Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Notes on the Democratic Response

The democratic response:
  • What is up with Tim Kaine's left eyebrow? It's got a life completely separate from the rest of him. I think it wants to be free of his face or something.
  • He totally needs speech training.
  • Yay to saying the new Medicare drug plan sucks!
  • Kaine also seems to be missing his upper lip. Does that mean he's bound to be President too?
  • These comments are shorter because:
    • The speech was shorter
    • I'm almost done with my third martini
    • I'm talking to ppl on AIM
    • I like the Dems better!

Notes from the State of the Union

Notes from the State of the Union:

  • Every President always says "The state of our union is strong!" Can't anyone be honest ever?
  • Less than 2 minutes before a "September the Eleventh" reference.
  • Every year Bush wears a blue tie and Cheney and Other Old Dude behind Bush wear red ones.
  • I think Lieberman looks like a frog. Whitney thinks he looks like a turtle.
  • Bush appears to have eaten his own upper lip.
  • 3 Democrats applauded Bush's urge to reauthorize the Patriot Act. One was Lieberman. Lieberman is Bush's Bitch.
  • Bush often looks when giving public addresses as if he might cry at any moment.
  • "Freedom is on the march." I hate this phrase. Really? Where's it going? Because it sure seems to be leaving here. (See Patriot Act.)
  • "Congress did not act last year on my proposal to fix Social Security." And ALL the Dems give a standing O! Too FUNNY! Bush was pissed.
  • Oh crap! Refill martini or continue to rubberneck on the train wreck?
  • Increase in Ethanol dependency-well hell I guess he's got to throw as many dogs a bone as possible.
  • No Child Left Behind is a success?? Um, did he speak to anyone like teachers, school administrators, local school boards about this?
  • That's right! You ALL better applaud Sandra Day O'Connor!
  • Ok I've gotta get another martini!
  • Comment from my niece after watching me watching: "This is like a comedy for you."
  • Kinda short! Didn't even get to finish my second martini!
  • The postgame commentary is fun to see. For like 5 minutes all the networks fumble a bit until they all figure out what the message will be, then they all spout the same opinions.
  • I'm having a third martini.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Non Sequiturs, Vol. III

I may have to start boycotting the Weather Channel web site. The last two times I’ve gone to it they have a web version of that nasty commercial where the little goblins peel up some guy’s ugly big toenail and climb right in. That is the worst commercial ever and I’d like to meet the advertising exec that came up with that idea so I could punch him. It gives me the willies every time I see it on tv and no commercial prior or since has been able to accomplish that. It does not make me want to buy toe fungus ointment.

My dog loves the snow. When it snows she sits by the door begging to go out and when she gets out there she runs around like a puppy instead of an old lady of 9 that she is. My favorite part is when she lays on her back in the middle of the snow and wiggles her torso this way and that. I say she’s making Snow Doggies.

There is a man that sometimes stands in the grass at the far corner of the student lot at school and plays his bagpipes. I imagine that his horrid wife who has no sense of his bagpiping talent sends him away to this isolated spot to pursue his bagpiping dreams. Don’t worry, Bagpiping Man! I respect your talents! If your wife kicks you out, I’ll be your roommate and you can totally bagpipe night and day in our new place.

Hugo Chavez is the man! I would totally do him if I was ever in Venezuela. El Comandante, I’m yours!

I love Animal Planet’s World’s Funniest Animals! Those animals are fricking hilarious!

One reason I love Sex and the City is because the characters are flawed. Carrie in particular every once in awhile has these lapses in her moral conscience that some people on a high horse would say are big even though she’s not overall a bad person. I get that totally.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

My To-Do List Leaves Me Depressed

Today finds me feeling kinda depressed. Maybe this is because my new fuck buddy cancelled on me for tonight. I did put on some new fuzzy pj bottoms awhile ago with Eeyore on them, and their fuzziness cheers me. Not as much as a nice, good lay would, I grant you that. But still, today I feel I must take comfort in the little things.

Spent a bit of time taking pics of my pussy with my pocket pc/camera. (Oh, you dirty boys! I meant my pussy cat!) Tried to take a couple of self portraits too but the camera makes my face look elongated and the lighting inside isn't right. I'm too depressed to go outside today. Once in awhile I need to just wallow in the depression.

I fear the depression stems from an overwhelming list of things I must do:
  1. Pay the DMV $200
  2. Fill out financial aid forms so I can owe money to the government
  3. Read lots of articles and chapters in my texts for school
  4. Clip the dog's nails
  5. Watch about 8 hours of past episodes of all my favorite shows that I recorded
  6. Send a belated birthday card to my friend Eli
  7. Laundry!
  8. Refill the dog's food container
  9. Oops, how bout buy food to refill the container with??
  10. Buy notebooks for all my classes this semester
  11. Pay bills
  12. Win lottery so I can pay bills
  13. Clean bedroom
  14. Throw away dead flowers from my birthday
  15. Feed myself
  16. Decide whether to follow Good Angel's or Bad Angel's advice re: a moral dilemma
  17. Put the splint back on my ankle, that I should have had on all day long
  18. Empty out my inbox (current total: 101 unread messages; 229 total messages to be sorted and/or deleted, mostly from the last 2 months)
  19. Apply for the Masters in Survey Research
  20. Copy a sample contract for my Orgs and Mgmt application group
Wow, that just might be a complete list. But see, instead of tackling these tasks one by one, I choose to wallow in self-pity and do something completely unproductive with my day, like read another chunk of Wicked and eventually try out a potatoes au gratin/tuna casserole dish I've invented in my head.

Okay. I will make it my goal to accomplish at least...8, part of 11, and 20 tonight. Accomplishing 8 without doing 9 may be tricky but my fuzzy pjs feel so good I really don't want to go to the store...what could pass for dog food for one night? Hmmm. I will think on this.

Tee Hee! I Have a Fan!

Proof that I am a depraved and lonely soul: I got a fan IM a week ago and have been corresponding with this man ever since on a daily basis. Aha, I must be crazy, I'm sure you are thinking. And perhaps I am.

But this man is nice and I find it very easy to talk to him about lots of stuff. Perhaps, you may be saying, this is because he has read all about my life on my blog and therefore knows me in a way I don't know him. This would be true.

And perhaps you are saying, Tina, ever heard of stalkers? Why yes, I would answer, I have. Even had one of my very own a few years back. But this man is from California, thus lowering the stalker quotient fairly significantly, I would argue. Though he is coming to New York soon on "business" . . . hmmm. Stalker business perhaps? You may be saying to yourself. Well I really doubt it, though Connecticut is close to New York.

Well you must all promise to call the police for me if there is suddenly an inordinate amount of time in between posts. Kidding, of course! This guy is very sweet and not at all creepy. A great new long distance friend. And while I know that part of this does come from his having read my blog, there is a definite connection there, an ability to communicate on a deeper level than we should be able to after only a week of knowing each other.

Hmm....I wonder if by posting this news I am opening the door for my thousands of other fans to IM me as well...a risk I will take, I suppose. But don't worry, Jerry. You're the first and you will always be the best!

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Terry Pratchett Quotes

I'm feeling kind of petulant of late and not much like sharing my thoughts. Part of that comes from having spent too much time laying around being sick and/or injured lately probably. Anyway, as a bit of filler for my loyal readers, here are some quotes from one of my most-read authors, Terry Pratchett.

On Government and Politics:

  • Ankh-Morpork had dallied with many forms of government and had ended up with that form of democracy known as One Man, One Vote. The Patrician was the Man; he had the Vote.
  • Lord Vetinari won't stop at sarcasm. He might use...irony.
  • He did of course sometimes have people horribly tortured to death, but this was considered to be perfectly acceptable behavior for a civic ruler and generally approved of by the overwhelming majority of citizens. [Footnote: The overwhelming majority of citizens being defined in this case as everyone not currently hanging upside down over a scorpion pit]
  • The Patrician was a pragmatist. He never tried to fix things that worked. Things that didn't work, however, got broken.
  • Taxation, gentlemen, is very much like dairy farming. The task is to extract the maximum amount of milk with the minimum amount of moo. And I am afraid to say that these days all I get is moo.
  • It’s amazing how good governments are, given their track record in almost every other field, at hushing up things like alien encounters. One reason may be that the aliens themselves are too embarrassed to talk about it. Representatives of several hundred space-going races have taken to hanging out, unsuspected by one another, in rural corners of the planet and, as a result of this, keep on abducting other would-be abductors. The planet Earth is now banned to all alien races until they can compare notes and find out how many, if any, real humans they have actually got. It is gloomily suspected that there is only one - who is big, hairy, and has very large feet. The truth is out there, but lies are in your head.
  • On the fifth day the Governor of the town called all the tribal chieftains to an audience in the market square, to hear their grievances. He didn't always do anything about them, but at least they got heard and he nodded a lot, and everyone felt better about it at least until they got home. This is politics.
On War and the Military:

  • The sergeant put on the poker face which had been handed down from NCO to NCO ever since one proto-amphibian told another, lower-ranking proto-amphibian, to muster a squad of newts, and Take That Beach!
  • The consensus seemed to be that if really large numbers of men were sent to storm the mountain, then enough might survive the rocks to take the citadel. This is essentially the basis of all military thinking.
  • Winners never talk about glorious victories. That’s because they're the ones who see what the battlefield looks like afterwards. It’s only the losers who have glorious victories.
On Religion and the Afterlife:

  • The Gods Of The Disc have never bothered much about judging the souls of the dead, and so people only go to hell if that’s where they believe, in their deepest hearts, that they deserve to go. Which they can't do if they don't know about it. This explains why it is important to shoot missionaries on sight.
  • What our ancestors would really be thinking, if they were alive today, is: "Why is it so dark in here?"
  • When you hit your thumb with an 8-pound hammer, it’s nice to be able to blaspheme. It takes a very strong, special minded atheist to jump up and down, with their hand clasped under their other armpit and shout "Oh random fluctuations in the space time continuum!"

Thursday, January 26, 2006

I Complain About Being Sick and Cry

Dear readers, I am hurting. I'm not talking about my ankle. I can deal with pain. I have had root canals without being numb. I kid you not. Not saying I enjoy pain but I know how to tolerate it. No, I am suffering from being worn down.

Back around my birthday I contracted strep throat. That sucked. I was on antibiotics and felt better after a few days, though. Sore throats are annoying, especially on me because I have ginormous tonsils and when they swell even a bit they both touch my epiglottis. It's not pretty, readers. Not pretty at all.

A few days after my sore throat went away, I came down with a bit of a cold. Head congestion, runny nose. You know. I had, I must confess, also forgotten to take my antibiotic for a day, so I thought perhaps I had a relapse from the strep. Once I was back on the antibiotic I felt better for a day, then crappy again for another few days. I stayed home in bed for a bit and felt mostly better by the time my sangria and stinky cheese night with Whitney came along.

Then Tuesday night I fell and sprained my ankle. There was a crack when I fell and it really hurt that night but I gritted my teeth and got through it. Then my arms got sore from the crutches but again, annoying but bearable.

Last night I fell asleep at 11:30 pm, which is a minor miracle for me of late. I slept the whole night through. I should have known something was wrong right then. This morning I got up to shower and realized that my whole body hurt. It ached so much my ankle was no longer my greatest source of pain. And I was chilled.

I took a hot shower, hoping to feel better, but I did not. Temp when I was getting dressed: 99.0. Not high I know but what you don't know is that my normal temp is about 96.6, so I really had a 2.4 degree fever. I still felt that I needed to go to school to work on my graduate assistantship because I just had not been doing that job as well as I should have.

I got there 30 minutes late and cried. That was when I knew that I was sick. I stuck it out for 2 hours and came home. I've been in bed ever since. My whole body aches and my fever has been gradually increasing. I cry a lot. Because I can stand pain. I can stand lots of pain.

The one physical thing I cannot stand is fever with that raw skin feeling of whole body aches that comes with it. I went through a root canal without the benefit of novacaine and never shed a tear, never said ouch, never even flinched.

But here I am with a fever and crying like a baby. All I want is someone to take care of me and at the same time I want no one around me.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

I'm a Klutz

Feeling very nauseous. Been on vicodin for nearly 24 hours. Last night I fell down the stairs. One leg went up behind my body and there was a snap. Ankle and foot hurt like hell and we worried that it might have been broken so off we went to the local er for xrays. Nothing broken so that was a relief. Just a bad sprain.

Got crutches and this neat little gel splint you put in the freezer before wearing. Crutches suck. I have bruises under my arms from using them all day today. For 2 days I can't use that leg at all, and that really sucks. Really really sucks.

Went to class anyway, even though I was high. Really don't know how anyone manages to become addicted to this crap. It does help my pain but it makes me feel sooooo sick. Sick to my stomach, spaced out, just all around uncomfortable. All I can do is sit here and wait for the crap to wear off.

And no, I was not drunk when it happened. I do, however, fall down the stairs relatively often and trip over absolutely nothing now and again, and stumble when getting up from a chair fairly frequently. I get a concussion at least once or twice a year. I sprained my wrist last spring. I get lots of bumps and bruises. It's really surprising to me that I have managed in all my life to only break one tiny bone in my pinkie, given my total lack of coordination.

And when I have an injury such as the one I currently have, I often have to answer the question of whether I was drunk when it happened, which I understand to an extent, given that yes, I do like to indulge now and again. But so far the answer to all such questions is no, I'm not drunk. Hence why I chose the web address of this blog.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

January 24, 2006: Day of Infamy

This is the story of the first time in my life that I can remember my procrastination finally catching up with me. It all started in July when I purchased my new car. I traded in my old truck and the dealership gave me the plates and a title transfer and told me to bring it to the DMV. I didn't. I was always going to do it next week and then one day the bag the plates are in slipped under the driver's seat of the car and, well, out of sight=out of mind and that was that.

End of November I get a notice from the DMV that since insurance has been cancelled on my truck I am going to either have to pay a fine of $200 or send in proof of title transfer and a receipt for returning the plates. I was in the middle of end of term papers and then finals so I figured I'd do it in a few weeks when things settled down.

A few weeks go by and it's the week before Christmas. I pull out the notice and discover that I had a 20 day deadline which has now passed. So I figure, well since the deadline has already passed, I might as well just wait until next week after all the Christmas excitement is over. So I put it away for another week. (Also in fairness, friends such as Whitney and Eli told me to just take care of it before Christmas. They told me so!)

Week after Christmas and I get a new notice in the mail. My registration is officially being suspended and there are two ways to avoid it: Pay the $200 fine or schedule a hearing. Then. Then I lost this notice which had the phone number to schedule the hearing and every few days I would decide to do a cursory search for it, until last night I finally tore my place apart and discovered that it had officially vanished. So today I buckled down and searched for the appropriate phone number.

When I called I discovered that procrasinating on turning in your old plates is akin to murder. I'm not sure why they haven't come to cart me away yet because I have committed a sin, I tell you. I am not allowed a hearing. Hearings are not for the likes of such evil-doers as me. The DMV hates me!

So now my procrastination has cost me $200. I suck. In all my life it never caught up with me; I was even voted class excuse-maker in high school. But today will live in infamy as the day Tina was finally punished for her procrastination.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Thanks for the Freedom, Whit!

Oh, and Whit gave me my Christmas and birthday presents while I was there. For Christmas I got this lovely scarf/hat/glove set. I just love those things! They are the only decent thing about winter as far as I'm concerned, and this one is gorgeous, carefully selected by Jenn and her to match just about every color in my wardrobe. For my birthday I got the Harry Potter DVDs. This is by far the best birthday gift I have received. Why is this so, you ask? Since surely being the huge HP fan I am, I must already own them.

Well. you are right. I do already own them. Unfortunately, they have become a hostage in Greg's sick and twisted determination to force me to be his friend. See, he has on numerous occasions told me that I must come to his house to get them. He is keeping them, he says, so that I will be forced to visit him. And yet he has not invited me over and almost every time we talk we get into fights. It got to the point where I stopped initiating conversations with him.

Why then, you might ask, don't I just block him on AIM and not answer if he calls? Well, he doesn't call so I'm spared that but I just, well, I can't block anyone. I didn't even block that lying friend I told you all about. I have an absurd need to never stop talking to anyone anymore.

Sometimes Greg is really mean to me. After the first time (a long argument about how much I used to like him), I sent him an email with examples copy pasted and said I didn't want to talk to him right now. That night he IMed me and did not even bring up how mean he had been, just said I "misunderstood him," a favorite thing of his to tell me. When I said I really wasn't wanting to talk to him still because he had been quite mean, he said, "Oh, just ignore last night. I was overtired." Never apologized. That was the day that any remaining thoughts of oh, maybe down the road one day . . . vanished. The lust scale was officially at -3.

Until this point, I thought hey, we can be friends and blah, blah, blah. But now I had seen a new person: A quite pompous and egotistical boy who, when confronted with anything not to his liking, blames others. Yet after I cooled off I did still talk to him (whenever he initiated) because he is funny. Perhaps this is the only remaining redeeming quality I saw in him. Well, that and the fact that I was eventually going to have to see him again if I ever wanted my DVDs back.

So the other day another argument was sparked off his desire to do some sort of dating website with a male and female perspective, which I had agreed to do awhile ago. I said sure, whatever, and he sent me his first post that I was supposed to respond to. After a few days when I was bored I did. Next day he sends me this list of things that I'm going to need to change to conform to his vision for the site. (Almost all of which, I can tell you as someone who spent years in undergrad studying writing, he was completely off on.)

So I told him I didn't think I could do this since he represented himself as looking for a partner and now he was talking to me as if I was an unpaid employee, a situation I am not interested in pursuing. Oh no, he said. He wanted a partner, so long as she completely agreed with everything he said and thought. Earth to Greg: That is called an employee. No one on a level playing field agrees to everything Sir Gregory says. I restrained myself the entire time to the best of my ability and had many such thoughts but did not share them with him.

My reward? Being called "emotionally immature" by this 23-year-old little shit. Did I say, well yeah, of course I am, or else why would I have ever hooked up with a 23-year-old? Why would my friends almost uniformly be younger than me? I have repeatedly admitted in my blog and to the world that I am now living through my twenties in a way that I did not get to do previously.

And did I say, Yes, I am. And you, my friend, are a pompous ass? No, I said none of this. I did not sink to his throwing out of cutting remarks because the fact that I knew but couldn't bother to share with him is that no matter how emotionally immature I may be (a title I wear proudly; it's even in my profile. See?), anyway, the fact I knew is that while emotionally immature I may be, I am not as emotionally immature as he is. I can rise above this crap and I never after we split up took things out on him the way he had been on me lately.

And of course I found his comment twice as amusing because before he ever even said that I had been telling my friends that while yes, boys his age might make fun toys, I could never again actually attempt to date anyone under 26 at least. (Of course, this revelation didn't stop me from having a fun little New Years with a 21 year old. But that was fun, not dating.)

So that's not the whole shitty story of Greg and me in the last month but you can see how long all that was. I'll spare you the rest. Unfortunately, poor Whitney needed to suffer through it all, and every time she'd say, "Just stop talking to him," I'd say, "I can't. He has all my HP DVDs." So now Whitney has given me the bestest birthday present ever:

I am free! I have my DVDs and I am free!!! Whitney rocks!

Whit and I Have a Sleepover

Saturday Whit and I decided to make sangria and eat stinky cheese. I was responsible for the wine. Not being a great wine connoisseur, I went to the snotty wine shop in Farmington and asked the guy there what was a good sangria wine and also for a good White Riesling. He asked whether I wanted German or domestic, so I thought, Aha! I will get German and be all sophisticated! So, with my sophisticated wine and the cute little chocolate mousse mice that I bought from the snotty grocery store in Farmington, I headed to Whit's.

We had a very fun night. We went to an excellent pizza restaurant near her that she wasn't aware was excellent so she will be eternally grateful for my having introduced her to this place. What makes an excellent pizza in my book is fresh. Fresh dough, fresh sauce, fresh toppings--especially the mozzarella must be fresh.

Whit commented on this man that comes out of the woods near her apartment and rides his horse around the area. Apparently, on his latest outing, he was wearing Navy dress blues. Hmm, I thought. How hot. But then she said he was old so no, not hot. I asked the waitress if she knew the man on the horse and she did. I think Whit was relieved to finally have independent corroboration on this thing because she suspected we all thought she was going mad.

When we got back to the apartment we cracked open the pitcher of sangria we had made. It was a bit bitter so we added Sweet n Low and cherry 7up and some vodka. That made it better. We had lots more, watched Monster In Law, and then started drunk dialing. First on the list: Ben, since we have both received drunk calls from him. But alas, Lord Ben did not deem to answer his phone. Next we called Eli, who amused us for at least an hour until my cell battery went dead.

Sunday we went to IHop but they had a long wait so I called Timmy from my old job and asked where else we should go. (I did not just randomly call him; he lives in the area so I thought he might have a clue.) On his advice, we went to a Denny's one town over. I was quite happy with my scrambled egg dish. We went and got a car charger for my cell phone and made fun keys at Lowe's. They are fun because they are Wacky Keys, with designs covering the surface of the key. Whit suggested Ikea and I suggested mani-pedis. We went with my suggestion but it took us an hour of driving to remember that the only place open on a Sunday must be in the mall so we finally ended up there.

After that, we parted ways for the day. Overall, a quite enjoyable little sleepover, though I fear at some point during the wee hours of the morning I woke up screaming, "YES!" (I was very excited about a dream I was having.) (No, not that kind of dream, you sicko!)

Oh, and the stinky cheese was very good.

P.S. For male readers, if you'd like you can throw in a pillow fight in our lingerie. Of course, that didn't really happen. Or did it??

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Notes on Garlic, Kay, and Sluts Named Tina

Yesterday I ate two things: Garlic and herb Cabot cheese with crackers, and Cheese Maki. Today I discovered my mistake in eating the garlic and herb Cabot cheese. I am currently farting and breathing the odor of garlic. And I'm convinced I've become one of those people--you know the ones--that just emanate the smell of garlic right out of their pores. I made Kristy smell me and she claims that my fears are unfounded, but I'm not sure I believe her.

Anyhow, if it's true, I feel for Whitney, who has already committed to spending all night with me. We are going to drink wine and eat stinky cheese so maybe the stinky cheese will cover up my garlic emittances. (Yes, I am about to brave drinking again after my last outing almost a week ago.) Also, we are going to drink rum, vodka and Bailey's, so maybe the odor of alcohol will throw down with the garlic and come out victorious. Note to alcohol fumes: I suggest the classic smashing garlic over the head with a chair.

One of my new favorite reads is Kay Richardson's blog. Kay is a British actor who is really funny, and yesterday he announced that he has huge news, and he won't tell us until 25 different people post comments to his blog. So please, friends. I'm asking you to go visit his blog and post a comment so I can find out this latest news.

Something else I've been meaning to talk about for some time: My name. My mother wanted to name me Tia (which, yes, I know is Spanish for auntie) but my father would not let her because kids would make fun of me. So in the infinite logic of this man, he said my name should be Christine and everyone could call me Tina. (Why not Christina and everyone could call me Tina is a question I have been asked many times and cannot answer, dear readers.)

Now here I am twenty-odd years later called Tina and forced to give the above story every time someone asks, "Why do people call you Tina if your name's not Christina?" Now, on top of all this, I am saddled with a name that will forever go down in television and movie history as the name of a slut. Think about it, and pay attention from now on. Any fictional character I've ever come across named Tina is always a slut. I'm not saying I'm not a slut but do I have to be so true to advertising? I mean, I'd so much rather be called Tia, which sounds more exotic. That way, my behavior (or behaviour, for Kay) would be chalked up to this bohemian type personality associated with the name Tia instead of the plain old sluttiness associated with the name Tina.

So that's my lobby for wanting to change my name to Tia.

Also, a little post script to the birthday gift entry: Nicole got me a present which I have yet to receive because it was in a gift bag in her car at the casino. When she got to the car, she removed the present and got sick in the gift bag. Glad I wasn't the only puker that night.

Friday, January 20, 2006

True and Not True Confessions of a Sick Person

Okay so I've been home all day in bed being gross since I'm sick. I ODed on expired Robitussin earlier in the day so that was fun. Knocked me out for a bit. Now I'm waiting for some Nyquil to be delivered to me along with Japanese food for dinner.

So I have a fun game. I'm going to list a bunch of things. Some of them I have done and some I have not. This way I can play true confessions without you knowing which is which, since some of you know me in real life and I don't want you to know for sure what I might have done.

I once . . .

  • was in a ltr with one man and got engaged to another
  • had one penis in each hand at the same time
  • blew up the mailbox of a racist family
  • sprayed weed killer all over the lawn of an enemy
  • had sex in the exercise room of a hotel
  • hit someone's car in a parking lot and didn't leave a note
  • used someone's toothbrush to clean the toilet
So okay...some or none of that is true. You figure it out.

On Comments

Just to clarify, I'm not naming names here but some people have told me they were afraid to post comments (Whitney!) because they didn't know how I'd react. If I'd get mad or disown them or write a nasty post about them or something...so just for the record, comments are fine. I can promise not to do any of the aforementioned. Though I can't promise not to turn my sarcasm toward commentators.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

What I Got for my Birthday

An alphabetical listing of everything I got for my birthday:

  • Coffee, Dunkin Donuts (from a stranger)
  • Daffodils, potted (my favorite flower)
  • Dinner, at Margarita's
  • Family Guy, 1st two seasons
  • Flowers, adorable assortment in cute vase
  • Guinness, 2 pints
  • Irish Car Bombs, 2 or possibly more
  • Long Island Iced Tea, 7 or possibly more
  • Mohegan Sun Quarter bucket, used for puking
  • Mohegan Sun Water bottle, used to rehydrate after puking
  • Pirates of the Carribbean, in which Johnny Depp is the hottest pirate ever
  • Pocket PC/Camera phone, from myself
  • Pounds, 2 gained by Mom (awesome for a cancer patient!)
  • Red Death, 1 or possibly more
  • Skeletons from the Closet, from the Grateful Dead (replacing my worn disc)
  • Son of a Witch, novel by Gregory Maguire
  • Strep, of the throat variety
  • Tulips, bouquet of
  • "Welcome to our pad" sign with hanging frog, my liking frogs requiring someone to feel the need to buy me something frog every birthday and Christmas
  • Wheelchair, to take me out of Mohegan Sun
  • Wicked, novel by Gregory Maguire (must be read before Son of a Witch)
  • Zits, a wonderful little chin cluster of (<--sarcasm)

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Notes From Start of Semester

Alissa told me that she had been feeling a lot of pressure to get married because she really wanted a mixer, but her parents got her a mixer for Christmas so she no longer feels pressured to get married.

There are some new people in our department this semester. One boy is really cute so yay!

Ben held true to his word and did not share my embarrassing Mohegan Sun trip with our classmates, although I did direct anyone interested to the blog to read all about it.

Whitney has informed me that she and Jake decided that we need to have a second birthday party for me at Mohegan Sun so they can go to that one. I'm all for it as long as I don't have to leave in a wheelchair again. I'll just say no to the Irish Car bombs and lay off the Long Island Iced Teas.

We might be going to Seattle for spring break, and we might take a foreign language pass/fail so we can justify a trip to Europe this summer.

Matt's sperm is still on the ceiling! Amazing!

Monday, January 16, 2006

Drunk Tina at Mohegan Sun

So last night was my birthday celebration with my friends. We went down to Mohegan Sun. The plan was to meet at Bubba's Big Barbecue for some awesome cheesy grits, bbq chicken, and Not Yo Grandma's Iced Teas. Unfortunately, I got there late and an event had just let out of the coliseum so there was like an hour wait. So Stacy, Dave, and I (the only ones there so far) decided to go to Lucky's Lounge to wait, but when we got there we decided to just eat there.

I had an Absolut Vanilla and ginger ale while we waited for our pizza, except they were really backed up in the kitchen. So I got a Long Island Iced Tea when Nicole and her boyfriend Tim showed up (which Tim bought for me; I love my birthday!). A few minutes later, Luci called to say they just got there so we moved to a table to make room for them. When Luci, her husband Mike, and her friend Matt got there, Mike bought me another Long Island.

After we finished eating, we all except Dave did Irish Car Bombs after which I had another Long Island. While I was sipping on that one, Ben showed up with his girlfriend, Katie. I bought them each a drink since Ben is a cheap bastard and would have waited to drink until we went onto the casino floor where the drinks are free. Ben brought my coat out to my car for me except I had to go with him since I was too drunk to describe where I was parked. It was easier to just show him. When we got there I had him move my car closer to the entrance, which he wisely realized I was too drunk to do myself, so I got to sit in the backseat of my car. It's pretty awesome back there!

When I got back to the bar (after nearly getting lost on the way back), Mike bought me a Red Death, and when I was halfway through with that, I went to the bar with Ben and Katie again, and bought myself another Long Island. This was the point at which I began to make drunk phone calls. I called Whitney and told her right in front of Ben that his girlfriend is hot and I don't know why she's with Ben. (So sorry, Ben!) I also called Jake and yelled at him for not coming to my party. (They never showed because Whit's car was stuck and Jake had to stay really late at work.)

From the point of talking to Jake I have no memory of the rest of the evening except one little snippet I'll mention in a second. I have, however, pieced together bits of the next couple of hours from other people. While my sister was gone bringing Dave home (he had to work the next day), I apparently started chatting up strange men at the bar so they'd buy me drinks. I got someone to buy me another Irish Car Bomb. I was dancing for awhile.

I got Ben, Katie, Mike, and Stacy to come gambling with me. When we got to the quarter slots, I told the boys they had to go "over there" so Katie and I could have some girl talk, and when they did, I decided to start gambling. I got about $1.50 into a machine before I got sick. The casino employees brought a giant quarter bucket for me to use and I did the first time. Then Stacy went to go get the car and apparently at that point I no longer used the bucket but just threw up on myself.

The very nice casino employees put me in a wheelchair and with my puke bucket and a bottle of Mohegan Sun water wheeled me out of the casino. This is the other tidbit I remember: I have a flash of being pushed in a wheelchair and looking down and seeing puke all over my sweater. I also remember begging Ben to not tell everyone at school about that. Then my memory leaves me again until about 6:30 this morning.

We got to Stacy's place around midnight where she, being the most awesome sister in the world, washed my clothes for me while I made a few more drunk calls at 2:30 am. I only know about these because I checked my call log this morning. I called Whitney, who didn't answer the phone and Chris, who did. (I know because I asked them both about it today.)

Also somewhere along the way I must have fallen at least once because I have a sore bump on my head, and my knee and my ribs hurt. So yeah, overall, a fun party. As Luci said to me today, "You know it was an awesome birthday if you can't remember it."

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Mouse Update-He Goes to Church.

Chloe the cat brought the mouse up onto my bed in her mouth (still alive) at around 3:45 this morning. Lucky for me I was still awake, preventing her from dropping it on my head or something. So I brought this little plastic terrarium I used to keep a lizard in when I was a kid and put the opening on top around Chloe's mouth and forced her to drop the mouse inside. I then closed the lid and the mouse is currently on the top shelf of my closet.

I am going to go turn it loose in the church parking lot at the end of my street. They are a crazy church. They come out of the front door during services and blow into some kind of animal's horn. They used to belong to some conference of Baptist churches or something but they got excommunicated, or whatever it is that conferences of churches do to kick out the crazies. My cousin from Florida once attended services there while visiting and said she'd never go back.

So they deserve the mouse. Maybe I'll even open the door and stick it inside. I already know I'm going to hell anyway.

Friday, January 13, 2006

The Turkish Gelato-Selling Dunkin Donuts

Turkey's been popping up all around me lately (the country, not the bird). Did you ever have a random thing that has just suddenly been referred to in various parts of your life? It was in a book I read, in a movie, on the news, and a friend mentioned it randomly. So last night I dreamed that I went to Turkey and I was supposed to meet Whit in Turkey at some cafe that had the decor of a patio/garden but only indoors.

But I got to Turkey way early so I decided to shop in the market area (which in my dream looked amazingly like Church Street in Burlington, VT, for anyone who's been there). I browsed the area, talking to the Turkish people, who were all very friendly, except this one beggar but they have those in the U.S. too so you can't blame that on Turkey. I was hugely thrilled to see that they had Dunkin Donuts in Turkey, and the sign was written in both Arabic and English. I was relieved to discover that most Turkish people spoke English, as I do not speak Turkish.

The line inside was huge, as it was a warm day and Dunkin Donuts in Turkey apparently sells gelato, which the native Turks swear by. Who knew gelato would be so huge in Turkey? The girl in front of me in line insisted that I must try it and the woman who owned the shop, when she found out I was from Connecticut insisted on giving me a sample of their special flavor, Connecticut Yankee Almond Joy.

Apparently, whoever had sold her the recipe swore it was based on an old Connecticut favorite candy. So I tried it; it was three colors: pink, then brown, then yellow. The pink and yellow tasted just like the raspberry and lemon cream fillings at the candy store I used to work for. The brown was a yummy chocolate flavor with a marshmallowy consistency. I tried explaining to the Turkish shop lady that while the flavors individually tasted similar to candies we sold in my old shop, that there is no "traditional candy" from Connecticut that combines these flavors. She was so disappointed. Oh, and it had no almond in it whatsoever.

But I did decide to get not only my usual French Vanilla cream only but also some Turkish Connecticut Yankee Almond Joy Gelato (with no almonds). And then I woke up. Never did get to meeting Whit.

Number of uses of variations on the word Turkey: 15

Thursday, January 12, 2006

I Become the Power Player

I had an interesting thing happen to me recently: The power position in a relationship of mine shifted. Now, of course not all relationships have a power player; in any completely healthy relationship, power is shared and not even really thought about at all. But we all have relationships, both romantic and platonic, in which power is not shared equally.

I was vaguely aware of this in the past; we all hear phrases like, "He wears the pants in that relationship" or "She's got him whipped (insert requisite whip snapping noise here)." But these are exaggerated examples of what is often a much more subtle thing. For example, one person wonders when the power player will call, while the power player isn't giving the first person a second thought.

So how does the power player become the power player? They are the one in a relationship that cares less, that is less invested in the other person, or at least they are the one that is better at hiding their needs and able to project a coolness that the second person does not feel. (In this second "hiding your needs" position, though, even though on the surface it appears differently, a person is not truly the power player because they need to be in that role.)

I don't remember ever thinking about the whole subject of power in a relationship much until just now, when I realized there had been a shift. I had become the power player where I once had not been. I've been the power player in other relationships, though I think in general I tend not to assume that role as a rule.

The thing with truly having the power position is that you don't really care that you have it. Yet, if you are in my position, where you see your role switch, there may be a mild satisfaction at discovering this new power, which I am feeling right now. But it's only mild, because I don't care enough for it to be more than mild. Hence, my being the new power player.

What am I trying to say here? I'm rambling more than usual. I don't know, just that it's interesting to experience such a shift in power, I guess.

The end of a not particularly inspirational blog entry.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

I Become Confused About Men

I've come to a realization about what guys mean to me right now. I am done with the one night stand/casual sex thing for now. I'm not saying I won't come back to that again; I mean, who knows? Two weeks from now I might be so horny I change my mind and have another fling, but I doubt it. (I mean, I can at least last a month.)

I'm not saying I'm looking only for the guy I'm going to marry or anything, just that I'm ready to at least attempt a relationship that might actually last a few months. Of course, I'm battling my inner demons on this one, because I'm still fearing commitment enough to not be willing to consider anything beyond a few months, maybe only two. Or maybe only one??

Geez, I suck. I need to get over this totally man-type fear of commitment.

Anyhow...all I know is that any guy who decides to date me right now is not gonna get lucky right away. Not saying I need to be in love for a guy to get lucky. I don't know, maybe I do. Maybe I don't. I am feeling so ambiguous right now. I know I'd at least wait until I knew he scored at least a 10 on the Futures Index. And that's with a mixed score on the Like and Lust Scales somewhere around 5 and 5, at least.

Oh what the hell do I know? At least, before I knew I only wanted two types of men. (For those of you that are slow to catch up, that's men I enjoy spending time with but don't find attractive, and men I find attractive but am not interested in platonically.) Now I don't know what I want at all. Guess I'm about where a lot of girls find themselves. Confused about men.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Happy Birthday to Me!

It's my birthday. I've decided not to get a year older yet though. I'm just gonna do this age over again. It's been a good age for me and I'm not ready to let it go yet.

I got to quit a job I hated, go back to school, which I love, make lots of new and awesome friends. Had some really great sex. Some shout outs to my friends:

Whit-Well, we all know how much I love Whit. She's already got her own entry. She's just super. I would have missed out on a really big thing if I never made friends with her.

Nicole-She was there for me throughout my breakup with the ex. She even called him when I needed to get my stuff back so I wouldn't have to talk to him. She has been my truest friend this year, has been there when I was at my worst and has laughed with me when I was at my best.

Luci-Another friend who has been there for me the whole time. I don't get to see or talk to her nearly as often as I'd like but every time I do see her, we really connect. We come from different worlds but we are so much alike it's kind of scary. And she didn't even get pissed at me for getting horrifically drunk and making an ass of myself at her wedding.

Eli-He is always around for me, and lets me complain as much as I need to. He is the most nonjudgemental, comforting and sympathetic man I know. I think I could talk to him about anything I ever needed to. And he sent me a birthday card! How awesome is that?

Mike-Mike and I don't talk as much as we used to anymore but when we talk we have some very interesting conversations. He has a point of view that is unique, and he offers honest advice that sometimes I might not want to hear but he's usually right.

And now I'm thinking, geez. Why did I even start this list? Because there are so many more people that I've grown to be friends with that the list could go on and on: Jenn, Alissa, Rachel, Linda, Matt, Chris, Stacey, Jake, Kim, Anne, Kate, and I'm sure I'm still missing a couple. All I can say is I love you all and each of you helps make my life complete.

I am very happy to be celebrating this birthday with so many friends, and with two wonderful sisters who are so different from each other and both so very special, and with parents who, yes, annoy me but I still love them and wouldn't trade them for the world.

Yes, it's been a very good year. Happy birthday to me!

Monday, January 09, 2006

Footnote on the Last Post

Of course, I surely was a self-righteous little bugger back then. Now this essay would have a much more world weary and sardonic tone I'm sure.

I Get In Touch With My Writing Roots

I wrote an essay as an undergrad that I was recently reminded of. I pulled it out and remembered that hey! I used to be a pretty good writer, and there's a reason I minored in writing. But now that I'm done patting myself on the back, I also decided to post this essay. Even though it's longer than most of my posts, now that I'm back in school I've been reminded that it is still relevant. So here it is:
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I am a student in an age when students have begun to take control of the classroom away from the teacher. Nowhere is this more evident than in colleges across the country where students have learned to manipulate teachers into giving them free rides because of all the “problems” we have that make it impossible to work. The work of excuse-making students is half-done before they even open their mouths. After all, sympathy is on our side. We are coming of age in a time of high drug use, teen pregnancy, anorexia, bulimia, and countless other problems that plague the youth of our society so it is easy for students to lament over their exaggerated problems to a professor. In fact, it is encouraged by a substance-abusing, overeating, undereating, depressed, hyperactive, neurotic, stressed-out, you-name-it-we-have-it society.

I have an acquaintance to whom many of these labels apply. “Ann” is a sometimes-anorexic, sometimes-bulimic, sometimes-depressed, sometimes-suicidal, sometimes-substance-abusing college junior. She slips in and out of these various identities with an ease that is frightening, but most of the time she is just plain normal. Do not misunderstand what I am about to say for lack of sympathy. I am truly sorry for Ann that she must fall into these labels to cover up what is surely a highly complex psychological problem.

Having issued the proper disclaimer, I must confess my disgust for Ann’s manipulation of her professors. Several times she has missed classes honestly due to these problems. When she explains to the professors, they are almost always very understanding. Yet much more often Ann brags to me about how she has missed classes, assignments, even a couple of exams because she would rather go out with her friends than do school work. “It’s so easy,” she tells me. “I just go in and tell them about my eating disorder and cry a lot, and I get excused.” She is careful never to miss too much of one course so that the teachers never get too suspicious.

There are those students who really have serious problems, and they deserve the teachers’ sympathy and generosity, but let’s not forget that it is generosity. There are also those students who make up problems to get out of assignments, and because they do not have these problems, they will never understand how inconsiderate they are being. Then there is Ann. She is both of these things, and as far as I’m concerned, she is the worst kind of person because she understands how real these problems are to those who have them, yet she exploits them anyway for her own gratification.

Ann feels that because of her suffering she has the right to lie. She refuses to see that she is demoralizing herself, that each time she lies about her problems, she totally undercuts the validity of every student who really was in the emergency room last night getting her stomach pumped, or really did have to go back into rehab. Soon professors will get wise and demand a note from the emergency room technician. As more students get caught in such lies, professors will become desensitized and less understanding of those who are telling the truth. A sad story and some tears won’t cut it anymore.

I wish I could say that I am exaggerating about Ann but I can’t. I wish I could say that she is an aberration, but she isn’t. “Bob,” another student who is a mutual friend of Ann and I, also expressed his distaste for her behavior to me. However, he chose a different way of dealing with it. He told me that if she can get away with such conduct, that he might as well get in on the action, and he has begun to use made-up problems to get an extra absence or two excused. Of course, he explained to me one day, he can’t say he’s anorexic because hardly any men have this disease. He prefers to use his family’s made-up problems, such as his father’s “drinking problem.”

Another classmate of mine, “Jane,” tells me because she hardly ever makes up excuses, that it is okay for her to do it once in awhile. Jane says that maybe once a year she lies to get out of class. My retort to this was, “If we all did it once a year, don’t you think that professors would get suspicious?”

She replied, “But we don’t all do it.”

Yes, Jane, but more and more of us are doing it every day, and some professors have begun to catch on. Last semester when I told my professor that I had to miss class because of a root canal, he said, “You better have a doctor’s note when you come back.” Some students to whom I voice my complaints tell me that I should mind my own business, that it’s not hurting me any, but this last example proves that it is my business because it is hurting me. Professors are beginning to harden. Granted, a root canal is not as big a deal as some people’s problems but this just illustrates that when something serious happens to any one of us, the sympathy may no longer be there because of students like Ann, Bob, and Jane, who lie to professors, and also because of all the students who know this is going on but don’t care. This excuse-making does matter to all students. These lies will eventually affect us all.

The micro-society which exists on college campuses is an indicator of what is going on in the rest of the country. The apathy of most students toward the situation is characteristic of many Americans’ strong reluctance to blame someone for doing something blatantly wrong, such as lying. If you doubt that this is so wide-spread, think about the last time you called in sick to work because you just didn’t feel like going in, or the last time you blamed a missed deadline on a personal problem. We all know this kind of lying and excuse-making goes on, and many of us have been guilty of it at one time or another. Perhaps it is this guilt that makes us lack the conviction to blame people such as Ann for abusing the trust of her professors. After all, if we have done it or have knowingly allowed it to happen, who are we to point the finger of blame?

So in this blameless society, I must excuse Ann’s reprehensible behavior. After all, it isn’t her fault that society has shaped her value system in such a way that it makes it okay to lie about her problems. And it isn’t her fault that her teachers so readily accept her tearful explanations as true. And it isn’t her fault that her friends want her to go out instead of studying. Is it?

Sunday, January 08, 2006

I Rant About One Night Stands

I think a lot of girls get burned on one night stands because they aren't being honest with themselves about what is going on at the time. No one should ever sleep with someone on a first date/upon meeting them at a bar/on a drunken night with someone you've been friends with, expecting it to be the start of a beautiful relationship. But we girls tend to romanticize things, even when we try not to.

I'm not saying everyone always does this but I think more girls than guys get burned by reading too much into a one night stand. We convince ourselves that we slept with him so quickly because it was meant to be and nothing could keep us from giving into our feelings. Girls would do themselves much more justice if they just looked at it in a much more honest way.

Very few relationships actually begin under conditions which could possibly lead to a one night stand. Mostly, only one night stands happen under conditions which could possibly lead to one night stands. If we want to sleep with a guy before anything real has developed we need to go into it with our eyes open to the fact that this is what it is: Two people who don't know each other very well fulfilling a need both of them have. End of story.

Now yes, maybe something might develop after the fact but this cannot be used as a factor when deciding whether to have sex with a guy who is not your boyfriend. As long as you are okay with this being a onetime thing, no strings attached, then go for it and be safe. If you are going to be waiting around to see if he calls you for days after, then do not, I repeat do not sleep with this guy right now.

I am neither advocating nor opposing one night stands here. I'm sure many of us have been there and many others would not even consider it. Have I done it? Yes. Am I ashamed of it? Well, I wouldn't tell my mother about it and I wouldn't go doing it all the time, but I'm obviously not too ashamed to be writing about it here. I managed just fine because I knew what I was getting into and knew what I was not going to get out of it.

All I'm saying is that we should all be honest with ourselves about what is happening when we decide to get into these things.

Friday, January 06, 2006

A Mouse Releases My Inner Girly Girl

There's a mouse in my bedroom and I'm freaking out. The cat brought it in from the garage and let it loose around 2:30 am. I was still up chatting on AIM, another favorite activity of mine when the insomnia hits, when all of a sudden my cats started being totally hyper, which I didn't immediately connect with a mouse . They can be totally hyper just because. But then I heard the squeaking at the same time as it ran out from under my chair. I nearly dropped my laptop.

I try really hard not to be that girl that squeals and climbs on a chair so I went and found a box to put it in and a container to try to catch it in. My plan was to try to catch it and secure it in the box for the night so that today I could drive far, far away from the house and let it loose.

So when I came back from getting my tools, it was under the surround sound speaker on the floor with the cats surrounding it. I got a yard stick and tried to sweep it out from under there, thinking it would see the yard stick coming and run away from it but no the stupid mouse ran right up the yardstick!

At that point my inner girly girl took over and I screamed and screamed and jumped up onto the bench at the end of my bed. The mouse nearly running up my arm did me in. I could no longer be Brave Tina. I stood on the bench collecting myself for a minute, and realized that despite my hysterical screams no one came to see what was the matter. Good to know that when I am raped and murdered in my bed no one will rescue me.

Then I realized the dumb cats were still crouching around the speaker, so I took Andy and tried to shove him under the bed after the mouse but he wouldn't go. Nothing I could do would make them realize the mouse was no longer under the speaker. Now in my daytime clear head I'm realizing I should have just lifted the speaker up to show them, but I didn't think of that then.

So I spent the rest of the night until about 6:30 am cowering in the center of my bed, unable to sleep for fear that the mouse would crawl onto me in my sleep. Finally I had the brilliant idea of sleeping on the couch and left the cats in the room to take care of their business. Still, sleeping on the couch while others have their morning all around you is not so easy so it was not a good night, ahem, morning's sleep to say the least.

And, guess what? No dead mouse today so I can only still imagine that it is scampering around the bedroom still. Oh great.

Monday, January 02, 2006

Like and Lust Scales and Futures Index

I had a conversation recently (actually an argument) with a guy I used to be involved with, the whole basis of which was how much I did or didn't like him throughout our involvement. That conversation is not what I want to write about today; it was stupid and I will only get annoyed again thinking about it. But I did start thinking about all the different connotations of the word like, and I want to develop this theory I have in my head.

You can put liking someone on a scale, where a 1 is just this side of neutral feelings and 10 is can't live without the person. But the Like Scale, if you will, can only involve pure platonic, friendship feelings. So say a 3-5 means you enjoy spending time with someone but wouldn't be devastated if they left your life.

Now, you also have to consider when dealing with people of the opposite sex the Lust Scale. On this scale, a 1 would be you wouldn't be opposed to a kiss but don't feel strongly enough to necessarily act on it. A 10 would be you want to rip their clothes off and do them right there every time you see them.

What you need to do is figure out where on both scales a particular person falls and add those numbers together to get a measurement on what we will call the Futures Index, which then defines what kind of friendship/relationship you would be happy with from this person. Of course, the index then doesn't tell the whole story because, for instance, someone may score at a 1 on the Like Scale and 10 on the Lust Scale, giving him an index of an 11. Second scenario: He scores a 10 on the Like Scale and a 1 on the Lust Scale, also resulting in an index of 11.

You need to analyze the Futures Index in relation to the individual scale measurements that are its components to get a true picture of where things fall. The first 11, for instance, means someone is good for a one night stand, whereas the second 11 means that guy is an excellent choice for a best friend.

Obviously, the best scenario for a long term relationship would be when a guy scores a 20 on the Futures Index. Well, so long as your score on his Futures Index is also a 20. Now, of course there is going to be movement along each scale over time. Sometimes a guy that starts out low on the Lust Scale may eventually move up as you learn more about him and appreciate him more fully. Conversely, a guy that starts out high on the Lust Scale may do things that over time turn you off and move down on the Lust Scale. And of course people are usually going to move on the Like Scale. No one ever starts out at a 10 here and if no one ever slid down the Like Scale people would be much less likely to end relationships.

One could argue that there are other scales to be included in the Futures Index like a Compatibility Scale or a Personal Behaviors Scale but I think you can sort just about every aspect of male-female relations into the like or lust categories and therefore they are already being measured. For instance, you don't like someone that has personal behaviors you disagree with, and mental compatibility is an aspect of how much you like someone whereas physical compatibility is a direct aspect of your lust for them.

So there you have it: Tina's theory on measuring your feelings for the opposite sex. Of course, I could go into more detail on how exactly to make measurements on each scale and what different index scores with different scale combinations mean but that would make this entry way too long. Maybe some other day.

Sushi Tips for Beginners, And I Get an Awesome Tip

On Friday I had my best tip night ever at the bar, partly thanks to this one guy who tipped me $60 and bought me a shot. I was feeling very Coyote Ugly that night. Also , it was incredibly busy that night, adding to the best tip night ever but also making me absolutely exhausted when I left. For once I was glad to go home on a Friday night and do nothing much.

I've been getting kind of sick of that place lately but Friday helped. I might stick around until the summer now. It's a Japanese sushi bar and steakhouse run by Chinese people. The owner is the sushi chef and he feeds me raw fish sometimes. I never had it before I worked there but 2005 was all about trying new things so whatever he offers, I try at least once. I'm still not convinced I'd pay money for the stuff but most of it is passably edible.

Tuna and Salmon are good places to start for anyone interested. They are mild tasting and have a good texture, which means they are not slimy, as you might expect. You might even convince yourself that what you are eating is tofu (not that tofu is much more appealing than raw fish). They are mild enough that if you dip the sushi in soy sauce or take a little wasabi with it, you might even think you are eating rice with soy sauce and wasabi.

Another roll I don't mind much is Eel. The Eel roll is cooked, not raw. It does have a definite taste to it and a chewier texture than Tuna or Salmon, but the taste is still relatively mild yet distinct, like shrimp, lobster or crab. Of course, there are other cooked rolls that you can order and still have the coolness factor of having eaten at a sushi bar: Crunchy Tuna or Crunchy Scallops are good ones. They are tempura battered and fried before being rolled. Of course, if you truly want to stay away from raw, I should tell you to brush the neon orange little round balls off the top of your roll because that is fish roe.

There are two things I would never eat even when offered to me for free. The first, Sea Urchin, I have tried before but found it retch-worthy. It is so rubbery you can barely chew it and it has a nasty bumpy quality to it as well. I can't even say that once you get past the texture you might enjoy the taste. The taste is just nasty and no amount of wasabi can cover it up. Trust me; I tried. The other is also cooked and I have never tried it and never will, on principle. The chef takes a martini glass (One of mine!! How dare he!!) and makes a bed of rice noodles, on top of which he lays several inch-wide baby octopi! They just sit there with their tiny bodies resting in the middle of their eight little arms all splayed out. It is so horrible and I just can't wash the martini glass enough times after the bus boy gives it back to me.

Of course, my best advice when going to a Japanese sushi and steakhouse is just order the steak.