Ear Candy: Spank Rock

Dirty, sexual, electronic, bumpin'.....

I can't NOT dance when I hear this.

Featuring: Spank Rock
Song: Backyard Betty
Album: Yoyoyoyoyoyo

Boo's Top Ten: Heart Loves

I might as well ride this wave of good cheer while it lasts. (I'm notorious for extreme passion in whatever emotion I'm currently experiencing. You might have noticed. But probably not.)

So, here is my current Top Ten: Heart Loves

10. A warm sunny spot on the soft grass that is just begging for a thick blanket, a book, and a cold margarita.

9. On that note: cold margaritas with fresh lime juice and Patron. No sour mix, please!!

8. Days when you look good, feel good, and all the world knows it.

7. People who are polite in traffic. Thank you!

6. Bums that don't ask me for money, a kiss, or demand anything from me in general. Copper John, in Atlanta: I love you!!! And thank you for my amazing bracelet, the excellent conversation, and your infective energy.

5. Food service industry workers who are pleasant and thoughtful. (The exact opposite: people who think they are too good for their jobs, and basically make everyone else suffer for it. Boooooo!!!!--and not in the good way that is my name.)

4. People who dance like no one is watching. I love you ALL! Even if you can't dance. Maybe especially if you can't dance. You rock.

3. People who are open and aren't afraid to show it. Human emotion is beautiful, terrifying, and completely awesome. (And that is "awesome" used in the dictionarial sense, not the dude-sense.)

2. Moments of good surprise. (Like a smile from the co-worker that is a notorious grump, or a laugh from the groaner, etc. I live for dichotomy.)

and drum roll for the Number One Heart Love of March 2008 is.....

1. People who live their lives honestly and full of passion. My word for the month is passion. Yay for PASSION.

Boo Rooz Recap

I was kidding about the butt love comment. Kinda.

(Does it count when you give yourself butt love?)

So the birthday was fantastic. I have learned a very valuable lesson: I am my most awesome self when I depend only on myself for happiness. It's like the universe acknowledges this choice, and by virtue of that choice, encourages the rest of the world to treat you like a queen.

I took off work last Friday and Monday, giving myself a desperately needed four day weekend. You see, in my world, birthday celebrations should last as least a week. So, I being very rational and not at all self-involved, decided a four day weekend would be just right.

I gave myself an at-home spa day on Friday. I watched a great movie about a wonderfully realistic love story. I smoked some pot. I went to our local organic market and -- to the detriment of my wallet -- bought all of my favorite foods and drinks. Cultured salsa, a lovely syrah, kombucha teas, spinach artichoke dip with honey dijon baked chips, Swedish pot de cremes, champagne, cocoa-dusted almonds, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, pistachio granola...

Good stuff.

My hubs spoiled me rotten all weekend. By spending basically every second with me. It seems so rare lately that we are able to get in that quality time together, and that's probably a huge reason to the lack of sex life. But one of my awesome birthday presents is sex every day, anytime, anywhere. (Honestly, my hubs could not have given me a more thoughtful and selfless gift. I'm a maniac.) And, that sweet sweet man, bought my favorite sushi for our dinner, hung with me and the girls, went to the gardening store and played in the garden with me all weekend. God, it was bliss!!! He even got our family members together and they all gave me money to start accruing my electronic setup (PA, mics, keyboard, guitar, amps -- the works)!!!! Yes, I'm a very lucky and happy woman. Very.

And totally satisfied. Until tonight. Although really, I'm more of an early afternoon delight kind of girl.

AND!! Thank you everyone for your lovely birthday wishes. It is so nice to log on to this unpersonal machine and find personality, caring, and thoughtfulness. Thank you, all.

Birth Control Tip #27: Never Wash Your Vagina

Ahem. Just so everyone knows, I will be doing a post-birthday update, complete with sexy details from my passionate weekend of butt love, but before we get there, this is the first video that I found when I did a 'birth control' search on YouTube.

And it is pretty fucking hilarious.




How you like THEM blog title apples, Chez?

A Year in Review: Boo Rooz*

There are a few things you should probably know about me for all this to make a bit more sense. That, or I just want to ramble about myself, so yeah.

1) I am an Aries. In fact, I was born on the first day of Aries. Do you know what Aries is? Fire sign, impetuous, self-involved, and all-around cool. But I didn't get too much of that last one.

2) I am the Year of the Monkey. Monkeys are intelligent, capable, and capable of incredible manipulation. And I got that last one. Oh yeah. But just as Superman is blessed with seeing through shit, I choose to use it only when it is necessary; not even time I want to see my hubs' underwear through his pants (which, incidentally, has happened a lot lately).

3) My birthday is tomorrow. And per my lovely friend Curious, it sometimes coincides with Nu Rooz, the Persian New Year. And I'm way to into "me" to remove myself from the equation.

Anyway, with the above factors in mind, I am writing a post today about my new year, from last birthday to this. Thus, "Boo Rooz" is born.

Last year's birthday, I have now deemed as "Great (Fucked Up) Expectations." I came to work in a wonderful mood. I looked great. I was certain I was going to get that promotion I had been gunning for--and virtually promised to me--since I started working at The Workplace. Well, long story real fucking short: the promotion was denied (not by my awesome boss, but by the higher powers that be) and it rocked me. How could that be?? I had been performing at a high level, and had been doing the job description for the better position since I started working there two years prior. They basically said "No Way" right in my face.

It was a real downer. I mean, real. I almost cried, and I NEVER cry at work. Except in the bathroom.

I go home after work, looking for people to be extra specially nice to me, and low and behold, my birthday has been forgotten. Even my Mom, who, to her credit, called me that night around 9pm, pretending she didn't forget. (Usually she calls me at the exact time I was born, 3:33pm, so I was, you know, expecting it.)

And we're not going to talk about what my husband did for my birthday. Because I might have to retroactively kill him. And I have high expectations (I know, I'm a sucker for punishment) for this year, so that can't happen.

Thus, the year of Great (Fucked Up) Expectations.

The year that followed in the wake of Boo Rooz 2007 was pretty shit, actually. And you can read about (most of) it in the archives, that start in June. But let's sum it up this way:

Work Life: Overworked and under appreciated
Home Life: Fights with every member of my family, no home, fleas, craziness
Social Life: Heavy drinking, hardships with friends
Internet Life: Better than real life (I now see how people can spend hours and hours accomplishing nothing but creating bonds with people you've never met or seen in "real" life.)

And as things currently stand, they look shitty again. My hubs and I are in dire straits (the D word has been thrown around more than once in the last six months--arg, and we haven't had sex in almost a month--double arggg), our house is nowhere near finished, my good friend moved away last weekend, and through therapy, I realized that I have been depressed for going on 2 years. (I'm the "cover it with a smile and a joke" kind of person. I'm starting to discover this isn't as healthy as I once thought...)

God, I am on a tear. I understand if you haven't read this far; I can't stand it when people bitch about stuff like this, because really, it is LIFE, and shit happens. But you caught me feeling vulnerable, hopeful, and purge-y all at once. And if you have read this far, then you might as well stick with it, because it gets better. I think. I'll let you know when we get there.

I happen to know that I live a charmed life. Yes, shitty things happen, but I was born equipped to deal with whatever comes my direction, so in that way, I feel strong. I have an amazing support system that I have slowly cultivated, and I draw on that strength when I feel weak, and in that way, I feel strong.

So, the good things about this past year. Well, I have started playing music and singing more often. And in fact, I have been writing lately, and the last two songs to come from my heart are pretty amazing. I'm already composing the orchestral support to my little piano and voice.

Another good thing: the aforementioned therapy. Me and the hubs have been going since last fall, and I have never felt more secure in knowing myself, knowing what I want, and feeling like I have the tools to create the life I seek. Empowerment, in a word.

Another good thing: good friends. Wonderful friends, actually. My friends inevitably become my family in many ways. I tell them things that I could never say otherwise, with the knowledge that they won't judge me--at least not openly. :) That is so refreshing.

Another good thing: I got that promotion this past October, so that was nice. Six months late, but better late than never, I guess.

Obviously, there are good things happening for me. I think that is directly related to my inability to give up, or slow down, or take no for an answer, or even pretend for a moment that I'm wasting what amazing gifts are out there, if I just reach out for them.

My mom, when I graduated from college, gave me a card. It simply said, "Leap, and the net shall appear." I have carried that thought with me since that day, even though I've always been the "leaping" kind. It reminds me to go with my heart, because those desires and motivations and instincts are there for a reason. I'm learning to hear myself again, to trust myself again, and to love myself again.

So this year, on my birthday, tomorrow, I'm taking the day off work.

I'm getting unwanted hair waxed at my local day spa, which I love. It makes me feel so clean.
I'm going home and pampering myself with a facial, a manicure, a pedicure, a body scrub, and any other awesome product that I might find at Target tonight.

I'm treating myself to a delicious lunch, complete with champagne and dessert.

And I'm doing it alone. Just me. No parties, no congregation (well, at least not during the day), no fanfare. Just me and my head. Me loving my body.

And then my ladies are coming over for a night of music, wine, cheese, guilty pleasure, and hopefully lots of laughing and good times.

Wish me luck.




*moniker courtesy of my birthday twin, Curious P.

Boo's Top Ten: Pet Peeves

Hi! I'm Boo. I'm a bitch. Have we met?


10. People who chew food with their mouths open. Bonus points if you are extra noisy!!!

9. People who demand my time without contributing any of their own. Like, don't complain about me not calling you, if you never fucking call me either! Dick.

8. People who CHOOSE to be oblivious in public places. Yes, I've been standing behind your grocery cart that is blocking the entire aisle while you argue with someone on your cell phone about which brand of spaghetti is better. Yes, I've made eye contact with you about three times. What? A dirty look? Oh god, strike me down for the fear in my heart. Get out of my way, you douche.

7. People who treat service industry employees as slaves. As a former waitress: fuck you.

6. Politicians. As a general rule.

5. People who allow their young female children to have anything to do with Paris Hilton. As a future retiree: fuck you.

4. And on that note: celebrities that are famous for no exceptional reason. Oh, you're the daughter of the guy that got O.J. acquitted? Well, shove a stick up your ass and call you important. Twatburger.

3. Anyone who thinks "feminist" is a bad word. As a feminist: well, you know.

2. Pro-lifers. Wanting to save a cluster of cells, but supporting capital punishment, is a bit of a fucking conundrum, isn't it, you fucks? And BOMBING clinics that provide medical care to make a political statement about death? I just can't...

And the Number One MOST ANNOYING THING IN THE WORLD!!!!

Interrupters. Hey! Interrupters of the world: fah-q.



Moral of the story: I must hate people.

Take Another Lil' Piece of My Heart

I've been doing my best, living in denial, but I must now face the music.

My good friend is leaving.

We've had our share of ups and downs, me and my buddy -- mostly ups. But the downs are where we really found our friendship. And now she is moving away, to go live with her wonderful fiance, where they will be happy and successful and lovey and together.

But they won't be here.

Remember when we first met? The fates must have brought us together, and nothing cements a bond like soldiers in the trench of warfare (cough, cough, museum, cough).

And then there were the "Unfortunate Friends." Let's hope they stay limber and stoned.

Of course, we can't EVER forget naked night. Even though a part of me kinda wants to, and another part of me wants to do it again...

As crazy as this sounds (although, coming from me I'm guessing you expect as much) the "Awkwardness of Fall 2007" is still remembered a bit fondly...with a few little laughs on my part.

I can only hope that, one day, the powerful crystals in the bedrock of this little mountain town will draw them back, and we can pick up where we left off: futher defining an ever-blossoming friendship that shows no signs of slowing.

There is much to say, and I know that I will be tearful when we finally say goodbye, but for now, know that I love you, will miss you terribly, and will never leave your internets idle, dear friend.

And I promise to keep you updated on the "town drama."

Here's hoping for your speedy return home, and the speedy return of my sex life. (Those are mutually exclusive, of course.)

Love,

A Girl Named Boo-Hoo

Homo Rejectus

I swear this will be my only American Idol post ever. I just wanted to give Chez a run for his money with his awesome blog post titles.

A Year-Old Poem

listen to this newscast
it brings the shit of the world.
take this into yourself, all the negative
all the fear.
do you feel it? that's it.
breath it in.
LIVE in it.
Here, look at these poor people
they just experienced a wordless
tragedy.
now look at your soft world
and feel guilty
do you feel that? this sin.
the sins of the world.
take this, atlas, but
steady.
wait. you can't function
with this guilt on the surface for
all to see—
here, cover it up.
wait. here's some
nice furniture, a cute pair
of chopsticks.
how about an ishit?
It has the newest, best insert
consume now, you mindless beast
forget yourself and your connection
to the entire universe.
this existance.
we will force feed you this poison,
this waste of life, and
sell you the drugs to ignore it,
you filthy dung heap
your soul is the ultimate profit
Fuck fourth quarter lines
and consumer confidence
we'd rather have your soul

2.17.07

One More Notch, er, Scar

Well, not to be outdone by the last couple of weeks of minor traumas, I have raised the bar for myself YET AGAIN!!!!

Luckily, when I hurt myself, it is usually non-life threatening, but probably some of the most painful shit you can do to yourself while remaining in non-life threatening mode.

Yesterday's little trauma?

I slammed my thumb in my car door. It locked. I had to fumble with my keys in my left hand, unsuccessfully try to unlock the door (isn't it strange how when you really need to get into your car, like it is pouring outside, or your thumb is locked in the door, you try to unlock it in the wrong direction several times until you realize, even though you might have been unlocking this specific door daily for months or even years??) and removed my thumb. In all of its blood-gushing glory. It was pretty horrendous, and I think I even heard the lady across the street scream. (Well, she definitely hollered.)

Luckily, I was just arriving at a friend's house, and I went to the front door and asked for her assistance. She, in super-nurse-in-control mode, whisks me to the bathroom, cleans me, sterilizes me, oints me, and wraps me. Boom. Done.

I have the best of friends. Thanks friend!!!!

So my nail is cracked pretty much in half, and I'm guessing that it might bother me after my finger has healed, so I was researching healing tactics on the web (of course).

This is my favorite option so far.

I Have...Lost My Words....

Blarrrrrrghghghgh.......

*drools on self*

Dear Diary

It raining today--a heavy, sopping rain that seeps into every pore. My hair curls up; my eyes squint against the tiny wet needles that speckle my glasses; moisture creeps up the back of my pants legs.

I want it to wash me clean today. I want to feel renewed and released. It's been a long two years--and I've just begun to realize how hard these two years have been. My life has turned completely upside-down these past two years. Sometimes I feel like my soul has left the building; vacated until I renovate and make this a habitable hold once more.

I want this rain to wake me, to push me up through the warming soil, to feel the still winter-cold sunlight on my body. I need a spring.

Suppression: An Act of Unintentional and Inevitable Widespread Distribution

I listened to a story on the radio yesterday concerning a Swedish bank involved in a money laundering scandal, and the subsequent publication of incriminating papers onto the internet. The reporter mentioned that once the powers-that-be forced the website to remove images of the papers, online searches for the documents skyrocketed. And you can still find the papers, just not on the website that broke the story.

The moral here is this:
If you want people to certainly hear about something, all you have to do is try and suppress it.
(I've been into morals lately. Go fig.)

Anyway, I just read this blog post, and it seems to come from that same silly little trap. When will tire of this bullshit, people? Really? I would like to know.

To those paying attention: Please go visit my favorite watchdog's site; more specifically, this post.

Toodles,

Boo