Not-So-Good...

So yesterday I had a bunch of time on my hands (as the Redskins blew what should have been a decisive win...WTF) and I started making random lists. These are two of them. Not saying they are hysterical, just entertaining. I got nuthin' goin', why not work on lists. Add to 'em if you want to.

Not-So-Good The Next Morning:
reheated Indian food
reheated rice
Tattoos
Haircuts
Rob Schneider movies
That wrestling match
Most anything that starts with “Hey! Watch THIS!”
Last night's high kick contest
Twister marathons
Blue glittery eyeshadow
5" Stripper Boots
Almost anything involving tequila

Probably Not So Good to Have Straight and Narrow:
race tracks
mazes
GLAAD presidents
lazy rivers
bras
Fun straws
small intestine

Dis is Me

I'm thinking about disparity. That's it, that's the whole blog. Catch that pearl while it falls from my lips, kids. I write insight in fortune cookie sizes now. Ok, sarcasm aside. I remember years ago coming to the realization that there is vast difference between believing in one's ability to do things and the belief in who one is at their core. That it is possible to have great faith in what I can do, but very little value in who I am. Does that distinction make sense? I don't think I struggle with this today to the severity I have in previous years, but it is still a disparity I wish I didn't have. I'm frankly amazed how many women are afflicted with this—the ability to be extremely successful and seemingly brave and yet so fragile and frightened, with an insatiable need for affirmation or attention to give value to who they are. Some people put their whole worth into what they do and yet some do so much but don't realize they have value to place (and then there are the hypothetical healthy ones, who place worth in who they are and what they do is simply a reflection of a worth rooted elsewhere. We call these people “liars”). I think this whole month and a half job search thing has me doubting my ability to do anything; I don't know what I would do if I could do anything, how can I even have an inkling now? Any idea I have is vague and amorphous, a world seen without definition or reason. Without confidence in what I can do my worth bounces like it's in its own game of Breakout: from Christ, to friendships, to future, to faith, to crisis. I was tired of bouncing two weeks ago. But with each bounce the disparity between what is concrete and what is sand becomes clearer and for that I am thankful.

Songs We All Know

When I was went to visit Lizzie in the UK last year we made a list of songs that people our age know all the words to; those songs that can be played in confidence that people who were in high school in the 90s probably know all or part of. This is not a complete list, feel free to add more. It's just funny to think about. And Leslie wanted to know what we came up with, so really this is just for her.

Runaway Train—Soul Asylum
No Rain—Blind Melon
Shine—Collective Soul
Basket Case—Green Day
Closing Time—Semisonic
Undone (Sweater Song)--Weezer
Daughter—Pearl Jam
One—U2
The Freshman—Verve Pipe
Only Wanna Be With You—Hootie and the Blowfish
Smells Like Teen Spirit—Nirvana
Possum Kingdom—Toadies
Santa Monica—Everclear
You Outta Know—Alanis Morrisette
Under the Bridge—Red Hot Chili Peppers
Cumbersome—Seven Mary Three
Two Princes—Spin Doctors
Blister in the Sun—Violent Femmes
Stay—Lisa Loeb
Santeria—Sublime
Run-Around—Blues Traveler
Wonderwall—Oasis
Mr. Jones—Counting Crows
Ants Marching—DMB
Interstate Love Song—STP
Spiderwebs—No Doubt
Hey Jealousy—Gin Blossoms
Lightening Crashes—Live
Today—Smashing Pumpkins
What's Up—4 Non Blondes
Only Happy When it Rains—Garbage
Glycerine—Bush
Dreams—Cranberries
Losing My Religion—REM
All I Wanna Do—Sheryl Crow
These Are Days—10,000 Maniacs
Lovefool—Cardigans

In addition to this mix there is also the Mid-90s chick mix, which was made in college and includes songs by Paula Cole, Meredith Brooks. Poe, Sarah McLachlan, Jewel, etc. It's a funny flashback as well.

Go Sho'ty

Today is my blog's 5th birthday. Happy birthday, blog. I'm gonna buy you a pony.
And by pony I mean those tiny bottles of Rolling Rock beer.
Way to exist before blogs were cool!
Way to document the past five years exclusively through my eyes!
Way to survive something like 5 name changes!
Way to only post 34 times in all of 2003! That was a good year to skip!
Remember that fun weekend we had, blog? Of course you do, you have documented it for me!
You sure do deserve that pony, blog.
Or at the very least, a silly hat.

CRUSTY CRAB!

I wrote a post about my weekend, (which was original and amazing), but written down it was just sort of boring so I tossed it. I'm feeling repetitive and unoriginal. It's like when your father tells you the same story for the 4^th time; looses its freshness. I went out with friends! Martinis! Adventure! Redskins! Woohoo! That was it. Sometimes brevity peaks out and gives the world a raspberry before it goes back into the chest where verbosity normally keeps it locked up. See? Back to too many words.

So I realized my digital camera was also in my car when it was broken into, so if you thought I didn't post enough photos before...well, now I got nuthin'. Maybe I'll start depicting everything with little dot drawings like they have in the NYT. Or draw events like they do with courtroom painters. Maybe I'll do fingerpainting, Mfers. Oh well, camera was a graduation gift from my father—I needed a new camera, but it had great sentimental value to me. Of course I'm a packrat, everything has sentimental value in my sick sick mind.

Quizzo on Monday: Amazing. Possibly the best team ever. First off I won a shout out question (correct answer: “CRUSTY CRAB!”) so I got a Jack of the Wood t-shirt. THEN by the end of the second round we were in the top 3 teams. After the speed round (we kicked ASS on that one) we were one point from first place. Final round we tied for third—just two points from the winner. For this I blame the following: Kenny Lofton, Ethopia, Friday, Blake Edwards, Road to Rio, James Earl Carter, and all the other answers we got wrong. But that is the highest we've ever finished; go us. Thanks to all who made appearances. Remember: everyone is invited to Quizzo...unless you dated one of us. I've got standards.

I finally finished Mrs. Dalloway. Only took me a good six months to get around to finishing a book that is less than 200 pages, but now I feel like I need to go back and read it quickly; to make it all make sense. That was a dense read. Recommended if one has the time to give attention to every word or phrase as if it stood alone. And really, people were surprised that Virginia Woolf committed suicide? Really? Did they bother to read it? It's like people being shocked that Sylvia Plath killed herself—did ya read The Bell Jar? That's a new list right there: Obnoxiously Obvious Holy Shits. Holy shit George Michael is GAY? Clark Kent is Superman!? Bruce Willis is dead in “The Sixth Sense”!? RuPaul is a MAN!?