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Archive for the ‘Bringing home the bacon’ Category

Two weeks until my birthday. Hooray! My family has asked me what I want for presents and I’ve shown them my Amazon Wishlist. How much do you want to bet that I don’t get one thing on there? My family never listens to me. I know I sound like a spoiled brat, but I’m really not. Last year I got decorative floral boxes (I’m not a decorative floral box person) and plastic place mats for my kitchen table. All of these are stored away in my closet. Oh, I forgot to mention the flannel wrap with fringe. I think it’s much better if I just tell people what I want.

However, I did get a fishing pole last year for my birthday. There is hope, I suppose.

My downstairs neighbor’s have been so loud this weekend that I’m going out of my head. They’ve been yelling at each other, slamming doors, listening to their TV’s so loud I can’t think, and oh dear….the arena rock….makes me homicidal. To make matters worse, last night I came home from meeting a friend for dinner and my apartment smelled like cigarette smoke (they both smoke). I sprayed the whole place down with air freshener and then lit a bunch of incense to get rid of the smell. They are yelling as I write this. It’s damn irritating.

Is anyone else really excited about the second season of Rome? I love this show. They’re rerunning the first season just now. It’s unlike any other show there is. And I must confess that I’ve had plenty a fantasy about Vorenus having his way with me. In every way imaginable. And I have a very good imagination. There is something about the way Kevin McKidd plays the character that is so savagely passionate. And those togas. Makes my thighs quiver. Dear lord he is beautiful.

I learned how to crochet yesterday. I’m making a scarf. We’ll see how it goes. I’m not one for hobbies (blogging being an exception), but I need something to make me relax. I’m wound up. I need something to do until I get laid. So, there might be lots of scarfs and other knitwear coming out of this. Don’t be surprised if you find one waiting for you in your mailbox. Even if you live in Texas. It’s either that or send me a lover.

Yeah, that’s all I got.

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I think I’ve lost my ability to nap. Everytime I lay down to take one of these, be it a short power nap or a long afternoon sleepfest, I get restless and start thinking about all of the things I’ve got to do and how napping is just lazy. I used to be so good at it. I would fantasized about getting snuggled into my couch in the afternoon and close my eyes. A light blanket would offer me its warmth. The sun shining on my face. Or, even better, listening to the rain out my window. Ahhhh. Those were the days. I need my napping skills back. I don’t know how I lost them. Is it the time of year? The lack of sex? The holidays? The phone ringing? Who the fuck knows.

I’m tired. I’ve been working my ass off this week. Last night I spent the evening trying, unsuccessfully, to install DSL onto my mother’s ancient computer. After 3 hours of staring at her monitor waiting for the shit to install over a dial-up internet, I had to give up. I’m going back on Sunday for more fun times. I didn’t sleep very well last night because Stella Marie wanted to play with her brown mouse on me. For the new people, Stella Marie is my cat.

I have nothing else to talk about really. I’m just going to type whatever is on my mind. This should be fun.

Why do I love dirty men? You know, the kind of guy that’s a man’s man. I am not attracted to men in suits. A guy in a suit could ask me out and I’d probably be indifferent or even say no, but if that same man asked me out after doing a bunch of manual labor and was dirty and sweaty, I’d be all over him. Is that messed up?

Do you know what show was really great? M.A.S.H. I love that show. I just watched 3 episodes and I never realized how good it is.

What the fuck is up with all of the dancing reality shows? Does anyone give a shit? First, it was all of the reality dating shows, then it was a zillion talent shows, and now its dancing reality shows. The WE Network is holding a “Dirty Dancing” contest to look for the next Baby. Guess who the host is? J-Ho’s ex, Cris Judd. Who is watching this shit and if you are, explain to me what the appeal is?

Why do I think Jason from Ghost Hunters is dreamy?

My legs are hurting bad. I started running a couple weeks ago and my thighs are killing me. I just slathered muscle rub stuff all over them and now I smell like menthol. Yes, I’m a sexy bitch….look out.

I want cake. Chocolate box cake with fudge icing and a big cold glass of milk.

I need to figure out what to get the little girl I read to every Wednesday for Christmas. Any ideas?

Monkeys freak me the fuck out. I look at them and it’s like they know something humans don’t. And they’re comfortable enough to throw poo at each other when they’re pissed. Humans aren’t allowed to do that. We’d get arrested or something. I think throwing poo would be way more effective than giving the middle finger. Much more. Cause it’s gross and smelly.

Um, like I needed to explain why throwing poo would be effective. Like you all don’t know it’s gross and smelly. State the obvious much Debbie?

I’m thinking of taking my nipple ring out. It will be two years old in January and I’m over it. It’s not like anyone’s playing with but me anyhow. I’ll let you all what I decide. I know you all will be on the edge of your seats waiting for this breaking news.

Okay, I’m going now. Time for my bubble bath and sleepy-time.

Smooches.

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Lunchtime chatter.

A 20 minute conversation about the Smurfs. JW says that Gargamel had a girlfriend, but I don’t believe him. L knows more about the Smurfs than a grown female should. I didn’t remember Hefty Smurf or Scaredy Smurf. We all want to know where Baby Smurf came from. JW thinks that Papa Smurf snuck in on Smurfette one night and then he puts his finger to his lips and goes, “Shhhh, it’s all right Smurfette. Papa’s here.” like that’s what Papa Smurf would say to woo Smurfette. I hurt myself laughing.

Then I confessed that my favorite show growing up was none other than the classic, Fraggle Rock. We then went through all of the characters and suddenly I broke out with the song, “Please water run” which nobody recognized but I know was on the episode when they didn’t have water because the Gorgs messed up the well called Let the Water Run.

And finally, I bought Dark Chocolate Chunk and Almond Cookies at Trader Joe’s today and I can’t stop eating them. So, the following conversation took place:

Me: Someone help me. I can’t stop eating the cookies. Take them away.
L: I’ll help you.
Me: Help eat my cookies? Cause I could stick my face in there.
JW: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

It took me a minute to figure out what was so funny. And then I started laughing (with a mouth full of cookies, cause I’m still eating them).

This is my 200th post, by the way. Yippee!

UPDATE:


This picture is for Sage, who wanted to see the empty Nutella jar with my spoon in it. Here it is because I couldn’t throw it away without scraping the last bits out of it.


And this picture is for Liz. See sweetie. I’m okay. I got a bigger jar this time. All is right with the world now.

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I moved cubicles today. Yay!!! I’m next to the window and near all my favorite people in my department. I can’t tell you all how much better this is going to make me work. I have trouble editing proofs with headphones and music, so it was torture trying to concentrate while the Whistler whistled and never shut up. I was bringing so much work home. I’m hoping that now I can get the work I need to concentrate on finished during regular business hours.

One stupid thing I did while moving my stuff was that I kept my heels on as I walked back and forth from my old desk to the new one. My feet are still aching. So are my calves. Dumb Debbie.

I cooked dinner tonight. It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt inspired to cook. And it’s been too hot. I made one of my favorites, Farfalle with chicken and broccoli in a lemon garlic sauce. I put the recipe up on my sorry excuse of a recipe blog. So, go there if you like a lot of lemon and garlic and yumminess.

Claire de lune….my soundtrack

I’ve been feeling very sentimental tonight. Actually, all weekend (despite the odd encounters with assholes). When I was loading songs onto my Ipod I came across one of my favorite pieces of music. It was one of the first things I put on the Ipod, but I didn’t listen to it because I know what it does to me. Sometimes I’m afraid to go where the piece takes me. It’s not a bad place, but it’s a place of intense love and beauty and comfort. No other piece of music has this effect on me. It’s almost like a trance.

The first time I heard it I was 12 years old. I was listening to my first Walkman late at night and was surfing the stations. I came across a classical music station I didn’t know about. I listened to a few pieces of music before this particular piece was played. I have been under it’s spell ever since.

Listening to Debussy’s Claire de lune destroys me in the best way possible. I can’t move when I’m listening to it. It’s impossible to describe what goes through my mind when it’s playing because it’s so personal. It moves over me like a memory I can’t quite put my finger on. A memory from another time that I haven’t gotten to yet…maybe…or the memory is from another life. I close my eyes and I’m surrounded by warmth and coolness all at once. I’m enclosed in comfort and softness. I’m humbled. I’m satisfied. I’m happy. And yet when it’s over I feel like someone has ripped me out of the womb again.

There was a little peak into my mind. Something extremely personal. You might find that a weird statement considering the things I’ve shared with you all. But there are some things that aren’t so visceral, do you know what I mean? This little piece of music defines me in a way.

Debussy found inspiration for this piece in a poem by Paul Verlaine.

Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair,
Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,
That play on lutes and dance and have an air
Of being sad in their fantastic trim.
The while they celebrate in minor strain

Triumphant love, effective enterprise,
They have an air of knowing all is vain;
And through the quiet moonlight their songs rise–
The melancholy moonlight, sweet and lone,

That makes to dream the birds upon the tree,
And in their polished basins of white stone
The fountains tall to sob with ecstacy.

If you are looking for this piece, please do yourself a favor and find a rendition played by a solo pianist. Maybe you’ll love it too.

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