Now that I'm back from Idaho, where I'm not fully convinced they even have internet...nine things about me.

- I've always wanted to have fun hair. Badly. But now that its days are numbered, I'm just happy to have hair at all.

- At one point or another of childhood I took swimming lessons, golf lessons, art classes, radio classes, and one day of vacation bible school where I cried so hard they gently told my grandma it was probably best I didn't return. Telling, very telling.

- I generally don't think about outer space because it weirds me out.

- The first song I ever karaoked was "Nothing Compares 2 U" by Sinead O'Connor.

- I feel ashamed when I admit that I don't know how to drive a stick shift.

- If I ever adopt a boy, I already have the name picked out.

- I generally despise movie theaters.

- Everyone makes fun of the way I pronounce "measure"...and I still don't know how my way sounds any different.

- The right shoe always goes on first. Not that I think it's good luck or anything. It just does.



ten things for ten different people; you're so vain, you probably think this list is about you.

(1) I know you hated 2010, but I think it set you up for an amazing 2011. I have faith, and I know you do too.

(2) You are my favorite mistake.

(3) Vienna waits for you, by Billy Joel. Listen, and then listen again.

(4) I doubt I'll ever find a happiness like when we sit on the beach at sunset and talk about what we're thankful for.

(5) Thank you for calling my bullshit, amongst a million other things.

(6) Fly that freak flag, baby. Fly it high, fly it proud.

(7) Life by and large sucks from 21-23. It gets better. Promise. Hunker down and stay the course.

(8) You would never guess how much I look to learn from you.

(9) Ecclesiastes 3:1

(10) Do what you love, and fuck the rest.

last call for the bandwagon

True story? I love this shit. It's masturbation into the cyberspaces (even more so than usual blogging), and hearkens back to the days of MYSPACE SURVEYS, and don't EVEN pretend like you weren't obsessed with them. Mine might not be in perfect succession, as I'm bouncing around the west for the next ten days with little to no internet, but it'll get finished. Thank you RC/RD/CC for the inspiration. I reserve the right to modify as I see fit, because some of these feel redundant:

Day 1 - 10 things you'd like to say to 10 different people

Day 2 - 9 things about yourself

Day 3 - 8 ways to win your heart

Day 4 - 7 things that cross your mind a lot

Day 5 - 6 things that you wish you'd never done

Day 6 - 5 people that mean a lot, in no particular order

Day 7 - 4 turn offs

Day 8 - 3 turn ons

Day 9 - 2 smiley faces that describe your life at the moment (author's note: yeah, no)

Day 10 - 1 confession

This is so much better than doing work, i.e. why I opened my computer to begin with.


double negatives

I don't have much to say about the holidays.

Not in a Grinchy way. I still love me some Christmas. But I'm spent. I have a week's worth of beard and bags under my eyes. I haven't slept more than five hours in I don't know how long. There is a beautifully decorated tree downstairs, candles and fire lit, festive hors d'oeuvres and the casual chatter of a girl scout troop reunion, and I'm holed away upstairs, watching free porn clips while haphazardly packing for a ten day trip.

I'm not joking about any of that, by the by. Most notably the girl scout party and the porn.

I'm not not excited to go home. Home, and engagement party, and New Year's Bash. Don't take this the wrong way. I'm simply, as the French probably don't say, le tired.

I want no Blackberry. I want no schedule requests, I want no fake-pleasant-work voice, I want no movement, I want no nothing. I want to go to a forgotten beach with a book and Ziploc of the painkillers associated with a major surgery.

Not the little Ziploc either. We're talking freezer bag.

I'm not not happy. But I need a few deep breaths. Full time-out, charged to the home team.

I don't need to remember how perfectly absurd and wonderful my life is, because I think about it every day.

Forget the two front teeth....all I want for Christmas is more of the same.

And to me, it doesn't not make sense. And that's all that matters.

Merry Christmas,



less is more

It was recently brought to my attention that I've been writing less and simply posting more pictures. Alright, true story. Part of it is the fact I now work fourteen hour days and effort above and beyond staying awake is monumental. Part of it is the natural ebb and flow of my forever-unsteady emotional expressions. And above all else, it's the fact I believe in less being more, and for the here and now a simple post seems to relieve more stress than a messy brain dump.

Por ejemplo:

On the homestretch...I need Christmas, an Ambien, and a few deep breaths.

Namaste -




I had some.

It is now officially Christmas.

Game on.


Not you, Hugh Grant. You go home.

I'm feeling the need to watch this movie, this scene in particular, and not just because it's seasonally appropriate.