So, I'm standing there in my botany class, being my usual witty self, well I wasn't trying to be witty, I was just making small-talk, when the TA I was talking to started to get that look that I know so well. You know the look, the furtive and desperate look that comes over you when you are cornered by someone who is so amazingly dull that you can't actually break away because you are trapped in some sort of lameness gravity well. I tend to have this look a lot because I am famous for attracting the conversations of the socially inept, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, if you do manage to escape, the next person that you converse with suddenly becomes some sort of asylum that even Twisted Sister couldn't scare you from... well, Rachel did scamper away from me awfully quickly, and then very rapidly engaged another student in a meaningful conversation I wasn't able to hear. She also kept furtively glancing in my direction.
I honestly didn't think that mentioning the amazing crop of galium [it's that weed that sticks to everything and seems to be EVERYWHERE this year] that's covering the world, but most notably my yard, was such a hideous sin. I mean, it's a botany class, for criminy's sake. A botany class where we go out and look at plants growing in the wild, notable among these being galium.
But that's not the point I wanted to address. Is it possible that I'm not nearly as amusing and cute as I always thought I was? I like to think of myself as being endearing and charming, and maybe I am for now. But what about when I'm 30? Will the endearing become annoying and the charming be immature and pathetic? That's just a little more than two years away, and I really don't want to have to grow up and be normal. I've always prided myself on being 'Peter Pan trapped in Tinkerbell's body'.
Oh well.
So, next week I don't talk to Rachel about the thistles and sedum growing in my yard. I think I will manage to survive somehow.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
5.9.00 everyone's multimedia darling.
I was recently informed that I have a "very direct voice" when it comes to the things that I say and write. I prefer to consider it a very singular voice, in amongst a crowd of people shouting, and a quiet voice at that. I suppose it all goes back to wanting to be heard, recognized and adored. I feel like TV Guide's "The Best Show You're Not Watching," except even the cool kids I know won't give me a simple link from their page. I suspect it's because I don't have my own domain name. But, I'd rather be able to afford to access the internet, than be everyone's multimedia darling.
Okay, that's a lie. I'd rather be both, but despite what you have heard about the cosmetological profession, it's not all hand over fist glorious earnings of phat cash and glory that Jose Eber and Frederic Fekkai make it all out to be. I lack two very important yet remarkably basic features: 1) I am not a man. Men make the most money in this profession. I'm not sure why, but it is sadly true. Yes, Virginia, even the hair salon has a glass ceiling. And, 2) I don't have some distinctive thing about me like a snotty French accent or a gimmicky, feather-encrusted cowboy hat. Honestly, I could be making more as management at Taco Bell, but then I'd be management at Taco Bell, and I would have to kill myself in shame, which would also be at counter purpose to my goals. I don't think martyring myself as The Man at a fast food taco chain will get me the adulation I desire.
So, Pinky, it's back to the laboratory. We'll have to wait to tomorrow to take over the world.
Okay, that's a lie. I'd rather be both, but despite what you have heard about the cosmetological profession, it's not all hand over fist glorious earnings of phat cash and glory that Jose Eber and Frederic Fekkai make it all out to be. I lack two very important yet remarkably basic features: 1) I am not a man. Men make the most money in this profession. I'm not sure why, but it is sadly true. Yes, Virginia, even the hair salon has a glass ceiling. And, 2) I don't have some distinctive thing about me like a snotty French accent or a gimmicky, feather-encrusted cowboy hat. Honestly, I could be making more as management at Taco Bell, but then I'd be management at Taco Bell, and I would have to kill myself in shame, which would also be at counter purpose to my goals. I don't think martyring myself as The Man at a fast food taco chain will get me the adulation I desire.
So, Pinky, it's back to the laboratory. We'll have to wait to tomorrow to take over the world.
5.8.00 make new dreams
Have you ever fully invested yourself in a thought or idea, only to realize that it would never come to fruition? When you have those patent realizations that the dream you've been having - that sweet, happy place you go to in your head when you aren't at 100% - is, in fact exactly that, a dream?
Just stop.
Close your eyes. Revel in the simple things. Resolve to remove the stains from your upholstery. Finish your final projects for that art class. Focus somewhere else.
My illusions are shattered on a daily basis. The strongest sense of permanence I have in my life is little more than a tenuous thread, but I manage to get by. I acknowledge and move on. I find new distractions. I make new dreams.
Just stop.
Close your eyes. Revel in the simple things. Resolve to remove the stains from your upholstery. Finish your final projects for that art class. Focus somewhere else.
My illusions are shattered on a daily basis. The strongest sense of permanence I have in my life is little more than a tenuous thread, but I manage to get by. I acknowledge and move on. I find new distractions. I make new dreams.
5.7.00 e.e. cummings
Today I haven't anything interesting to say, except to say that I spent a greater chunk of this weekend reading Buffy the Vampire Slayer scripts. And as cliched as that is, it made me feel all emotional and gushy. So I am going to share a quote and a sonnet, and if they mean anything to you, yeehah. And if they don't, check back tomorrow.
"It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow; empty rooms, shuttered, and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead."
"It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow; empty rooms, shuttered, and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead."
--Angelus, 'Passion,' BtVS
5.6.00 anticipation
05-06-00
I have this strange, anticipatory feeling that I can't adequately describe. It's like when you read a fortune cookie fortune or a horoscope, and for that brief, fleeting, infinitesimal moment, you believe it with all the essence of your being. One of those feelings, except that you can't tell whether or not it's good or bad, and it feels like burning, and butterflies, and running for 15 minutes on the treadmill at a 6% incline, but all at the same time.
Or it could be heartburn.
I have this strange, anticipatory feeling that I can't adequately describe. It's like when you read a fortune cookie fortune or a horoscope, and for that brief, fleeting, infinitesimal moment, you believe it with all the essence of your being. One of those feelings, except that you can't tell whether or not it's good or bad, and it feels like burning, and butterflies, and running for 15 minutes on the treadmill at a 6% incline, but all at the same time.
Or it could be heartburn.
5.5.00 millertime in chihuahua
05-05-00
Why exactly do we celebrate Cinco de Mayo? It's not like most people gather in French restaurants to guzzle champagne and eat baguettes on Bastille Day every year. Maybe it's because Mexico is a hell of a lot closer.
Yesterday, I was listening to these women discuss the imminent currency conversion in Europe to the "euro" dollar. One of them was talking to the other specifically about how resistant the European people were to the idea. So, I had to chime in and ask her how she would feel if the President announced that the Powers That Be in North and South America got together and decided to make us all use "americos". Imagine how fucked up the economy would be if all the little Central American and South American economies were suddenly tied to ours. Black monday would look like a mild off white day.
I still have a hard time imagining a bunch of people in Chihuahua drinking Miller Lights and eating burgers on the 4th of July, though. Maybe I'm too cynical.
Why exactly do we celebrate Cinco de Mayo? It's not like most people gather in French restaurants to guzzle champagne and eat baguettes on Bastille Day every year. Maybe it's because Mexico is a hell of a lot closer.
Yesterday, I was listening to these women discuss the imminent currency conversion in Europe to the "euro" dollar. One of them was talking to the other specifically about how resistant the European people were to the idea. So, I had to chime in and ask her how she would feel if the President announced that the Powers That Be in North and South America got together and decided to make us all use "americos". Imagine how fucked up the economy would be if all the little Central American and South American economies were suddenly tied to ours. Black monday would look like a mild off white day.
I still have a hard time imagining a bunch of people in Chihuahua drinking Miller Lights and eating burgers on the 4th of July, though. Maybe I'm too cynical.
5.4.00 hoochification of your grandma
05-04-00
So, I spent some time pondering what to write about today, and I had actually picked a topic, when I decided to skip on over to see what Dana had to say on the 3rd [which is when I wrote this], and I'll be damned if she hadn't already beat me to it.
Dana had previously shown me how to see what sites people have visited before visiting mine, and pointed out that most of the people that visit her also frequent STRANGE porn sites. She regularly sends me site addresses like ancientbeaver.com*, where pendulously-breasted grannies are apparently sex icons.
And I would just like to say, that I very proudly discovered that two people have come to my site directly from porn pages. And I would just like to say, rock on. You make my day, perverts, just by letting me know you care.
Now, go to the wishlist page and buy me stuff.
*NOTE: I made this address up to make a point. As far as I know, it does not exist. I also neither endorse, nor condemn, the hoochification of your grandma. That's your business, spankers.
So, I spent some time pondering what to write about today, and I had actually picked a topic, when I decided to skip on over to see what Dana had to say on the 3rd [which is when I wrote this], and I'll be damned if she hadn't already beat me to it.
Dana had previously shown me how to see what sites people have visited before visiting mine, and pointed out that most of the people that visit her also frequent STRANGE porn sites. She regularly sends me site addresses like ancientbeaver.com*, where pendulously-breasted grannies are apparently sex icons.
And I would just like to say, that I very proudly discovered that two people have come to my site directly from porn pages. And I would just like to say, rock on. You make my day, perverts, just by letting me know you care.
Now, go to the wishlist page and buy me stuff.
*NOTE: I made this address up to make a point. As far as I know, it does not exist. I also neither endorse, nor condemn, the hoochification of your grandma. That's your business, spankers.
5.3.00 other people's stories
05-03-00
Today I had occasion to spend the afternoon with a woman who is obsessed with 'her stories.' You always hear about someone's grandmother calling soap operas 'stories,' but I'd never actually heard it in person for real. Ever. So, the upshot of this story is that she was a fan of the soap opera Another World, which NBC replaced with Passions. While she finds Passions interesting for the same reasons that Janeane Garofalo does, namely Tabitha the witch and her living doll, Timmy, she deeply resents the fact that her story was cancelled.
Now, I can appreciate her disappointment and resentment. I liked Another World; other than the usual silly sexual escapades and whatnot, it was a decent show. No demonic possessions, not a lot of returns from the grave, and you could easily track who was related to whom. Of course, it appealed to an older demographic, and Passions is almost entirely watched by teenagers and college kids, but hey. More disposable income or something. But what I deeply resented was this woman's freakish knowledge of everything that has ever happened on any soap opera, EVER. I mean ever. Really. She was talking about shit that happened on Edge of Night, a soap that hasn't existed for YEARS. And she knows all the actors names on all the soaps, too. And how is this all possible, you ask? Soap Opera Digest. A magazine wholly dedicated to soaps of all genres, just for people who have to know everything there is to know about their favorite actors! *shudder*
This magazine must be stopped. OR at least, people who treat it like a bible must be stopped. Or maybe a combination of the above.
Today I had occasion to spend the afternoon with a woman who is obsessed with 'her stories.' You always hear about someone's grandmother calling soap operas 'stories,' but I'd never actually heard it in person for real. Ever. So, the upshot of this story is that she was a fan of the soap opera Another World, which NBC replaced with Passions. While she finds Passions interesting for the same reasons that Janeane Garofalo does, namely Tabitha the witch and her living doll, Timmy, she deeply resents the fact that her story was cancelled.
Now, I can appreciate her disappointment and resentment. I liked Another World; other than the usual silly sexual escapades and whatnot, it was a decent show. No demonic possessions, not a lot of returns from the grave, and you could easily track who was related to whom. Of course, it appealed to an older demographic, and Passions is almost entirely watched by teenagers and college kids, but hey. More disposable income or something. But what I deeply resented was this woman's freakish knowledge of everything that has ever happened on any soap opera, EVER. I mean ever. Really. She was talking about shit that happened on Edge of Night, a soap that hasn't existed for YEARS. And she knows all the actors names on all the soaps, too. And how is this all possible, you ask? Soap Opera Digest. A magazine wholly dedicated to soaps of all genres, just for people who have to know everything there is to know about their favorite actors! *shudder*
This magazine must be stopped. OR at least, people who treat it like a bible must be stopped. Or maybe a combination of the above.
5.2.00 family ties
05-02-00Dinners with my family are always something quite surreal. I always think that I am going home to do some laundry and eat some food, and generally take advantage, but I always end up getting my mind twisted around in some convoluted knot that I can't even begin to unravel.
Personally, I'm still trying to decide whether the watercress and mixed baby greens salad with balsamic viniagrette or the fresh picked asparagus with hollandaise is a better sign of spring, but I'm sure my time would be better spent trying to understand why now that I'm almost 28 that the topic of me being adopted so I can have some kind of genealogical legitimacy comes up. I believe I inquired into this possibility at 19, when they got married, and I got poo-poo'd for being too old. Or maybe why my parents have an awesome scanner and great software, but the crappiest, ancient suck ass computer on the planet, or better yet WHY did I spend 5 hours trying to bend it all to my will, only to figure it all out after I was too tired to care?
My mother said something to me that struck a chord, though. My little sister [who is 8.5] has graciously taken my celestial bedroom set cast offs. I asked about how they would be utilized, and my mother announced that they would most likely be shuttling Allie across the hall to Anna's old room, because Anna [my 17 year old sister] never stays the night anymore. And all I could think about was how sad it would make me feel if the room that had always been mine was remade over into something else, and then I remembered that my bedroom is now the back study/playroom/general storage area. And that's when I decided that Anna could just suck it up.
I do have clean clothing now, though. So much for the semi-annual laundering.
5.1.00 mayday, mayday, s-o-s...
05-01-00
When I was in high school, my best friend and I used to take little paper dixie cups that were covered with flowers, and make baskets out of them using green pipe cleaners. Then we would fill them full of jellybeans and heryshey's kisses and give them to all of our friends as May baskets -- to celebrate May Day. And we would give each other half-birthday presents because my birthday was in the summer, and that way we got to celebrate something during the school year. And one time, we drove to Iowa City during the summer, and we were so busy talking about the fun we had that we missed the on ramp to back to Cedar Rapids, and ended up somewhere lost in little Amana. And my senior year, when she got pregnant and decided to give the baby up for adoption, I wrote my epic ode "Jane's Folly" about the incident for my Creative Writing class.
Strangely, short of one visit my freshman year of college, and a few letters, I haven't talked to her since. I wonder what she's up to. Hell, she's probably an art therapist with a husband and kids somewhere in middle America.
I hope that I get invited to the ten year reunion this summer, and I hope she's there.
When I was in high school, my best friend and I used to take little paper dixie cups that were covered with flowers, and make baskets out of them using green pipe cleaners. Then we would fill them full of jellybeans and heryshey's kisses and give them to all of our friends as May baskets -- to celebrate May Day. And we would give each other half-birthday presents because my birthday was in the summer, and that way we got to celebrate something during the school year. And one time, we drove to Iowa City during the summer, and we were so busy talking about the fun we had that we missed the on ramp to back to Cedar Rapids, and ended up somewhere lost in little Amana. And my senior year, when she got pregnant and decided to give the baby up for adoption, I wrote my epic ode "Jane's Folly" about the incident for my Creative Writing class.
Strangely, short of one visit my freshman year of college, and a few letters, I haven't talked to her since. I wonder what she's up to. Hell, she's probably an art therapist with a husband and kids somewhere in middle America.
I hope that I get invited to the ten year reunion this summer, and I hope she's there.
4.30.00 bizarre love parallelogram
04-30-00
Some people say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think those people are full of shit.
I haven't dated anyone for a couple of years, and of course when I finally meet someone that is pretty much everything I'm looking for in a partner, it turns out he lives two time zones to the west. I always mocked people in LDRs for being hapless netgeeks who were incapable of finding pussy in their own neighborhood, but I guess I can sort of understand. However, I think the thing that makes it so hard for me is that I met him here, I cut his hair in fact, and we had a whirlwind 1.5 week romance before he went home. So I know exactly what I'm missing, which makes me feel all sad and self-loathing.
When I checked my horoscope this morning, it told me that I would benefit from social interaction, so I accepted an invitation from half of the iowacontingent to go to a grill out. The event ended up being more like a "bake off", and resulted in the mass consumption of several pizzas, lots of cookies, and lemonade. I did get to spend some quality time with the brother of the other half of my bizarre love parallelogram, though.
4.29.00 "... a very good place to start."
4-29-2000
So, I was talking to my friend Dan last night, and he pointed me at anacam.com, and I was transfixed. Here is this woman who lives and eats and breathes online, and she's got this massive following and she's cool.
And the other day I was talking to my friend Dana, and we were discussing the fact that she has a fairly large following of people who have links to her page and call her a friend [and she doesn't even know all of these people], and people send her cool gifts and candy and mix tapes, and that's cool.
So, I got to thinking. I don't expect or desire to be an icon, but in the grand style of these wonderful women, I'm going to make a concerted effort to put up a thought or idea everday. I just wanna be cool, too. Don't we all?
pixipedia biographica
all the gory details
(updated 02/11/12)
(updated 02/11/12)
(photo era 2007)
- I was born in Delta, Colorado on July 9, 1972, a date which is also shared by the Argentinian Independence Day.
- My mother was a teenager, and my father was an Argentinian citizen that my mother met while a foreign exchange student there.
- "Just this once won't hurt," is a line that I don't believe.
- I have lived in many places. Delta, CO, Huntington Beach, CA, Norway, IA, Cedar Rapids, IA, Toddville, IA, Iowa City, IA, West Branch, IA, Coralville, IA, Bandon, OR, North Bend, OR, and Chicago, IL, are a few of them.
- My mom got married and divorced a few times in there somewhere.
- I attended 8 different schools before high school, and somehow managed to finish all four years of my pre-collegiate education in a single nice, private Catholic high school.
- Most of the people at my 10-year reunion didn't remember me, but I remembered them. 99% of the people I actually wanted to see were smart and skipped out on it. The catered steaks were good, though. A lot of people remembered me at my 20th reunion, but I mostly noticed some of the guys checking out my rack, which I did not have 10 years prior.
- I am not Catholic. I consider myself spiritual, but claim to be a member of no particular organized religion or belief system. Call me a heathen if you will.
- I make a concerted effort to live by the Golden Rule, but often fail.
- I have two sisters and one brother: Short-Round (19 years younger than me), Stinkerbell (10.5 years younger than me), and the one we don't talk about (3 or so years younger than me). Stinkerbell is a Pathologist, and Short-Round is graduating college this spring.
- At various times I have: sung in school choirs all over this great nation, taken violin lessons, played the flute, been a nursing major enrolled in AFROTC changed my major to Communications, changed my major to Art, had a nervous breakdown, gone to beauty school, cut +/or colored +/or permed +/or waxed a lot of different people, graduated with a BA in Studio Art from the University of Iowa, and kissed a lot of boys.
- I like to make things. I make jewelry, knit things that are some permutation of rectangles, crochet accessories like flower brooches, sew messenger bags, make hand-embroidered felt things like donut ornaments and bacon action figures, I draw, and I troubleshoot craft.
- I like to cut and color, but I really don't like perming or doing updos. I can do all four very well, though, thank you.
- Sometime my hair is red, and sometimes it is blonde, and now that I'm older, it's usually purple or pink.
- Until moving to Chicago in May 2003, I spent close to a year living at home with my mom and dad, my youngest sister, a dog, two koi, a couple snails, an algae-eater, many many cats, and more fleas than you can shake a stick at. As of 2013, they have a dog, one koi and one pleco, many many cats, two bunnies, and probably a lot of fleas in the summer. Cricket, my devil kitty, recently took up residence here.
- I now live alone in a charming studio apartment in Edgewater Beach with a cat, Cricket "NoBadKitty!" Martin, and an array of fine furnishings largely purchased at IKEA and Target. Soon, I am moving in with a friend, to a charming attic apartment in Roscoe Village, where she already has a roommate and two cats, so I had to sent Cricket to my parent's to live.
- I used to drive a light pink, 2009 Genuine Buddy 125 scooter (very mod), but had a ridiculous accident that totaled it. Now, I drive a seafoam green, 2009 Genuine Buddy 125, with a baby blue topcase - my old one was pink and covered in stickers and was totaled with the bike or else I'd still use it, and then don't make those topcases anymore, thus the mismatching, and nice black saddlebags.
- In the accident, I went down sideways and broke my fall with my arm, and messily fractured my elbow - had to have a 5" metal plate and 6 screws installed. was wearing a helmet and armored gloves, but not body armor. Now I don't ride it without all three - I was more concerned with road rash, and never considered breaking joints, so I never bothered before with armor. And the helmet definitely saved my life - I whacked my head against the pavement very hard, and then bounced my face on the ground a few times - which trashed the helmet but only bruised my cheek.
- I would rather stay at home and read a book, or watch a movie than go out to a loud, stinky bar.
- I work for a quirky, privately owned salon in Lakeview East, as a contract stylist. (1099 all the way, baby.). I used to work other places as a manager, but they are all teh suck.
- I collect lots of things. I like Tinker Bell and Hello Kitty, but I don't snap it all up.
- I super dig Santa Monica, but I don't think I would want to live there. At least not for more than a couple of months or so. I also love Costa Rica, but couldn't live there full-time because it is too hot and humid and technologically unadvanced, despite being the home of Intel.
I am going to Nice and Paris, France in early 2013, with my ex who is not my friend. I have no idea what to expect, and neither of us speak Franch.
- My favorite colors are pink, orange, pale greens (celadon, celery, mint, sage), and light blue.
- My favorite flowers are lilies and gladiolas, but I am super jazzed about flowering Tillandsia - a bromeliad/air plant, for now. Orchids also pique my interest.
- I could never go on the Atkins diet because I live for carbohydrates, although I do love bacon with an unholy passion, but I am moving in with a gluten-free vegetarian, so we'll see how that works.
- There's more, but I think that's enough for now.
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