Sunday, July 31, 2005
I'm going to get horizontal again. *half-hearted wave*
Friday, July 29, 2005
Yesterday was a bad day. I can only be incredibly thankful that today was better or I might've slit my wrists with a Lady Bic.
There's a particularly bitchy old fashion plate that comes into the library once a week with her very nice husband (he's embarrassed by her...you can see it three miles away).
Once, out of the kindness of my heart, I renewed a movie for them that they hadn't had a chance to watch. This is against policy. Movies are NEVER supposed to be renewed, but like the Norman I am sometimes, I did it to be nice. Bad Andi!
Sunday she and scrubby hubby came in, her attitude tromping 18 feet in front of her, and they plopped their movies up on the desk (instead of putting them in the book return for the 1,400th time) and asked me to renew their movie.
Me: I'm sorry, I know I renewed one before, but I'm really not supposed to.
Mega-bitch: But you did it last time.
Me: And we shouldn't make a habit of it.
Mega-bitch: *super radioactive death glare* She leaves her Wal-Mart sack on the desk and hobbles off in her 6-inch heels and J-Lo sunglasses.
I throw her Wal-Mart bag away out of habit and continue about my business. When she returns to the desk with an armload of movies I check their movies out to them and she asks for a bag. I look under the desk, see that our stash has been depleted (not even thinking of the one she hurled at me earlier and that I, in turn, hurled into the trash) and tell her that I'm very sorry, but we're out. Bad Andi!
Mega-bitch: I LEFT one here when we came in.
Me: *wanting to crawl under the desk away from the snarl*"I apologize ma'am. I threw yours away without thinking. *fishing it out of the trash and hoping it was resting comforably up against a massive snot-clod*
Me again: "Next time you might want to take your sack with you so it isn't given to another patron or thrown away." I say this to everyone.
Mega-bitch: "I've left it up here EVERY OTHER time."
Me: *thrusting movies at her with barely contained contempt* Have a nice day. --insert shitty grin here--
It irked me, but I went on with my day, and it turned out decent.
YESTERDAY, I went to the 'brary for a going away party for one of our reference desk workers. She's leaving to start student teaching (bless her soul). In mid-bite of a roast beef andwich I hear L giggle. She proceeds to tell me that Mega-bitch had just come into the library and was complaining about how I'd informed her that she couldn't get a bag anymore even if she brought it in because we don't have enough. What the holy HELL?
At that point the top of my head popped off and out flew the jack-in-the-box that lives in my head. He boxed my ears and reminded me how stupid it was to keep this job even when I didn't get the $10 an hour I was hired for and the Saturdays off.
Moral of this story: It must be exhausting to be such an asshole all the time, so I'm not exactly sure how people do it.
I "met" Dena in an online book discussion group in 2001 and I've considered her a friend ever since. With all silliness aside, I admire her deeply for her razor-sharp wit, overwhelming intelligence, and her ability to pick great nicknames that make me giggle. I've enjoyed raving and ranting, laughing and poking fun, and discussing everything under the sun all these many four years, and I hope I have another many years discussing with her. She makes me want to be a better writer, a better reader, and a better, more interesting, thoughtful person.
Happy Birthday, Dena! May everything good rain down on you.
Note: I'm leaving this post at the top because it's Dena's birthday alll dayyy.
I guess my question is, what's your point?? Like you, I'm not trying to start an argument, I just don't exactly understand your beef. Is it the fact that HNT causes a stir while issues don't? Is it blogs in general or my blog?
I'll follow up to any comments you leave. Or anyone else can jump in for that matter. Why not!
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Foremost in my brain today that I don't consider fluffy:
I don't know if I'll ever be happy unless I'm reaching for something. I don't know that I'll ever be satisfied with my accomplishments.
I've felt dead inside ever since I got my BA because I wasn't yet working on another degree. I'm one of those people that will be in school until I die. I love it. It's invigorating. I hate sitting still for too long. I love changing schedules and travel and bedlam. Working my ass off to add one more accolade to my stash. Aside from the fact that I'm attention whore and like feeling accomplished, I just love learning and producing and thinking until it feels like my head might explode. I'm most interested in a branch of literary study that is of no use in the real world: theory. I could while away the hours studying obscure philosophy and arguing over terms for ages. When I understand something theoretical I feel like I've been let into some inner sanctum--the Holy of Holies to have girly drinks with Aristotle, Marx, and Derrida. I can't wait to start my classes. I'm so excited I can hardly keep myself from bubbling over. I want to go buy all the textbooks and start reading. I know I'll find myself bitching like a madwoman halfway through the semester, but I'll still be in love with my work.
I'm totally pissed off at the befucked state of the world today. I read the news everyday, I get more irked every day. I loathe the U.S. government right now. I should've gone into politics. I know at least two people would vote for me for President. The damn Republicans would have a field day with my Half-Nekkid Thursday pics, though.
I worry about my family.
I want to publish something so bad I can taste the ink. I have four novels floating around in my head, but I dare not get down with 'em because I'll be too busy in three weeks to even take a pee break. So, they stew a little longer. Along with all the articles I want to write.
I'm ready to get moving with my life people! I feel stuck! But only for three more weeks, then it'll be hyperspeed onward to...something.
On TV: scrubbing bubbles
Listening to: Coldplay
Reading: Interpreter of Maladies, by Jhumpa Lahiri (fan-ass-tastic)
In my head: See above.
I decided to take things down south this week, but I'm still not givin' away the farm. The farm twill never be given away.
This is one of my new pieces of clothing that I purchased in my fit of retail therapy a few weeks ago. Fun shirt. There's lace...you just can't see it at this angle.
My nails look horrid, and that's one of the things I enjoy about leaving the 'brary. My nails will grow back from the stumps they've become to the claws they were before. Quite suitable for eye scratching or a good slash-n-run.
To join in on the half-nekkid fun, see the half-nekkid Os.
Note: Do not be alarmed by the changing decorations on the page. I've just been in my paint bucket again.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
King on pop culture. King can always make me smile,
even if I'm reading about someone's head falling off. That's
not the case here...I just thought I'd mention it.
More later when I'm outta the hole.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
1. A new case of swim ear--in a different ear this time.
2. A lobsterific case of sunburned shoulders and nose. Not really sunburned, more slightly overcooked.
3. A massive bruise on my calf and another one on my thigh.
4. A malfunctioning wrist.
5. I busted my knee on the bench beside my bed. My fault for putting alcohol in my ear before I was already laid out on my bed, thus having to walk around with my head cocked at a 90 degree angle.
6. Sinus drainage the likes of which I've never seen. This is sinus drainage straight from Satan.
Must heal before the weekend. This loser has plans! Watch out!
On TV: Nothing! Everything on TV is shit!
Music: Coldplay...X and Y
Reading: Something from my massive book pile. Or maybe just Bust magazine.
In my head: Dirty pool water and snot.
Oral Tradition and Modern Fantasy for Children (aka, fun and fairy tales forAndi)
1. Diamond Age, by Neal Stephenson
2. Fade, by Robert Cormier
3. Folk and Fairy Tales, by Martin Hallet
4. Off With Their Heads!, by Maria Tatar
5. Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, by J.M. Barrie
6. Skellig, by David Almond (already read it)
7. Struwwelpeter (translation), by Heinrich Hoffman
8. The Witches, by Roald Dahl (on my TBR)
1. Atonement, by Ian McEwan (on my TBR, partially read)
2. England, England, by Julian Barnes
3. London Fields, by Martin Amis
4. Original Bliss, by A.L. Kennedy
5. Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, by Roddy Doyle
6. Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro (on my wishlist)
7. Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie (on my TBR, partially read)
8. Sweet-Shop Owner, by Graham Swift
9. Trainspotting, by Irvine Welsh (on my wishlist)
10. White Teeth, by Zadie Smith (on my wishlist)
11. Winshaw Legacy, by Jonathan Coe
Sooo many of both of these lists are things I've wanted on my own, so I'mexcited to have the push to finish them! Looks like my TBR will be a tad lighterafter these courses. Yayy!
Note: TBR stands for "to be read" referring to the pile of books I have on the premises but haven't read yet.
The most exciting things in my life today:
- I e-mailed Altar Magazine to get on the roster of reviewers.
- The pool is looking much better and I swam for over an hour.
- I ate buttermilk pie. The mana of the freakin' gods of the south.
- I plan to buy a hip mama pair of reading glasses on the way to class tonight. The poor schmuck's way to avoid a trip to the eye doctor.
- I have every intention of stopping by the 'brary to read the newest issue of Entertainment Weekly simply because it has Daniel Radcliffe on the front. If he was 10 years older I'd polish his knob.
- I got a 37.00 refund check today from my credit card company. That should take care of the magazine subscriptions I'm about to send out.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Sunday, July 24, 2005
On a happier note, Mikel is home!!!! He had a skin graft done over the hole from the bike handlebars, and his 10 inch incision from the exploratory surgery is on the way to healed. He has to stay inside and be inactive which is driving him nuts, but other than that, he's fine. We went over to visit and took a tater tot casserole (first time making that and it was sooo goood), and visited for a few hours. He's such a teenager. It hurts my heart to see him grow up so fast.
Now, I'm cleaned up, ready to read one of the many books stacked on my bench, and if a nap happens I won't put up a fight. I'm also watching Shark Week on Discovery. Why do I put myself through this when I hate sharks and I have nightmares about them often? Good question.
I'm not feeling very bloggy. This entry blows goats, but at least it's something.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
It's official. I can't sleep. I lounged around in bed having wonderful thoughts, drifted off, and then a noise at the neighbor's house scared the stuffing out of me, and now I can't go back to sleep. It's 1:54AM. I'm going to be such a Medusa-bitch tomorrow. It might be the day to revolt against all that is considered holy at work and wear jeans tomorrow. And tennis shoes. Screw 'em.
We've now reached the hour when GAC starts running commercials, and while MTV is actually playing music, it's all rap. I can't relax to rap. The urge to shake what my mama gave me is too strong. None of the cheese movie channels are playing anything good. Why couldn't they have one of my comfort movies on like Resident Evil or Deep Blue Sea? Well, there is Jaws (one of them), but that's not the same. The shark is too plastic.
Someone club me.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Thursday, July 21, 2005
The first thing that traumatized me today was Jessica Simpson's new video. What asshat deity gave her divine instructions to fuck up every old song in the karaoke catalog of standards? She snivels, whines and wheezes her way through These Boots Were Made for Walkin' and my ass puckered, shivered and twitched through the whole ordeal. Have you seen that Dukes of Hazzard commercial where she says, "I think something bounced up into my undercarriage"? She's the only Texan I know who can fuck up a southern accent. Her version sounds like Tony Blair at a drag show. She even dragged Willie Nelson with her. I hope he was higher than he's ever been to be talked into being a part of the sextravaganza.
The other trauma: Laguna Beach. What the hell is Laguna Beach??? Is it really a reality show?? I don't think actors could act that ditzy with a straight face. I pity their parents for having deposited such lemmings into the world.
Let's start a petition. The "Stop Being Retarded, MTV" petition. Sign in the comments area.
On TV: Not MTV.
Music: Shannon Wright
Reading: The Soul of Sex
In my head: PLANS!
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
73. I can kinda sorta speak Spanish, and I can read it pretty well. I wish I was a natural at languages like my friend Mike from Baylor.
72. One of my high school students from North Carolina sent me a letter last week and it made me cry.
71. My favorite candle scent is watermelon...with strawberry lemonade running a close second.
70. Amaretto sour is my new favorite drink.
69. I like to experiment in the kitchen. Preferably with food.
68. Maggots are probably my biggest fear. Strangely enough, I love to read non-fiction about forensics...in spite of the maggots involved.
67. I have sensitive skin. And a soft heart.
66. I once kicked 15 people out of my house in high school because they got mud on my carpet.
65. I like to paint with acrylics...oils frighten me.
64. I have a tendency to giggle during massages.
63. I spent 45 minutes vacuuming my pool today.
64. I wrote a novel when I was 15, I have four others floating around in my head, and I have one started on paper (laptop actually).
63. Whilst growing up I dreamed of becoming a writer, teacher, immunohematologist, lawyer, and trapeze artist. Among other things.
62. Breakfast makes me nauseous unless I've been awake for at least an hour.
61. The first concert I ever attended was The Monkees.
62. The last concert I attended was Montgomery Gentry at a local radio station festival.
61. My nickname is Andi-Bug, but my mom calls me Poots and Poopsie, too.
60. I had braces for three years, and I gagged every time they ever took impressions.
59. I could live on Spicier Nacho Doritos, Diet Caffeine-Free Coke, and birthday cake...but I wouldn't fit into my new clothes.
58. I drove a '95 raspberry Corsica from the time I was 15 until I was 22.
57. My toenails are painted orange.
56. I prefer bedsheets in grays, blues, and other subdued solids.
55. I sleep in a Snoopy t-shirt.
54. I scored a 99% on ASVAB's technology section (the armed services' vocational ability testing thingy). They still couldn't talk me into a free education and nice wool socks.
53. I suck at checkers, but I kick ass at poker.
52. I play my own special brand of "extreme" billiards.
51. I don't know how I'll ever decide on a thesis topic. The little voice in the back of my head tells me not to worry about it until I actually start graduate school.
50. My nightstand is a graveyard for batteries, rubber bands, and wrinkle releaser spray.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
I was workin' away like there's some future in it yesterday when Rachel called. That was odd in itself since Rachel rarely calls me at work. All she said was, "Hi, make sure your doors are locked."
Rachel: "Make sure your car is locked. Gabe's truck just got broken into."
Me: "OKBYE!" *scampers out the back door with keys in hand*
The reason she felt the need to call me about this little development is because the employee parking lot at the 'brary backs up to the Sherwin Williams parking lot where her hubby works in the morning and Hondas are oft broken into (my car is sexy...I'm not surprised). I got to work a tad late yesterday, and I always look over to see if Gabe's truck is at work, and it was all fine at the time.
Rachel came by later after she drove over to take care of the police report. Gabe's not much for questions and digging, and Rachel's a loud-mouth like me, so she took care of it. The crackhead dickless thieves popped out his back window and took his crossovers (don't work without the speakers), the box, and they tried to get the amp and the stereo out of the dash, but they failed. They even found the face plate of the stereo under the truck as if the little rope suckers had gotten spooked and dropped it.
They still have the boxes from all the stereo equipment so all the pawn shops in the area will be tipped off if the crackheads decide to pawn it. The cop told Rachel that's unlikely since most of this stuff usually sits and rots away in the crackhouses (which apparently G'ville has a lot of for a small town). Yay!
I went over to the office and talked to Rachel at lunch, caught up on a number of interesting happenings that have taken place since the last time we rapped, and it turned out to be a good visit despite the unpleasantness of the day.
On TV: Ellen
Music: Kerosene (Miranda Lambert)
Reading: Plainsong (Kent Haruf)
P.S. Rachel and Gabe are thinking of buying a house and I'm pea green with envy.
To my utter shock, amazement, and virtual loss of bladder control, the bitchy girl e-mailed mel last Wednesday. Tuesday night she didn't refuse to read or answer, but I have never seen anyone so adept at avoiding eye contact. If I was at the board she was looking left. If I switched sides, she looked right. If I left the board completely and walked down the row, she looked at the board and copied the material. My normal 2.5 or 3 hours of material only takes about an hour and a half when no one speaks besides me. It's kinda pointless to tell my cute, amusing stories when no one gives a sheep's patoot.
Back to Wednesday's e-mail. The gist was, "I don't think I gave my full attention and I'm really sorry for that. I'm emotionally fuckered right now and I'm taking it out on everyone around me. Again, I'm really sorry."
Well! That was lovely. She's human! Could've fooled me! Did it improve her behavior and attention span in Thursday's class? Nope. I'm not that lucky.
Tonight's class will last exactly one hour because I have a book group meeting and we're ahead of schedule. Thank Jehovah (God) for small miracles.
Monday, July 18, 2005
99. I've been extremely self-centered for the last 6 months or so, since I'm just starting to like myself again.
98. I find the total overhaul of the physical appearance an excercise in catharsis.
97. My bamboo is dying.
96. I have a penchant for sexy lingerie that no one ever sees. My preferred colors are red and black. And that runs over into my daily wardrobe as well.
95. My life is a long list of obsessions that include (this begins in childhood and comes up to the present) Jem cartoons, WWF wrestling, Garth Brooks, Brian White, Jason Kidd and the Dallas Mavericks, LJ Smith's books, vampires (books, movies, and legend), chatting and internet usage, graphic design, art, singing, and back to reading. And there are surely some I've forgotten...including cheerleading and gymnastics, and a bunch of others.
94. I hated my father until I was 18.
93. I'm cripplingly afraid of losing my mother.
92. I'm a messy, cluttery person, but I can only stand it for so long and then I throw away everything in sight.
91. I'm obsessed with keeping my fingernails spotless and nicely shaped.
90. My least favorite word combo is "sandwich board." Runner up is "giving head."
89. I get an adrenaline rush from piercings, hair colorings, driving too fast, bungee jumping, and rollercoasters. I haven't tried skydiving or parasailing yet, but I'd love to.
88. If I had the choice to be nauseatingly smart or heart-stoppingly beautiful I'd choose the smarts.
87. I love learning about all religions.
86. I could discuss politics with my cousin Sammy for eons.
85. My most prized possession is my grandfather's class ring.
84. My greatest lesson in patience came when I was 9 and bought a caboodle makeup case that I didn't love instead of waiting for a while to get spectacular one. My mother still reminds me of this at the age of 24.
83. I've broken both of my ankles.
82. The first time I ever said "fuck you" out loud was to a boy who was making fun of me right after I'd broken my ankle.
81. Joe Allen Hitsman was my very first crush. It was in kindergarten.
80. My first kiss was Tommy Saltzman....behind his mom's car while playing hide and seek at the age of 6. Between Tommy and Joe, it was a busy year.
79. I loathe 95% of Russian literature.
78. I don't hate Oprah Winfrey.
77. I do hate baby blue and baby pink.
76. Winter is my favorite season because I love bundling up and curling up with a lenthy book.
75. Any musician that makes a video that includes animation should be shot at close range. I'm talking about you Paula Abdul, Lonestar, and Eminem.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
After the hospital, Mom and I went shopping and I got three more tops and she had to fight me away from the shoes with a stick. The tops:
1) A red v-neck lacy concoction that will go great with the flirty black skirt or pants...even jeans if I'm feeling funky.
2) A crimson 3/4 lenth sleeved top with a layered white ank top. So cute, so casual.
3) A turquoise, lace-trimmed camisole. I'm planning to wear it under the Marilyn top on days that I don't want my cleavage peekin' quite so much.
Thursday afternoon my department head from the college called and woke me upfrom a nap to ask if I will teach her English 1302 class tomorrow morning. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to be teaching something more interesting. They're doing peer review and I get to explain MLA format--something I lightly touch on in the developmental course. I long for the days that I'm teaching regular college English. Just one more year. *gag*
As is expected, I'm neck-deep in Harry Potter and LOVIN'G IT! I was a little iffy about chapter two, for those of you who know what I'm talkin' about, but hopefully that pans out OK. I think I know who gets bumped off and that irks me!!! I talked to David about it last night and he accidentally found out who gets bumped off when he was flipping chapters. I told him we'd confer after we finish reading. I hope I'm wrong...but I don't think I'm wrong. Damn J.K. Rowling! But I love her. So conflicted.
I'm feeling short on all thoughts witty and wonderful this morning. I slept for 11.5 hours last night, so I don't think anyone can blame me. *yawn*
On TV: Major League II
Music: More important things to do.
In my head: Sleep residue.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Thursday, July 14, 2005
My "little" cousin Mikel is 14 and prone to accidents. He races motorcycles, he skates, he plays sports. He's broken his collar bone at least three times, he's had a concussion or two, and now he's almost disemboweled himself.
Yesterday he was on his way home, riding his bike with some friends, and he hit a rock or a pothole or something of the sort. He and the bike flew and skidded, and somehow a handlbar twisted around royally tearing his abdominal muscle and going right on through into his abdomen. Insides were on the outside. Somehow, he managed to call his mom on his cell phone to come get him (he was calm!) and he was later careflighted to Parkland's trauma center. He's had surgery, he's on morphine, and everything looks to be fine. He'll be in the hospital for 4-5 days. Much to my horror and total pissoffedness, Mom and I can't get over to Parkland until Saturday. I've always been really close to Mikel just as his dad (my brother-like cousin) is close to me. I was scared shitless to say the least. We've forbidden him to EVER drive.
In the wake of all this, I embarked upon some major retail therapy today. I'm beginning to look like a beach-bum-frump, so I hit some 70% off sales today and came away with quite a haul for a mere $120.
Black cropped "dressy" pants with satin ribbon-like belt
Black pin-striped cropped "dressy" pants with purple satin ribbon-like belt
Swishy skirt, knee length, with the cutest non-girly but still sexy piping and "not ruffly" but a ruffle at the bottom (I'll take a pic)
Black "Jackie O" top..slightly off the shoulder.
My favorite, because it makes me feel like Marilyn Monroe, is a black top with plunging neckline, sleeveless, does a wrappy thing in the front and hides all my problems while making my waist and the girls look FANTASTIC. It's black with turquoise funky leafy print. And I'm not one to waste my first tan in a zillion years, so this works nicely with it.
Shoes: one pair of flat "thong style" sandals to replace my others. The thong part is encrusted in shiny black, but not gaudy beads.
And the other piece that throws me over into 100% Marilyn: Black wedge heels, strappy, black with white polka dots. Oh my fucking heavens, I can hardly stand myself.
And I've decided to chop my hair off, get it straightened, and dye it auburn with chunky blonde streaks.
I do this occasionally. The full-on makeover thing. You needn't be worried. I'll post pics.
On TV: Friends
Music: Rebecca Lynn Howard
Reading: The Soul of Sex (almost finished)
In my head: My bod.
Is it chilly in here?
To report your own Half Nekkid submission see Os.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
1. If you could be any Napoleon Dynamite character who would you be and why?
2. If you were a NASCAR driver (God forbid) who would you choose to sponsor your car and have plastered all over it?
3. If you were playing truth or dare what is the grossest concoction you would dare someone to drink?
4. In order to save the world from bloody destruction, would you take one for the team and sleep with Rosie O'Donnell? Elaborate on the why and how.
5. If you wrote a book, what would the title be?
1. If you had the cash to buy a country, which one would you choose and why?
2. If you could concoct a best-selling candy bar, which yummy ingredients would you choose and what would you call it?
3. If you hadn't gone into a career in 'puters what would've been your alternative choice? Discuss.
4. Would you rather be bitched at by Simon from American Idol or that guy from Hell's Kitchen?? Why?
5. In your opinion, what is the best book ever written and why did it thrill you so?
1. If you had a tattoo that covered your entire back, what would it be and why?
2. What would your drag queen name be? Explain.
3. If the dancing Six Flags man showed up at your door and you could choose the song to dance to, what would it be?
4. Choose "screw" "date" or "marry" for the following celebs:
Kathy Lee Gifford
5. Which would you rather take part in -- a 5 mile run or jello wrestling with Steven Segal? Discuss.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
I was calmly sauntering to the circ desk after returning from my lunch break. We have a cart of sale books out front...hardbacks $1, paperbacks 50 cents. At first glance I thought he was any ole man on his knees looking at the books, but then I realized his bent legs didn't extend as far out as one might expect. It was kinda like Dorf lookin' at books.
I twirled to the back and whispered excitedly, "L, there's a bonafide midget out front!"
"I know, he's been here before."
She's no fun.
The excitement of having a midget in the 'brary didn't last long. I went back out front, took my place at the computer and resumed my twiddling of thumbs. A few minutes later our little patron scurried to the front desk, his eyes barely visible over the curve of the marble desk top, and he thrusted a book at me.
Midget: "Do you know what this book is?!?"
Midget: "Does anyone know how important this book is?"
Me: "Apparently not. They go through all of them before they put them out for sale."
Midget: "This is an important historical text!!!" *shaking book*
Me: "You're welcome to buy it for $1. I guess they didn't think we needed it in the collection."
Midget: "They'll probably just replace it with some modern B.S." *snarf, snarl*
And then he didn't even buy the fuckin' book!!! If someone is going to make that big a stink about us selling the book, they'd better buy the piece of crap!
Monday, July 11, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions -- each person's will be different.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
1. if you were to go back to high school knowing what you know now, what would you do differently?
I gave a titch too much of a fuck about what people thought of me in high school up until my junior year or so. I would go back and not give even a bit of a fuck. I started my high school career hanging out with a bunch of snooty bitches, but I still intermingled with other groups, and I eventually latched on to a wonderful batch o'ladies (and Keith), with whom I felt velly comfortable and intellectually stimulated. I was involved in every club imaginable, helped throw the most wicked-ass prom in school history, and shocked the pants off of everyone as a senior when I pierced my tongue. In a school of 250 students news travels fast.
2) you are on American Idol (and presumably you can sing). what do you sing to win them over? oh, and what do you wear?
I can sing! Although, I'm still not sure what I would sing so I'll pull a song out of my ass and say I'd sing Hurt Me, recorded by Leann Rimes when she still sounded like Patsy Cline. It would allow me to wail and be sensitive and then wail some more. It was a popular request when I used to sing for people.
The smartass answer to the outfit question: band-aids and a fig leaf.
The real answer: The outfit is a toss-up. I like things clean and classy and simple, so the American Idol stylists would be pissed off and out of luck if they tried to put me in sequin pasties and a rhinestone-encrusted sari. I would probably go for a ass-hugging pair of designer jeans, up-to-there black spike heels, a black sweater that could barely contain Rebecca and Howard, and a black leather jacket. Makes the blonde and the blue eyes pop you know.
3. the world is going to end unless you sleep with one of the two ugliest men in the world (in my opinion): Kevin Federline or Snoop Dog. who do you have sex with and why?
As shocking as it is even to me, I'd have to go with Snoop. With all the gin-n-juice he'd be chugging I doubt he could get it up in the first place, and if he could, we all know what position it would be, so I wouldn't have to look at him.
4) how do you know when you're in love? and do you believe in love at first sight?
In my opinion love at first sight is a crock.
As for knowing when in love. I'm pretty dense for a chick, and I usually don't even realize I like someone until years after the first conversation. As for love, you know you're in it when a) it doesn't hurt b) you're mind-bendingly proud just to stand next to someone c) that verse, 1 Corinthians 13:4, applies to the situation. Whether you're a Christian or not, that verse makes a damn fine point.
5) has anyone seen you wearing your librarian undies yet?
Not yet! I've worn them once, though, and they're so cuuuute!
On TV: Overboard (Goldie Hawn at her peak).
In my head: -edited for content- and no, it's not sexual.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
All of this excitement started when I was reading her blog, Faster Than Kudzu, and felt moved to comment on a post in which JJ gave a link to the "Which Book are You?" quiz. I always come up Watership Down or Owen Meany (gag), blah blah.
She e-mailed and thanked me for takin' a chance on a new author's book, said a bit about Owen Meany and Irving's work (I'm a Cider House fan). It was sweet of her to e-mail.
I've e-mailed a few authors...gotten responses from all I've tried: Anita Diamant, and I've had e-mail and phone conversations with Donna Cross, author of Pope Joan. She was really nice...did a phone interview for an article I was writing.
If you think I'm lame, lick my crack. Authors are my celebs!
Friday, July 08, 2005
That's all I need on a Friday when the Normans are comin' to the 'brary. Pray for my soul.
CD: Joni Mitchell....Blue
Reading: The Soul of Sex...mostly.
In my head: Nasties.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
As much as I love teaching, tonight's class, which begins the second summer session, was what I would imagine castration (without anesthesia) to be.
The college is required to offer a developmental reading class at night. Last session's class was a mere five women, and we had a blast. They were receptive, bright, willing to discuss, funny, touching. Up to this point I've had one person enrolled for summer II, and one one more added at the last minute. Another signed up for a reading lab which is a TBR (time at my discretion), so I'll ask that student to join our little group. I was really hoping that this smaller group would be as receptive as the first, but it looks like I'm not going to be that lucky.
My two students, T and J, present their own respective challenges. J is Korean, speaks very little English, and is deaf. T has a backwoods bad attitude that walks 7 feet in front of her. I think J will be OK, but I have serious doubts about T. I almost hope she drops already.
To begin class tonight, I went through my usual song and dance. We discussed the syllabus, what's expected in the course, my peeves, etc. I'm always quick to tell my students, "This is a reading class, so expect to read. A LOT!" I started explaining some of the material, attempted to discuss some of the examples with them. Not much response. OK. Whatever. I called on T to read a very short paragraph--a grand total of approximately 5 sentences--and she avoided eye contact and said in a whippishly bitchy way, "I think I'll let you do it this time." My eyebrows shot up like a weenus in a whore house and I promptly told her to be prepared to read next class period. It's often uncomfortable at first, but it's ultimately one of the most helpful things we do. Her attitude is going to be a huge hindrance.
This is going to be the longest 5 weeks ever, and I have a feeling I'll really have to earn my money this time.
In other school-related news, I signed up for a graduate course that starts next week: Narrative Theory. I'm a theory nut, but now that I'm signed up I'm having second thoughts about this one. The narratology websites I've been reading look pretty dull, and I think I might want to finish my last summer of relative freedom off with some more slothfulness. We'll see. I have to cough up $517...or not...within the next couple of days.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
I have a fantasy...a fantasy of me dressed in leather. Jacket, chaps, boots, and a helmet so shiny it could blind passing yuppie SUV's. I ache to race down Texas backroads enjoying the landscape and my own badassness--not to mention the soft squeak of my leather.
I have a deep desire to dismount my hog as the people all gather 'round to stare. I take off my helmet and let my blonde curls free and I hear the lusty exhale from the onlookers as, "That's a hot chick on a motorcycle," pulses through their heads.
On your knees. The ultimate Estella's revenge.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Weren't they gorgeous? I remember looking at this picture when I was growing up and thinking that they both could've been movie stars. Their beauty was overwhelming every time I looked at it. They look so perfect in this picture. People who didn't know them might think they lived in one of those houses with impeccable everything. A look-but-don't-touch house with a froofy girly dog and a four-car garage. In truth they were farmers for most of their lives. They lived on a farm road in a quaint house that I spent most of my youth in. My love of wide open space and Texas sunsets grew out of my time at their home. My grandmother was an avid flower gardener and rock collector and my grandfather was an avid vegetable gardener and talker. My grandmother was steely with a wicked grin and mischievous eyes. My grandfather was a kind, tortured soul whose actions never left me wondering if I was loved.
Today leaves me reflecting on past holidays. The whole family would get together and we'd have a birthday dinner and fireworks. They had a huge german shepherd/doberman mix named BG. He was terrified of fireworks, so my grandfather would feel sorry for him and let him in the house to sleep under the dining room table. When we were done with fireworks we'd sit around the table and talk until all hours. That was unusual since my grandfather usually went to bed around 7:00 or 7:30 to lay in bed and listen to baseball.
I miss the little things about both of them, but about him...the smell of his pipe, long talks about nothing, poker and Candyland, Big Red at the service station, the way he called me honey, overalls, really old country music, "Graciouuuuuus."
It's almost three years since he's been gone, and I laugh through tears thinking of him.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
library card. It's a city library! Suck it up!
2) People telling me I should take Zoloft because I'm in a bad
4) People getting up in my goddamn face to try and cheer
5) People who won't let me be myself. I'm not changing, so, again
suck it up.
goo-filled head. I need wide open spaces, artisticness, and something DIFFERENT, so I think I'm going to road trip it to Las Vegas, New Mexico
and Taos. I know I'll want a getaway before school starts back, so it'll be
the perfect shortish escape. It's a 10-hour drive (nothing compared to the
18-20 to NC), and I'll probably spend a few days in Las Vegas and a few days
in Taos before I drove home. I don't know if anyone is coming with me. I
kinda feel like traveling alone anyway, so my heart won't be broken if I'm
flying solo. I love traveling! Squeeeel! I'll post pictures of my possible
If I can afford it, this lil excursion won't be happening until August sometime.
I'll keep you all posted.
Friday, July 01, 2005
yard trek to the book drop was punctuated by intolerable sweating and heat-stroke-induced nausea. My hair went from sweet, polite curls to Diana Ross's alien
love child in a matter of mere seconds.
Two short hours later the mighty man upstairs is pissin' his love down in
the form of a torrential downpour. We all get a little crazy here in the 'brary when the rain comes. We do little dances of joy and wander outside just before the dam breaks to stare up at the sky and do our best toothless-rednecks-on-the-news-after-a-tornado impressions:
Well, I was standing out in ma yard when I seen this big thang come out the sky and suck my trailer right up. *scratch balls now*
Did I mention that the library is made mostly of windows? That adds a little extra zing to a day's work knowing a ball of lighting might come down on the head and fry your insides like a side of bacon. Never say librarians don't risk life, limb, and sanity to make knowledge available to the masses.
Oooh, I think I hear 60 mph winds. This day can't get much better.
Oh, and as an aside, the Normans are here. I've already been loved and it's not even noon.