My Wish List

Do you ever get to this point in the holiday, and you're so wrapped up in getting the perfect present for everyone that you complete, unselfishly, forget to think about what YOU might like? Yeah, I rarely do that, but this year seems to be one of those blue moons. My co-worker asked me earlier this morning what I want for Christmas, and I had no answer.

Not that I am a materialistic person, either. I'm making presents for everyone this year (everyone, that is, except my husband; sorry babe!) and it is really nice not dealing with the Christmas shopping traffic frenzy.

Anyway, so now I'm thinking about what I want. If I could have ANYTHING I wanted, what would I want? I've surprised myself with what comes to mind.

I have an amazing husband.
I have a wonderful and loving family.
I have a job that I enjoy.
I have a new house on the horizon.

I have all the things in the world that I could ever want. I am the happiest I have ever been. And these are my personal truths.

Then the devil on the other shoulder says, "What do you REALLY want?"

I want a shit-ton of money, so my time can always be my own.
I want to write, shoot, and direct a movie. (Therefore, I need a really nice digital video camera, Satan, er... I mean Santa Fairy. And Final Cut Pro 6.)
I want a full photo studio lighting setup. On a suspended grid system. Wireless.
I want a new digital camera body, and a really nice lens.
I want a pimp-ass treehouse.
I want to spend a few years in Europe, then Australia.
I want to grow the best weed money can buy.
I want an electric guitar, a stack, a drum set, an upright bass, a baby grand, and some studio microphones.

So yeah, get on that Santa Fairy, because I was thinking about this, and you've really never gotten me exactly what I asked for. It was always some cheap version of the real thing, and dammit, I wanted Keds, not the look-alikes from Wal-mart.
I guess that means you owe me.

I Married a Saint.

So yesterday I hosted a little girly get-together, the Ladies Listening Lounge, basically because I want to hear some new music, but I'm too lazy to actually, you know, go seek it out, so I disguised my laziness under the guise of a girl's night with wine and cheese and little sweet potato pies and invited over the hottest girls I know and told them to bring some music. And it was great, but that has little to do with my saintly husband, since, you know, he's a he, and this was a ladies thing, but I will get to that.

Ladies Listening Lounge (maybe I should change it to Lazy Ladies Lounge; I really like the "L" thing—it makes me feel like a hip lesbian or something) was a smashing success, mainly because I heard some great new music and we managed to kill 4.5 bottles of wine in about 2.5 hours. And, as I mentioned earlier, I invited the hottest women I know, so that was good.

But the reason that my husband (I've been calling him my boyfriend lately because we have so much fun together that saying husband just sounds too stuffy; we need a new word) is a saint is because when I RUSHED through the door at 5:10, he was there, cleaning the house. AND he helped me make dinner and delicious sweet potato pie thingies, and he MOPPED THE KITCHEN FLOOR, and that my friends, is why he will now be known as The Saint.



HE MOPPED THE KITCHEN FLOOR. Willingly! And I didn't even mention it to him. AND I was going to do it before the hot ladies came over! AND DID I MENTION HE MOPPED THE KITCHEN FLOOR?! Obviously, you can sense how vile and repulsive I find this particular chore.

Then, after he helped me cook and clean, he left. The Saint is a saint. Maybe that's my new word for him, instead of husband/boyfriend. If I hadn't been exhausted and ddddrunk last night when he came home, I would have given him a "home" to "come" to, if you get my quotes.

A Quick Gripe

You know what really buggers my ass? When people use the "it's going to look so horrible when you're old" argument against getting tattoos.

Guess what dumb dumbs: we ALL look like shit when we're old. A little skin decoration isn't going to change that.

So suck it.

Ink Makes You Think

About getting more....



And it really makes me happy...

A Video Blog: Seven Reasons Why I Love...

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation:

7. The sled scene:




6. 250 strands of lights:



5. Trapped in the attic:





4. "Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Kiss my ass. Kiss his ass."





3. The shitter was full:



2. The best monologue ever written:



1. Squirrel!!

And in This Corner...

It's beginning to look a lot like campaign time, and I can only begin to imagine the piles of steaming shit that We, The People, are going to have to sift through in order to find a shred of decency and dignity in what should be the crowning tradition of our country.

It is that time again: you can almost smell the Democratic desperation and hear the rumbling Right Wing, taking one another to the mat over a single misconstrued statement, or a tiny little box on a form that may or may not have been checked, or a puff of smoke from 30 years ago. It is time to fling the clods of fear and manipulation against the ever-sullied wall of democracy, to skew truths, misinform the constituents, and create all-around feelings of helplessness and wrath.

Not only do We, The People have the opportunity to be overwhelmed at any moment with thinly-veiled propaganda and the constant overexposure of the bobble-talking-head of the moment, but this round of elections dares to unleash something far, far worse:

Celebrity Endorsements.

Isn't is bad enough that we are force-fed every single details of these peoples' privileged existences, each day of our lives? Hell, even my local news station has the lack of grace to report on Britney Spears. Britney motherfuckin' Spears. And now, when every other ad on TV is going to spout the same self-righteous, I-am-better bullshit, we have to deal with celebrities joining the crusade.

Sure, four years ago we had the typical politically active celebrity sect, but this year has shown us that was only a forward glance in a cheap crystal ball. Oprah, the Matron of Mothers, the Builder of Boarding Schools, has thrown her elephant-like clout behind Obama. (He said it better than me.) But this, my friends, I fear is only the beginning. Now, the other Behemoth of Broads, Madonna, has placed her support behind Clinton. What's next: the Osmonds for Romney? The Yanks for Giuliani? Chris Daughtry for Edwards??

Really though, I have to question Madonna's interest in American politics at all. I mean, isn't she all about being British now? Doesn't she have an affected British accent, live in a manor, and ride horses with teeny tiny saddles? More importantly, DOES SHE EVEN PAY TAXES IN THE U.S.? Someone with her earning potential could single-handed pay for Katrina relief with just a percentage of her taxed income. Personally, I think if she isn't paying taxes in this country, then she doesn't deserve to have a say in how the country votes. So FUCK OFF, Madonna.

Alright there Virgil—Treading on Thin Ice

Virgil tagged me, so I'll do it. But I'm not gonna like it.

The Rules:

1) Put your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle
2) For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3) YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT. (This is in capital letters, so it is very serious. The blog police will come and find you, and you will go to blog prison! And if you are lucky and aren't killed in blog prison, you can live bloggily ever after. But if you are killed in blog prison, then you go to blog hell. You go to blog hell and you die.)

After you’ve answered all of the questions, tag 5 other people and then let them know they’ve been tagged to do the meme themselves!




1) IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY?
Orange Moon, Erykah Badu
Commentary: You know, this is a pretty good song for me when I feel ok, so yeah, that works.

2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
J'ai Deux Amours, Dee Dee Bridgewater
Commentary: AHA!

3) WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
The Prodigal Sun, The Black Angels
Commentary: Someone that runs away, breaks your heart, and expects you to take them in with open arms when they return? Not so much.

4) HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Zap Bebes, Zap Mama
Commentary: Ex-zap-ly.

5) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Boomerang, Black Lips
Commentary: I have no idea what this really means.

6) WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Hope, Bjork
Commentary: Perhaps, but only 57% of the time.

7) WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Wrists of Kings, Isis
Commentary: Hey now, my wrists are more of an immortal, dei-ific nature.

8) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Staple It Together, Jack Johnson
Commentary: Staple my parents together? I don't feel like being metaphorical today, so no.

9) WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Brazil, Maynard Ferguson
Commentary: Indeed. Indeed I do. Brazil.

10) WHAT IS 2+2?
Alien Lover, Luscious Jackson
Commentary:

11) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Extra Ordinary Thing, Aqualung
Commentary: Aww, that is kinda sweet.

12) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Ponderosa, Tricky
Commentary: Ponderosa, my home sweet home.

13) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Beloved, Luscious Jackson
Commentary: This could go one of two ways. Choose your own adventure.

14) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Avec Le Temps, Dee Dee Bridgewater
Commentary: Wow, this is like looking into a crystal ball. And seeing a fucking glass ball.

15) WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Permit Me to Introduce You to Myself, Dee Dee Bridgewater
Commentary: Finally, one I can really get behind. I couldn't have thought of a wittier song title for that question.

16) WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
La Vie En Rose, Madeleine Peyroux
Commentary: Yes they do. I have a charmed life.

17) WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Booty, Erykah Badu
Commentary: You know, this had me wavering for a second, but now I am firmly on the "yes" side. Thank you, Erykah Badu.

18) WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
The Windmills of Your Mind, Michael Legrand and Bud Shank
Commentary: This would actually be a GREAT funeral song. Appropriate mournfulness, filled with a sense of loss, but a beautiful, flitting melody that trails along like the dead lady's fingers in the water.

19) WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Coffee, Aesop Rock feat. John Darnielle
Commentary: Sometimes, not always, but not never. Just sometimes.

20) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Sheela-Na-Gig, PJ Harvey
Commentary: I guess it is still a secret, then.

21) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own, U2
Commentary: Awwww! This one is so sweet too! :) You really CAN'T make it on your own. THANK U2!! *Big thumbs up*

I tag NO ONE! YOU HEAR ME! NO ONE!!!!!!

Moments of Beauty

The way my brother can make me laugh with just one look...

My dad, skinny in his smoking days, before he was really my dad. His mustache looking huge on his slimmer face, he smiles his open mouth, closed eyes smile and begins the only dance we ever saw from him—the shuffle feet quickly/turn in a tight circle dance—as he turned up the Doobie Brothers and sang. That day, my brother, sister and I got up and danced his dance with him...

A memory of my mom, from when I was a small child, playing hide and seek with me. I sat in the middle of the couch, drew my knees to my chest, covered my eyes and giggled as I watched her pretend to look for me from between my fingers...

Dressing in pseudo-drag with my brother, sister, and two cousins, and then parading before the family cameras, before we decided it wasn't cool to be a kid and play dress-up...

Every time my brother and I retell THE VERVE PIPE story....

Watching my sister wipe tears from her face when she laughs too hard....

The flecks of green in my husband's brown eyes that I can only see when we are close enough to kiss...

The way my uncle Brian can tell the same story hundreds of times, but it is always so funny we all end up on the floor, gripping our sides and begging him to stop...

The black tail that wags furiously when I come home, and how excited she gets when I pull her leash out of her toy box...

The feeling in my heart when I am with the people I love most in the world, sharing time and laughter...