bowling conference made her "feel like an olympic athlete". and that at night they would "party in one of the girls' rooms." party? party? she sounds just like anyone i know who goes to a hotel en masse.

"can you say that again, nana?" i asked.

"well, we partied in one of the girls rooms everynight."

"what does that mean?" i ask. i am picturing sex, drugs, rock and roll here. not pretty.

"we had drinks, you know! although, all those women drink vodka. i was the only one who had scotch." i hear the telltale tinkle tinkle of an ice cube in a glass from her end of the phone. yeah, it's right before dinner time. nana and her scotch... she continues: "now, mind you, i was the oldest one in the group, at 73! but i can walk faster than so-and-so. and i can drink any of them under the table!"

"nana, " i laughed, "you can drink me under the table."

"you're right, i can. not that i'm proud of that..."

and so we chatted. i caught her up on my comings and goings. she hooted with joy when i said i was looking to move northward, out of los angeles. she couldn't be happier for all my achievements and ambitions. she can't wait to walk into a bookstore and see my bestselling novel on display and say "that's my eldest granddaughter." and with some smug satisfaction i listened to her tell me that i was the only grandchild for whom she bought a gift while she was in reno. (i had asked for a starbucks city mug for my collection, wahooo!) she also was filled with a swear-word inducing rage when she found out that my dad (her ex son in law) was doing diddly squat to help his only child out with her education. that woman totally has my back. and, god, do i love her.

and now, my mamacita...

"you know that we will love and support you no matter what you do," my mom reminded me the other day.

for that, i am the luckiest kid in the world.

in other news: north hollywood's dumbest criminal

i just found out that there was a robbery overnight at my work. someone broke the deadbolt on one of the side doors, went in to the studio, and smashed open the register.

i couldn't help but laugh hysterically.

"so, um, what?" i said to ashley. "they made off with like, $7 in change?"

we're no fools. we don't keep the cash in the register. besides, this thief certainly hadn't spent the day casing the joint, otherwise they would have known that there had been NO customers in there all day. no customers equals no money.

nice work, buddy. maybe you can use those quarters for some laundry.

why i love ashley, chapter 74:

in the toy aisles at tower records last night...

me: (snaps a box off the shelf) oh, ash. this is it. this is what i'm getting you for christmas. i don't want to show you, it might ruin the surprise...

ashley: let me see!

(i hand her the box. it is a large army man action figure. there is writing all over the box. we turn it over and over in our hands.)

ashley: what's his name?

me: i don't know, umm...let's see...(reads box)

ashley: (reading) "push my button, you slimbag!"

me: ummmm, ashley. that's slimebag

ashley lets out a shrieking, gasping peal of laughter. she doubles over, right there in the aisle. i can barely see, because i'm tearing up already. i have to walk an aisle down to keep from howling. when i come back to her she turns to look at me, still bent over, her face bright red.

ashley: i think i'm gonna pee my pants.

and in yet more news...a warm welcome to:

boogie's mom, helenjane, peppermint tina, wetnurse, and ismat.

you are in fine company, gals! welcome to the punkin patch.

whew. now that was a long entry...

um, blogger? what are you doing? i'm scared...

the page looks fine. i just worked on the template yesterday. so, why is it now that the template you show me when i go in to "template" is an old-old-old-old-old one?

me no likee.

not one bit.

sometimes those damn horoscopes are right on the money:

Your Daily Horoscope for May 26, 2003

Dear Punkin,
Stress-related health complaints could force re-evaluation of your current life situation, Punkin, particularly your job. You may wish to consider taking a good long look at your skills, and consider how they can be put to use in other fields. Communications from distant places may bring new opportunities to pursue old ambitions; don't fall into the trap of writing them off immediately. Change is in the wind, and it isn't wise to try to stop it.

...it's no surprise that this comes into my email inbox tonight. i've been out of commission with one whopper of a tooth dilemma. i'm hopped up on vicodin right now, woozy and weary. i'm beat. i'm worn out. i've been feeling those winds of change rustling at my toes for the past week or so. it started with my meltdown monday, when a good old fashioned girl talk with ashley led me to realize i was the only person standing in the way of my own dreams. for years now i've wished i could just get up and go somewhere else, to leave the la la la la land that los angeles is. but "i can't!" is what always came up. i can't because of this, because of that. excuses, excuses. no more.

i want to be a writer. i want to hone my fiction skills with peers who challenge and inspire me. i want to be surrounded by intellect and creativity. i want an environment that is genuine, supportive, and stimulating. not an environment that is about who you know, and what you look like.

i want to love and be loved in return. plain and simple.

so the winds of change are moving up from whispers near the surface to full-on tempests that are lifting me, stirring me, making me look long and hard at the path i'm headed in. for now, i stay put. i am less than a year from getting my bachelor's degree; but i'll be damned if i let myself take the easy way out and just linger at my school, getting a masters' in lit that i don't want. i want to study creative writing, at a good school, with the help and support of peers and teachers that will bring the best out of me. and i know that place isn't here in l.a., where it's all about movie-making. i'm an intellectual in the 'industry' town, and it is making me crazy! i'll be damned if i let myself stay here in this room, in this apartment, in this corner of los angeles, because i think that i "can't" leave.

i'm ready to put my heart a little on the line, in order to get to a place where i can have love. the real deal. i know it's not just up to me, but i've never felt more open to it. i've even made a bargain with the universe...and in hopes that it does me some cosmic good i've completely given up the romantic notion of seducing my professor. (i know this will bring about murmurs of dissent or possibly approval among my loyalists) it just seems like now is the time to keep my feet on the ground, and my eye on reality.

resolve like this can come and go, but for some reason it seems to be sticking. i'm not making any snap decisions, i'm not being rash or destructive. but i am looking out for me, and my dreams, and my ambitions...and my happiness.

what can i say? it's in the stars...

how i spent my tax refund: version a and version b

while somehow i managed to break even on the federal taxes this year, i was awarded this week with a california state tax refund check in the amount of $18.43. with the expression "don't spend it all in one place" ringing in my head, and the opposite notion that just about everything costs twenty bucks, i can share with you two qualifying purchases i made this weekend that can illustrate two ways i spent my loot.

version a: the friday night out

admission to final episode of improv soap opera carnal peaks: $10
coffee with kahlua at restaurant next door afterwards with friends and cast: $7 plus tax and tip
total: $20

version b: cure for the ailing

prescription for generic vicodin (pain relief): $9.99
prescription for antibiotics (infected tooth): $10
total: $19.99

recipie for a less-than-stellar saturday morning

directions: take one 26-year-old redheaded sassy girl. add the following ingredients. put her to bed to nap for at least two hours, or until she appears to be moderately capable of working.

-5 cds burned from songs downloaded overnight off kazaa
-1 cup of black coffee
-1 bowl cranberry crunch cereal
-2 1litre bottles of arrowhead water
-2 rerun episodes of mtv's surf girls
-1 newly arrived dvd set of sex and the city: season four
-1 cute and cuddly cat, delilah
-2 target brand cold capsules
-2 echinachea tablets
-2 chewable multi-vitamins
-1 killer toothache (thanks to infected tooth in need of root canal)
-0 emails of note or interest in response to numerous vital emails sent in the past few days
-18 days until finals
-19 days until san francisco trip

for a larger batch, otherwise known as the less-than-stellar entirety of a saturday, please add the following:

-1 phone call to work to find out if i was scheduled to work alone or with someone
-1 utterance of "shit" when was told it was me and me alone
-1 long hot shower with aim of making self feel better
-1 trip to the swampy-atmosphered target to purchase home dental first aid kid, orajel, cold capsules and pain reliever
-3 additional 1-litre bottles of arrowhead water
-1 sad and desperate phone call to ashley to see if she could give up her evening to cover for me
-1 teary conversation with roomie l.q.t.
-1 semi-awkward encounter with visiting mom of roomie angel bunny
-1 door slamming, snarly-faced trip to work to get twenties out of cash drawer to go to bank in supermarket to get change (moment of desperation)
-2 blood boiling encounters with vigilant political supporter attempting to stop this already upset, wobbly, woozy, angry, bitter, tired, cranky girl to be propagandized with literature about politics.
-1 utterance of "fuck you, go to hell, buddy!" in reply to vigilant political supporter's aggressive and insulting taunts.
-1 phone call to ashley, as she was on her way in to work to save the day for me, with one, much needed humorous and loving chide that i'd "better get healed before the annual shabby chic sale next saturday!"
-1 solemn promise that i would
-1 declaration that i am now "officially going to bed!"

when the big boss is away, oh how the kids play



sometimes, and i'm just saying sometimes...

...i love my job.

my job can be at times the portal to hell. that would be when there are eight hundred and ninety seven things to do, and i'm the one girl who has to do them. and have them done, you know, ten minutes ago. when four phones ring, and i jokingly call out "i'll get it!"--because no one else will get the phone. when there are hundreds of something-or-others to get in the kiln immediately. when there's this, that and the other project, deadline, meeting, crisis... you get the idea. that's when i start to tear my own hair out and curse a lot.

then there's today.

*when the shift kicks off with a saunter down to the local sub sandwich shop with beloved ashley, capped off with a sidewalk chat with coworker gals who have just spotted richard dreyfuss eating at the cafe next door.
*when i get to walk around saying in several british dialects: "would you like me to write the numbers on these apple ornaments?" and make people giggle.
*when recently wed coworker and i can catch up on a little dish.
*when ashley and i huddle with one of the accounting guys in the kiln room, telling him some funny-ass stuff that makes him cackle with appreciative laughter.
*when the hot buzz in the office is the game can you pass the third grade?
*when i leave early because it's my turn to buy the breakfast for the weekly staff meeting and i want to go to trader joe's so that i can buy yummy food that i want to eat.
*when i get to say in reference to jamie luner of just the ten of us "dude, that chick is hot!"
*when the banter with a male coworker reaches the point where i have no choice but to laugh and say, as i walk out the door to go to starbucks: "nah, i'm just fucking with you!"

days like today are why sometimes, and i'm just saying sometimes, i love my job.

my cup runneth over...

so the first of the four prizes in the sassy little punkin contest has been sent and received! may i proudly present recipient and enjoyer of hot beverages, secret agent josephine... and her custom secret agent mug, handpainted by yours truly! ms. josephine is such a stylin' secret agent that it was just absolutely vital that her charming likeness be forever preserved on a ceramic item. congratulations to you, secret agent jo! may you always drink from it in good health and spirit! (my thanks to the secret agent herself for the photo, which i totally stole off her website!)

ok, now, folks, i'm thinking about setting up a page to showcase and hopefully sell some of my work. i've sold a few here and there, but, hey, this is the land of capitalism; perhaps i should capitalize on my talent! hmmmm...

drowning fish, joe, and texas t-bone, yours are all in the works, and will be on their way shortly!

this canadian goes IDOL:

hold the phone. guess who just got asked to go see the finale of American Idol tonight, live and in person at the Universal Ampitheater?

Um, yeah. That would be me!

what did the girl guides teach me?

i spent six years of my girlhood in the girl guides program (that's scouts to you americans). let me tell you, i had a blast. i credit those years with being pivotal in the development of my rebellious, in your face, yet over-achieving personality. sure, they'd tell me to do one thing and i'd do another, but i'd also go and earn myself the highest honor in guiding, so, (blows raspberry), ha ha, just watch me kick some serious ass! (as a side note, my first taste of publishing was when i ringleaded the movement to make an underground newsletter. that and other episodes of acting out made me the kid sized terror the poor leaders had to reckon with, and made me hands down the most popular girl in the bunch!)

the girl guide motto, as i recall, is "be prepared". now, i ask, what has this served me in my adult years?

while i am the crafty girl who can make a cookstove out of a coffee tin, i am also the girl who forgets to bring a scantron sheet to her 9 a.m. test today. some girl guide i turned out to be.

get out the map, warm up the compass

my ice cream meltdown proved to be a watershed moment.

i am opening my eyes up to legitimate direction in my life. things i yearn for are now going to be things that i work to put within reach. goals are no longer lofty. i refuse to throw up my own roadblocks.

a friend of mine innocently chided me yesterday, telling me that a situation i'm in is a classic scenario in my life. and that i am prone to self-sabotage. i didn't like the sound of that. so i'm going to fix it.

there are some real, legitimate, honest to goodness things i want out of life. i thank my lucky stars that i am capable, free, intelligent and creative, and that i have opportunities everywhere. it's just that i live my life telling myself that while there are limitless possibilities, none of them are possible for me.

this is going to involve admitting where i've been wrong. making some sacrifices. applying myself. making lists and checking them twice. not just saing that i believe in myself, but really mean it.

so, i'm breaking out the road map to life. this girl has places to go.

it's only a matter of time...

...until i eat one of those damned drumstick ice cream thingees dear housemate l.q.t. put in the freezer.

tick, tock. tick, tock.

yeah. it's time.

dear diary...

where to begin? i have been busier than a one-armed paper-hanger, as my grandma would say!

...sometimes it feels like you got a hall pass to slip out of your normal life routine, when you spend your days and nights doing things and seeing folks you don't regularly see. you know what i mean? that's what the past few days have been like for me, and i've loved every moment of it!

dearest diary, everyone has been clamoring to know what i've been up to, and who i've been up to it with! i don't want to be tacky, or gauche or a kiss-and-teller about things! (i mean, yeah, sure, sometimes i do, but not in this case!) i've just had the most lovely couple of days with a great guy! from the good old-fashioned kicking back with friends, to the latest episode of impro theatre's carnal peaks, to the table talk chatter after the show that has left a tickle in my throat still from all the laughter, to the sweetest moments i don't want to find words for here...

the saddest part was when i had to get up saturday morning for work... and we had to say goodbye. i sure wish, dear diary, that it didn't have to be that way...

from the affair to remember to the fair to forget

the rest of my weekend has been consumed by the annual local theatre and arts fest. work, work, work! f.y.i., last year's arts fest is the origin of the saying "tragic to some, gratifying to others." it's also the event that brought us the famous burning (and as yet unanswered) question: "do you know where they got the rice pudding around here?" this year is a little more low key than last, although a percentage of attendees are still sporting their "fair shoes" and "fair clothes"; because naturally when you go to a street fair in may in los angeles it's best if you do it dressed to the nines in super high heels. it's just so practical!

but the weekend is winding down. tomorrow brings me back to my normal routine of school, work, blogging, procrastination. and now i'm just looking forward to the middle of june, when the quarter is over and i'm boarding a plane that will take me 375 miles north, to see a very deserving boy for another slice of a borrowed life. and another sad goodbye.

thanks for listening, dear diary. i've been busy, but pretty happy. and that's always a good thing!

love always,

*punkin*

good sportsmanship

fellas, ladies...

if i were to pass you in the hallway, or engage in some locker room chatter with you today, at some point you'd ask me how my day was yesterday.

"great!" i would say.

then you would ask me how my night was.

"even better!" i'd say.

and then you would all high-five me.

you know what i mean?

drumroll please!

and hand me the sealed envelope only seen prior by the senior staff accountant of price waterhouse...

thank you all for coming. isn't this such a momentous occasion? it's nice that we can come together as a real community like this. do you like my dress? it's ralph lauren. joan rivers loves it, so screw you if you don't. i'm covered where it counts, and that's my ass...literally and figuratively.

let's get right to the big award...

and we have an unprecedented four-way-tie!!!

for individual ranking and merit, the following four folks are receiving prizes and glory in the 'how well do you know the sassy little punkin?' contest!!!

see, you should all have entered! then you would have won something, too! ha!

congratulations to:

drowning fish
joe
secret agent josephine, and
texas t-bone

wahoo! hooray! yahoooooo!

i will contact you all individually regarding your little prizey-poo!

now i gotta go. there are several parties i must attend, and interviews to give.

love and other indoor sports,

the sassy little punkin, whom you know pretty damn well!

higher education:

i have learned the following things today during the free time i've had before i have to go to class tonight:

1. i love 1987, too!

2. it is highly satisfying to get your nails done, grab some cheap chinese take-out, and watch full house.

now serving...number F061 at window 5

so today i kicked off my day with a trip to the department of motor vehicles. even with an appointment i had to wait forty-five minutes, sitting on a blue plastic chair with row after row of german immigrants, ancient and wobbly grandpas, eccentric grandmas, folks of all colors, shapes and sizes holding screaming babies, and irate men in technician uniforms. oh, it was a "jolly place" indeed, as one eccentric grandma said. come to discover, while i can get a replacement license now, i will still have to go back in december to renew my license when the stolen one expired. if only the thieving bitch who took my wallet had waited a few months, then i could have killed two birds with one stone. don't even get me started on the hideous photo they took of me. i am, however, wearing the necklace made by kerry of the safeword, given to me as a perk for having made a donation to her computer fund. so thanks, kerry! your handiwork is immortalized on my driver's license!

went out. fun was had.

after a mildly hideous day at work, i met up with the ever entertaining bunny, and we hit amoeba records in hollywood. there i was forced to discipline myself and only buy two cd's (the latest beck and the latest pete yorn). we met up with bunny's bro, and hit up the famous stinking rose restaurant. aaaaaaaaah, garlic! i can now say i've actually eaten garlic ice cream and lived to tell about it. my mouth feels and tastes like nothing i can think of. this was an intense, tasty and not-to-be-repeated-any-time-soon dining adventure. but, hey, what the hell. i'm happy i went out and did something. (came to discover on their website that they make garlic condoms. oh, my oh my oh my!)

this might break some hearts:

there's one hour left until midnight here on america's pacific coast. and there's been an upset in the rankings of my little contest. i'll post the official tally tomorrow. right now i have to shower to wash the garlic off my skin.

nobody loves me, everybody hates me, i think i'll go eat worms...

ok, so i've come to the conclusion that you all (y'all to you texans) think i'm ugly. this is beacause no one is leaving comments about the photos i posted. irrational, perhaps, but i am feeling unpopular, thus forcing me to pad the comments box with comments of my own. (what, i wonder, did the google searcher who linked to me on the lookup of "sexxxxxxxxy" think of the photos of yours truly?)

don't mind me, i'm just bitter...here's why:

*i have less than four hours to complete an essay for the beloved hunky professor's class. it is entirely my fault for leaving it up to the very last minute, as i am prone to do time and time again, but i still feel entitled to be bitter about it.

*i have not received any new entries to my contest! you guys are letting joe run away with a virtually uncontested championship! there's one day left to enter! shit, put aside whatever lame work you're supposed to do and send me an email. make this girl's day brighter!

*after months of ignoring the fact that i have to go to the dentist so he can finish the root canal he started in december, my damn tooth hurts again. i need a fundraiser to help send me to the dentist, make my car payment, and get both chef tony's miracle blades and time life's ultimate 70's collection. this whole working-for-a-tiny-paycheck thing just isn't cutting it.

*you guys all go out and do fun things. i work and watch lame "90210" reunion specials. and "what not to wear" and "the brady bunch movie" and... oh my god, i need to actually go out and do fun things.

i now have less than less-than-four-hours to finish this freakin' essay. crikey, as the english say. (i think. don't they say that? michy? indigo steve, can you back me up?)


i leave you with one burning question: whatever happened to geri jewell, the comic with cerebal palsy that played blair's cousin on the facts of life? sometimes i miss her, and it hurts right here (points to heart).

photos: hot from the inbox



taken last weekend at coworker's wedding...

the work posse took up two whole tables in the deliberately selected back corner of the banquet hall. (ideal patio access for myself and ashley, so we could sneak out and smoke ciggies, making us the envy of all work gal-pals who have quit in the past couple of years)

our gang had a blast at the wedding; it's amazing how once you exorcise the demons of office supplies, cashflow problems, deadlines, meetings, agendas, projects, office equipment and phone calls, there is so much room for laughter, sexy banter, playfulness, honesty, and digital cameras.

never one to shy from posing with a super model pout, here are two glamor shots taken of myself, the ever-lovely ashley, and beloved co-worker lane. (i have posted the photos at ashley's request, in hopes someone falls in love with her pixie face and freshly chopped blonde 'do. i assure you, boys, this miss ashley is a treasure, a catch, a real find.) oh yeah, and i'm single too!! (wink wink)

i want, i need, i must have:

last week i thought the be-all, end-all was chef tony's set of amazing knives. but, oh, no!

i simply must save my pennies for THIS!!!!!!!!

smooth operator

sometimes when i call my mom at work i get all breathy and sexy and say "what are you wearing?"

she always knows it's me, though. no fun!

"from the dark corners of her playfully sexy mind..."

because the evil one lives on my block, i suffer from constant paranoia that i will run in to him. this, however, assumes that he leaves the house during waking hours. since he couldn't hack the day version of his job he has been working over night shifts since the start of the year, so, really, since his lazy ass has tivo, and pink dot is just a phone call away, the boy can live like a vampire, holed up in his man cave. so i don't see him, ever. thank god. since we stopped speaking in march i've seen him in his car a grand total of two times.

i do, though, have a fantasy about what i would do if i saw them. i vary it slightly from time to time (hommage to when harry met sally: harry: "which part?" sally: "what i'm wearing"), but it mainly involves my smirking saucily, and giving him the finger. today's version has me cheekily popping my middle finger up at him, much like the end of aerosmith's "cryin'" video, where alicia silverstone is dangling from the bungee cord, resplendent with her sun-kissed hair and tawny so cal skin. yeah, baby.

attention, attention, important contest info!

may i announce my current leader, joe, with a total score of 19.5! way to go, joe!

the "halfsies" question is turning out to be a grey area one. so i'm giving half points, because there is one, short, techinical answer to it, but what i'm getting is still accurate.

working hard or hardly working?

and to be fair to all of you who really work during your work day...

the dealine has been moved to 11:59 p.m. pacific time, tuesday may 13th.

keep 'em coming!

by popular demand: the official 'how well do you know the sassy little punkin?' contest!

the rules: you may enter only once, either via comments or email (sassylittlepunkin@yahoo.com). there will be a prize! the winner is the person who gets the most answers correct. if there is a tie, then the tied parties will each receive a prize. (what can i say, i'm generous). in order to receive a prize, you will have to surrender to me your real name and a mailing address. if the prospect of this scares you, either don't enter, or don't win. i will not publish your personal info, i promise! the contest is open to anyone who reads my blog, whether regularly, occasionally, privately, openly, silently, or in the nude. the answers are all contained somewhere in the archives of my blog, and there are no 'trick' questions. the deadline for entry is 11:59 p.m. pacific time, sunday may 11th 2003. i'll announce the winner shortly thereafter.

(wow, this sounds more formal that i thought it would! i like being so official!)

good luck to you all, and may the best blogger win!

how well do you know the sassy little punkin?

1. list 3 "things i need to say to josh" (aka 'the evil one')

2. what epsiode of sex and the city do i reference where carrie bradshaw says: "it's so over, we need a new word for over"?

3. name a city i've lived in, other than los angeles.

4. if i could ask michael jackson one question, what would it be?

5. how does one ring in a halfsies?

6. list 2 googlisms for punkin that i am fond of.

7. for what cd-rom game does my friend provide a voice for?

8. what does v.d.b. stand for?

9. according to my friends, if i were an alcoholic drink, what would i be?

10. when was the last time i had sex?

11. who told a story about me when they were a guest on late night with david letterman?

12. of what food am i a self-proclaimed conneiseur?

13. what is my car's name?

14. if i went on the show spend it fast, at what store would i like to spend the loot?

15. what did i rescue from the bathroom the day the men came to fix my bathtub?

16. who is my stalker?

17. do i watch american idol or the bachelor?

18. according to the professor's band, lust pollution, "men are only________ _______"

19. name one of two cartoons i wish i could be a character on.

20. what was stolen from me last week?

bonus: what was my template background color before i switched to pink?

thanks for playing! fabulous prizes await you!

congratulations, ms. cati fab!

you are the winner of the matching game!

and here's johnny to explain what you've won!

actually, i'll send you an email. i have decided that the winner would get a one-of-a-kind, hand-painted blogger's mug, styled to match their current template. (i made mine the other day, and drank my coffee from it this very morning).

now, to explain...

1. my mom and step dad had me over to dinner last night, and they bbq'd the tastiest flank steak known to man. my mother, being the mother that she is, sent me home with the following: a framed photograph of her at 6 months with her mother, grandmother and great grandmother circa 1950, two starbucks gift cards, and a bag of meat. ahem, i mean a bag of leftover flank steak.

2. i want a digital camera for my half-birthday. i may have to buy it for myself, but dammit, i want one.

3. my parents made me a gin and tonic last night for the pre-dinner cocktail hour. holy crap, that was tasty. how could i have lived all these years without ever having had one? this will be the next thing i order in a bar.

4. beloved gal-pal came in to some pin money yesterday by way of ridding herself of some old relationship baggage. (all above the law, don't worry!). she cracked me up by emailing me to tell me that she was on her way to buy toilet paper with the cash. and that just rocks.

5. yesterday (and today too) was a royally sucky day at work. so sucky that i was forced to comfort myself with a helping of ice cream from the freezer at work. but where were all the spoons? no time to investigate. must eat ice cream now. must use fork.

6. my friend had been trying to get a hold of anyone, anyone, anyone who might remember a line from her one woman show that she performed and i worked on last year. "what was the name of the poem i had said?" she asked me. pause. me: "yeast". her: "i love you."

7. beloved co-worker gave me a crash course in the fine art of feng-shui. surprise, surprise, i need to tend to my 'relationship' area. noted. am going home to change my life by redecorating. hope it works!

8. i remembered that the evil one never appreciated my sexy dkny g-string underwear. (red flag, not the man for me!) instead he dismissively referred to them as my 'string and a patch'.

thanks, everyone, for playing. i personally had a blast with it. i'll do it again some other time, i promise!

let's play a fun matching game!

match the description in part one with the item in part two, and win fun prizes!

part one
1. one of the things i left my parents' house with tonight
2. what i want for my half-birthday
3. a yummy new discovery
4. purchased by beloved gal-pal with newly acquired cash
5. what i ate ice cream with this afternoon
6. the answer to the question my friend had been desperately seeking for days
7. something i had a crash course in today courtesy beloved co-worker
8. the evil one's name for my sexy undies

part two
a. a fork
b. "yeast"
c. toilet paper
d. bag of meat
e. feng-shui
f. gin and tonic
g. a digital camera
h. string and a patch

i'll post the answers later in my comments.

"this is the friggin' twilight zone"

have you ever laughed so hard at something someone said that you lost balance and tipped over to the side, nearly falling out of your desk in a crowded classroom?

i have.

fantasy island

while life circumstances routinely force me to dwell in reality, i still give myself permission to live in the fantasy world of 'punkin lands herself a professor'. just as all fantasies, i'm sure it's a lovely place to visit, but probably not a dreamy place to live. in my fantasy, however, there is a natural progression that goes as follows. feel free to grab a pen and tick off the steps with me, as they are accomplished.

1. walk from class to parking lot behind professor at the end of evening. (done: weds. april 23)

2. walk from class to parking lot near professor, as he converses with older, female former student, and he engages you in their conversation. (done: mon. april 28)

3. walk from class to parking lot with professor, when he approaches you and initiates a conversation. in this conversation he recalls a fact about you that you said in passing well over 6 months ago, leading to the opportunity for you to tell him more about your non-academic life. he walks an extra distance to finish out the conversation with you. (done: weds. april 30th).

4. walk from class to parking lot with professor, he speeds up to catch up with you, commenting that it has now become 'our usual custom' to walk together. you engage him regarding his upcoming academic conference, impressing him with your interest. (done: mon. may 5)*

5. walk from class to parking lot with professor. he invites you over and you spend the night alternating between hot lusty sex and intellectually stimulating conversation about art, literature, music, your love for each other and your common destiny. (done: uhhh... not yet. maybe next week.)

*do you ever feel like you are having a conversation, and holding your own, and yet it's like an out-of-body experience? in this conversation the professor recalled that a student this evening in class had made a reference to sex and the city, reiterating that he'd seen the show, but failed to see in it the new york city he knew.

my witty reply: "well, the show isn't really aimed at your demographic. i think it's geared a bit more towards the young single gal."

his witty reply: "and i certainly am not often mistaken for a young single gal."

gawd, i hope he wasn't offended. i swear, i try to be flirty, and witty and charming, and, oof, out spills some lame dialogue. sheesh.

meanwhile, back in the land of reality

reality equals the reminder that the hunky professor isn't on the market for several reasons. above and beyond the taboo line of professor/student, he is, as some may have forgotten (believe me, i'd like to), a man with a girlfriend. (this is where i normally insert derogatory remarks about said girlfriend, having seen her previously.) this non-single, non-young, non-sassy gal drives a junker of a car; after steps 3 and 4 (see above), the professor did not hop into his own vehicle, but in to the passenger seat of her evil white rabbit.

bearing witness to this speeds up the process of my returning to reality.

reality bites

this is where i am forced to make phone call after phone call to cancel and renew all the little plastic cards that used to live in the gorgeous wallet that used to live in my purse du jour. this is where i get all riled up and pay a visit to two of the numerous establishments that accepted my stolen visa card, for nearly $300 combined in charges. (don’t even get me started on the visit i paid to one Hector’s Salon...) this is where my week ahead is crammed with over 45 hours of scheduled work hours, one improv class, one chance to be on fox news with orphaned triplets, one 6 page paper due monday for the professor, one darling ashley gone away on business, and one dinner over at the parents’ place.

the upside
countdown to the visit of the v.d.b.: ten days.

now i’m gonna suck down the rest of my diet coke with lemon, smoke a cig, take some aspirin, and lose myself in my cable tv.

ah, the sheer poetry of life...

theft! violation! my sense of injustice has reached a dramatic peak!

today my wallet was stolen from my purse while i was at work.

the bastard(s) used my visa check card to go on a ghetto-fabulous shopping spree, and spent more than what i had in my account. and, naturally, i'm the gal in the house who holds everyone's rent money and is supposed to write the rent check on the 5th. which, for obvious reasons, won't be happening tomorrow. punkin now has to get a new driver's license, social security card, etc. etc. etc. and on and on. at least i am too ghetto myself to have any credit cards. but it was my beautiful christmas present wallet, ralph lauren! aww, shucks, i guess i can't go to the gym and work out, because some funky thief has my membership card. maybe they will pay my overdue fines at the los angeles public library and blockbuster video. really, it's the least they can do. i'd better have some good karma coming my way. the universe owes this gal some real favors now!

sigh...

anyhow, before this happened, i'd written out some mildly witty things to blog about. so, as not to drop the ball...

things i do and then immediately wish i hadn't:

*punctuate sentences in conversation with "dude!"

*put what i'm about to wear on the bed, forgetful of the fact that i have a cat, who has fur, and a penchant for lying on clothes.

*eat a tuna melt at midnight at the local greasy spoon.

*try out sunless tanning foam and leave the house without being 'spot-checked' by a pal.

*take that little nap before work, right after waking up and watching reruns of beverly hills 90210.

books and their covers; the sort of folks i take an instant dislike to, based on experience:

*people who carry birds on their shoulders out in public.

*grown men who are addicted to game shows, and believe it's a 'way of life'.

*people who come in to my work selling spa or vacation packages, but insist they are not 'soliciting'.

*priests wearing headset microphones.

*parents who tell their kids exaclty how to paint their pieces, or go one further and just paint it for them, but sign the kids' name.

*people who steal my wallet. obviously. fuckers.

are you there god? it's me, punkin...


please figure out a way to make me independently wealthy. that way i don't have to get up and go to work. i could just lie in bed until i had gotten a complete night's rest, enjoy some television via some elaborate sattellite system, and then take my ass out for a nice brunch when i was good and ready. then i could go and buy myself something nice to wear to co-worker's wedding tomorrow, and a fancy-ass gift. then i could spend my free time studying (well, okay, this probably wouldn't happen). then i could go to target and toss things in my shiny red shopping cart with wild abandon. i could go to the mcdonald's drive through and say with confidence: "supersize it!" without having to count the change in my wallet first. and someone could come over and give me a massage. this isn't asking for much, is it?

oh, and p.s., god?

can you please figure out a way to get a boy to be crazy about me? thanks...
--punkin

my answers to these questions:

1. gettin' it on with the professor
2. pretty regularly... maybe every other day.
3. none necessary!
4. almost 19, hand. (late bloomer)
5. i always enjoy watching when the guy in my life does it. it's just such a fascinating thing!

don't you ever just wish...

...that you could be like jerrica/jem and touch your earring and say: "it's showtime, synergy!"?

One August Night

One inch over to the right, indirectly detached
Shifting sweaty limbs weary and bloated
Hazy late night steam still lingering
Rose petals candle glow bubbles pink tile
Geometric metallic bright bursts to break the pattern
Every other visit blissfully passionate and compatible
I don't know you said one thousand times again
I'm crying you said, as I strained to see the tears
I bite my lip; pulling back flesh to hold something in
More than my arguable beauty, more than another kiss
Secrets swirling in my head:
I won't love you because you can't
Analysis and theory brimming in yours:
I won't love her because I can't
We can't sleep because we're in love

8/21/01