1. Kudos to Vivid Entertainment for seeing a business opportunity in an unlikely place, but have they thought this through? Is there anyone, anyone who is not absolutely disgusted by the idea of octo-mom porn?
2. I would like to know if there is a scientific reason why my fingernails on my left hand grow twice as fast as my right, or if I am unwittingly biting the right ones twice as often.
3. Nicole Miller now has a line at JC Penney. I am uncertain how to feel about this, but something tells me it can’t be good. To be honest, I’m surprised Nicole is able to stomach the thought of her designs created entirely out of polyester and paper-thin synthetics.
4. Is there a single person in my life today that would be willing to attend the Houston Quilting Expo at the George R Brown on October 13? I have a lucrative business scheme revolving around taking the quilting world by storm. Anyone willing to endure the initial startup will get a cut. Just saying.
5. My dad sent me an article a week ago about how prominent scientists/psychologists/smart folks are now concluding that the definition and formula for genius is “intelligence, enthusiasm, endurance”. I’m supposing my naturally occurring 33.33% of this composition counts me out. Boo. Hoo.
6. I read a lot of crap. Enough to know that there is a woman somewhere in America, currently or previously pregnant with a “Baby on Board” tattoo on her belly. I feel like one of those people that spends hours linking through various Wikipedia entries until they eventually find out things they didn’t want to know.
Am I the only one that noticed this?
Starring at approximately 12 ounces of hot, melted wax in a jar at my desk and calculating the likelihood of me knocking it over makes me realize that if it ever were to really happen, it would create a mess so big I might have to quit my job to avoid ever returning to the mulberry-scented crime scene in my cubicle.
Even so, I find myself nudging and messing with thing involuntarily and without explanation. It must come from the same part of my brain that compels me to swerve into oncoming traffic and touch things even when I know they are hot.
Today I made a conscious decision to begin self-censoring and seeking only the news I want to hear.
Design, fashion, artistic inspiration, psychology. Maybe some political commentary. I’ve decided out with traditional news media, back to only watching E! because I can’t take another story about a 93 year old WWII veteran freezing to death in his home because the electric company shut off his power after being late on his payments.
I just can’t. The lump in my throat won’t allow it.
Shaking off the tears and moving on, I ask for input. I’ve decided I will now read TheDailyBeast.com, TrendHunter.com and Salon.com in addition to my abundant supply of design blogs. Maybe some Perez Hilton.
What else is good?
I just saw the headline “Birthday boy asks for food, not toys” on CNN.com and my first thought (and really was the reason I clicked to watch the video) was that he was going to be some 130 pound obese Maury baby.
Nope, just donating food to the hungry. Probably to the Maury kids.
To have any chance of understanding me fully as a complex person, I feel that I must tell everyone here and now that as a child and as an adult, the two actresses I strive to be like are Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton.
I feel like if I could achieve this, at least in attaining my perception of these two women, I would accomplish becoming exactly the sort of woman I would like to be, and exactly the sort of woman I believe most should be.
To me, Lily Tomlin is like the upbeat Daria. The original Janeane Garofalo. She’s no nonsense, but she’s all nonsense. She’s clever and fearless and oh-so witty. Sharp as a tack.
While I figure few people look past the obvious when it comes to Dolly Parton, the lady is everything I think of when I think of a real lady. She is polite and kind and accomodating the way older generations think women should be, but she would never for one second let anyone walk all over her.
Lily Tomlin Must-Watch: Nine to Five, Big Business, I Heart Huckabees
Dolly Parton Must-Watch: Nine to Five, Steel Magnolias (and if you are feeling REALLY Lifetime Movie-y, “Unlikely Angel”)
The dark, unspoken truth of traffic accidents is that if you have the tragic misfortune of being killed in a 5:30 pm, rush hour crash on 610 by the Galleria, people hate you as much as if they had stoned you to death themselves.
Inconveniencing, it seems, is our nation’s most unforgivable crime.
I consider myself a fairly open person. I think it’s safe to say I am disgusted by very little. By any sort of lifestyle, by grotesque consumerism, by feverish conservatism, by shallowness or depth. Mostly I am just interested in seeing things differently than I see them now.
I remember very vividly a Sunday spent in church youth group in which they asked us how many non-Christian friends we had left. Apparently, once you commit and become a Christian you tend to spend more and more time with other Christians and less time with people that don’t share this important part of your life. How could you? You are now different from them and must drift away. Either they join you on team Jesus or they just don’t understand you anymore.
They made us raise our hands. I think I was the only one in the room with more than two non-Christians in my immediate friend circle.
I have always felt that there was something wrong with that. If Christianity is all about reaching out and being inclusive, what are we doing isolating ourselves? How do you make someone feel welcomed if you send the message they are too different to ever really belong?
There is something innate about surrounding yourself with like-minded people- we all have a need to validate and reinforce the decisions and circumstances that have made us who we are. And while I am all about having a community of believers as your foundation, I sometimes think we smother ourselves in stagnation without dissenting opinions.
Because it is everything different and converse to our nature that makes life interesting. That inspires us to create. I honestly feel my mind begin to turn to mush and every under-utilized muscle in my body aches to escape whenever life becomes overly familiar. Whenever the days begin to seem the same and I never meet any new people and never talk about anything different. I feed off the difference and I often wonder how people can live their lives exclusively in the comfort of the familiar.
Hokay, so I’ve been mentally preparing a new post pretty much since the last one, but since it involves playing a DVD on my computer and taking a screenshot and cropping it to get the picture I want it has been postponed, postponed, postponed to the point I can’t even remember what all I was going to say.
Confused? Let me elaborate.
Given the overabundance of information available to us on the internet these days, one might have thought any image could be retrieved on Google Image Search given the right amount of prompting and key-wording. No.
Last week I spent approximately two hours trying to find a picture of a bright green silk skirt Carrie wears on Sex and the City during the episode she visits Aiden’s cabin. I was able to track down just about every piece of information available on this scene, except a picture of the damn skirt. Which I can now tell you is a “vivid green Vivienne Westwood with a bustle at the back hem” seen on Episode 57, Season 4, entitled “Sex and the Country”.
The inability to remember life before the internet has left me with a sense of entitled regarding any and all public information, as well as a frightening amount of private information (thank you Facebook). I am vexed. If anyone can find a picture of the skirt on the internet, you win a million dollars. In the meantime I will try to remember what the hell I was going to say about it.
I sing to my dog. Not only sing, but incorporate her into the songs.
“Her name is Ruby and she dances on the sand” and “Eye of the Ruby” are among my favorites.
That is all.
PS, I dedicate #26 to Ivy, for being thoughtful and tagging me in her “10 Things” list. Also because we both sing bad but enjoy it oh-so much. I too watch American Idol with awe and envy.
1. I clench my teeth when watching suspenseful movies, as well as when I cut with scissors and staples things.
2. One of the qualities I appreciate most in others is brutal honesty. Blunt, biting truths. The inability to bite one’s tongue. I welcome it and revel in it.
3. This may be due to the fact that I have never been able to fully accomplish this, always being bound to a PC existence and a need to make everyone like me. I do need everyone to like me. It’s a disease.
4. I like talking shit about people. I talk a lot of shit. This incorporates both the previous statements because A) I need to trust the people I talk shit with, so if I know they are brutally honest I know they won’t lie to me and B) It is said that to have social power is to be the person people bring gossip to. Gossip is power and people will use it as currency to elevate themselves. I am not afraid to admit these truths.
5. I am not afraid to portray myself in an unflattering light. You may think this may be counterproductive to my need to be liked, but the truth is I only want to be liked as I truly am. It means nothing to be liked only for someone you project to be. That’s why I never question what I wear, or ask anyone else’s opinion when shopping.
6. I currently have a pepperoni pizza stain on the inside of my shirt. Yes. It fell between the boobs and neon orange grease can be seen on the shelf of my undershirt (you know those ones that come with the USELESS built-in pseudo training bra?)
7. I consider myself an extremely creative person, yet I had no idea how to start my 25 things. I cheated and stole ideas from my friends. I read somewhere this is what defines true creativity- the ability to reuse and recycle ideas and never to conceive of them independent of outside influence.
8. I hate your air freshener. I don’t care what scent it is, what holiday it is celebrating, how much it costs. It is gross. Chelsea, your house/apartments always smell like laundry and you are the only one I am not disgusted by.
9. I miss being an insomniac. I miss having time to think.
10. I am convinced that of the three sisters, I would be the one to turn to a life of drugs and crime, if given the lack of proper upbringing. I feel certain nature has predisposition me to addiction and nurture is keeping me on the straight and narrow.
11. I am all about subtle, dry humor. Bill Murray will always epitomize what it means to be truly funny. Humor should be effortless. I for one can say with absolute certainty that I have never been funny on purpose. It is always without preconception and involuntary self-victimization. But I am perfectly content to always being laughed at and never with.
12. I hate when people say “I love to laugh”. No shit, really? I can’t believe we have that in common!!
13. I think I am an asshole. A lot of people think I am too nice. I think most of who I appear to be is a gross miscalculation on my part and trying to normalize the swings of crazy that define my existence.
14. I stock pile hot chocolate mix. Right now I have six different brands of unused containers and packets and enough to last me at least two months if I drank 8 ounces every day. I often wonder if this is fallout from my grandparent’s Great Depression mentality of stock piling all things necessary and valuable to their survival.
15. The thing I fantasize about most is buying a house. Owning a house, remodeling a house. Paint samples, new tiles, fixtures and fresh green sod laying in squares in the back yard. I think this means I am getting old. But I say it is apartment living that is getting old.
16. Twenty-five is way too many things to know about a person.
17. I am bound by a sort of consumerism I find both repulsive and addictive. When I don’t have something to buy, something I want, I feel depressed. Lackluster.
18. The only Yankee Candle scent I like is Willow Breeze. It is blue and it smells like laundry. Big shocker.
19. I have a strong desire to be, yet never actually will be, a perfume person. I would like to become one before or soon after I have kids one day so that my kids can remember me from their childhood the same way I remember my mom. Fancy and dressed up to go out with my dad, coming home from a Christmas party and whisping us up in her arms, her clothing cold from the winter air, and her hug smelling like Ralph Lauren Romance.
20. I do actually want to have kids. I know no one may believe me, but I swear it. I just don’t want them yet. Or any time soon. I don’t want them until I can know in my heart that I am 100% ready, excited, happy to have them. Because right now I have too much else I want to do and my heart is filled with 99% horror at the prospect.
21. My first pet was a cat named Melissa Michelle. I got her when I was five and when I was about twelve she was crushed to death in our garage door. I believe it is for this reason I am officially a dog person, although for the first twelve pre-tragedy years of my life I was 100% on team cat.
22. Out of the top five angriest moments of my life, four of them involved Nintendo. At least two involved Super Mario World. Please don’t ever ask me to play.
23. I have no respect for good books. I read 60 pages in, I forget they exist. Some of the best works of our generation have been collecting dust in my nightstand for years. Sorry Augusten Burrows.
24. Jesus, two more things? In the words of Bridget Jones, “I will always be just a little bit fat”. Why? Because I can never get my self-esteem to dip low enough for any prolonged amount of time to give me the drive and stamina to go that extra mile and lose that last ten pounds. Just nope, never gonna happen.
25. It is past my bedtime and it is only 11:22. A piece of the inner me dies daily. See you at 7 am tomorrow morning.