Monday
Feb092009

Chicken, yeah that's me

DateMon, February 9, 2009 at 5:50 AM

I hate to be the one to bring it up, but there are a few of us who will reach a fairly significant milestone this year--FORTY. 4-0. Foe-tee. Four damn decades. For-fucking-ty.

Me, thrilled? HELL NO! But, I'm taking a small bit of comfort in the fact that others before me have survived AND a bloggy friend is going through this too! And she's first! Kirsten celebrated her big fortieth this weekend. Hopefully she'll tell me it wasn't that painful or at least offer some tips on how to block out all memory of the occasion!

Personally I think we're pretty damn special, I mean we are '69 babies. That's a memorable position year, right? Plus we were born in the year of the COCK! Rooster. Male chicken. Future KFC meal. So that's cool.

rooster

Oh, and I was reading about Roosters and the synopsis said that we're, "deep thinkers, capable, and talented". OF COURSE! Was there any doubt? It also mentioned "eccentric", but you can't really trust EVERYTHING you read on the internetz.

Something I didn't know is that Roosters Chickens are compatible with Ox, Snake, and Dragon. The Ox makes sense cuz they're strong, hardworking and usually well hung (I'm guessing), but the Snake and Dragon are predators! What the hell? I'm snack-size for those dudes! Maybe us Chickens aren't meant to lead long lives? Okay, so I might be lucky to be turning forty. But still. . . "cluck-cluck".

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Saturday
Feb072009

Who knew!?!

DateSat, February 7, 2009 at 7:08 AM

My cool boy

Know what's cool with the kids these days? Me!

Yes, four out of five of my friend A's kids think I'm da shit! Well, that's rounding up. I think it was more like two one out of five. And I'm pretty sure the term used was "cool", as in "she's nobody's parent and she doesn't even act like an adult so we don't necessarily need to shun her."

But seriously, who knew that kids appreciated the quirky goodness of a "somewhat" (nevermind the details schmetails) unemployed, house sitting, cat loving, off-balance, no life having, older-than-dirt grad student and all around lovable beotch?? 

Damn those kids are good judges of character. Or at least one of them. So I have that to cling to. Maybe now I can stop seeking validation from bloggy friends, acquaintances and total strangers online. HA! *snort* Like I could give up THAT drug!

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photo by Parksy1964  Some rights reserved

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Thursday
Feb052009

Times have changed, evidently

DateThu, February 5, 2009 at 9:21 AM

FREE BEER 3.3 Ready to Drink!

Before college I was goodie-two-shoes squared. (but please, don’t let that get out.)

Unfortunately that sad little character flaw contributed to my decision to attend a private college on a dry campus. Fortunately, the campus was moist, just not a top ten party school.

And now as a grad student I’m shocked to see student health newsletters that include headlines like:

Drinking Games: How to Come Out a Winner

Whoa, what?? Come on people, everybody knows it’s more fun to LOSE at drinking games! Seriously, what kind of pussy-footed college drinkers are we trying to create? At least in my day, even on my conservative little campus, they didn’t try to convince us to drink sensibly. Instead they employed the age old practice of denial. AND IT WORKED OUT BEAUTIFULLY! Except for a tiny glitch my sophomore year when I was completely annihilated, hid (poorly) from the cops, was dragged out and questioned, strongly reprimanded for underage drinking, and reported to the dean. But still, those were good times!

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Saturday
Jan312009

Uhhhh…

DateSat, January 31, 2009 at 8:53 PM

I have a problem. (for the sake of full disclosure this is actually only one of MANY problems I have, but whatever)

I feel the overwhelming need to strangle White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs. Or at least punch him in the head. Better yet, pull his vocal cords out through his penis. All because of the—”uh”.

Seriously. Listening to Gibbs in a press briefing is MADDENING! The man, uh, can’t, uh, stop, uh, saying, “uh”, uh!

How can he NOT be aware of this? The man only speaks publicly on a DAILY BASIS and is recorded by HUNDREDS of media outlets. Has no one ever said to him, “Dude, you’ve got a serious UH problem”?

I really don’t care what it takes to get his problem fixed—speech therapy, lobotomy, jaw wired shut—but for the sake of my fellow American’s ears and my superior communication sensibilities something MUST be done.

Your suggestions for possible solutions are always welcome. (please be aware--if your comments lead to the Secret Service showing up at my door I will totally give you up. but only because I believe in tough love, and I do loves you)

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Friday
Jan302009

Thug-ercise

DateFri, January 30, 2009 at 11:15 AM

Last week I joined the local Y. But in my opinion the place should be called the “Why”. . . 

Why am I here? Why, exactly, do I need to be healthy? Why am I so gawd awful sweaty? Why is the guy next to me working out so freakin’ hard? Why do I feel like I’m having a bad hair day AND a heart attack?

To make matters worse I was completely unprepared for the horrid experience of getting my picture taken for the stupid membership card. GAH! 91463_Gangsta-Girl_620

It was so much worse than any DMV photo I’ve ever had taken. I was rockin’ it with no makeup, ratty hair, baseball cap, lumpy coat, head cocked to one side, lip snarl, and a vacant look in my slits for eyes. I pretty much made love to the camera like this gangsta girl, except I was lookin’ 1000 times more ridiculous doin’ the thug thing.

Why, I ask ya, do they even bother? I’m never going to admit it’s me in the real picture. In fact that membership card may or may not have already met an untimely demise; snipped into tiny bits, burned to ashes, and buried in a remote location. On the up side, I’m counting going to such extremes as a full workout.

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