I, Lenni, do hereby resolve...

HAPPY NEW YEARS and shit!!!

I plan to drive way out to the wilds of upstate New York and chill with some college buddies. I hope that the quantity and quality of alcohol will validate such a long trip....oh and seeing my friends again.

As it is resolution time, I'd like to present some gems from the general advertising world:

"Make a resolution you can keep. Watch more CBS Daytime."
Translation: You fat slob. Don't even waste time bothering the people who work out at the gym all year long. They'd much rather you get your stomach stapled shut and keep up with Luke and Laura instead.

"This year we're changing the way resolutions are done. Instead of writing a list of our own personal faults that we intend to improve, we have decided to give everyone we know a list of their faults and things we wish they would resolve to improve. This can be quite helpful for the wayward souls who make resolutions about all the wrong things and don't even realize the true flaws they need to fix." -- Powells Books
Translation: This is a fantastic idea! You are a whiny ass who nobody likes. Fix that before you vow to fit into that bikini.

I'm sorry. I'm in a bad mood. I was in a bad mood yesterday. So I came home hoping to enjoy some of Grandma's cookies but someone had eaten them. It's my fault I guess. I left them in plain view. Also, someone used the last of my mouthwash, leaving the empty bottle in my shower caddy. STOP EATING, DRINKING, GARGLING, STEALINGANDTHENRETURNING MY THINGS!!! THEY'RE MINE!!! MINE!!! *breathe* and no I'm not an only child. (but the housemates in question are)

No comment.

Canada Oks group sex The haven for dissatisfied politicos (sometimes known as hippies and draft dodgers) has just offered a new incentive to cross the border. "However deviant they may be or however disgusting they may seem" swinger clubs have been reopened by the courts. Well, those dirty dirty Canucks have to keep warm somehow.

As my friend Andrew pointed out, "I don't trust them. 80% of Canadians live near the border. WHAT ARE THEY GATHERING FOR!?!" The answer, apparently, is not global domination but group sex.

Philosophy anyone?

Siiigh. Witty repartee exhausts me.

Hoo-ray!

I got new doorknobs! I got new doorknobs! I got new doorknobs hey hey hey hey! Is it sad that the highlight of my weekend was that the doorknob fairy visited? I mean, I did have fairly eventful weekend: I got a cheese pot and some used sunglasses at my office Christmas party. Went to see Seasonal Disorder. Woke up bright and shiny Saturday morning with the largest zit I ever seen in my entire life. And it was near my mouth! (It has since been eradicated) I went on a 7-mile long hike with two 60 year old men who are both in better shape than I am. (Depressing. And I'm still sore.) Went on a date with my MC who turned not to be my MC but a nice guy nonetheless. (And Jewish. Is anyone surprised? I think it's God's way of telling me to hit on people at Church.) Sat around recovering from my hike, observed my housemates Christmas shop, and sat around some more.

BUT THE DOORKNOBS!

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far, away, a young woman once had to use the restroom. This poor woman (we'll call her Lenni) closed the bathroom door without realizing that there wasn't a doorknob on the inside...or outside for that matter. When it was time to leave, she realized that her only hope was to alert her housemate and his friends to her plight. However, they were in the basement writing a new song and generally being raucous and could not hear her pleas for help, banging on the radiator, frequent flushing, or other noisemaking attempts. The cat did and started scratching on the door but lets face it -- cats are usless. An hour, two bent nail files, and a few tears later, another of Lenni's housemates returned to discover and rescue her. Since then, poor Lenni had been slightly post-traumatic about using the restroom. Despite the reattachment of said doorknob (only the inside one) it still took at least five minutes of subsequent visits to escape the confines of the porcelain throne-room....until the new knobs were installed. And there was much rejoicing.

And she's back...

...on the market!

Here's a bit of color for your otherwise dreary day.

'A white one.'

In this Christmas (Channukah, Kwanzaa, Diwali, Ramadan, Festivus, snowy) Season, I reflect on all the unsolicited advice I've been given by family members over the years:

"Brush your teeth!"
"Make your bed!"
"You should have a boyfriend."

I mean really. Did I ask you?

However, my sweet dearest baby brother (22 years old and 6ft) has, in fact, offered some gems:

"Don't ever say sorry unless you hit someone in the balls."
"If someone asks you what kind of car you drive don't ever answer 'a red one.'"
"Fish for compliments. Guys love that."

That last one was in response to a conversation we were having. My friend Katie had asked if my new boy-toy had told me I was beautiful. I'm pretty sure he hasn't. However, I've decided to compliment myself:

"I have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen!"
"Damn, my ass looks great in these pants!"

Joey said I could.

Oh nuts!

Ah the sweet sweet joy of a hangover. Feel the throbbing in your head, the points of light as you turn your head, squinting into the brightness. Revel in your gastrointestinal turmoil threatening explosive orifices. Relax as you spin around the room....or as your room spins around you. Wonder how you removed your shoes but not your coat before falling asleep and celebrate the fact that you apparently had the forethought to delicately place a garbage can near your bed.

I dedicate this thought to Meg on the aftermath of her birthday. I curse the stupid bartender who thought whiskey was a good idea. And I thank that Chris guy for his salty nuts.
-----------

So besides my Missed Connection experiment (not going very well by the way), I am questioning yet another mystery of the metro. I, like many poor unfortunate souls, am subject to motion sickness. However, it seems to be sporadic. What is the determining factor of my alimentery happiness? Sitting position, number of cars, which car, food intake or output, reading material, temperature, presence/lack of hot young men to gaze longingly at, driver, time of day, previous alcohol consumption? Any ideas?

I have to figure this out because I am convinced that I will meet a fiery end in the traffic circle of death and dismemberment.

Cubical Po-em

Neither/nor
Is/or
While I was driving
with all the lights on
With justification, the coach suspended the players.
The planted seed that she bought yesterday in her garden
And
the one worked
which day have
when
Please come talk to me for a minute.
Pink Lady. 4130. Product of USA. Washington.
mini-pinces reliuses
OTHER.
to re-check.

the hair of expanding proportions

Lately I've had oodles of wonderful blog ideas. In fact, this morning I was planning on telling you about a highly editorialized piece that I heard on NPR about AIDS. They used an odd phrase to describe the disease that made me giggle. I opted to repeat it three times rather than write it down but I still forgot it. (Happy World AIDS Day by the way. Hey! I AM wearing red!) I also had similar plans to write a highly insightful review of RENT and to inform you all about gleeful sentence structure, with particular attention paid to dependent clauses and the correct use of the comma.

I suppose I could, instead, highlight some recent examples of my stupidity.
Me: I'm going to have to stay in DC this New Years because I don't have any vacation days. I had 24 hours but I took Friday off.
Meg: Um, Len...
Me: I get like 1.5 hour for every third day I work or something like that.
Meg: Um, Len...
Me: I know! It's crazy!
Meg: Um, Len....most work days are only 8 hours. You could take 3 days off.
Note to readers: I need plans for New Years.

I noticed that I often address my blog to my loyal reader(s). I similarly address my journal to my future grandchildren. However, I'm pretty sure my future grandchildren would respond with, "Ewww grandma! We didn't want to know that! lalala!" Speaking of family, my father has expressed interest in reading my blog. I suppose I'll have to find another venue for my Playboy-letter worthy exploits. Just kidding Dad...you can read them in Penthouse.

I have had an idea! (Not just now...it's been brewing for a while...but I thought you might want to hear about it.) Are you familiar with Missed Connections on Craig's List? I know you are, but I'll describe it anyway. Let's say you are wandering down the street and you pass a thoroughly charming young man (or woman, or old, whatever strikes your fancy). You feel a connection, a pang of longing perhaps, as you meet each other's eyes. (If you're me, you'll probably trip over something and fall into a garbage can at this point.) You turn back for a second glance, smile...but are too CHICKEN SHIT to say anything! Craig comes to the rescue. You can post a description of your encounter, hope against hope that your new love sees it, responds, meets you, and impregnates you numerous times (after marriage of course and obviously after a proper gestation period). An ideal system, it has since been bastardized into a way for men and women to lower the beauty of a fleeting electricity into a casual encounter. In essence, if I post a vague enough description flocks of women (or men, whatever) will respond, meet me, and buy me lots and lots of ponies.

So the idea? I will pick someone to choose for a missed connection every week. I don't even have to have any sort of connection with them. Eye contact, a verbal exchange isn't needed. I will simply pick someone I see and describe them on Craig's List to see what the responses are like. I plan to provide both for my loyal reader(s) on another blog. I have decided, that as a control, I will describe myself first.

If nothing else, this may be amusing and it will sharpen my use of description and adjectives in general for the time when I write my debut novel about a starving artist struck down by leprosy...and rabies.

Ok, if there are those who read this to see what I'm up to lately...um I went home for Turkey Day. yum. I'm back. yay.

Traffic circle of death and dismemberment

Greetings imaginary fans! What has happened lately you may ask? Let me enlighten you! I promise it will be illuminating, fascinating, titilating, and all with a touch of humor...and verve. gotta have verve.

10/28 Went to a party. "Met a cool [guy] I might go out with (thanks for the hookup)." Came home to a mess and the Silver brothers. Nothing happened. I swear.
10/29 Celebrated the dead. Saw RHPS. "Faked an orgasm and Josh talked about himself a lot."
10/31 Gangsta in Bal'more. Nothing happened. I swear.
11/4 Came to the realization that I'm a hipster-hater.
11/5 Took myself to the opera. It was lovely. No big-breasted, morbidly obese women wearing horns.
11/6 I'm "pretty nice." Moved in Meg. Fed me. Fed a homeless person.
11/7 Had a near death experience at the Cheesecake Factory. According to my witness' description on the incident report: "While eating the 'morning quesadilla' I came across a shard of glass in the guacamole. I discovered it after shoveling the avocado concoction in my mouth. I picked it from my mouth and placed it neatly on the side to present to the wait staff." I did suggest "daintily eating with pinkie extended" but that was shot down. I'm thinking of sueing for mental anguish but I wasn't all that anguished... I even ordered dessert.
11/10 Saw the Silver brothers in concert. Had interesting conversation about underwear. Garnered new nickname relating to aforementioned conversation. Nothing happened. I swear.
11/11 Nothing happened. I swear.
11/12 AM: Saw the baby panda. Was a disapointment. However, I did take a picture of the sleeping white ball of fluff.
11/12 PM: Difficult to classify. Something happened. And yet...nothing happened. I swear.
11/15 Walmart = Evil



I'm sorry. I'm too lazy to save this photo upright. Besides, the computer sounds like it will explode any minute.

Was this verveful enough?

Sleepy.

If I put my ear to my desk I can hear the ocean.

Dance, Dance, yeah

Narrator: "Larry will be performing the traditional Argentinian ballad,
'The Dance of the Cucumber,' in its original Spanish. Bob the Tomato
will translate."

Larry: "Miren al pepino"
Bob: "Watch the cucumber"

Larry: "miren como se mueve"
Bob: "see how he moves"

Larry: "como un leon"
Bob: "like a lion"

Larry: "tras un raton."
Bob: "chasing a mouse."

Larry: "Miren al pepino"
Bob: "Watch the cucumber"

Larry: "sus suaves movimientos"
Bob: "Oh, how smooth his motion"

Larry: "tal como mantequilla"
Bob: "like butter"

Larry: "en un chango pelon."
Bob: "on a ... bald monkey."

Larry: "Miren al pepino"
Bob: "Look at the cucumber"

Larry: "los vegetales"
Bob: "all the vegetables"

Larry: "envidian a su amigo"
Bob: "envy their friend"

Larry: "como el quieren bialar"
Bob: "wishing to dance as he"

Larry: "Pepino bailarin, pepino bailarin, pepino bailarin"
Bob: "Dancing cucumber, dancing cucumber, dancing cucumber"

Larry: "Baila, baila, ya!"
Bob: "Dance, dance, yeah!"

Larry: "Miren al tomate"
Bob: "Look at the tomato"

Larry: "no es triste?"
Bob: "Isn't it sad?"

Larry: "El no puede bailar."
Bob: "He can't dance."

Larry: "!Pobre tomate!"
Bob: "Poor tomato!"

Larry: "El deberia poder bailar"
Bob: "He wishes he could dance"

Larry: "Como el pepino"
Bob: "like the cucumber"

Larry: "libre y suavemente."
Bob: "free and smooth."

Larry: "Pero el no puede danzar."
Bob: "But he can't ... Okay! Stop the music! What do ya mean I can't
dance? I can dance! What about Uncle Louie's polka party? Didn't you see
me dancing at Uncle Louie's polka party?"

Larry: "No comprendo."

Bob: "No comprendo? I'll show you 'No comprendo'!"

Jr.: "Mom! Dad! Look over here! Get a picture of me next to the cucumber
in authentic Argentinian garb!"

Dad: "Okay, Junior. But we'd better hurry--I think the dwarves have your
mother confused with someone else! Say 'Peas!'"

All: "Peas!"

Larry: "Escuchen el pepino"
Bob: "Listen to the cucumber"

Larry: "oigan su voz fuerte"
Bob: "hear his strong voice"

Larry: "como un leon"
Bob: "like a lion"

Larry: "listo a devorar."
Bob: "about to eat."

Larry: "Escuchen al pepino"
Bob: "Listen to the cucubmer"

Larry: "que dulce as su canto"
Bob: "oh how sweet his voice"

Larry: "la voz de su garganta perece un triar."
Bob: "the breath from his throat is like a chorus of little birdies."

Larry: "Escuchen al pepino"
Bob: "Listen to the cucumber"

Larry: "los vegetales"
Bob: "all the vegetables"

Larry: "envidian a su amigo"
Bob: "envy their friend"

Larry: "como el quieren cantar."
Bob: "wishing to sing as he."

Larry: "Pepino cantador, pepino cantador, pepino cantador"
Bob: "Singing cucumber, singing cucumber, singing cucumber"

Larry: "canta, canta, ya!"
Bob: "sing, sing, yeah!"

Larry: "Escuchen al tomate"
Bob: "Listen to the tomato"

Larry: "?No es triste?"
Bob: "Isn't it sad?"

Larry: "El no puede cantar."
Bob: "He can't sing."

Larry: "Pobre tomate."
Bob: "Poor tomato."

Larry: "El deberia poder cantar"
Bob: "He wishes he could sing"

Larry: "fuerte y ducle como el pepino"
Bob: "strong and sweet like the cucumber"

Larry: "Pero no puede ..."
Bob: "But he can't ..."

Larry: "!Ni siquiera da un silbido!"
Bob: "Can't even ... whistle! All right! That's it Senor! Come over here
and let me sing YOU a song!"

Larry: "Adios, amigos!"

Narrator: "This has been Silly Songs With Larry. Tune in next time to
hear Larry sing ..."

Larry: "Bob is really angry! I hope he doesn't catch me! It's so hard to
run with this sombrero on my head

Circuits down

Just posting this before I forget. At my current place of employment I manage the peer review process for science research before it is published. Sounds impressive, huh? Well, the fact is, it is largely automated. I push a little button on the screen and the system sends out emails that are ostensibly from me. Many people respond to these automatically generated missives with questions or comments, to which I compose a response. As I reflect on this I wonder how many authors out there think I am completely schizophrenic. One day they'll get a message to the tune of:

Dear Dr. Breshears,
This is a gentle reminder that the agreed upon date or resubmission of the revision of your manuscript "The grassland-forest continuum: how woody-plant mosaics determine ecosystem properties within sites and along gradients" [Paper #05FRN0050] is October 15, 2005. To submit the revised manuscript, click on the below link.

And then, the very next day they get something like
this:

Dave,
I'll look for your paper after October 29. We recognize the numerous
commitments that authors have. (If it happens again we'll show up at your
doorstep) Please contact me if you have any questions or concerns.

Hmmm. I wonder.

Look! A diversion!

Who doesn't enjoy a little web cartoonage to waste the day with?

A softer world. Boy do I wish I were this creative. Be sure to check out the cover letters. giggle.
Boy on a stick and Slither. For some reason this cartoon reminds me of Andrew. He's slither: the caustic, slightly depressed, realist. I, of course, am the cute, perky, idealist with the really twiggy body and big head.
Bunny.Slightly less creepy than the suicidal bunny but just disturbing enough.
Dinosaur comics. My twiggy armed and ferocious brethren wax philosophical. Stomp!
Instant Classic. I don't think this one is all that funny. Why is it on this list?
John and John. Demented, I'm sure.

And the one that started it all... Questionable Content.

The internet will ruin my life. I'm sure.

the story of my (relationship) life

accismus (ak-SIZ-muhs) noun
Feigning disinterest in something while actually desiring it.
[From Greek akkismos (coyness or affectation).]

*whisper*labia*whisper*

"Life is pain. Anybody that says different is selling something." -- The Princess Bride by William Goldman

-----------

So I took my bike on the road for the first time this weekend. It was an easy, short, downhill route to the zoo and a slow, hard (teehee), uphill slog back home. But I did learn some things:

• It is way more dangerous to ride on the sidewalk than on the road. Cars try to avoid you and (hopefully) all go in the same direction. They also tend not to mutter "get off the sidewalk" at you. It IS legal to bike on the sidewalk in DC so pttth!
• It is a real pain in the ass to wait at lights when your bike is too big. Literally. As my housemate reminded me, "At least you don't have balls."
• It is harder than it looks to steer a bike into an elevator.
• Doing it backwards doesn't help.
• Falling down is a good way to meet guys. It's also a good way to get road burn and a nice bruise. However, I suppose that gives you an excuse to show the guy your lovely ass, legs, elbow, or whatever else happens to be bruised later.

The day star! It burns!

I saw the sun today! Really! I did! I'm not kidding! Ok. I am. It was dark. Nope! Just kidding! I saw the sun today!

-----------

On the ecology listserv that my e-mail can't seem to unsubscribe from they are currently having concurrent discussions about feral cats and intelligent design. Witness what happens when you combine the two:

"I propose that we take a hint from the Feral Cat Consortium and institute a capture-spay/neuter-release program for Creationists/IDists.

This would be a win-win situation, as Creationists would be spared the heresy of participating in evolution, and the rest of us would be spared the annoyance of Creationists participating in evolution. This obviously will not address the entire problem, since Creationists will still be able to prey on wildlife...."

Teehee. Silly PhDs.

-----------

Speaking of silly:

"On behalf of President Bush, thank you for your correspondence.
We appreciate hearing your views and welcome your suggestions.
Due to the large volume of e-mail received, the White House is unable to respond to every message, and therefore this response is an autoreply.

Thank you again for taking the time to write."

-----------

Look! The sun! Hahahahahaha. Made you look.

Notes from the workplace

Some days in my workplace boredom I reflect on whether I would be better suited to a different job or organization. But then where would I hear such comments from my coworkers. A sampling from this week:

"Damn you. Damn you and your cake."
"We'll buy you a whip and a chair and set you loose."

-------

I think for my blog to be noticed it has to be about politics, knitting, Katrina, or celebrity fashion. Alas, I am doomed to anonymity.

Lenni needs...

In a LiveJournal moment, I did one of those silly Google searches: type in "[your name] needs." To be real LJ you're supposed to bold the true ones and italicize the wanna be true ones and highlight the could be but'll never be true ones or some such nonsense. But this is a blog! A highly intelligent social commentary!

Plus, Google only had like three Lenni results...

lenni needs to have a pre-frontal lobotomy right away
lenni needs money and she cannot, CANNOT let herself give her any more!
lenni needs to get to work

It's all so true!

------------

Factoids that I learned this weekend:

In an effort to be more reflective of the times, Bible manufacturers have come up with the cyber Bible. This Bible, while faithful to the text and meaning of older versions, will replace words with online spellings. For example, create will be come cre8. (And God will say LOL as he smites His people.)

Men do not generally enjoy going to Church. (Perhaps this is because they can't wear their fancy dresses and new hats there.) Some random Christian denomination (next time I'll pay more attention) has decided to combat this trend with MANLY-Church. The Church meets in an old school gym and features artistic touches such as pine trees, a tent, and taxidermied animals. The men have fellowship around coffeee and donuts, and engage in prayer huddles. (No word yet on God strippers)

Women who are more intelligent are less likely to get married. For every ten points added to the average IQ, women decrease the likelihood of marriage by 60%. (I'd write something witty here but I'm too depressed by my old maid status.)

------

I'm wearing my happy sweater today.

S-P-A-M

"So go and forget your O-S-C-A-R. There's one meat by-product that's best by far.
It's...."

Hey, I have a great blog here! You should definitely bookmark me! I have FREE leads for your business. Hey, these are free for the asking. All you need to do is visit my website. Come and check it out if you get time :-)

"Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!"

I wanna hippopotamus for Chriiiiiiistmaaaaaas!

Only a hippopotamus will do. Really. Just a hippo. And a sports bra, long sleeved t's, work clothing (particularly nice long sleeved items with no collars), bedding for queen bed (primary colors), some sort or organizer thingie for jewelry, girl's bike seat, bike light, bike mirror, bike lock, dangly earrings (keep in mind i have a small head), maid service, ibook, ipod (or even a discman), adaptor for car, film, zoom lens (for Canon AE-1), lab time (or my own lab!), digital camera, picture frames, cds and books (see me for guidance), skis, trouser socks, gum, and a pony.

I'm a selfish bastard. Anyway hippos eat 100 pounds of vegetation a day. I couldn't afford to feed it.

Oh! And Happy Birthday Joey! Do you have a wish list prominently displayed in cyber space?

Bubble Gum & Spilled Soda

Recently, the Vatican announced that they will no longer accept gays in the priesthood. Iiiiinteresting. This caused a few questions to pop into my little pee-brain. What about the gays that are currently members of the priesthood? Will they be grandfathered in? Will the Vatican adopt something akin to the Army's "Don't ask. Don't tell?" And how will this reflect on the general Catholic sentiment that gays are okeydokey as long as they don't actually screw other people of the same sex? Aren't gays just supposed to ignore their sexual needs, accept God, and live a life of prayerful meditation? Sounds like a priest to me.

Speaking of sticky situations check out Peanut Butter & Tape

If you eat my ice cream I'll rip your arms off

So, I'm trying to sell my desk so I'm using this page temporarily to post a picture of said desk (or a similar one) and then link to Craiglist's. That's why the above photo is on my blog. Fascinating. If you want to buy it (or just get it the hell out of my room) then do so. NOTE: Real desk is black.

Rabblerabblerabble

I got a new mattress! I got a new mattress! I got a new mattress! Hey hey! Hey hey!

-----------



This weekend I went to the anti-war march in D.C. To be honest, my housemates and I were drawn in by the prospect of seeing Cindy Sheehan, Jesse Jackson, and Joan Baez and were further encouraged by the promise of some good tunes. It also seemed like a good people watching opportunity. However, it soon became more than that for me. I'm not even sure that I can express it in words. I just felt like crying...both happy and sad tears, the whole day.

I'm usually shackled by my sense of science. I like to see all sides of the story and have the options weighed thoroughly before commiting to anything (even small things) so I was inspired by all the passionate people. So many came to stand up for what they believe in. The posters, costumes, chanting, singing, and drumming, were signs of their effort. And the crowd definitely wasn't one dimensional. There were young and old, families, church groups, lesbian moms, labor unions, university students, veterans, and of course, throwbacks to the hippie days of old. I ran into people I knew from college, and in a scary moment, a picture of my high school teacher who died in Iraq. I was even inches away from Cindy and Jesse.



I got angry at the people on both ends who represented their causes poorly. "You suck" as chanted by one pro-war demonstrator is hardly a valid argument.

I was very impressed with the police presence, the respect shown to them, and their respect for the protestors.

However, despite it all, my favorite chant was still, "What do we want? Ice cream! Butter pecan? Butter pecan! Sounds good? Yumyum! Rabblerabblerabblerabble." And my favorite sign was an anti-protest reading "Hippies smell. Go home hippies...and take a shower."

I feel that I didn't do any justice to my feelings here.

Dance!

I'm getting a new bed on Monday! I'm getting a new bed! Hey, Hey! I'm getting a new bed on Monday! I'm getting a new bed! Hey, Hey! I'm getting a new bed on Monday! I'm getting a new bed! Hey, Hey! Monday! Monday! new bed! new bed! I'm getting a new bed on Monday! I'm getting a new bed! I'm getting a new bed on Monday! I'm getting a new bed! Hey, Hey! NEW BED!

(And a raindance for Meg...and the people in Wisconsin)

So says the queen of Non-sequiter

I've had several ideas for this blog post. Unfortunately I didn't write any of them down.

Idea #1

Top 5 Songs That I will Never Get Tired Of:
1.This Side - Nickel Creek
2.Mad World - Michael Andrews
3.Bad Day- Daniel Powter
4.Somebody to Love - Queen
5.Winding Road - Bonnie Sommerville

Idea #2

Anti-Social Advice(?):

You are not your job. You are not how much money you have in the bank. Not the car you drive. Not the contents of your wallet. You're not your khakis. We are the all-singing all-dancing crap of the world.
Self-improvement is masturbation. Self-destruction is the answer.
You have to consider the possibility that God doesn't like you, he never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen. We don't need him. Our fathers were our models for God. If our father's bailed, what does that say about God?
You have to know that someday, you are going to die. Until you know that, you are useless. It's only after we lost everything that we are free to do anything.
The people you're after are the people you depend on. We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your phones, we drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep. Do not mess with us.
We've all been raised by television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars -- but we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed-off. ~~~Fight Club

Idea #3

Funny things that have been said by/to me recently.
1. Say loopy! It's fun! Give it lots of tongue action.
2. He's a boob. You need a masectomy.

Idea #4

Another conversation between me and my blog:

Blog. I have something I need to tell you.

Is it about my shoes?

Um no. Nice though.

Wanna interface?

Not that nice. Um...blog?

Yes?

I've been...I've been....I've been cheating on you.

*gasp*

I'm sorry but...

It's his shoes isn't it? They're nicer than mine. Who is he that dare defile my Lenni? Who tries to get into her shoes?

It's not his shoes! It's my journal. He's just so much more secretive. I feel I can tell him anything. I...I love him!

I don't know how we can go on....

You could give me those cute pumps I guess.

Idea #5

Don't post for today.

I HATE EXTREMISTS WITH A PASSION THAT DEFIES REASON!

ha. that was sposed to be ironical.

Liberal rant:
I was actually in an anti-liberal mood this morning. How are Democrats supposed to get anything done if all we do is try to thwart the Reuplicans? Why aren't there ever two sides to every story? What's with the Democrat-Republican double standard? If a Democrat does something it must be for the good of the common man, to uphold the values of the Constitution. If a Republican does the same thing, then it's just another way of perpetrating their evil plan, pulling the wool over the eyes of the ignored and rightless downtrodden. What ever happened to moderates? Do they exist anymore?

In college, we were once surveyed about our ideological leanings. We had to classify ourselves as conservative, moderate, or liberal. Out of the thirty people in my PoliSci class, I was the only self-defined liberal. Most everyone else was a moderate. "Moderate." Those kids were the cutest little liberal fuzzbunnies I ever saw.

I am a Democrat. I am loosely affiliated with MoveOn.org. I sign petitions, protest, and watch Michael Moore. But I might have to stop admitting to that if I don't want to be dismissed as a loony liberal.

I heart moderates!
Or even just level-headed people who are willing to investigate all sides of the issue and every once in a while vote against party lines. Why can't they take over the world. Oh right. no platform.

Conservative rant:
Today I came back from lunch and was met with some very unfriendly protestors. I happen to work in the same building as a Planned Parenthood. As such, I was lambasted as a "baby-killer." In general, my work consists of editing scientific texts, no baby killing there. The protesters went to far as to inform my African-American companion that mostly Black and Hispanic babies are killed. As if there's some sort of racial profiling inherent in abortion. As if that fact would incense my friend to take action.

Do they think that yelling and insulting me will make me feel partial to their cause? Threatening the apocalypse and telling me I'm a bad person doesn't make me very sympathetic.

I'm Catholic. I'm pro-life. But I might not want to admit that either. A liberal might think I'm a crazy Conservative.


and yes i know that ironical is not a a word.

Hail to the chief

Bush takes a potty break. He's the executive in chief, the leader of the free world, the commander of our armed forces and he needs to ask permission? And may need?

I would have posted the picture directly but I don't want Reuters to come and lay the smack down.

Does this mean I have to shave my legs?

Hello blog.

Hello Lenni.

How are you?

Top notch. And you?

Um. good. Well...

Nice shoes. Wanna interface?

Lenni's of the world unite!

Inspired by yesterday's blog post, I decided to Google "Lenni." Allow me to inform you of all the Lenni-wonder that is going on around us every day.

Lenni is usually a female name unless you live in Finland. It also seems to be associated with Judaism... unless of course you live in Finland. Maybe Lenni Brenner's parents were confused. But then again Lenni himself seems confused. He's written several books on how Zionists somehow colluded with Nazi Germany. I haven't read any of those books so I couldn't tell you.

East Coast peeps, and No-Coast peeps (Oklahoma, I'm talking about you) have probably heard of the Lenni-Lenape Indians. I always thought they lived in NJ, PA, and NY but I have recently learned that they were relocated to OK and TX. The Lenni Lenape were also referred to as the Delaware Indians. I think I read somewhere that the Mohicans (a la Last of the Mohicans) were also Lenape. Color me confused. Anyway vestiges remain on the East Coast in the form of Lenni, Pensylvania and the Lenni Lenape Councils of both the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts

Mmmm...I just had a completely Lenni-unrelated craving for stuffed shells.

Just to make sure that you don't think that all Lenni's are sweet and innocent, I'd like to introduce you to some bad-ass Lenni's. Please welcome Lenni the bad-ass beluga and Lenni the computer virus. Check them out if you dare. Oh and remember Ghostwriter? Lenni Frazier was pretty bad-ass on that show too. Sigh. I miss that show. Tell PBS to bring it back!

Some Lenni's are musicians... Lenni Jabour and the Third Floor (apparently a Tori Amos-like, pop lounge singer sound but I couldn't listen as it required much downloading), Lenni Lakinpoikanen a four year old rapper (?) and Lenni Kalle-taipale. Both Finns!

There are Lenni artists, Lenni lawyers and even Lenni soft core Italian lesbian porn And don't forget about the Lego Enthusiast News Network Initiative!

The world is full.

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My boss just came in to say it seemed quieter than usual in my office and that she felt she had something to do but she couldn't figure out what. I didn't tell her that I felt the same.

Angelina Jolie

The title is merely a feeble attempt at name dropping to increase traffic to my site. Otherwise, I have no plans for this particular entry.

So readers, should I take Spanish or French? Or perhaps some other exotic language? I need input. For background, I'm pretty good at accents, not so good at hacking, spitting, and rolling r's and I took Spanish in grade school, high school, and college.

Wow. I really can't think of anything else. Oh! I do have a crush on my UPS guy. My office-mate is ever so considerate to let me sign for the packages when he comes. Electronic signature tablets make my knees weak.

I also think that WMATA should have an error message that says, "You have no more money on your SmartTrip card, you boob. Don't even try to see how much negative value you can accrue. We will hunt you down and break your knee caps and take all the quarters you were saving for laundry." Instead they have, "Touch SmartTrip again." and "See Station Manager."
By the way: When you take your SmartTrip card to the Station Manager he will break your kneecaps for wasting his time. You get to keep your laundry money though.

I have decided that blogging is vastly superior to LiveJournaling. Therefore bloggers are also vastly superior.

I have a new roommate. I'll try to like her even though she's orange. I wonder if she sleeps in her makeup. She is really nice though so I must make an effort to return the niceness even though she's way more high maintenance than myself. I know! I'll buy her the correct foundation color! No Len, that was mean.

Have Pitt you Kevin Spacey noticed Harry Potter the sly Everything is Illuminated (good book) way I've NASA been Penn State sneaking in proper Sharpie trademarked Cheerios nouns?

This isn't quite as shameless but I've been listening to Minnesota Public Radio, the Current, all day long. How I missed it.

Birthday rant

This is my very first rant (some of them have been stewing for a while):

To the person who stole my cd player: You suck. And on my birthday no less! I suppose I am partially to blame for leaving such a succulent-looking $10 discman on the front seat of my car. I know I'm to blame for leaving the door unlocked. But thanks for being thorough and also stealing the adaptor and charger (oh! man! and my awesome rechargeable batteries. oh now I'm really sad) and the coins in my ash tray. That last move was really classy. I hope you enjoy the variety of Canadian change. And thanks for locking the door after you.

To my housemate: You suck. Thanks for locking me out of my house for 13 hours....while you were inside! This was especially cool because I had just returned from a week-long business trip to Canada and was tired, hot, and cranky. I find it interesting that you didn't hear me pounding on the door for two hours or yelling at you or even notice the soccer ball bouncing off your window. Especially since you nearly fell down the stairs in your rush to heed the Chinese delivery-dude's feeble tap the very next day. Remarkable hearing recovery. And you wonder why I'm still a bit angry? (I know this is a delayed rant but I'm still feeling residual anger)

To the cops: (You always have to damn the man.) I don't blame you in the slightest for the cd player. However, I'm a little worried about your priorities. My block isn't a venue for seeing how fast your squad car can go from 0 to 60. There are kids around! OK, not at 2AM but you should have at least checked out why I was throwing a soccer ball at someone's window...and yelling and pounding. I could be a shady character.

To my other housemate: You don't really suck but sometimes you're a bit stupid. Thanks for making fun of me for driving to work. Especially since you drive three blocks to catch the metro. Who's the wasteful one? And ecologist does NOT equal crazy bunny-hugging liberal environmentalist...although I may be one.

To everyone who thinks that if you do me a favor then I owe you one: I owe you nothing. Get over it. Maybe I'll help you out later or buy you a beer or something but it is NOT required. This also goes out to those who won't ask me for a favor because they think that then they'll owe me one. I'm saddened that people think this way.

To rest areas that have defective tampon machines: for chrissake! I won't give details but it really would have helped if y'all had working machines that didn't eat my last quarters leaving me soggy and angry. Pennsylvania this means you.

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I saw the mower fairies yesterday. They were not Hispanic but Black. You get the point anyway.

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The other day I saw an unattended large paper bag in the Tenleytown metro. I did not alert anyone. Selfish and horrible, I didn't want to have them close the metro station because then my commute would not happen. I saw other people noticed it too but they also didn't alert anyone. We would have felt horrible if it exploded.

Losing steam....

The lawn mower fairy

The masses have been clamoring for an update! And boy do I have plenty of news!

I have poison ivy between my toes! Hoo-ray!
I just bought new curtains but don't have a drill to install the curtain rod! Joy!
I peed outside in a new state! DC!
My sister's dog still hates me! Can't blame her!
I STILL have corn stuck between my teeth! Arg!
The lawn mower fairy came to visit! Yippee skippee!

Wait. The lawn mower fairy? What is that? The other morning as I was moseying to the metro station (work and all) I noticed that all the lawns in my neighborhood were neatly trimmed. "How lovely!" I thought as my mind filled with gleeful thoughts of quaint little neighborhoods with happy children skipping about. Then my thoughts were darkened by a deep suspicion. I have never seen anyone mow their lawn in my neighborhood. Ever. I, for one, don't even own a lawn mower. Was this some dark evil force at work? A demon nefariously robbing our humble block of its organic matter, perhaps stockpiling it for some creative bio-weapon? Nope! It's the lawn mower fairy! This delicate pink winged creature can be seen frolicking through residential areas eradicating unsightly grass growth. It is often accompanied by fairy work horses which look astonishingly like John Deere ride-on mowers.
Note: In all honesty, I'm exaggerating a bit. I imagine that lawn fairies look surprisingly like Latinos in matching t-shirts and jeans. But I've never seen them. They do their work in the quiet of the day.

As I think about this, I realize that the average reader was probably not quite as struck by the lawn mower fairies as they were by perhaps peeing in a new state or the dog that hates me. Well, long-story-short I was locked out of my house for 12 hours and was so angry, hot, tired, and hydrated that I wasn't thinking straight and peed in my back yard. Take that lawn fairy!

Regarding doggie hatred, I'm the current dog-sitter so I'm equated with parent-less weeks and poor dog-walking skills. In this current reincarnation of dog-sitting, I was asked to walk the dog as my sister and her husband went for a training run. (come see them in Virginia Beach at the Rock and Roll Half Marathon!) So the poor dog saw her parents run away and then was stuck walking five miles in the blazing sun with someone who walks just a bit too slow to keep up with a dog. Hey! I wasn't having fun either!

This blog is certainly not life changing.

Boys Suck

Well they do! But that's not the topic of today's post.

Today I was slacking off and reading Able and Baker where I learned that the Sun will run out of its hydrogen supply in about 5 billion years. It will then expand and engulf all of the inner planets. So why are we worried about global warming etc.? All that work when we're just gonna get sucked into the sun anyway? Pshaw....seems silly and wasteful to me.

Could our favorite little blogger's pessimism be caused by the title of her blog? Or is she just merely cranky because the air conditioning in her office broke and despite eating two ice creams she is still all sweaty and gross and now needs to brush her teeth? You decide.

My air conditioner should be taken out and shot.

There is nothing I loathe more than an overzealous air conditioner. Actually there probably are a few things but I'm so cold that my brain is diverting much of its energy to keeping my extremeties alive. I have eaten all warm foods and even made a cup of tea so hot that it steams up my eye glasses. That, by the way, makes it hard to work. I have gone so far as to contemplate stealing my boss' baked potato and keeping it safe in my pants. "Why, that bulge in your pants certainly makes you a productive worker. Where has my potato gone?"

Speaking of work, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. Not necessarily the type of overwhelmed that comes from being stressed and overworked; it's more like the "i-feel-stupid" overwhelmed. "Greater canopy leaf area and height may redistribute nutrients to tree islands, primarily through evapotranspirational pumping of groundwater and higher rates of dry deposition, and this nutrient subsidy is believed to be essential for tree island maintenance and expansion." Huh?

I also have no idea what my coworkers are talking about half the time. I feel that I am perpetually being obtuse. "Obtuse" is my new favorite word....besides "hoo-ray."

Oh! the dog just ran into my door! Now I'm sure that I have litle rat-terrier bits all over my office.

Well, tonight I think I'll curl up into a little ball. If you have a comfy down or fleece blanket, or the new Harry Potter, or a Phantom Planet cd, or if you look like Jake Gylenhaal (all 4 would be ideal) then feel free to join me.

I'm not wearing any underwear.

I'm not. This isn't really attempt to be sexy. It is more a reflection of how I really need to move into a permanent house and do some laundry.

This morning I lost my wallet (and my teddy bear Mike). Apparently I am irrepressibly calm in such situations. I'm not sure irrepresibly is the right adverb in this situation because calmness is not a state that needs to be repressed. Anyway, my non-freaking-out was exasperating to others.

I found my wallet (40 minutes later; it was in the door of my car) and in a quick review of its contents was struck by the diversity (and large quantity) of credit card receipts.

• 6.29 - Victoria's Secret - Roseville, MN - $44.98
• 7.05 - B Dale Texaco - Roseville, MN - $120.22
• 7.08 - Green Lake Amoco - Green Lake, WI - $27.41
• 7.08 - Mike's Payless Auto Repair - Princeton, WI - $67.50
• 7.11 - Eckerd Pharmacy - Pitsburgh, PA - $8.55
• 7.16 - H&M - North Bethesda, MD - $35.64
• 7.17 - Metrorail - Washington, DC - $20.00
• 7.20 - HanAnReum Groceries - Wheaton, MD - $24.55
• 7.21 - Giant - Silver Spring, MD - $19.58

Missing are two receipts for rather expensive automotive repairs. (Fon du Lac, WI for approx $100 and North Bethesda, MD for approx. $750) Would anyone like to buy a car?

I apologize if this posting has wandered into the realm of oversharing.

Diversions of today include:
www.dcist.com
http://whyihatedc.blogspot.com
www.collegehumor.com

I'm famous!

Although I have already had more than my fifteen minutes of fame (mostly local news programs dutifully recorded by my loving parents) I have been yet again immortalized. . . www.livejournal.com/~megwyne At this worthy and wonderful site (slightly less-so than my own I'm afraid) my witty repartee has been recorded for all to see.

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At my last internship we had to circulate five factoids about ourselves that were not included on our resume. I have the urge to share with you. These are however not the original one submitted to my coworkers

1. I remembered to apply deodorant this morning but I'm afraid I neglected to brush my teeth. This is strange considering my obsession with good dental health.

2. I have a crush on an almost complete stranger. http://peisersoze.easyjournal.com Please don't tell him.

3. Someone once asked me what I was passionate about. I replied, "comfortable shoes." I'm not sure where to go with that.

4. I am rather afraid that I will be implicated in some sort of fraud. At the very least, my income taxes will be complicated.

5. My boss just used the phrase, "Get your feet under the table." I can only assume that this a British colloquialism. However, only one of my feets is currently under the table. The other is under my ass.

I have to get back to work . . apparently that's what we do here

Not so funny this one

If anyone cares, I have had some feedback on my blog:

• "Some of the best literature I've encountered in years."
• " I like your style of writing. I think you got some talent. Are you hell bent on publishing or do you have journalistic ambitions?"

One of those comments was from someone I'm not related to.

I apologize for not writing more often. However, I now have a job that I like enough to not slack off. However, however, that isn't stopping this post.

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Today I was downtown (DC) and I encountered a man who wasn't wearing shoes. He seemed relatively clean: khakis, t-shirt, button down, hiking socks. His dental health was lacking and he was unshaven and sucking his cigarette to the nub . . . but still clean. Anyway, this man asked me where he could buy size 13 shoes. As I have enough trouble finding my own size I couldn't answer. It also didn't help that we were in the business district and I don't really know where anything is.

This man (I'd name him but I think that might trivialize him) told me that he had heard about a job but that he couldn't check it out without shoes. Someone had tricked him and stolen his shoes earlier in the day. He asked a few times where he could find shoes and I directed him vaguely uptown. He also asked if I could buy shoes for him, to which I responded in the negative.

I walked away but I was rather upset, almost to the point of tears. What was this man's story? What is my responsibility towards him? How could I have helped?

DC gets me down like that sometimes. It is a rare day that you are not confronted by the poverty or homelessness of another human being . . . in our Nation's capitol no less. But I kind of appreciate being faced with it. It is much harder to ignore the issues when you don't see them. So keep my shoeless man in mind. Remember the woman who makes a newspaper nest at the Tenleytown metro. Be nice to the guy who begs in Union Station because he was laid off and his wife left him. (He really is friendly.)

I know that you don't want to be supporting a drug or alcohol habit. I know that it's hard to carry sandwiches, blankets, and shoes on your commute. It's a deeper issue. One we need to investigate.

I have nothing to say

I really don't. I feel that I should since I only blog about once a month. But I don't want to. Ah well. I could tell you how I drove from DC to St. Paul via New York. I could even write about my new internship, the thousands of books I've been reading, or the fact that I no longer like the smell of coffee. But I won't. I also refuse to tell you about my brother's graduation, my niece and nephew (and how disgustingly cute they are), and the apple that I'm eating right now because I'm hungry.

Cheers

This one goes out to Jonathan

This past weekend I got sloppy drunk. Yup. me. It does happen. Those of you who knew me in college may say that it happens more than one might expect. But that's not all. Nope...

I drunk dialed!

*gasp*

What is so tempting about the fluid cohesion between alcohol and cell phone? I am not the booty call type of person. I don't think it's really all that fun to invite some guy over to witness my slurring, stumbling, oft-times puking self. That's not real attractive. Even if I did miraculously finagle a hook-up, I'd probably just fall asleep. Besides all that..i"m really just a sweet and innocent young woman.

I don't do the "I am so over you" calls. Or the "Please don't leave me! I still love you! You'll be sorry!" I'm not even partial to the "I have a huuuuge crush on you. teehee." or "I hate you. Drop dead." or "Guess what Mom/Dad/Boss/Pope? I'm drunk off my ass right now!"

So why call? Why do I endure the day-after embarrasment of "Hey. you called me last night." or "Hey. Thanks for the funny yet long, rambling, and totally uncalled for message. "

For some people it's tradition. (Ed-o!) For other's it's merely because I was left alone long enough to get bored or lonely. I mean really, some wing-women take un-nceccessarily long in the bathroom. And the walk home? Forget it! Even while chasing a Best Buy cart through a residential neighborhood, I can still need to talk to someone.

For others (this last one included) I really couldn't tell you. I was drunk! At least according to my source it was amusing, "75% about the 40 Japanese people in your living room; 20% gibberish and something about shopping; 5% scandalous proposition."

To all those I have called...and to those I may call in the future......

"Dude! I am sooooo drunk right now. Hiiiii!"

My Irrational Fear of Today

This isn't like today's irrational fear. As in, yesterday I was irrationally afraid of toaster ovens and today I'm irrationally afraid of binder clips. I am a little afraid of binder clips but that's another story. No, I am afraid of today.

It is April Fool's Day. "Happy April Fools Day!" I should exclaim happily as I tp the office. But no, instead I think I will cower in fear under my desk. Please don't play any pranks on me. I loathe pranks on me. I don't even particularly like pranking other people...mostly because I fear retribution.

Why, you may ask? Perhaps it's because I'm a native New Yorker, natively distrustful of everyone and everything. Perhaps it's because I'm somewhat insecure and I feel that your good natured April-Fooling is mocking me. Maybe it's because I'm well aware that I can embarrass myself perfectly capably. Just wait long enough and I bet you that sometime today I'll have toilet paper on my shoe, ink on my face, and spinach between my teeth as a I fall down the stairs insulting someone who's standing right behind me.

But that's just me. The rest of y'all enjoy your tom-foolery.

And the blogging begins

Greetings and Salutations,

In an effort to stay somewhat tied to the greater technological world I have decided to blog. I wonder when that will be added to the dictionary.

Is it cool, I wonder, to say, "Hey there! check out my blog." Is it a status symbol? A mark of genius that I am so inclined to share my thoughts with the world? A selfish notion that others might actually want to read those thoughts?

Or am I just another geek? I'm pretty sure I can't pick up a guy with my beautiful blog. How my blog sparkles in the light. The shining personality and kick-ass...well...ass of my blog.

I had a professor once who said that I overused incomplete sentences and that they should be labled in the margin. (She also mentioned idosyncratic comma usage and, more importantly, an impish sense of humor) So I leave you with this...

FRAG!

That wasn't a really good ending, was it?