Last night I arrived at Thomas's for our ritual Friday Night Dinner® (Just like the Gilmores, only with less judgement) and SciFi channel palooza. I walked in with a canvas bag filled with markers, stickers and index cards. I held it up and exclaimed, "I brought us something to do!" He looked a little worried.

We made Hope Notes that will be distributed to girls living in Rwanda. You can read about how hopeREVO got involved in this here and here.

If you have time to make your own Hope Notes and get them in the mail by Monday, May 5th so they can be compiled and all mailed on May 14th, that would be awesome.

Also, if you could keep Odette and her daughters in your thoughts during this very difficult time, that would be equally awesome.

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When I sit down to write lately, my writing is either full of anger or maudlin pathos. Mostly, because that's what I've been feeling for a while: pissed, worn out and melancholy.

I know one shouldn't stifle those feelings and trust me when I tell you, there ain't nothing stifled about me lately. People know I'm going through some shit. It shows. And I also know there is a relief to letting it out, even on a blog. But right now, I don't want to be that guy. (Not that that's stopped me before.)

And really... who wants to read that kind of crap any way?

So instead I've been going through an exercise today. Today is about focusing on those moments that pull me away from that cluttered, noisy room. The moments I see light from the outside, breaking in through the dirty windows.

It can be a song on my iPod so compelling that makes me stop and listen. The combination of the warm sun and cool breeze on my skin as I walk outside. A smile from a stranger. Watching my cat sleep.

Rosie O'Donnell calls it yellow. Until today, I never understood what she meant by it. But now I get it.

When I find myself in those moments, I stop and relish it. Submerse myself in it. Let it work its mojo on me.

And for that moment, I'm no longer tired. No longer angry. No longer sad.

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Today is Mike Lawson's birthday. If you haven't checked out his blog before, you should. He's very creative, smart and funny; all things that make for a good blog. And a good guy.

He also has a thing for limericks, so this one's for you Mike.

There once was a guy named Mike Lawson
who moved to the Valley of the Sun.
From his birthday cake did arise
A habit-wearing surprise
Because it's much more funny with a nun.

Happy Birthday, Mike!

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My father was a macho Marlboro man kind of guy who lived his life according to a set of absolutes about what it means to be A Man®. Pithy admonitions such as, "Never say 'I don't know.' Real men never admit they don't know how to do something." This sage wisdom usually was delivered during an all-night, whiskey-fueled rant about why my grades were so bad. He'd ask me over and over, "Why did you make a D in Geography?"

My answer was, "Perhaps it has something to do with the fact you are keeping your son up after two in the morning on a school night badgering him about his grades while you yourself dropped out of the eighth grade and need assistance reading the word Geography on my report card. You think maybe THAT has something to do with the fact I don't know that Somalia is in Africa?"

Of course, that answer would have lead straight to a beating and I had had my fill of those already thankyouverymuch. So instead I answered, "I don't know," which lead to a never-ending argument until I could no longer keep my eyes open and the next day waking up with a pool of drool on my desk at the end of Geography class.

It's easy to make light of it now. It was a lifetime ago. And it's easy to laugh at the ridiculousness my father's circular non-logic.

My favorite was, "Never say you are sorry. It's a sign of weakness." I'd ask why and he'd say that a real man should be confident and have conviction in what he's saying is right.

"But what if you are wrong? You can't be right about everything."

This was inconsequential. It didn't matter if you were actually wrong. Just never admit you are.

In many ways, my father was a precursor to Homer Simpson.

Homer: Boy, if there's one thing you should know, it's this. There's the right way, the wrong way, and the Max Power way!
Bart: Uh Dad, isn't that the wrong way?
Homer: Yeah son, but FASTER!

I knew this was complete bullshit. Apologizing isn't a sign of weakness. Not admitting you are wrong about anything is just pure arrogance, which I suppose was part of my father's definition about being a "real man."

Luckily, I've never had a problem saying I'm sorry for something. However, sometimes I'm not always aware that I am wrong about something, which, according to his backwards ass principles, would probably make my father proud.

So when someone takes the time to say, "Hey. You are being a dickhead and are hurting my feelings," it makes me pause because I'm not always aware of when I'm being an dickhead. (Although I am KEENLY aware when I'm being an asshole. I have that down to a science.)

It's pretty humbling to be called out on your shit. For someone to do that, it takes great courage.

Admitting you are wrong takes courage too. Even if it's just two simple words.

I'm sorry.

That's what real men do.

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If I were a woman, I would want to be either a bitch, who is — let's face it — smarter than you and I combined. And fierce! A bitch is way fierce. And influential too. Ricker pointed out the other day that her catch-phrases have worked their way into my everyday vernacular when I described myself as not dumb, just Intellectually Lazy™.

Blink.

My other choice would be this woman. Krystyn has such a sense of personal style apparent in everything she does. I admire her mad skills as a web designer. When I look at the sites and templates Krystyn builds, I am filled with a mixture of inspiration, slight envy and motivation to learn more. She makes me want to be a better web designer. Judging by her mastery of CSS, I'm guessing she too is smarter than you and I combined as well.

Plus, take a look at this. Isn't she adorable?

Last month, she made notes of kindness to leave for people to find. As a result, something wonderful has happened. People every where are making their own notes to post in public places around their cities.

I love this idea! A simple act of kindness can potentially affect some kind of change in the person who happens upon it.

I made a stack tonight to post. I encourage you to do the same. Join the Hope Revolution.

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The other day when I looked up my old Mondo Beyondo list, do you know what I forgot to do? READ what my list was back then.

D'oh!

So last night, I read it to Thomas and I was pretty amazed to discover that I had accomplished in some way, most of the things I wrote. Okay, so I didn't ever host sock puppet kareoke night and let's face it, I'm NEVER going to become one of those crazy active people who are always doing things like hiking, yoga and stuff. But that, of course, is not the point of Mondo Beyondo. You are supposed to think BIG. Think impossible and my favorite, think dangerously. What scares you? Frightens you? Creeps into your comfort zone? What truly challenges you?

All that said, I did accomplish some of my list. I did do some freelance work here and there and in my own way, I've created a family of friends I rely on.

But here's the best one. Number four. I am THIS close to being debt free! THIS CLOSE. Last year, I watched several balances fall to zero. After all this time, it's such an amazing feeling to finally see the debt free light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, last Friday I decided to just up and pay off my final student loan. Now they owe me twelve cents! (Pay up Sallie Mae!)

After reading my old list, I was even more excited to make a new Mondo Beyondo. So here goes:

• I will go to California and see the other ocean. (Can you believe I've lived in Arizona for ten years and STILL haven't been to California?)

• I will make my apartment a home.

• I will ride my bike, explore my neighborhood and meet who's in my neighborhood.

• I will talk to strangers.

• I will create things that are not made of pixels.

• I will really listen when others speak.

• I will reach out to people I admire.

• I will invite someone dangerous to tea.

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Really? Has it really been since 2004 that I last did a Mondo Beyondo? Oy. Where does the time go?

Mondo Beyondo is all about celebrating what's to come and what CAN be.

One of my favorite things Alden has ever said is:

"I don't make resolutions because a resolution to me is like an ending, and right now, I'm all about beginnings."

Smart dude, that Alden. The new year is a new start. It's all fresh with new car smell. What we should truly resolve is what the previous year was, whether it was awesome, sucked or just kinda meh.

And that's what part one is all about: Completing.

1. What do you want to acknowledge yourself for in regard to 2007?

Well, first, I celebrate losing thirty pounds. Go me.

In 2007 I really defined myself professionally for the first time. Although I've been working on websites for about eight years and as a web designer since 2006, I would never call myself a web designer because I didn't feel I earned or even deserved that title. After all, I've never been formally trained as a web designer or have a degree in design. That's always made me feel less than. But this past year, I decided that is a just bunch of coddleswap because goddamnit I AM a freakin' web designer. And a pretty good one too.

I made the choice to change my living situation. That may seem like a silly thing for a mid-to-late thirties adult to say, but think about it: Julie and I lived together for nine years. I know plenty of marriages and relationships that haven't lasted half that. We lived together for so long because we were comfortable doing so. We formed our own little family. Breaking that up was a scary thing to do, but ultimately, it was for the best for both of us.

2. What is there to grieve about 2007?

I forgive myself gaining back seven of those lost pounds. I forgive myself for watching too much television (Seriously. Did I really need to watch EVERY episode of Burn Notice?) and not reading more books. I forgive myself for hibernating all summer and neglecting people. I forgive myself for letting my heart become a tangled mess in places I knew better to let it go. I forgive myself for not sharing what's really going on with those who love me. I forgive myself for not blogging about it.

I grieve the loss of a very dear friendship.

What else do you need to say about the year to declare it complete?

Oh 2007, you brought with you many changes. But by the end's year, it was pretty clear where it was all heading. They say, "Everything happens for a reason," and you whispered that in my ear from beginning to end. Turns out, you weren't so bad after all. Thanks. I declare you complete!

2008 is my year of rejuvenation.

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At Daniel's persistent nagging request, I made a banner to show some love to our favorite philologist.

You can see the fruits of my labor of love in the footer below.

If you want to express your adoration for all things Marina, feel free to save as and host the image on your own server for your site.

And remember, every time you hot link from someone else's server, God kills a kitten after she's made the kitten watch 2 Girls 1 Cup a few hundred times.

(If you need one that works on a black background, like Daniel's, let me know. I have one that works for that too.)

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Thomas, who is waist deep in books and papers while studying for his PhD comprehensive exams, asks:

How would you characterise the current treatment of ambiguity in identity studies? What are the communicative implications for this treatment?

I have no idea, but maybe you can tell me what the communicative implications of this YouTube video are.

The lovely Geggie wants to know...

How did Elliott find you?

I found Elliott at work over thirteen years ago. I worked in a garden center and when I moved a pallet of lawn mowers, there was Elliott, his mama and his two siblings. I held Elliott in the palm of my hand and that was that. He had me at "meow."

Alden asks:

Sink, swim or float?

I'd like to say swim, but I know how lazy I am so float seems more realistic.

Of course, Daniel can't just ask ONE question but asks me a zillion ones. He's a demanding beyotch like that. *air kisses*

I think I'll just answer the main one.

I wanna know, or have the archive link to, your full 'coming out' chronicles.

Well, I blogged a bit about this last year on National Coming Out Day. What I can add to that is I was a bit of a late bloomer with coming out. I didn't come out until after college. The first person I came out to was myself really. I was sitting in a chair, alone in a room and I just spoke the words out loud, "I'm gay." Months later I came out to a friend of mine. She responded, "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

Kyle wants to know...

will you be my slave?

Kyle. I want to make sure you pay attention and understand my answer. Are you ready?

No.

Next, he asks:

wouldn't you agree that parker is the hottest thing running when it comes to felines?

Looking through your blog, I only find ONE picture of Parker. And she's hiding behind a curtain. This suggests to me she's not that hot.

Elliott on the other hand, is smokin'.

Thanks to everyone for your questions, your comments and for reading my posts all month during this NaBloPoMo madness. It was fun.

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Lately, I've been reconnecting a with lot of old friends via MySpace, Facebook and LinkedIn. Friends from college, past co-workers and old blog buds. It's been kind of nice getting back in touch with them. It's funny how we just sometimes lose touch with people. Our lives get busy. We forget to return a phone call. Rescheduling plans never happens. Time just slips by.

Okay, the benadryl is kicking in now. Time to wrap this up.

So I ask you this question, who if anyone would you like to reconnect with?

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Mighty Girl's open letter to a persistent can of baby corn in her pantry, reminded me of my own pantry nemesis.

Behold.

Not just any can of hearts of palm, but a can of organic hearts of palm. Stick THAT in your wok and saute it.

Seriously, what was I thinking? I don't even know what hearts of palm are! Or what you do with them. I think the only reason they caught my eye is because I heard Sookie mention them on Gilmore Girls once. That's not a good enough reason to put them in a grocery cart.

What's worse is this is my SECOND can of hearts of palm. The first one sat in my cabinet for a year until I pulled it out to put it to use. As a door stop. I worked well keeping the door open, but eventually I tossed it.

And then a few months later, here it is again. I'll fess up. I bought it. But I'm claiming temporary insanity.

I'm open for suggestions. Any one know what to do with these? Recipes. Science experiments? Craft projects?

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I ran across a notebook I used years ago. I bought it on clearance after Halloween at Old Navy. It has glow-in-the-dark witches on it.

I used it for general note taking. There are some notes from my job two companies ago. A VERY specific grocery list; I didn't just list "potatoes" but "Alexia Natural Potatoes." Some guy's phone number. A few random doodles.

And then I found a page of quotes which puzzle me. I'm not a quote person. I don't actively seek out quotes or use them a lot, unless I'm quoting YouTube vidoes. ("LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!") I can't remember where or why I wrote these down. Judging by them, I must have been in a healing phase.

"The only journey is the one within."
-- Rainer Maria Rilke

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does."
-- William James

"Nothing can bring you peace but yourself."
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wow. Do you feel reaffirmed? I know I do.

It's weird seeing this page, because it's SO unlike me. I wonder what spirit stole my hand and forced me to write these. But then I turn the page and find one more quote and realize otherworldly spirits were not at play. It really was me who wrote these down.

"Even if the voices aren't real, they have some pretty good ideas."
-- Unknown

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Meet Craig. He's one hawt mofo.

He's destined to be the next internet sensation.

How do I know? Because Chris said so.

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You can make your own! Watch the video here.

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It's time for another vote! I ordered a couple more t-shirts from Threadless.

Vote for your favorite and I'll post a picture of me wearing the winner.

• Lil' Soap
• You've Got Some 'Splaining To Do!

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I never got around to mailing cards so...here it is! All paperless and environmentally friendly.

Frankly, I'm ready for the holidays to be over with. They just aren't my cup of tea. Never really have been. Bring on 2007 already.

But I do enjoy the the songs of the season.

And now, I present you, what is possibly my most favoritest clip of all. So much my most favoritest, that it Blows. My. Mind. in it's awesomeness.

Isn't that just fucking awesome!?

Korina thought so too, so she made me a Grace Jones hat out of an Office Depot file folder. Here she is modeling her latest fashionable creation.

Have a happy and safe holiday!

See you in 2007!

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After I saw Homer's new t-shirts from Threadless, I decided to take advantage of their $10 sale and pick up some for myself.

And to be a total copy cat, I too will put a vote to the people for your favorite.

• Cookie Loves Milk - After seeing Homer's, I wanted one for myself.


• What Would MacGyver Do? - Much like Selma and Patty, I had the biggest crush on MacGyver when I was a kid.


• Ctrl + Z - I've purchased this one before, after my car accident years ago.


• So He Killed Your Dad - "Did I just eat a feather? Ew."

Be sure to vote for your favorite t-shirt and I'll post a photo of me wearing the winner.

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I'm having a little too much fun putting friend's names and bloggers in The Advertising Slogan Generator.

Silly Rabbit, Brian is for Kids.

Hands That Do Dishes Can Be Soft As Your Adam.

I'd Walk a Mile for a Homer.

The Lighter Way To Enjoy Deek.

Make It A Matt Night.

Watch Out, There's a Kacy About.

Semper Dyanna.

Don't Forget The Greg, Mum.

Marc: The Other White Meat.

Race for the Thomas.

Should Taste As Good As Korina.

Get Kristin or Get Out.

It's Not All Kandice, Kandice, Kandice, you know.

We're Serious About Mary.

Naughty, but The Maddi.

I'm Only Here For The Secret Simon.

If You've Got the Time, We've Got the Mark.

Make Room for the Tuna Girl.

8 out of 10 Owners who Expressed a Preference said Their Cats Preferred Patrick.

A Tough Mzouiser to Follow.

Grab Life by the Aaron.

Every Kiss Begins With Knotty Boy.

Any Time, Any Place, Jimbo.

Taste the Dogpoet.

Snap! Crackle! CB!

We Do Kyle Right.

Splash Josh And Josh All Over.

Faggoty-Ass Faggot, and on, and on...

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That's the subject line of an email in my inbox.

Imagine my surprise.

"What are they implying?" I thought.

This is so not what I thought it would be about.

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Many people have asked me why I no longer draw the Anne Heche cartoons. Against the advice of my legal team, I am going to tell you why.

I have been in a bitter dispute with Anne's owner over the depiction of her cat (who's name is actually Duchess or Kitty or something lame like that). This dispute can be summed up in two words.

Hitler moustache.

Anne Heche has one. I didn't draw it.

That is our feud.

Said owner contends that the drawings no longer represent her cat. I contend that adding a black mark under the cartoon Anne's nose makes her look like Little Hitler Kitty. I also contend that I, like Erykah Badu, am an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit.

Once the lawyers got involved, it became very, very ugly.

I do realize many of you have a fondness for Anne Heche and all she represents. Therefore I give you this photo of Anne in her new digs.

Someone call the ASPCA.

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It seems the well has run dry on takers for my "help me get rid of a stamp" campaign. Oh well, the fun had to end sometime.

I've heard from a few people who received their Very Special® correspondence. I hope the rest arrive safely.

So today is National Coming Out Day. I asked Mary Mo how she and her boyfriend were going to celebrate.

Me: how are you and harris celebrating national coming out day today?
Mary: well
Mary: he came out
Mary: early this morning
Mary: but I think Ill wait til after work
Mary: shhh, dont tell anyone

I don't remember the exact date I came out. It must have been about 12 years ago. I think it was late summer/early fall. I just remember sitting up in bed after I woke up and thought, "Today is the day."

I went to work but thought of nothing else. After work, I went home, took a shower and hopped in my car and drove to see my mother. I didn't even call first.

I listened to Reunion by Indigo Girls while riding down the highway. Yes, I was a lesbian back then.

Just on the outskirts of her town, I had a flat. So my surprise visit became a surprise for me. I called my mom and told her where I was. We took my car to a repair shop and ate dinner while waiting for my car. After that, we went to her house and I told her.

Take this however you like because it goes either way: things have never been the same since.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

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We moved to another floor at my job yesterday. While cleaning out my desk I found not one, not two, not three but four books of stamps. FOUR!

I hate stamps. I rarely ever need them but when I do I can never find just one, so I'm buying 20 stamps. And then I can't find that book when I need them again so I end up buying another book of them. It's a vicious cycle with me and the postal service.

Looking at these stamps, I see that some are old. I'm not even sure how much stamps are. So if I use these, I'll likely put two on an envelope to make sure the postage is adequate.

Bah. I hate stamps.

So here's the deal. To exhaust my surplus, If you...yes you, send me your address, I will mail you something. May be a note. May be a card. May be a doodle. But it will a personal handwritten piece of correspondence from me which I'm sure you have been clamoring for.

You can email your address to me. You can find my email address up in the top right. You won't be added to any mailing lists except maybe a Christmahanukwanzaka list if I ever send out Christmahanukwanzaka cards.

However, probably what you do receive will have two stamps affixed.

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Adam and Kacy are bringing sexy back!

While the internet may be great for delivering information and changing the way we communicate, shop, express ourselves, get laid, etc. it's especially good at taking liberties with your friend's photos.

And taunting them with ghetto phone calls. (Holla!)

Long live the tubes!

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In September 2004, I joined a little website that was just starting to take off. You may have heard of it. It's called MySpace.

A week later, I cancelled my account after several 15 year old girls and creepy looking guys wanted to be my friend for no reason whatsoever other than the fact that, "Hey! You are on MySpace. So am I!"

It was bizarre and overwhelming. After I got a friend request from someone known as "captin wishwash," I reached my limit and promptly cancelled my account citing the "ick" factor.

Fast forward to 2006. Everyone and I mean EVERYONE - friends, dates, Romans, countrymen - asks me, "Are you on MySpace?" and when I tell them no I get "You've got to get on MySpace!" in tone of voice that suggests I'm either crazy or out-of-touch and crotchety for not being on it.

But I've resisted it because well, I think MySpace is butt ugly. It offends my web designer sensibilities. If HTML could inbreed, you would have MySpace. I look at some pages and I can't even find the text. And the GIFs. Oh Dear Lawd...the GIFs! They hurt my eyes and make the baby Jesus cry.

But I fear what I do not understand, so this weekend I caved and created a MySpace page.

Yes. I truly am a whore.

My page is pretty subtle now but I'm determined to make it as ugly and obnoxious as I can. I am open to suggestions.

Anyone know any fugly GIF sites?

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Thank you Kyle for giving me hope that non-lesbians can be familiar with The Original Righteous Babe — especially since Aaron was taking the day off as a lesbian.

For the record, here are my answers.

1. Granny smith
2. Skippy (the new natural kind that doesn't need to be stirred)

Especially good together.

3. Yahtzee (and I will kick your ass at it)
4. Black (although it does absorb heat and I seriously don't need any of that shit right now)
5. I like both of them equally, however the tracks recorded in Phoenix for So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter will always hold a special place in my heart. Plus I was a little out of it at the time.

And the bonus? Of course I'd be listening to my own little ditty a zillion times.

And CB...I know you downloaded it to your iPod immediately so stop frontin' and shake that ass.

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In lieu of posting, well...you know, actual life stuff (trust me there's little to say other than it is a billion degrees out and it makes me cranky), I thought it might be fun (easier) to take a poll a la Homer. Post your answers in the comments por favor.

1. Red delicious or granny smith?

2. Jif or Skippy?

3. Yahtzee or Scrabble?

4. Black or blue?

5. Living in Clip or So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter?

But wait...there's more! A BONUS question!

What is the most played song on my iTunes: Glory Wholesome or Shoes?

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one hundred eight! bleah.
someone please remind me why
i live in phoenix?

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Over the years I've picked up some life lessons from people in my life. Here are three.

A bad day off is better than a good day at work. This is so true.

You can't argue with drunks or crazy people. At the time, I had a boss who was crazy as a loon. Whenever I had a meeting with her, this was always at the forefront in my mind. It still amazes me that someone so looney could climb the corporate ladder so far.

Being shy never got anyone laid. No explanation needed for this one.

Any you care to share?

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Holy crap this is cool! Check out Slide.

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I freakin' LOVE this!

I was looking at the movie website for Strangers with Candy and followed a link to PETA and stumbled across this little Flash gem.

I particularly love that the reporter distracts her.

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Yes, this is belated, but this is seriously too effed up not to share.

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To quote Jill Scott, "This is for grown folks." All ya'll with kids or nazi bosses may wanna wait to view until the kiddies and your IT spies are in bed.

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I give my friend Adam a fair amount of shit and good natured ribbing. Luckily, he's a good sport about it and very adept at dishing it out as well as taking it. He's also pretty good at self deprecation.

So when I realized I could alter his podcasts in GarageBand, there was only one thing to do.

Make the hottest frickin' dance track EVAH!

This one's for all the boiz out there. Turn it up and shake what ya mama gave ya!

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This is pretty cool. Type something and it will be spelled with Flickr photographs!

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A few months ago, Micheale told me she and Cheryl were starting an organization for the issue of gay marriage. It has grown into something quite remarkable.

Straight Alliance for Marriage Equality (SAME) is an advocacy group whose mission is to educate, inspire and mobilize heterosexual activists in support of full marriage equality for same-sex couples.

One of the main goals of SAME is to have at least 300 straight allies march in New York City's Pride March this June 27. I think it's a brilliant concept: they don't want money, just people.

So what can you do to help? You can help spread the word. Let your friends and family, gay or straight, no about this initiative. Even if you don't live in New York or don't know anyone who does, spreading the word helps create awareness and education. (Did you know that federal law grants 1,049 benefits and responsibilities based on marital status - not to mention hundreds more offered by every state? That number is far more staggering than I imagined.)

Also, chances are someone you send information to is like to know someone in New York who may want to join. (It's that whole "they tell two friends and they'll tell two friends, and so on and so on..." concept.)

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Click here to make your own
snowflake or go to Ze Frank's Snowflake Maker

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How do you solve a problem like Maria?

Arnold's wife or the Crypt Keeper? You decide.

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The Boob Store

This morning I took a friend of mine to her plastic surgeon to have some
stitches removed on our way to work. She had a lift and an augmentation
last year but apparently she needed a touch up.

We walk into the office building, a building I have driven past many times but
never noticed what it was. Entering the waiting area, I notice the very
large watercolors of nude women. The paintings showcase their breasts of
course.

Then I look to the left of the room and I see a front torso sculpture of a woman,
nipples and all, made of black metal mesh hanging from the wall. I am
looking at in in horror, not because it's of the female form, but because it
looks so tacky.

My friend notices my expression and jokes, "It's art."

"You'd think they have them be a little bigger considering their
business."

"It's the before shot," she says. "The other one's in
back." She smiles.

A few minutes later a man and woman walk in. They sign in and sit.
Then the woman proceeds to stare at us. My friend is half way facing me so
she doesn't see it. I look up and the other woman looks away. We continue our
conversation and she is staring again. Now, I realize this lady is
probably just checking out my friend's merchandise, you know a little compare
and contrast, but rude is rude so I start
glaring at her blankly until she turns away.

They call my friend to the back and I read the paper. I then notice a set
of four photo albums on the coffee table. I assume they must be before and
after shots or maybe just random shots of chests like when you go to the
hairstylist and they have magazines and trade books to help you decide on a
style.

Once the waiting room is clear (It seems this process is a couples friendly
activity, but try getting your husband to go with you for your pap smear and see
what his reaction is.), I pick up one of the albums and open it, flush with the
thought I am doing something I'm not supposed to. The album is instead,
filled with thank you cards and notes. Pages and pages of appreciation to
the doctor who "changed" their lives.

It just seemed kind of empty, sad and shallow.

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"The years teach much which the days never knew." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Have a safe, happy and healthy holiday.

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Tomorrow is The Roommate's birthday. She is turning 29. She is
falling into the same "my youth is coming to an end" mindset that most
people do.

To celebrate "the end" of her youth, she has been having a series of
parties all week. One night out with the girls, one night out with
co-workers, etc. At tonight's gathering, she is having a contest for the
best haiku written about a woman on the verge of turning 30. Here are my
submissions.

kicking and screaming
i will not go quietly
into my thirties

crow's feet are marching
to battle my youthful face
oil of olay helps

i am so sorry
i can't hear over my clock
biological

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Packing uncovers forgotten memories. I used to keep a notebook on top
of my refrigerator to capture the works of refrigerator magnet poets.

By Nicole

imagine
a
velvet
reality

By Me

"my music is notorious because
the rhythm craves a sister who will conspire
with danger to dance & allure my creativity
to climb beyond the earth's mountains
leaving you to endure life without me."

By The Roommate

kiss it now then
juggle them, girl

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When you order from CD
Baby, you get the most wonderful email
confirmation after your order has been sent.

Your CDs have been gently taken from
our CD Baby shelves with sterilized contamination-free gloves and placed
onto a satin pillow.

A team of 50 employees inspected your CDs and polished them to make
sure they were in the best possible condition before mailing.

Our packing specialist from Japan lit a candle and a hush fell over
the crowd as he put your CDs into the finest gold-lined box that money
can buy.

We all had a wonderful celebration afterwards and the whole party
marched down the street to the post office where the entire town of
Portland waved 'Bon Voyage!' to your package, on its way to you, in our
private CD Baby jet on this day, Friday, September 6th.

I hope you had a wonderful time shopping at CD Baby. We sure did.
Your picture is on our wall as "Customer of the Year". We're
all exhausted but can't wait for you to come back to CDBABY.COM!!

Thank you once again,

Derek Sivers, president, CD Baby

It makes me wish I worked there.

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I was over Survivor a few minutes after Richard Hatch drove off in his new SUV with his million dollar prize. I've seriously avoided most reality shows since then. (Well, except Murder in Small Town X which was like one of those interactive mystery dinner theater productions.) So imagine my surprise getting swept up in Frontier House last night.

Here is the premise: three families pledge to live in the Montana territory in the late 1800's for over four months. There is no big cash prize, just the 'experience'. That experience includes no
electricity, no running water, no toilet paper (eeek!!! imagine using leaves. yuck.),
no shampoo and no contraceptives (unless you want to use a condom made from a pig intestine).

The families had to got to a sort of 1883 boot camp to learn how to live with a certain amount of historical accuracy. This training included learning to swing an axe, churn butter and use whiskey in lieu of modern medicine.

There is still a certain Survivorish element. Two of the families already hate each other and spend much of their on camera time bitching about the other.
Their complaints are whiny and petty and of course that helped hook me.

Before they even began the reality of what they would be missing started sinking
in. One of the moms had a mini breakdown when she found out she couldn't wear make-up. "No respectable lady of the time wore make up unless she was in a theater troupe or a lady in a brothel."

My favorite homesteader is Nate, who is building his house with his dad. Once the house is built, his
fiancé is joining him. They'll get married in a period ceremony and live the frontier life together.

It will be interesting how the whole contraceptive issue comes into play then.

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My
horoscope for today: "Today's planetary configuration is very good
for writers, dear Leo. Likely you are finding it easier to write. Take advantage
of these auspicious conditions to put down all of your ideas on paper. You will
thank yourself on those days when you lack ideas. Think of it as loading up the
woodpile to feed your intellectual fire during the long winter months."

Um...then why do I have nothing to say?

This is my "expanded"
horoscope: "When it comes to
your financial situation, you should concentrate on saving. Of course, investing
some of your money would be even better if you could find a way to leave it in
trustworthy hands, but that scenario is extremely iffy at the moment. Vain
individuals have a hard time finding sycophants willing to sing their praises,
but nothing is out of the realm of possibilities. The Moon declares that it's
all about you, but with no pretense."

What is this about? Money? Vanity? The Moon? And what the hell is a sycophant? (Answer:
a servile self-seeking flatterer.)

My "Male"
horoscope says: "Although you're not usually one to
mince words, for the past month and a half something has prevented you from
confronting people openly. You may have felt uncertain of yourself, or sensed
that your judgment was impaired for some reason. You can relax now; the ordeal
is over. You return to being a proud and self-confident Leo, perhaps a bit
chastened by your recent experiences..."

Now that's more like it!

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• Good Day Live is pure drivel and a horrible, horrible TV show, but for some reason I keep watching it. Why?
• John Edward gives me the ick.
• Vicodin is a good friend to have.
• I really need to clean my room.
• Green tea is gross enough but green tea with a "splash of fruit flavor" is grosser.
• My war against my allergies is still raging on.
• I need a vacation. An actual vacation with airports and suitcases and stuff.
• Is it strange that all the Friends chicks have all dated significantly older men (Tom Selleck, Bruce Willis & Alec Baldwin)?
• Is it even stranger that I'm thinking that?

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Question: Whom do you admire the most? In what way does that person inspire you?

Excerpts from the responses:

Stacy: The person I most admire is my husband, Robert. He is the only person I know who can just inherently be himself. He is just quietly and amazingly Robert. I have never heard him judge another person. He just seems to have no reason to. He has a beautiful heart and spirit. He doesn't hold a grudge. He is a great father to our children in more ways than I can list. I feel safe when he is with me, like we could triumph over anything. And he looks fantastic in his underwear.

Micheale: So I thought about this, and at the risk of being corny, I could not think of any better candidate than my own girlfriend. In my life, I have admired many people's qualities, but I see that most of them struggle to figure out what's important and are afraid to act on it when they do. Cheryl instinctively knows what is important and real, and she doesn't screw around in getting down to the often difficult work that we all have to do in order to do this "life thing." She is fearless, spiritual, and kind.

Jennifer: My initial response is my son Jackson, but then I thought that might seem trite. But I don't suppose it should be considered trite if it is the truth. He inspires me through his innocence. He begins each day fresh. He carries no grudges and wants to be nice to each person he meets. He judges no one, he just sees another potential friend. He finds joy in most things, joy that causes him to laugh out loud. He inspires me to mimic his view of the world and he inspires me to do whatever necessary to ensure that he holds onto his innocence.

Me: This was hard. I resisted the urge to pick someone I don't know like Oprah for instance. After giving it much thought, I realized I kept coming back to the same person, my friend Micheale. She is open, honest, compassionate and extremely intelligent. Whenever I spend time with her, I walk away having learned something either about myself, her or the world around me. Our friendship enriches me.

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When I was in college I pledged a couple fraternities. (I know, I know...it seems so unlike me.) The only thing I liked about the pledging process was interviews. We were expected to interview the members to get to know them better. Now, most people asked basic and boring questions, much like those email surveys that make the rounds; "What's your full name?", "Where did you go to high school?", "What's your favorite color?", etc. Those questions bored me to tears. I hated asking them and I hated answering them. Also, most pledges thought the more questions they asked the better the interview. I dreaded the long laundry list interviews.

When I was a senior pledging one fraternity, I decided to do something different and a bit unprecedented. I asked only twenty questions. I didn't ask anyone's name, hometown or favorite color. I didn't care about that crap, nor did I think it would help me get to know anyone better. I asked questions that provoked conversation and reflection. I asked questions about values, morals and choices...questions I thought would help me really get to know the people I was interviewing.

Most of the questions came from The Book Of Questions. It's a tiny little book to stimulate self-discovery or conversation. I found it the other day in a box. I haven't picked it up in ages. I went through and marked some of my favorites.

So, if you will indulge me, I'd like to ask these questions to you. I'll just do one at a time in a sort of series. Once I receive your answers, I'll post my answer and selected responses. If you prefer not to have your response public, let me know in the email.

Here's an excerpt from the introduction of the book: Don't simply answer "yes" or "no" to these questions - probe and explain your responses and pursue interesting tangents. There are no correct or incorrect answers to these questions, only honest and dishonest ones.

Here we go...

Question #1

Whom do you admire the most? In what way does that person inspire you?

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I've been reading Sarah Vowell's wickedly funny book, Take the Cannoli.

A couple years ago I saw her and David Sedaris read some of their works at the Scottsdale Center for the Arts. My favorite story is Music Lessons, I suppose because I can relate to it, having endure countless years running across a football field festooned with a giant hat that made me look like a human Q-tip.

Alternately, I've also been reading e by Matt Beaumont. Set in the backstabbing word of a London ad firm, the story is told in a succession of emails. The bad thing about that is like most corporate emails, I just skim through them and only read what interests me. By the time I got to the end, I realized I skipped over the major plot, so I didn't really know what was going on. I'll have to go back some day and really read it.

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