---Funny Phrases---
So in honor of Shoe's upcoming bar crawl, which is a competitive team event, I've killed some time brainstorming team names. Here are few of the finest (I think at least):
1. Nuclear Powered Pants
2. Trout Pout
3. Aggressively Fussy (i.e. a bitch)
4. Meat Whistle (ew but funny)
5. Dewey Decimators
6. Hammer Toe (haha google images)
7. Mrs. Sippy
8. Beaver Fever (laugh, but it's a real disease)
9. Abbie Birthday
10. Belle E. Flops
Ok, so little known fact about me: I am a comic nerd. I'm not a collector of comics, and I can safely say that I've never attended any creep-o convention decked out in superhero attire. But I did grow up collecting superhero trading cards, watching X-men every Saturday morning at 11am, and picking up the occasional comic book at the checkout line when Zsa zsa went grocery shopping. I have an affinity for superheroes. There is something so sexy and mystical about a mutated hottie that can ignite his body en fuego on command.
But seriously, while I love me some crazy superhero powers, my favorite crime fighter and righter of wrongs is hands down Batman. I fell in love with Batman at an early age, watching Adam West take on the role in the 1960s version of the caped crusader. While horribly outdated for contemporary standards, the original Batman series was monumental for the Batman movement that later followed. It reintroduced society to a simple man who, after witnessing how crime and corruption personally through his life into a whirl wind roller coaster ride, decided to take matters into his own hands. He became a household icon. Children would don his calling card (the bat signal) on their pajamas in order to keep the boogie man away. For adults, he was their version of the Boondock Saints. Batman did what every average American wanted to do (or at least what my father said he wished he could do)... kick asses and take names of all the corrupt, vile, and insanely criminal persons that offer zippy contributions to society.
When the Batman cartoon series began, I immediately became a regular follower. I've seen every episode at least a handful of times (my favorite episode is still episode #46 "Almost Got 'Im"). My little brother dressed as Batman for Halloween quite possibly two years in a row, and while I couldn't participate in the elementary school's Halloween parade crossed dressed as my favorite superhero (stupid rule), I opted to come as the loveable Harley Quinn. Even Zsa zsa partook in Batman fever, sporting the Catwoman costume every few years.
So with the recent release of The Dark Knight, I just want to take a second to recap why exactly Batman rules before the hype dies down and we go back to life before the Batman franchise.
1. Unlike other superheroes, he has no super power. Call Bruce Wayne crazy for running around Gotham City in tights, fighting bad guys... but can you honestly tell me you haven't given thought to anonymously beating the crap out of someone who deserved a good ass kicking??
2. Batman's villains are the bomb. Oh sure, Superman had Superman-Prime and Professor X had Magneto; but Batman has The Joker, The Penguin, Two Face, Poison Ivy... the list goes on. The best part about Batman is his villains! Each villain portrays a dark side of Batman that he constantly battles to stay in the fight for morality. Penguin's corrupt business tactics keep Bruce Wayne in check. Joker's insanity, due to a terrible childhood, is a constant reminder that Batman cannot succumb to the hate of his own parents' death. Batman and his villains share the same weaknesses and vices, but it is Batman that takes his weakness and turns it into strengths through will power. Talk about inspirational.
3. Okay, so maybe you like the idea of super powers and awesome skills that enable a superhero to defeat his enemy. Well Batman is innovative and simply jacks up his good ol' natural abilities to fight crime. He relies on (taken directly from wikipedia) "intellect, detective skills, science and technology, wealth, physical prowess, and torture" to get the job done at the end of the day. Now that's badass! Sounds a little James Bond-ish, no? And who doesn't love the idea of James Bond running around in a tight costume cleaning up American streets??
I could go on, but at this point if you can't appreciate the originality that is Batman, there's really no point in trying to sway you. You're either in love with another slightly less awesome superhero (which is forgivable), or you've packed away your childhood and creativity hat with your trunk of action figures long ago. If you fall under the latter category then you have my deepest sympathy. Life without a little imagination, hope, and inspiration is much darker than The Dark Knight.
Anyone at happy hour last night knows that the morning after requires a recap of the most ridiculous fist-of-fury induced discussion of all time.
Brandon, the lovely male voice of reason in our almost exclusively estrogen clique, joined a few of the ladies at Front Page yesterday evening and found himself trapped in one of our regular sucka free bitch fests. We were recapping some drama for your mama that of course related to one of our girls becoming the victim of a guy's mind games. We explained the scenario to Brandon (he says he wants to just stay friends, she agrees, but they still continuously hook up, yadda yadda). He then cracks an egg of knowledge and provides us with the unforgettable explanation of "I'm a hot stove, don't touch me."
Brandon's reasoning came down to this: if a guy is clear and puts it out there that he is interested in being only friends with a girl (nothing more) he cannot be held responsible for her advances because unfortunately for men, they use two conflicting brains to think and shouldn't be blamed for the biological defect. As Brandon so eloquently put it, if you tell someone not to touch a hot stove because he/she will burn him/herself, you cannot be held responsible for his/her decision to go ahead and touch the stove anyway. Metaphorically speaking, a dude is like a hot stove, and if he puts the disclaimer out there that he has no romantic interests, a chick should not hold it against him if they engage in "more-than-friendly" relationships without a romantic outcome.
Of course this lecture produced wild fists of fury, not because we were upset at his explanation but because we knew he was right. However, I cracked a few more eggs on knowledge to hit Brandon back with the omelet that most dudes aren't clear about their intentions. Athanasty backed my reasoning up by stating that a guy knows he can't be clear if he knows that it will prevent him from getting laid. So he relies on the ambiguous, hoping she gets the point but will still hook up with him anyway. We tell Brandon that while he thinks he is free from blame, any ounce of ambiguity almost instantaneously places the fault on him. We are smart girls. If someone actually said to me, "I have no intention of being there for you emotionally, supporting you in your daily life, or even calling you tomorrow" I seriously doubt that I would say "that's cool" and proceed to take my clothes off.
What our sucka free bitch fest concluded:
1. Women are ruled by emotion; men are ruled by whichever had has more blood flowing to it.
2. Women almost cannot help getting attached; men are ambiguous on purpose.
3. Brandon has the most amazing hand gestures (I'm referring to when he make the insane hand gesture both around his head and his happy place).
Okay, this song is more of a guilty pleasure than anything else. My spin class will work out to it because the cadence is just right for a steady climb up a long hill. I don't care much for this alternative hip hop band, altho I commend these boys for diligently trying to abandon the gangster thug image of rap and hip hop. Kudos for redefinition. Anyway, as I was saying, this song in particular is an easy listening summer catch. Check out "You've Got Me" by One Block Radius.
Things to look forward to in the near future-
1. Getting Tans back in our lives. She's presently in day 2 of the BAR exam!
2. The Olympics and Restaurant Week. It's the same week, let's have a pony social hour following dinner reservations and watch Mr. Phelps strut his sexy self 'round the pool.
3. More birthday celebrations. This summer has just been silly when it comes to bdays.
4. Beck's Bachelorette Party. K's getting married = we're getting twisted.
5. The season 4 premiere of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia-- "I'm chopping all of my action....and mostly power."
---update to 21 day challenge---
(see blog entry 7/2/08 "Three Weeks To Better Living")
My three week challenge to better living was surprisingly successful. I no longer crack my knuckles and thus have dropped a bad habit. As for gaining a good habit, I believe this one is still a work in progress. So far my goal to get into better shape is proving successful. But three weeks is not long enough to check this one off the list. For my next 21 day challenge I plan to continue to build the habit of a healthier lifestyle through diet and exercise and drop the bad habit of financial laziness. I've slowly allowed myself to slip into some debt as I've carelessly charged my purchases willy-nilly. Starting today I'm getting my butt into gear and cutting back on unnecessary spending while tracking my expenses regularly.
Of course I created a sexy excel sheet to pump me up.
My second favorite thing after lists is spreadsheets.
Yep, certified loser ladies and gentlemen :)
Back in 2001, I believed I was the luckiest girl in the world when I got my first car...a 1991 Mercedes Benz 190E. It was the girliest of girly cars with a cream exterior & interior. I even had one of those jade Chinese protection charms hanging from the rear view mirror (courtesy of Zsa zsa). Little did I know this car would gradually deteriorate into it's current disgraceful lemon state.
Let me first give you a brief blue book background of the car. In October, 2005 my bonehead brother was racing around a cul-de-sac and lost control of the vehicle before wrapping it around a tree that was....wait for it....in a person's front yard. Not sure what effed it up more...the tree or the rock wall he scaled before meeting the lumber. Flash forward a few months to Christmas 2005. The bro and I are driving on our merry way to our aunt's house to pick up her infamous jello pie. We're are driving down the main street of her town when were are suddenly hit by not one but two cars (one was an SUV going at least 60mph according to the police report). In addition to these two major incidences, I've have one fender bender and my brother has witnessed the Mercedes receive hit and runs in parking lots on at least two occasions.
These accidents have earned the Mercedes the reputation of "The Thank". It is virtually indestructible. It's endured war after war and each time it escapes with minor battle wounds. Unfortunately these scars have added up overtime. Driving with my brother this weekend in NJ, we decided to make inventory of all the bumps and bruises:
1. The car leaks oil or some other black sticky substance as a result of the engine (or some other crucial car body organ) being cracked in the tree incident.
2. The car stereo does not play CDs. When we had the three car accident, the stereo actually popped out of the dashboard and flew into the front seat.
3. The antennae has been AWOL for at least a year and a half. The only way to listen to music in the car is through the bootleg iPod my brother hooks up to it. Apparently his broke-ass generation 4 iPod is the only musical device compatible with our lemon-mobile.
4. The air conditioning has been broken since last summer. As a result one must drive with all four windows down for prime air circulation.
5. Given the added noise from wind, one must listen to the music at its highest volume setting.
6. Unfortunately listening with the volume on max blew out the majority of the speakers in the car. Only the front left speaker works.
7. For an unexplained reason, when the car turns left, the music fades to static. When the car turns right, the music ceases altogether.
8. Although this has little to do with the car, it's noteworthy (and ridiculous). The iPod actually skips if the car drives over bumps in the road (yes my brother has the sole iPod that actually skips like a discman) and it will shut off altogether if you slam the car door shut.
9. The check oil light has been on since 2003.
10. The right side view mirror is locked in a downward facing position. This is the greatest mystery, and we suspect Zsa zsa knows something about it since she keeps blaming my brother for it.
And of course it's a gas guzzler. Thank goodness I don't need a car in DC. Missing the District...heading back tomorrow AM.
Most people are familiar with Sam- voted America's uglist dog for three years before passing away to relieve his title. Last year's winner, Elwood, recently competed again for his title. I was certain he would hold onto it.
I've lived in the District for six years now, and my preferred method of transportation has always been les pieds. I've owned two bikes, tried the roller blading thing, and habitually use the metro. But my feet always get me where I need to go, even when crammed into uncomfortable 4 inch BCBG heels.
The amount of walking I do in a regular week is a decent work out that is surprisingly entertaining. I'm able to observe the quirky characters that give the DC metro area its pizzaz.
Noteworthy persons recently spotted:
1. Mr. "Too Cheap to Invest In A Decent Pair of Sunglasses"- This guy, and others like him, is on his way home from work sporting day-worn khakis, a plain white collared shirt, paisley printed tie and top sliders. He believes he looks fly strutting down the city streets, still cool from the metro's underground as he walks in the shade of the city buildings. But as he rounds the corner where the buildings part and no longer provide shade from the sun's relentless heat, he makes that face squinty face to keep the sun out of his eyes. Normally I wouldn't be attracted to this type of guy to begin with, but even if there was a small chance that his gentle face could woo me for just a second, it was jaded by the fact that he looked like a jacked up quasimodo disoriented by contact with sunlight.
2. "Mr. Wastey Face Before Happy Hour Even Begins"- I spotted this dude in the DuPont metro yesterday evening . I was on my way home after running an errand and was in somewhat of a rush because I had plans to meet a few of the girls for drinks before going out. Mr. Wastey Face was pacing the platform, making that swollen cheek face look...the kind you make when you are fighting the urge to exhale hard or burp in fear that an alochol induced vom may follow. I checked my watch...only a little after 6pm, and this guy was completely twisted. His eyes kept rolling back into his head as he swayed waiting for the next train. But this wasn't even the highlight. Once on the train heading toward Glenmont, Mr. W.F. notices his shoe was untied and tried to tie it. He unsuccessfully continued his attempts for three metro stops. I exited the metro at Chinatown with Mr. W.F. still fiddling with his laces. My hope is that he made it to that AA meeting without tripping over his own feet.
3. Miss "Melty Face"- She is similar to, but should not be confused with Mr. Wastey Face, altho for all we know they may be kin. I saw her last night in the lobby of my apartment building shortly after midnight when I returned home from a jam session with C and Athanasty. Miss Melty Face was standing barefoot with her heels in hand, both dress straps down, and an exposed black bra cup hanging out of her dress. Her make up was allergic to her face (an unfortunate consequence of too much alcohol consumption). She was in an argument with my building security guard, cussing him out for not letting her enter the building to use the public restroom on the terrace level. Why was he preventing her entry? Cause Melty Face didn't live in my building! Lord knows where she came from. I'm convinced she was a K Street Trick who wandered into my building in hopes of cleaning the sex germies off her body in the bathroom sink or taking a pregnancy test to then disguard in the trash---don't think I didn't find the last one.
Of course there are many more "special" characters encountered on a daily basis- men and women alike. Stay tuned for future strange encounters.
There was a pile of snow on the corner of 2nd and P Streets SW this morning on my way to work. Explain...
We’ve got so many friends
That wear their feet too big for their shoes
We’ve got cities to visit
We’ve got trees we’ve yet to live in
tegan.and.sara
come.on.kids
Zab and I have been exchanging emails all day as he mans the teller desk at a local bank branch. His afternoon parting email:
I'm going to lunch, but I've decided I'm going to try and convince the other tellers i have a little daughter. it should be fun. peace.
I met Cisco Adler in Miami about a year ago.... well "met" is a stretch. I ran into him at Love Hate Bar along South Beach's Washington Ave Strip. He is vile, grungy, and somehow deliciousy sexy with his long messy hair, gangster hats, and porno facial hair. He's half of the "Shwayze" music act and surprisingly offers something good to the music world. Check out Shwayze's latest single "Corona and Lime."
I thought about the smiling faces that grace my presence year by year....
Some belong to strangers
But most are those I know well and hold dear.
And I thought about the laughs shared through the months
As we celebrate birthdays, dance, sing, and live life merrily.
I thought about the weeks we long to get through
To be together on weekends
And live this beautiful life.
I think of the nights we've toasted to
And the lazy days that follow.
And I think of the minute that changes everything,
When one of those faces fades from view
Hopefully leaving us for a better place
But surely leaving us sadder, lonelier, and emptier inside.
For those who have passed, you are not forgotten
And for those here right now, do not forget.
I love you all, my friends.
R.I.P. Tim
http://www.thebaynet.com/news/index.cfm/fa/viewstory/story_ID/9180
I loathe Jason Taylor. I will stay true to my Skins, but I still do not care for that man.
http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=3497625
The Pony Express brought it strong last night. The call for celebration was none other than Athanasty's birthday. As the youngest (by far) member of the crew, we partied it up to celebrate the last strand of youth we're all holding onto as she finally turned 23.
The partying went down at The Park, a poshy-zsi-zsi club on 14th street right across from McPhearson Square (also known as Homeless Park to any local residents). Athanasty had a table reserved on the second floor overlooking the main entrance. Perfect for people watching (which it what the Pony Stalkers do best).
Some of the poorer decision of the night included the ice fight--brought about by none other than Athanasty herself, per usual, and Val's decision to have a 3 second pound fest on the tequila with Shoe. The two of them were wastey face early on, which provided for many entertaining photos throughout the night.
The festivities last until the wee hours of the night. At the end of the night I could be found crawling home in my flip flops, Calvin Kline heels in hand, with C and Shoe staggering two steps behind me.
Amen to youth and cheers to the rest of the birthday weekend ahead. Next on the list: Dark Knight, Tony Cheng's (mmmmm Mongolian BBQ), and tubing.
With the economy sucking harder than babies on breasts, and while politicos bother themselves with talks of social liberties that really aren't the primary concern of a commander in chief, I'd just like to take the second to remind all complacent Americans that we are still involved in TWO wars.
http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/07/17/airborne.soldiers.family/index.html
The election and innuaguration could not come any sooner.
climbed up on the rainbow
just to see if I'd fall off
I'm a frosted lemon coward
and I dont know how
no dont know to hold you
without shaking
no I'm not aware of how
I could possibly love you
without aching [...]
I've gotta love myself
and take care
and so keep the light on before
ya hop into bed
cos, baby, this is the last
honest love I'll ever give
tegan.and.sara
this.is.everything
My brother has been a loyal Packers fan since he was 7 or 8 years old. Also a blogger, Zabumafu posted this hi-freakin-larious entry on his blog.... a letter to Brett Favre.
http://iamnotbenji.livejournal.com/2008/07/16/
Get on it bbs, stubhub is the bomb. Just scored seats to both the Skins v. Rams game on 9/21 and the Skins v. Eagles game on 12/21. Tix were under $100 for lower level, which is generally unheard of!! Can't wait for football season.
This Danish Pop group is so sweet, I may have diabetes. Love them and this single "What is Happening". Check out other snappy singles like "Nothing But my Baby" and "Fascination".
As we approach the single engine Cessna plane I can barely hear Grant's direction on how to situate myself behind the pilot. Minutes earlier we were about 50 feet from the plane and it's rotating propellers. Grant was holding the video camera attached to his helmet as he asked me, "Mb tell us what you're doing here today."
"I'm about to jump out of a perfectly good airplane," was my response to him, the camera, and my two supporters: Nessa and Fatty.
My two childhood friends from New Jersey arrived Friday night in the District in preparation for our next greatest adventure. Sky diving. Fatty and I had been planing this feat for a while now. Already having been rescheduled from our original date of June 21, 2008, we were more than pumped to get to the drop zone and gear up for our first dive. Our Friday night celebration was meant to be tame...just a few drinks with old friends. But when three's company gets together, we live it up and of course we ended up shutting the bars down that night. We returned to my apartment only to rise a few hours later for our drive out to the Eastern Shore in Maryland.
We left ambitiously early Saturday morning in fear of beach traffic. However, the traffic gods were on our side and we arrived in approximately two hours. Fatty and I were scheduled to jump at 11am. Nessa was there for support and prime spectator seating. Unfortunately the drop zone was swamped with eager first time divers and the staff was short handed with one of the key instructors calling out sick. However, we were not going to allow a few set backs ruin our day. Today was the day we fly, and we would wait as long as necessary.
Five hours in the sun passed as Nessa, Fatty, and I entertained ourselves and our new friend Melissa who managed the general administrative operations around the drop zone. We laid out in the hammock and patio chairs, watching other divers gracefully sail down, dive after dive. And finally, Grant (my videographer for the dive) stood before me with his helmet cam, uttering that fateful question before suiting me up and leading me towards the plane.
We've boarded the plane and Bob, my tandem dive instructor, is seated before me with Grant to my left as we make our way down the tarmac and prepare to take off. The engine is roaring, but I am surprisingly calm as the plane leaves the ground and begins to climb 10,000 feet. I watch the altimeter on my wrist as the needle steadily climbs 1,000....2,000....3,000. As we approach 5,000 feet (the halfway mark), Grant turns the camera back on and asks me how I feel now that we're at the midpoint. Part of me wants to bust out Bon Jovi's lyrics-- "Whooooaaaa, we're halfway there...." but the other part of me is overwhelmed with it all. I have been wanting to experience this thrill for as long as I can remember. All I managed to say is "I'm kind of scared but pumped."
I have no idea why I said I was scared. There was not an ounce of fear in me to be honest. I've wanted to do this for so long, and even with death as risky possibility, I knew my genetic programming contained the code for skydiving. I had to do this, if only once.
By the time we reach 9,000 feet, Bob has already locked his harness into mine. We are a joined tandem unit as the altimeter needle strike 10,000 and the cabin door flies open. Grant steps out onto the small step outside the plane and hangs on to the wing and I creep towards the door per Bob's instructions. The wind is moving so fast and seems to want to rip the skin of my bare legs. I struggle to get them out the door and pivot to allow my instructor to maneuver us the rest of the way. The plane engine cuts and the plane tips us out the door.....
Those fifteen seconds of free fall seemed to pass in the blink of the eye. In those brief moments I saw the world. I felt the exhilaration of life as I soared through the clouds, flashing Grant my signature rock star sign for the camera to capture. I wanted to defeat gravity forever.....
And then the parachute opened. Grant continued to fall below us, deploying his parachute a few thousand feet later so that he would be on the ground to capture my landing. Bob and I continued to sail through the air with our parachute for another ten minutes or so before sliding into the landing field. As he removed his harness from mine I thanked him for being the man that will forever be known as giving me the greatest thrill of my life.
I finally saw the Sex and The City movie....talk about waiting it out. I was desperately trying to catch up on the series so that the girls and I could see the film before it left theaters. I started watching the episodes in order (since I was an SATC virgin) around Memorial Day and finished the series' finale on Wednesday of this week. Seeing the movie the very next day meant I was:
1) up to speed on all the series' plot twists and turns and
2) heavily invested in each character as I've watched them develop over the past month and a half
And just as everyone who has already seen it said, I absolutely loved the film. To be exact, I nearly lost my shit when Charlotte screamed at Big (with the finger point) in front of the Limo in the street. I never liked Charlotte in the series. To me, she was too optimistic, too much of a romantic... really, she was just too much. But that scene hit me so hard. It was my favorite...not because it was a slap in the face to Big but because it was so amazing to see 40-something year old women still being there for each other, probably more than ever before. As Carrie collapsed into Charlotte's arms, and Charlotte shot her halting hand at Big, I was overwhelmed by a rush of memories--of all the ups and downs the girls and I have witnessed.
I thought back to sophomore year in college, when I was sick in the hospital through part of November. Before we knew what it was, Spoogy sat by my side...in fear and in support. It was the first time I saw her cry.
I remembered the first night I really spent time with Buntz. She came over to my apartment after a night out on the town. I made her my favorite late night snack (melted cheese over crackers) and we talked about our lives and our families most of the night. She said something that night that I still remember, after I told her that one of my female friends has been having a sexual identity crisis. She said that for some people, it isn't so much about finding the right man or woman... it's about finding the right person, and falling in love with that.
I remembered crashing on SuziQ's papazan chair the first night I met her... how that chair opened the doorway for countless dinners, movie dates , and lazy nights on the couch.
I remembered the day Nessa called me in NJ, drunk and stranded at a house party, unable to drive herself home. Fatty and I jumped in his car and picked her up.... he led the way in his jeep and I carefully drove Nessa's car behind him and she lay in a drunken stupor in the passenger's seat.
I thought about the night in Atlanta where K and I ran into our past, and how we summoned the strength to not let the man who brought us together break us down again.
A sushi date with Tans one night after studying came to mind. We had shared tales of our greatest heartaches over specialty house rolls. I felt so lucky that she would open up to me that way and offer a listening ear in return.
I remembered the first time I met Jiggs and thought that she's the most confident chica I've yet to meet. She has never led me to believe otherwise.
I thought back to the day I spent with Emily in Annapolis, catching up on our crazy lives that are anywhere from 30 to 3,000 miles apart. We made the mistake of mixing sushi and ice cream. A valuable lesson was learned.
I remember the day that C walked away from the man she believed to be the love of her life. Her heart broke because of him, and mine cracked to see the one girl who has put her trust in love countless times, get hurt again. Yet she moved on by throwing a break up celebration which introduced me to Shoe.
A year has passed since I've met him, so naturally that scene in the movie brought back all the good and bad memories of him. I remembered our first date at the sushi restaurant, when he laughed nervously when I didn't receive a joke well. I remembered the first night he cooked for me and the first night I allowed him to see me cry. And unfortunately, I remembered the day I thought I would never speak to him again;
I called Athanasty for advice and she reminded me how strong I was and how, regardless of the advice I received and what I thought might be the right the to do, ultimately I had to listen to my heart. I remembered how she has been a rock through similar roller coaster rides, proving that believing in yourself and looking on the bright side will carry you through life. So I listened to her, and it has made all the difference.
Memories ebbed and flowed in my sea of thoughts. Have I been leading by example? Have I allowed myself to be vulnerable enough to learn life's lessons. Can I trust that the next time I fall, I will get back up? So maybe at 24 I can't answer these questions, but I guess that's okay because at the end of the day, one thing is certain.... those individuals who have graced my life with their presence have all been my Charlotte, just as she was in that one scene. My friends have been my passion. They are in every smile, every goofy mishap, and all the emotions that I allow myself to emit. They have made me invincible...and this is why I can confidently join them in our regular declarations of "I LOVE US."
Although I was born in America, my upbringing reflected the kind one would find just before the fall of communism in Poland. My parents first spoke to me and Polish, switching to English only when they saw me struggling to communicate in Kindergarten. We ate Polish food. We had Polish friends. My bedtime stories painted images of heavily wooded Polish forests where children dressed in nomadic mountain peoples garb would play in strawberry fields all day and hide from the bells of the gypsies at night... quite different from what I witness in my NYC/NJ suburban community.
I am 100% Polish, which is a unique thing when you stop to think about it. I can count the number of friends I have, on one hand, that can claim full heritage to one ethnic group (Athanasty to Greece; Alli to Ghana; Leksy to Serbia). In a country where ethnic lines mix and melt, and in a world where globalization blurs identity lines, its refreshing to be able to say "Yes, I know where I come from."
The other weekend, at Buntz's beach home, the girls got into a conversation about birthdays. Per usual, the convo twisted and turned and somehow made way for Athanasty and myself to reveal that our cultures observes name days---in my case, in place of birthdays. For those unfamiliar with name days, they are tradition of celebrating a name on a particular day of the year. The selection of the name day often derives from religious significance (see the Christian Church calendar). For example, Zabumafu's Christian name (after St. Matthew) is celebrated on Feb 24th and 25th.
My parents, being the quirky and unpredictable Poles they are, surprised everyone when they named me after fruit/brandy. They blessed me with a French name, but consequently deprived me of a Name Day. I never gave much thought to name days until informing my friends of it's significance. Our recent discussion encouraged me to look up the names of my family members to learn their name days. I have to say that as ridiculous as some of spellings are, traditional Polish names actually are quite beautiful.
Leokadia (my great grandmother) - Dec 9
Magdalena (my cousin) - July 22
Zofia (my grandmother) - Sept 30
Julian (my grandfather) - Jan 9
http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~polwgw/namelist.html
So it's not quite the right spelling, but thanks UrbanDictionary.
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Mirabel
The more you know....so I had no idea that the hook from Notorious B.I.G.'s song "Notorious" was sampled from Duran Duran. http://youtube.com/watch?v=ytWIZHxolI0
I am an under-the-radar fan of Tegan and Sara. I've never been to a show and I don't generally promote their music anywhere except through random lyrics posting on this blog. But there is something about those twins that I love. They are folky and raw yet so simple. Their lyrics are piercing and leave a mark whenever I hear a new song.
So the twins have been featured in collaborations with various punk rockers to give a feminine touch to the generally hxc genre. Sara lent her vocals to The Reason's "We're so Beyond This" which was my jam until I heard Tegan's contribution to "Borne on the FM Waves" by Against Me!, a punk rock band from Florida.
And when I cry I do it all alone and on the floor
I get myself into the moment
Lose myself completely on it
And oh oh oh, I just need a second
one.second
tegan.&.sara
He turns 20 today. That makes him officially too old to be known as "my baby brother". Apparently he took off from work today, which I didn't know until Zsa zsa called me at work. Our conversation went something like the following:
Me: This is Mb
Zsa zsa: Hello [says full birth name].
Me: laughing cause she never calls me by my birth name Hey Mom.
Zsa zsa: I am calling to inform you that we are all playing hooky today. We are in Sandy Hook at the beach.
Me: Oh really? No wonder [Zab] didn't respond to my birthday email yet.
Zsa zsa: Yes, well I'm not feeling well so I called out. I need to go to the beach to get better. And [Zab] took off too. Dad took off from....awk pause because my father hasn't worked in years....well he finished the deck yesterday and needs a break.
Me: Great, well you all have fun.
Zsa zsa: Yes, so if you want to call us, we haven't changed our numbers. We're just playing hooky.
Me: K Mom. laughing at her need to tell me this Good to know.
Of all the controversial moral questions our ethics class has covered over the course of the semester, I would have never guessed that the morality of gambling and the legalization of drugs would be the most contentious debate. Unlike some of the other topics we've discussed, like free markets for organ sales or the morality for torture, it seems like my classmates felt strongly one way or another on the legalization of drugs and the morality of gambling. There was a narrow gray area as Mr. VP and Miss Silverspoon manned up the conservative side of the debate while my newest acquaintance, Egghead Hippie, represented the left.
Our discussion about these two separate moral topics melted together into the greater question over humanity's natural desire to obtain pleasure and whether or not it is moral to do so. One student argued that temptation and pleasure is natural, as seen in the Bible when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, but that we can be forgiven for seeking such pleasure. Mr. VP chimed in at this point to say that "what this fable means is that humans are greedy and seek out pleasure at the expense of the greater good." I had an eternal shocked "O" face for the remainder of the class. While I am no religious zealot, Mr. VP's classification of biblical scripture as a fable was surprising considering he comes across as a Bible bearing conservative ready to take on the next competitor in the struggle for virtue.
Miss Silverspoon made an interesting argument, but seeing as how I generally dislike the girl, I took on the inflated and exaggerated Devil's Advocate position to get a rise out of her. She argued that man, in a raw and natural state, unaffected by social construct does not crave heroin. Man has basic needs: food, sex, shelter. She said that while it is natural to human to seek pleasure, pleasure itself is very basic and found in the essences of life. I countered her to say that pleasure comes from risk taking and trying new things. Man needs food, but if man were to try cranberries and then strawberries and come to realize that he in fact prefers the strawberries, he will seek those out because they provide him greater pleasure. If this same man were to stumble across shrooms and consume those, he may find greater pleasure and opt to eat this new food which has a consequential but additional pleasure. So while man doesn't crave heroin, it is because he has not naturally come in contact with this manufactured drug. Arguably though, we can say that humans desire pleasure in an infinite amount and continue to seek it out by regular risk taking and bargaining. Man jumps off a cliff and into water only to find that the thrill of the jump is nearly intoxicating. So he does it again.
Returning to Miss Silverspoon's argument over necessities, I proposed that she look at it this way: I have cranberries, you have strawberries. I want what you have and will try to trade with you. Raw human nature dictates that if I can't get what I want I will compete with you to get what I desire. In the most basic sense, this means I will try to find another supply source or defeat you in some way to take your personal supply. In a more contemporary view, this means I will get a job or find a way to earn the strawberries I desire, and perhaps if my morals are low, I may steal from you. So in a way, it's not so much the desire that is immoral but the means to obtain the pleasure that is questionable.
This analysis and point of view left me wondering, at the end of class, is it drug usage that is immoral or the corrupt nature of the drug industry that is immoral. If it's the later, why don't we have the government legalize and federalize the drug market (both legal and illegal) to weed out immoral behavior? Or is that a completely contradictory expectation....that the government end corruption??
Egghead Hippie seemed to agree with me to an extent. He stated that classic liberal democracy (essentially the philosophy at core of our ethics debates) requires a certain amount of social and personal responsibility. The fact that government legalizes drugs or permits gambling doesn't mean that these activities are supported by the institution. Rather, the government is showing that it supports the public in making moral decisions based on their own intelligence and desires.
Of course this led to the debate over social welfare programs and the amount of government spending necessary to help addicts quit their drug and gambling vices at the end of the day. Anyway it was an dichotomous debate for our usually middle of the road class. I leave you with this food for thought.
high five for bunk beds
Wednesday: driving to Athanasty's old school mixed CDs; "Slow Motion for Me"; "I was cooler at 18 then we all are now put together"--Athanasty; arriving at beach home; discovering board games; board games go great with beer left over from super bowl weekend; Mrs. white with the wrench around her neck; "Colonel Mustard Don't Ask Don't Tell"--Buntz; using the mini revolver to shoot each other (Pyuhhhh = gun sound); Athanasty failing to win a single round of Sorry; Buntz uncovering childhood squirt guns; getting shot with 14 year old water from inside squirt gun; squirt gun fight in the front yard; punching the decorative fish on the wall; going to sleep wastey face.
Thursday: beachy time; Spoogy arrives; Splink Splink...Splunk; True TV; Jiggs arrives with Willow and KtF; buddy system instated; night 1 at the Rutter; Athanasty humping Buntz on stage; getting kicked off the stage repeatedly by the bouncers; hat stealing; Cupid Shuffle; Buntz's cousin's boyfriend hitting on our crew; dropping purse and losing contents; freaking out at Athanasty for no reason other than sadness of lost items; long walk home; "Do you think the paddy cab would be free if I offered to ride the bike?"--Jiggs.
fake tattoos make regular appearances
Friday: grocery shopping for dinners of tacos, hot dogs, and mac-n-cheese; beachy round 2; freezing cold water; taco dinner a la Willow and KtF; pregame jones; fake tattoo nation; "Never have I ever" and "I have but I bet you haven't"; mega sprint to the cars in the pouring rain; night 2 at the Rutter; more hat stealing and Cupid Shuffling; Buntz's cousin's boyfriend hitting on our crew again. mixing incompatible shots; Athanasty getting the shifty tummy; SuziQ out-sprinting Sorority bitches to hail a cab; getting into a verbal altercation with a pair of Queens; having a cop finally call a cab for us; "Watch me walk with my strong legs"--Jiggs; someone peeing in the front yard; spilling milk all over the kitchen; "Never have I ever been naked throwing up in the back yard"--KtF.
Hat Stealers Annonymous
Saturday: late and painful start; reviewing photographic evidence from the night before; "Telling [Buntz] not to bend over is like telling the sun not to rise"--Athanasty; "I like to read the bible as I quilt"; watching "Undeclared" with Athanasty while the rest of the crew hit the outlets; hot dogs and mac-n-cheese dinner a la Willow and KtF; "Crackers crackers I despise, I throw hot sauce in their eyes"--Jiggs; Willow, Jiggs, and KtF leave; scoping the scene at North Beach before commencing night 3 at the Rutter; Buntz getting a proposition to see Wall-E, share a tub of popcorn and a coke with two straws; Buntz's cousin's boyfriend hitting on our crew yet again. Spoogy getting shoved by a guy; bad male dancers and short haired tattooed white trash women.
Sunday: operation clean Buntz's home; drop off Spoogy at bus stop; finish watching the series of "Undeclared"; roll out back to DC; WaWa goodness; more of DJ Athanasty; "If I had a mix to listen to during my last meal it would have this song on it"--Buntz; too much traffic; too much rain; long metro wait with SuziQ; Jesus loving us enough to make the rain stop while we walked home.-----from this past weekend in NY/NJ-----
Marquis: I'm not drunk!
Buntz: Then stop lifting up my skirt!!
(at UnderBar in Union Square)
Fatty: Yep, Siefried and Roy are gay. Sorry.
Zsa zsa: Nooooooo, but they are so good with animals.
(yes, my best friend and my mother discussed this the other night over coffee)
Zabumafu: I'll show you what I can do with it if you don't mind me biting it.
(my bro describing a new trick he learned to do with my slap bracelet)
I am inspired by my friend and fellow blogger, KtMacD (kitkatktmac.blogspot.com) to take the 21 day challenge. They say it takes 21 days to make or break a habit; and if that's true, there are certainly a few habits I'd like to kick and a couple I'd hope to adopt.
Bad Habits (to break):
-knuckle cracking
-late night eating (because I stay up too late)
-drinking too much caffeine (consequently because I stay up too late)
-swearing, burping, and other bad things that come out of my mouth
Good Habits (to build):
-running/working out
-cleaning (more regularly)
-cooking (again, more regularly)
-getting to bed earlier
-reading before bed (instead of TV)
So for my first 21 day challenge, which requires that you do/don't do something for 21 days straight, I will try to break and build a habit. Will keep you posted on how successful this is and whether or not I can successfuly drop one habit for another.
First challenge will require me to stop cracking my knuckles in exchange for pursuing a healthier work out routine.
As a native Canadian, Kardinal Offishall can be considered an amabassador of hip hop. Perhaps it is Jamaican roots or the fact that his first live performance was in front of Nelson Mandela. Whatever the inspiration or motivation to make music, I'm diggin Kardinal Offishall's sound and his latest single "Dangerous".
Although only a few people were there to witness the pony walls and enjoy the pony jokes that followed, our extended crew will undoubtedly become known as the pony express since its irrational to think pony jokes could possibly end once they've started (similar to dead baby jokes).
I invited The Pony Express to leave there favorite pony menu items in the comments portion of this post so that the laughter may be shared and continued.
Personal favorites thus far:
Pony Tartare (Spoogy)
Pony waffles (Enrique)
Kung Pao Pony (SuziQ)
Egg McPony (Me)
A wave of relief passes over me. June is finally over and somehow I've made it out in one piece. I just looked at my calendar and counted, starting from last night, 11 nights in a row of less than five hours of sleep. They need to design a special rehab for people like this: working professionals by day, rock stars by night.
June has always been notoriously chaotic each year. For starters, it marks the beginning of summer, so every weekend is an attempt to get the most out of the longer and warmer days. I find myself saying yes to more outdoor evening happy hours, BBQs, field trips, etc. And then of course, June is a huge birthday month. In the span of one week alone there were six birthdays to celebrate.
The crazy month ended with an impromptu trip to NYC to visit Spoogy (the college roommie) and family. SuziQ and I caught a bus Friday evening out of DC and took a looong bus ride up to the big apple to meet up with Spoogy and Buntz (who had taken an earlier bus). SuziQ and I witnessed significant traffic along the way, due to three car accidents. Our delays were only exacerbated by track work on the A train that held us in the city subway tunnels for far too long for my liking. But we arrived close to midnight, threw on our party dresses and game faces before heading out on the island to catch up with friends.
Friday night wasn't necessarily memorable for posh venues and glamorous people. We kept it pretty low key, hunting for attractive rooftop bars to catch a reasonably priced drink and sexy view of the city. One of the bars falsely advertised online that their outdoor bar was completed and open for the season; however, our visit only revealed and empty rooftop located in creepy building walled with pony fur....that's right I said pony fur. Pony, as in the animal companion I begged for as a little girl. Not horse. Not wildebeest. Cute, soft, cuddly pony fur up and down the walls of this incomplete bar and building. I was most disturbed by the decorative use of pony fur because, while I'm all about wearing the skin of what you eat, I can't imagine that someone actually ate pony after skinning it. I'm sure there are people out there that eat pony, but the thought of it disgusted me so much that I did what I do in most nauseating circumstances.... I made a joke out of it along with everyone else. The rest of the night was dedicated to pony humor. For example, the diner we ended the night in featured a special of surf n turf: Lobster and Pony. Spoogy opted for the Pony Omelet, while Enrique selected a lighter appetizer of Pony fingers. I skipped the meals and went straight for the dessert, Pony A La Mode. Susan threatened to puke up pony brains if we didn't stop our psycho babble. It was all in a night of good fun.
After Friday night, the weekend kicked off with a rush and hustle to squeeze in as much activity as possible. This included seeing family, going to a going-away-celebration for a priest at my parents' church, meeting up in Manhattan for Round 2 of NYC action- pony style- with the ladies, and catching up with Jersey friends. Come Monday, I was spent but had trouble sleeping through the 4.5 hours bus ride back to DC, probably due to the presentation I had to make in class that evening.
After an exciting weekend, I am pumped for Independence Day Raucousness which will inevitably include junk food and beer, rap music and fights, SPF 50 spray, pony jokes, and fists of fury.
