Awkwardly Social

Apparently the people who clean my office didn’t want to throw away the El Pollo Loco cup I put in the trash can. This morning it was sitting all innocently on my desk, like, “Hey, this still is drinkable. You shouldn’t be a waster.” I put it back in the trash hoping it won’t return to my desk tomorrow.

I think it’s amusing that both parties want to keep the camera on their candidate while they’re speaking. Like a tv director would ever do that! heh. Stupid politicians. I have nine finger nails all prepped to be chewed off tonight during debate time. One went this morning…

I requested my absentee ballot yesterday from Arizona. (I’m still technically a resident there and this way my vote actually means something…) I can’t wait to get it!

Please vote for John Kerry.

And I think I wore a pair of pants today that totally make me look fat in addition to being a color that shows coffee really well. It’s extra special. And you should know, I spilled the coffee on my crotch area. Yeah. It’s been like that today.

Vote for John Kerry.

[sigh]

I’m sad today. Not super sad, just sort of sad. Super sad leaves me crying into my pillow. Sort of sad makes me go to bed early and hit snooze for two hours, except that I can’t hit snooze for 2 hours anymore, because skipping work isn’t like skipping class. I have to go to work. Class was optional. I think I’m having a bit of post-grad school blues. How lame.

Michael Moore is my new boyfriend.

I don’t know why, but this letter made me feel better. Is that sad?

Also from Gen X’s blog I have this letter from George Soros.

Oh. And I just got into an IM fight with the EMT. I’m so fucking immature.

I can’t stop posting links. This one actually made me wish I was in fourth grade again.

So. The EMT and I went to see Shaun of the Dead last night and I recommend it. Really funny. Oddly sweet. Great cameos. Nice nods to zombie movie conventions. A little scary. If you like zombies, British blokes, ‘post-modern’ comedies, and buddy movies, you really won’t be disappointed.

Also my ‘bickering gene’ is well on it’s way to making me unbearable to be around. I was quite contrary yesterday. I blame the marine layer and my uterus. It’s a good thing the EMT isn’t easily annoyed.

The weather is cooling down for the time being in Los Angeles and it’s nice to wake up in the morning all snuggled into bed, crisp air around you and a warm cup of coffee waiting for you at the Sev. Oh, and having a boy that doesn’t snore sleeping next to you is also really nice.

It’s Tuesday. I know. Only Tuesday.

So Ands had the ‘A List’ up to the Malibu Barbie Beach House on Sunday.

It was cloudy but it cleared up.

There was a nice laid back feeling to the day. We watched the sunset. We drank margaritas. We ate burgers and cookies. The boys argued about who should be best man for whom. The girls talked about blow jobs. Seriously. I learned something this weekend that I’m sad to say disappointed me. A girl is expected to give blow jobs for the rest of her life. I KNOW! Are you as surprised as I am? No? Apparently I’m the only one who was surprised. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I’d like to shout out Mike and Cynthia for being absolutely adorable, Wendy and Rob for always enjoyable conversation, Jenn and James for being brave enough to go into the icy water, Jonah for admitting he doesn’t read the blog even if I do shout him out, Danny for dealing with the awkward questioning in the kitchen, Mike (again) for changing the subject seamlessly for poor Danny, and Cats for bringing focus group precision to the discussion, and finally Ands for making this summer super fabulous.

Have a good stupid Monday. Summer’s over.

There is this tree on our block, a very foul smelling tree. We call it, I’m sorry this is disgusting but it’s the only way to describe it, the cum tree. I was walking back from a nice filling Sunday breakfast at the Coffee Table when I was met by the tree with the foul odor. After almost vomiting, twice, I decided I must know the name of this awful blight on our block so as to prevent accidentally planting such a digusting plant in my own yard. Searching on the web for it’s name proved to be a little frustrating. Apparently the nicer Aboretum sites don’t want to list things in the descriptions of trees, like ’smells like semen’. [Mom and Dad, I have no idea what that thing I said before actually smells like, I’ve just been told…] I got to peruse sites like this. Yeah. Click on that link. I dare you. Not only do they talk about nipple piercing, but also ’semen trees’. It’s a veritable fountain of information that site. I think, however, that I comparing pictures of the trees mentioned to the offending tree on my block, that it is indeed a Carob Tree. Think about that next time you’re in the health food store looking for a tasty alternative to chocolate.

First of all, there really is no way to talk about something that happened last night in a discreet fashion. So I won’t talk about it. I’m totally blushing thinking about it, and I think it would actually make for an amusing read for those of you who know me, but I really can’t figure out a way to say what I need to say without actually saying anything that won’t embarrass me more. This is the trouble with having your family read your blog. Note to self: inner volume control is totally broken after having two Drawing Room vodka tonics on an empty stomach. [Not that self will remember this ’cause when she’s drunk, she’s retardedly forgetful.]

The EMT took me to see Sarah Silverman last night. Holy christ, that woman is hi-larious. I’ve seen her on talk shows and in the occasional guest spot on television, but she really has polished her performance and came with some great material. Her delivery is so spot on, it’s amazing. The girl pissed off so many people using the word ‘chink’ on national television, I think she has no real worry about doing ’safe’ comedy. And I quote, “Please God, let the police find semen in my dead grandma’s vagina.” She sang two songs, and did about an hour of material. It was being shot for a ‘concert film’ so hopefully you can see it soon.

Oh. And Waller, you’ll be happy to know, Montana from Real World Boston was in the audience. My first Real World sighting. What a night!

So in the interest of supporting people’s careers with whom I’ve played Taboo, I watched <a href=”http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0411014/”>The Mountain</a> last night.  DEEEEElightful.  People are saying it’s The OC with snow, but it’s not.  It’s the new Dallas, with snow.  Good Job, Mr. Hollywood Hills Home!  You’re  working on a fun show, just enough sass and family drama to make it a great guilty pleasure.  But maybe you could tell Barbara Hershey that her hair looks funny.  It’s like a wig, but not.  Sort of perched oddly on her head as if it wasn’t attached.  It’s very distracting.

Also, <a href=”http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0411008/%20″>Lost</a>, terrific.  J.J. Abrams. You. Are. Awesome.  Matthew Fox,  you must take off your shirt every episode.  I’m telling you, you must!  (BTW: I might never be able to get on a plane again.  Unless, of course, Matthew Fox gets on with me.)

Also, in the weird-what-the-fuck-is-going-on-in-my-head-category, I had a dream that Sarah Jessica Parker gave me an ass massage.  Yeah.  You heard me, an ass massage.  But the thing was, it wasn’t any good.  I kept thinking, “SJP is no good at the ass massage, maybe she’s just too weak.”  And then I wondered why she would even try and give me an ass massage if she couldn’t do it properly.  Hmmm.

The EMT brought me flowers. [no one ever brings me flowers…] He likes The Gilmore Girls. [he might have even shushed me at one point during it.] He refuses to be swayed by Sophia Bush’s beauty and fall in love with One Tree Hill. [he did make an excellent point about Brooke and Peyton needing to release some of the sexual tension by making out. dude. they totally splash fought while skinny dipping!]

Is anyone less curious than I am about Britney’s new perfume? I’m guessing it smells a little sad and pathetic. Maybe with a touch of desperation and a little trailer trash thrown in. Oh Britney. [sigh] You…. I don’t know. I miss the virgin in whore’s clothing. Now you’re just a wannabe Liz Taylor, minus the talent.

Anybody know who the next big thing is? Let me know, I have a vacancy in the pop singer/media whore category.

I had to go to church when I was in MN.

There was an insert in the back of the program that was advertising some speaker who was going to talk about Creationism. It said that young people are strongly encouraged to come because they are being brainwashed in public schools by being taught the theory of Evolution as ‘fact’. Hmmm.

Here’s the Big Detroit Lake, it was right outside my hotel room.

This is where Grandpa used to take us to swim, different part of Big Detroit Lake.

This is the first house I ever lived in, in Minneapolis. It used to be white with red trim. They left Tavia’s tree in the front yard, but cut down mine. My dad built that wall in front.

My old block on Colfax Avenue, is really quite liberal.

And finally, a trip to Minnesota wouldn’t be complete without a picture of a barn. This was my Great Grandpa’s.

It’s good to be home.