Good Stuff

San Diego
Cooking
Anjunabeats
Cats
Mark Morford
Yoga
Summeriness
Pina Coladas
Alex Garland
FBI 94.5
BBQs
Ear candles
Turkish Markets
Ocean (any one)
Sex

Bad Stuff

Ticks
Office Politics
93.3 The Lite
Spiders
Zombies
My legs
Blogger's block
Shrub
Jimmy Buffet
Glasses (mine)
Self-pity
All celebrity news
Rudy Giuliani
Tomatoes
T-Mobile

Nostalgia

For the long weekend I ventured back to the house I spent a good chunk of time in whilst growing up. To see my Dad and have him meet a friend of mine. Everytime I go back there it seems a bit different. The house smells unfamiliar, the rooms smaller than I remember, and the people in this small town are arguably the same but older.

The weekend passed in a lovely, relaxing blur of cooking, hiking, drinking, and dancing with spurts of ufo convos (from my eccentric father). Towards the end of this speedy blast from the past I found all of my journals kept through my angsty adolescent years. Browsing through them absentmindedly I couldn't help but be thankful that I'm not 15 anymore. God, some of the crap I wrote down! I think at the time of writing the stuff I was worried about sounding like a "good kid" if someone accidentally read one of them so there's not a whole lot of "fucking bitch!" and whatnot in them. Boring vanilla. In the earlier ones.

There were some nice memories brought back, however. Especially on a trip through Holland (one of the later journos that was a bit more flavourful). I was getting high off hashish with a good friend and her buddies from the hopping town of Hoorn. We had ridden our bicycles over to a large dyk and then triapsed down the long pier jutting into a placid lake.

"Here." D handed me the joint. I took a toke and passed it on. After a while we were all a little giggly and spaced. I had never experienced this stuff before and was hit a bit hard. All of a sudden I felt like I could fall into the lake and had to get back onto land. On the dyk, D was walking with her arms held away from her body and shouting, "K! We're on a dyk! Hehehe We're walking on a dyk!" Then she fell and she screamed with laughter, "K! I'm lying on a dyk!" It's a silly memory but I love it. I miss D.

Texas

I am not a huge fan. I know there must be some good things from Texas, ooh! Like the Dixie Chicks. I'm not big on their music but they have open-minded political views. Ok, so not everything is bad in the Lone-Star State (but engineers in Austin are definitely on the fuckwit side).

My friend, Justina, just sent me this article. The first line is classic: "Good thing we've still got politics in Texas--finest form of free entertainment ever invented," the late Molly Ivins once wrote. Perhaps it's something in the water down there.

Jesus & George

I knew it. Bush's religious zeal is codshit.

Funny

Last night I saw a woman walking down the street with three massive dogs in tow doing lunges.

Simmer down now

Saturday was beautiful. The sun was out and it was warm and hot. Goldeny. I went to the beach. What good is it living on one if you can't go lay out when it's hot and sunny? The day floated by in a sun-soaked haze. New music was downloaded onto the iPod, the gym was visited, laundry done, and then an invite to an early evening bbq.

On D's porch the beautiful breeze heavily tainted with summer swept over us with promise. Me, D, N, and G were sitting outside. Various chit-chat (of which I don't remember so much due to my vast intake of quality coronas and a new invention of D's which has been dubbed "Hillary's drink") was taking place. Lots of laughing and joking, too.

A girl with big hair, big lips, and big boobs charges out onto the porch. We look at her with drunk interest and smile politely. "Want a cigarette?" I offer.

Big: "No. I don't smoke or drink."

D: "What are you? Pregnant?" We start giggling all quite pissed like and I look over to laugh with her, too. But she's not laughing. Oopsy. She looks down right miffed.

Big: "What? Are you saying that I'm fat? Are you saying that I look pregnant? God! I can't believe you just said that to me!" I busted up again and snorted out Hillary's drink. D looked at us in amused disbelief. He turned to Big.

D: "No. I was just joking. Y'know...you don't drink or smoke...Sorry." He trailed off hoping she'd just drop it at this point.

Big: "No, I don't know! God!" And she stomped back inside with the big-stuff bouncing. 10 minutes later after we had finished our belly-laughs a friend of hers came onto the porch and asked why we had told her friend she looked pregnant. Oh dear.

In hindsight it was an insensitive comment to make. Perhaps she had a history or something was going on that we weren't aware of but what people say whilst pissed shouldn't be taken too seriously sometimes.

Reflection

It was a perfect, sunny May morning. Like so many others. The phone is ringing in the sun-drenched kitchen. She picks it up and listens to the other two speakers.

"...surgery on her throat today. We'll let you know how it goes." She places the phone back into the receiver and pads out the door, backpack and hair swinging carelessly.

The day sails by smoothly; everything is great. There is a festival going on with lots of singing, dancing, running amok outside and playing ball. She looks at the clock at 2:55pm and is filled with undescribable happiness. Tears would spill down her face if she were capable of creating them. A rush of tingling warmth sweeps through her being acutely and she leans into it with obvious bliss.

She steps off the bus and walks to the car. The afternoon sun is pin-pricking the shade of full-bloomed maple trees. The air is sweet and fresh with a light breeze rolling about. She opens the car door and he says, "We lost her. We lost her."

Bottles clinking together as liquid is flushed down sinks, the evening sunset casts a melancholy glow upon the once happy kitchen. She holds his head in her lap as he weeps.

Sleep

Whingy and tired
Tired and whingy
I need my bed
A big duvet
Pulled over my head
Shut out the light
Shut out the world
If only sleep might
pull me below
So heavy I feel
Outside places
hold no appeal
I want to sink far
into a dream
let me doze off
and think
of sweet things

Politician

Before getting involved in real estate I was studying Down Under to be a politician. Specifically I wanted to be a diplomat. Undergrad degree was in Political Science and then I was accepted to do a Masters in London but declined due to finances. I'm happy now that I'm not going to delve under into the dark, murky realm of politics. Corruption and evil and all that.

Speaking of corruption and evil and all that, I just read a lovely little article stating that Paul Wolfowitz is going to keep his job as President of the World Bank. Apparently Europe is dissatisfied with Mr. Wolfowitz's efforts and would like to see him kicked out but America still believes in him.

Well, the government, anyway. Good 'ol Connie has got the Wolf's back. But see, it's not helping his girlfriend get shady raises that Paul should be fired as President. What about this trifling matter of an illegal war in Iraq? Eh? He's the one who's helping to bankroll the whole effing operation. People are pissed off that his main squeeze's salary goes up $70,000 but what about the millions of people suffering and thousands dying due to America's 'freedom' being forced upon them?

Of course, it's the whole Bush Administration that should be sacked and thrown in jail. Congress is knee-deep in criminals. But that's how politicians roll, man. The slimy underbelly of Justice.

What would the world be like if Al Gore had won?

Orbital

Lately there's a tune that has been flitting on and off through my head. For the past two weeks. I hadn't heard it in yonks but then it came on during breakfast one Sunday morning. I'm talking about Belfast from the broken-up brother duo Orbital.

This song is chilled and beautiful. It conjures up images of sunrises and comedowns. The flowing beauty of the woman's voice spills gently around me whilst the light synths and mellow bass blend perfectly together. I see colour with this tune. It's a deep purple with patches of bright blinding white that spin together and melt into radiance.*

Been a fan of Orbital since the mid-90's and it's a bit sad that they broke up a few years ago. But that Belfast tune...there's just something about it. It's not going away anytime soon for me.

Perfect Sunrise is another great tune of theirs that I enjoy immensely:



*Am not on LSD, I'm sober when I see this stuff and it's in my mind not actually in front of me like true psychedelics.

BT

Me, the bf, and a few friends went to see a free concert thrown by BT last weekend. BT is really commercial, like all superstar djs, but that doesn't discount the quality of his music. His performance was full of hi-energy pulses and slamming beats. Excellent night all around. Can't wait for Dave Seaman coming up...

Overheard

I love this site. It gives me a chuckle when I'm bored at work and not dealing with crazy tenants or slang-wielding security guards. Here are a few I found really amusing today:

NYU Tisch student #1: What are your views on religion?
NYU Tisch student #2: I don't believe in God. I do believe in bran cereal. It protects against rectal cancer.
--NYU Tisch building

Dude: Hi, I'm looking for the World Trade Center.
Cop: Uhhh, yeah... You need to go to Manhattan.
--Ferry Terminal, Staten Island

Young Woman: I hate you. I hope your heart explodes in your chest right now.
Old woman: You're just saying that because I tried to run you over.
Young woman: You are a terrible mother.
--Bank of America ATM, Broadway

Tip du Jour

Don't use slang in emergency situations. And always listen. Example:

Security: "He fell out on the 3rd floor. The ambulance and fire-department are on-site."

Me: "He fell out?! As in fell out the window?"

Security: Crunching noises over phone, "Yeah."

Then 6 minutes later after I had notified everyone and their mothers,

Security: "Paramedics are leaving. The person must be alright."

Me: "What?! The person is alright after falling out the window?!"

Security: "What are you talking about?"

Me: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

Security: "The person fell out. He didn't fall out the window!"

Me: "What does THAT mean?!"

Security: "He passed out! Fainted...you know?"

Me: "No, I don't know! I just notified everyone and their mothers that a person has fallen out the window! You said 'Yeah' when I asked you before!"

Security: "No, I didn't!"*

Me: "You did, too!"

So, long story short (kinda)- People, please don't use ebonics during emergency situations. For those of us who don't know what the hell you're talking about we might take it seriously (i.e. moi). Talk about being morto.


*She probably was eating crisps while telling me the situ and that's the crunching noise I heard in the background (also explains why she would confirm a person has fallen out the window. Nutter).

Work

My job at the moment is like a slow painful death (or what I would imagine one to be as I have yet to actually experience a slow painful death and honestly it just sounds painful so why would I want to?). We all know we're being made redundant but the corporate yokes are getting their uppity jollies by keeping us in suspense (i.e. complete terror) as to when we're outta the ballpark. But it's times like today when I come across a particularly humourous service request from a tenant that it doesn't seem so painful or slow:

Tenant: XXX Company
Contact: Ms. X
Request type: Miscellaneous Repairs
Details: Client in office 123 requests a big, burly, manly stud to hang his dry-erase board for him. We's all just women folk here. Bill us and we'll bill him. Mwah!

Classic. Love the tenants with a sense of humour. I think that totals it up to 3.