Friday, October 08, 2004

London, baby!

I'm feeling sad and nostalgic today because it was a year ago that I left for the most fun, happy, exhausting trip of my life.

I remember sitting in the airport, waiting for my plane to come in. Logging onto the Internet to check my email one more time, to send a message to my parents saying "Bon Voyage!" (or something slightly less boring), buying a Juicy Tube at the Duty Free shop (where I sang Kramers "I like to stop at the Duty free shop!" song to myself repeatedly in my head) and thinking about everything I was about to see.

I remember standing in the tube station in London looking up at the sun and thinking "I'm here!" and being so happy (and, let's face it, damn tired and jet lagged) in that moment it makes me tear up, still.

I think about walking in Notting Hill and looking at buildings.

Buying too many cards and too much stationary at Harrods (as Mereubu recently reminded me from an email I sent her while I was there "I traded paper for paper!")

Spending hours in Internet cafes, drinking cappachino. That Italian guy who was listening to his headphones and smoking up a storm. He was nice enough to offer me a cigarette too.

I laugh at the memory of getting to Edinburgh and waiting for Andy. I saw him once, as he ran by me in his oversized coat, looking flustered and confused. I called out to him, but he didn't hear me. I knew he would be back.

Walking the streets with him while he told the story of Duff Brogan (Andy, did I spell it right?) and "BLOODY HELL!" I developed an intense pain in my big toe and I limped back to his house after him where his five year old Catronia called me "Amalieee" and said "play with me!" It was an order, not a request.

V, Andy's wife, made me love her when she said she would spit her drink in my face. You may have had to be there.

I think about how thrilled I was to be there and with these people I knew only because of this crazy weird Internet world and feeling like everything was for a reason. Things were the way they were supposed to be, and I was in the very right place.

Remembering being lost in Brighton while I searched for that band that I lurve. Two drunk Englishmen begged me for a pound so they could buy cigarettes and one kept telling me "Agughg, you're GORGEOUS!" and finally kissed me on my cheek before he stumbled away.

Spending an hour sitting at the beach, taking photos of the dilapidated boardwalk and filling my pockets with jagged rocks, tumbled smooth.

I think about my Angel Bouncer outside the club who first informed me the show was Sold Out. Then seeing my FACE BREAK IN TWO and hearing my meek "but I came all the way here!" He said "not from AMERICA", and I laughed and said "well, not TODAY". Finally he LITERALLY DRAGGED me to the back of the club and said "STAND BY THE BUSES! GET ON THE LIST!" I looked skeptical, I'm sure (not wanting to be That Girl) and we were chatting when he suddenly yelled "There's the BASS PLAYER!" Silent monologue 'oh, The Lovely Bass Player (TLBP) I have a little crush on? His first interaction with me will be my BEGGING FOR A TICKET? Awesome'. Anyway, thanks for that Angel Bouncer, I got in the show. I got on the list. I got TLBP looking in my eyes and repeating my name back to me twice. THANK YOU ANGEL BOUNCER, wherever you are! Good karma goes around and will come back to you, for sure.

Remembering Miss Leah and screaming our lungs out the next night at show #2 of That Band That I Lurve. Blinding all those boys with my flash and making lotsa MEANINGFUL EYE CONTACT with my LBP.

Buying three ginourmous T-shirts outside the club, for Mereubu, Zan, and Me.

Spending hours at the National History Museum and going to the cafeteria only to discover OH MY GOD THEY DO NOT HAVE LARGE COFFEE? Running to Pret a Manger to buy a sandwich and PRAISE THE LORD A LARGE CAPPACHINO!

Going back to Harrods on my last day and buying Yet More Paper.

That lovely lotion from Boots. (Stupid America with our boring CVS)

Riding the London Eye with Steve and Barry. "We're not going to fall to our death, right?" "Right." ... "Good."

Trying to fit all the stuff I bought back into my bag. Thinking 'SWEET BABY JESUS WHY DID I BUY ALL THIS PAPER?'

That extremely annoying woman who sat next to me on the way home and could not for the life of her figure out her headphones. "Do yours work? Mine are broken!" After putting on my headphones, my sunglasses AND grabbing my magazine she TAPPED ME ON THE SHOULDER to shove her free Virgin socks in my face and ask me "what do you think of this color? Would you wear these?" Oy.

Dad picking me up at the airport to tell me Mug fell down and broke her arm. I left and SHE FELL DOWN AND BROKE HER ARM. Oh, the guilt!

Going home and petting that poor neglected cat.

Looking at pictures, organizing souvenirs (OH MY GOD, THE PAPER!) , and getting re-acclimated to my stupid boring everyday life.

The best trip ever. I was in charge, I was the boss of myself, and I did everything I wanted to do. I am such a spoiled little girl.

I'll even talk with a British accent, if you like.


Thursday, October 07, 2004

Everyday sites

Bored at work and was randomly clicking through the sites I visit regularly - here is a list:

Fug Blog. Most of you blogger peeps already know this one but oh, sooooo funny. I am clicking on them every couple hours to see if they updated yet.

Television Without Pity - I am a TV head girl so I just love this site. I heart the snark.

Fametracker. Always worth reading. Sometimes I peruse the archives just to see what I have missed.

Engrish. Another good one to look at the archives of. I know there are things I have missed. Plus, they post a new photo every day. His captions are half the fun.

CNN. Yeah, sometimes I actually read the news. Shocking, I know.

Dooce. Miss Dooce at least ads a photo every day and she generally does more than that. She's a damn funny lady. I *virtually* bow at her feet.

Google. You know them, you love them. I am there a few times a day searching for something. Last thing I looked for was an image of a poppy. I am considering getting that for tattoo #5.

Fotolog. I have my own flog there but I also check out a bunch of others every day. You could spend hours and days looking there. It seemingly goes on forever.

Later I'll do shopping sites and other things I love. There are more in my little sidebar there, but I feel those are sometimes neglected. Sorry, kids. I love you all equally. I promise.

Is this day over yet? YAWN.

Happy clicking!


Thursday blather

I posted a very long entry yesterday about my five favorite things and then when I went to post it, it was mysteriously and OH SO TRAGICALLY lost. Gone forever into the Internet void. Where do these posts and lost emails vanish to? I think they are sitting in a pile with lost socks, umbrellas, and those lost keys you can never seem to find.

Last night Pinky and I watched Americas Next Top Model and talked during every commercial break. I think what cracks me up most about that show is the way Tyra acts like modeling will save the world. She got so mad at the one (now eliminated) girl when it became clear she wanted to use modeling as a stepping stone. Unheard of! No, I have NEVER heard of models becoming ANYTHING ELSE, like actresses, or photographers, or, UM, I don't know - WANNA BE SINGERS, have YOU, Tyra?


I left work at 3:30 yesterday. After becoming very bitchy to the Global Crackerhead and then having to deal with scheduling an interview candidate for tomorrow, I can't even remember when the last time I did any of MY work was. But I was so tired and I think I am a bit run down by last week and the stress of things here lately, so I just left. Luckily, my paycheck was waiting for me so then I went and bought new shampoo and nail stuff and two magazines which I flipped through but will probably never read. Anyway, the only thing which got me to work today was the knowledge that I could get a giant latte at Starbucks once I got off the train. And I am nursing that puppy for as long as I can. Dear Vente Vanilla Skim Latte, I love you. Thank you for being there for me. Love, Emily

I think it is fall again now. For real. I have to go through my clothes this weekend and pull out the fall sweaters and ill fitting pants. Hurrah. What is it about pants? I can never find a pair that is cute and I ALWAYS have to hem them. Damn short legs. I curse thee! My project this weekend is to phase out the summer things (wah) and phase in the fall ones. My t-shirt drawer is frightening. I swear I am going to look in there one day and find a criminal hiding out or a small person who is made of cotton. "Oh, Hi. I've just been sitting in here forming myself out of your YMCA staff shirt from fifteen years ago and this Babaloo shirt you got for free in 1997. Don't mind me."

So, perhaps I will go shopping this weekend too. Cute pants are my Holy Grail and I know they are out there somewhere. They are bootcut, they are fabulous, and the legs aren't too long.

I have a dream.


Wednesday, October 06, 2004

200 things

Out of these 200 things - I have done 84. I tried to paste it but the formatting gets lost and I am too tired to put it all in again. I will be mysterious and leave you wondering! Check it out and see how many of those random things you have done.

Watch the debate last night? I saw about the first 20 minutes. I can't stand Dick Cheney. He's such a scary monster of a man. I know that is not very diplomatic but he simply freaks me out. I am hoping so much for Kerry/Edwards to win, but I am trying to prepare myself for the worst. I just don't know what will happen.

Here's hoping.


Tuesday, October 05, 2004

she is a woman with too many dogs

But she loves them, y'all.

So go read Miss Doxie's new entry. She is so amusing and funny. I think she is my new hero. Oh, and she said she knows my site so HELLO MISS DOXIE IN THE FABULOUS SHOES! You are so funny! You have The Shiny Brightness! Even with dogs who poop on guests!!

I think I have a bit of a girly crush on her. I hope she's not scared.

Judging by her photos, I think Elroy outweighs her dogs, so who is more ashamed than me and my fat fatty cat?

Um, no one.

In other news, Miss Doxie = very damn funny. Read it.


Morrissey and the Saddest Singer Ever

Morrissey was great, he was lovely, he was fabulous. He sang favorite old songs (THE MORE YOU IGNORE ME, THE CLOSER I GET) favorite new ones (THE WORLD IS FULL OF CRASHING BORES - and, yes, I cried a little. But only a little!) and all time classics (THERE IS A LIGHT AND IT NEVER GOES OUT - then I cried again. Yeah, I'm a baby. What of it?)

His stage was very Rockstar Fabulous and I wouldn't expect less, really. MORRISSEY spelled out in big white letters with red lights all around each letter. My favorite part of the lights was when they lit up and he had a red shirt on and sang HOW SOON IS NOW? Ooo, I just had a movie moment! Perfection and beauty and everything coming together to be so beautiful. I want letters that spell out my name. The lights will be pink. I will put them in the middle of my room and dance around them like a princess. I think there will be scarfs and tutus involved.

The only weird/downer/"whatever" part of the show was the opening act, The Saddest Singer Ever. He stood alone (all alone! He's sad! He's lonely! Let him sing you a song!) on the stage with a guitar and a mike, singing (well, kind of yelling. Loud warbling, really) about crack and smack and Irish depression. Fun! His song GHOSTS OF THE OVERDOSES (for reals, yo) including one line about ghosts of overdoses and "ghosts of tuberculosis". Oh my. Every song had a introduction such as "I like to sing to inspire children because they are the future, and they need encouragement and so do we because when we have encouragement we open up like flowers". Um. Okay. If you say so, Saddest Singer Ever. After the Spooky Overdoser song he made a brief comment about how he would play a happy song before we all hung ourselves from the rafters. Then he took a breath, held up his hand and said, "this is an Irish Claddaugh ring. Hundreds of these were found in the wreckage of the World Trade Center after 9/11..."

Well, that's CHEERY! Thanks for PERKING ME UP! I don't want to hang myself AT ALL NOW! No, I just want to JUMP TO MY DEATH from this here balcony. Thanks, Saddest Singer Ever! Sweet baby Jesus. Then he went right into a song about New York called APPLE OF MY EYE.

What was that noise?




I am not sure what the opposite of "An Ovary Wails" would be, but I think this guy was it. "A Testicle Sings" doesn't really do it, b/c I get a visual and it involves a little top hat and that is just WRONG. Anyway, he was loud and sad and Irish. I have a feeling he probably got drunk after the show and cried and called his mom. At least he got to listen to Morrissey and feel like he is not alone in the world. Ah, sad boys. You have a voice! Wail it!

This world is full, Oh oh, So full of crashing bores, And I must be one 'Cos no one ever turns to me to say Take me in your arms Take me in your arms and love me
And love me


Monday, October 04, 2004

365 birthdays

Oh, and meant to say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HEATHER!

Her birthday was Saturday and I was gonna call her but then I slept until 11:30 and then I knew she was working at night and then I was gonna call yesterday but it was Sunday, and sometimes people don't like to hear the phone on Sunday and yadda yadda yadda, I missed her birthday. So, Happy 27, Miss Fabulous! I hope it rocks, I am glad you are my neighbor once again.

I should probably say Happy Birthday to everyone right now b/c in the next two months there are like 12 birthdays and I can't keep up. So, Happy Birthday Martin, Mariah, Mike, Danny, Bob, Sarah, Kristin, Jack, John, Big Elaine, Chris, and Ned! Oh, and the birthdays I missed in August and September (Balboni, Susan, Nancy, Brennan) - happy belated from me! I'm a loser! I still love you though!

Having a blog is great. I can cover my ass for all the future and past birthdays of my family and friends EVER and for THE REST OF MY LIFE! I'll never have to buy stamps again! Praise the Lord!


you're not right in the head, and nor am I...

It's Monday again. They just keep rolling around, don't they?

I had jury duty this morning which generally makes people go "UGH" at the very thought, but it was okay. I got to stop at Starbucks and then go sit in a room and read my book for two hours. I think phasing in my day every morning would be nice. Have two hours to sit still in a room reading a good book and drinking a delicious Vente Latte. Life could be worse.

When the judge explained that we were there for a grand jury (meaning you serve for three months and decide if cases go to trial, etc. You never get to say "GUILTY!" or "INNOCENT!" you only get to say "potentially..." and then they go on to face the "jury of their peers" and all that balhooey) I started to get nervous. Three months! In a courthouse! With no Internet! Ack. I know I just said I don't like admin and I am tired of it and blah blah blah, but I realize I am very lucky. I am able to do all this OTHER stuff on the company dime (shhh) and do it from a comfy office with Morrissey serenading me from my tiny speakers all the while. It's pretty okay. And it is a nice cushion while I try to decide what to do NEXT.

I explained to the judge that I was a contractor and, yes, (thank God) I make more than $50 a day, and she let me go. The bailiff (is a woman called a bailiff too? I think so) said "see you in three years!" as I left the courtroom and took my book and coffee with me, passing the poor folks who weren't as lucky as me. Three months in a little room with strangers, no thanks! I would rather type here and send this out into the void to OTHER strangers. Hey, at least I can't see you. Pick your nose if you want, I don't care!

Tonight, Mug and I go to see Morrissey. I am very excited. I am sure the show will be filled with emo-boys wearing black and looking depressed and let down by life, but Mug and I will fill it with our shiny brightness and our love of music that is good and meaningful. I can't describe how much I LOVE (love LOOOOVE!) you are the quarry - it has been on repeat basically all summer (except for the times I was playing Franz Ferdinand) and I know every breath by heart now. There is a point in The World is Full of Crashing Bores (the moment at 3:18 into the song) where it reaches crescendo and I get goosebumps EVERY TIME. I know if he sings it tonight, I won't be able to NOT cry. Like how I cried both times I heard Liz Phair sing "Perfect World" and Elvis Costello sing "I Want You" and the list goes on and on. What is about music? can't really say and I guess that is the point, I'm not sure I could ever put in words what it means to my life, and I am not sure I want too. It's just perfect the way it is.

"no one I ever knew or have spoken to resembles you,
this is good or bad all depending on my general mood,
why do you think I get away with all the things you say to me?
Could it be I like you?"

because I said so