Come over to the dark side... we have cake.

Things are kind of bleak.

I'm in some kind of funk lately. My joblessness has affected me more than I thought it ever would. I'm stuck in daydreams and thoughts of running away from my current responsibilities and finding a life. Running away with the circus. Teaching surfing lesson to tourists on the south shore.

I just feel like my life was going so well. I bought my beautiful house, I met the man of my dreams, I was young and beautiful with a great job and a well mannered cat. And it all crumbled into the fire within months. (well, except my fella... he just keeps getting better and better)

I am overcome by feelings of hopelessness and despair at times. (Geez, I sound like one of those prescription commercials...) I know it's just a phase, a dark shadow that will be overrun by the sun soon enough. But still...

I need something, I just don't know what it is.

ps - The cake is a lie.

Corporate Daydream

I had a dream.

I daydream of being on a carousel, going round and round as the sunshine blinks at me. I’m all alone and the music is soft and old fashioned. I close my eyes and I wake up in a field. It’s warm and cotton floats in the air.

The wild flowers carpet the field that just goes on and on. I walk and walk. I come across fruit trees that turn into a forest. Nut trees, avocados, pineapple patches. The light grows dimmer and speckled on the forest flower and the air cools. I gather baskets full of almonds, oranges, vanilla beans, chocolate bars, bowls of noodles with chopsticks, and ice cream cones. The baskets are full but not heavy. The deer don’t mind me at all.

The forest ends and the sun is born again, warming my skin, keeping the tamales hot in the leather pouch they’re in. This new valley past the trees is surrounded by snow capped mountains miles out in either direction, creating a fortress, a castle that was all mine, no one could enter. As I continue to walk with my baskets between the giant arms of either range, I can see a thin pillar of smoke rising straight up into the calm blue sky. As I move closer, I see a stone stacked cabin with two smoke stacks and a small garden off to the right. I open the gate to the courtyard and put my baskets down on the front step. I almost knock on the door when I see a note tacked in front of the knocker. “Welcome. It’s yours. Take good care of us.” I enter slowly.

There is a large overstuffed sofa by the crackling fire place, where three large pillows are placed on the floor. There is a bookshelf full of books, new and old, and little curiosities tucked throughout. A record cabinet sets across from the fireplace, full of different music from jazz to pop. The kitchen is small and warm, a breeze moving through the window over the sink. I put my fruit and ice cream away in the ice box and take my leather pouch of tamales to the fire, take “Peter Pan” off the shelf and curl up on the pillows. The wind starts to grow colder and I close the windows and venture upstairs. There is a curtain in the single room to hide the soaking tub and changing area. The bed has two down comforters and six pillows. I light the fire in the room, turn the water on in the tub and lay my tired body into the steamy water that goes up to my neck. As I dry off and slip into my long white pajama gown, it begins to snow in the valley.

As I drift off, Peter flying in soft circles above the house keeping guard, I know that it’s possible that I won’t wake up here in the morning but that it was worth the risk.

Crazy.

I am crazy for you.

And I think you know what I mean. Not Joaquin Phoenix or Margo Kidder kind of crazy. More like the Marquis de Sade. No wait, bad example. Like Debra Carr. So happy, so incandescent in her joy that she can't help but burst into song, dancing, twirling around the living room with Yule Brena. But where does the music come from? How does everyone know the words? Maybe they're not even there, maybe there is no music...

So when we start dancing and singing and the little blue birds encircle us and the little furry woodland creatures shyly venture out of the forest to greet us, they will come in their crisp white coats and padded wagon to take us away. Together.

But don't cry for us, Argentina. The truth is we never left you. No wall can hold us back and our happiness is like sunshine through the cracks and falling parts. In our matching pajamas, hand in hand, we will skip down to the main gate, tossing over our shoulders the homemade sticks of dynamite we made during arts and crafts time in the sunshine room. The armed guards stead themselves for a fight. They are blinded by a cloud of carnage. Out flies a ninja star, a rubber chicken, a bumper to a 1974 Cheraco. Shooting from the chaos, a photon particle beam nearly misses your head. Grown men cry out for the mommies, running out to the horizon in nothing but their BVDs. Finally, with a war cry that would make a grown man wet his underoos, a Care Bear stare takes out the remaining, whiting out the landscape for a few moments with it's brilliant rainbow, strawberry scented light. The mushroom cloud clears and we emerge from the smoke and dust unblemished, stepping over the piles of unconscience men. And I'll kiss you and say, "I love you", as we ride off into the sunset.

So this is love....

You don't want to forget this.

The way you feel right now. The way that you can't wait to see him. The way you ache when you miss him. The way you just sit and think about how happy you are. Right now.

Never take these moments for granted. This beginning stage where everything is wonderful. You are Cinderella and he is Prince Charming. Little blue birds sew your ball gown and you sing to the mice and they sing right back. There is good and bad and black and white and you are glowing sunshine.

When he forgets your birthday, remember the first time he said he loved you. When he keeps doing that annoying thing you used to think was so cute, remember dancing in your living room to Nat King Cole on the record player while dinner burned in the kitchen. When you have your first knock down, drag out fight, remember that the first present he brought you was canvases so you could paint to your hearts desire.

Now some say that this right here isn't true love. "True love" is not getting divorce after he goes to Vegas with his friends on your anniversary. It's holding her hair back while she puking pepperoni pizza and beer. It's getting up at 4am to feed the baby, even though you have to go to work in 2 hours, so he can sleep a little bit longer. I agree fully, but this too is love.

This shiny, happy moment is gone before you know it. There is more to come, but just don't forget this. It can keep you through the lean times and move you through. Don't ever forget.

I AM NOT DEAD.

No, I'm just unemployed.

So maybe leaving my consulting career was not the best plan. It seems that I timed it perfectly with the economy dropping out...

I've been on about a 50+ interviews and even nailed a few, only to have them offer me a 40% pay cut, to which I would kindly and respectfully tell them to go passionately fuck themselves.

I have been investing well for the past 10 years so I'm not hurting for money, but a girl can't just sit around all day. So everyday I wake up and hit the streets in my stilletos in hope of... well, hope I guess.

I promise to be more diligent in my updating, but may have to restrict it just to weekends though.

Good luck America. I'm right there with you.

The Perfect Sountrack

There are very rare moments that are perfect.

I admit, I am a bit of a perfectionist. I like things leveled, unless it's supposed to be off kilter, then I want it to be perfectly off kilter. Life is not perfect. It's messy and complicated and things never seem to play out the way you want. But there are times when things seem to fall into place, even down to the sountrack of your life.

I was sailing with a small crew around the island of Kauai. The Northwest side is only accessible

The Na Pali Coast

by water because of the cliffs, hills, water and other natural occurrences. The day was cloudy and dreary but perfect for picture taking. The mist clung to the sides of the mossy cliffs as we lounged on the 'trampolines' in the front of the boat. Lunch was served to us, the traditional hawaiian fair: roasted pig, fresh fruit, juice. All incredibly good, especially for just a 5 hour tour. The spinner dolphins were jumping around the boat and playing with a baby whale and it's mother a few hundred feet out. We had yet to reach the top of the island when the weather took a turn for the worse. The dolphins disappeared and the whales headed out to sea. Not a good sign.

The waves suddenly became bigger and chop was getting worse and worse. The storm was coming up on us and fast. The captain decided to cut our trip a little short to get us back before the lightening caught up with us. Thus began a perfect moment. While some of the other guests scurried inside to stay warm and dry, my friends and I clamped down and held on for dear life in the front portion of the boat. The boat was going full speed, hitting the breaks hard, the spray flying up and hitting us in the face. And suddenly, over the loud speakers, of all things, came a Hans Zimmer track straight from "Pirates". We all bounced around, yelling and screaming at the top of our lungs, laughing until we choked on sea water, the crew running up and down the boat and getting soaked to the bone.

It was perfect.

Fired... out of a cannon into the sun.

My father was fired today.

I'm in a state of shock.

This business was ours, the family's business. But after my brother died, my father couldn't do it anymore. There was too much to do and he just couldn't care anymore. So he sold it and all of us continued to work for the new boss. (I was working part time, whenever my job allowed me to come in and lend a hand) But now, a little over a year after the business was sold, I'm the last one standing.

It truly breaks my heart. This store was ours. I've slept here. I've cried here. We've had family dinners and meetings, brokered million dollar deals and done cartwheels down the halls. And now there is no sign of us anywhere. Nothing belongs to us anymore. It's like we never existed here. And once again, my brother's desk is empty.

I'll be updating my resume this week. I think it's time to make a change and this was a huge sign/slap to the fucking face. I'm moving my consulting to part time by August and will be moving forward with a new career ASAP.

This ship is sinking and I'm headed for the shore.

Love is the best drag

Good golly I love me some drag queens!

Perhaps it's their hyper femininity or the fact that men make better women than women do but

Divine indeed.

I just freakin love them!

There was Divine, actor, singer, fabulous person all around. You may remember her playing Tracy's mom in Hairspray. (Don't even talk to me about that hidious remake of the musical.)
RuPaul, who strangely played my favorite she did out of drag, as a councilor at a gay-to-straight

Gorgeous...

camp in "But I'm A Cheerleader". And who can forget Philip Seymour Hoffman's portrayal in "Flawless"? Well, I don't think anyone saw that movie but me, but it's a classic.

I think I was one in a past life. The outrageous hair, makeup, attitude. They can dare to be as fabulous as they please without a care in the world about what others might think. That is what I truely admire about drag queens. The confidence in their knowledge that they are the greatest thing since the stiletto.

We should all strive for that level of confidence.

I no longer fear the love song

The coolest

Something inside me has changed.

That empty sad thing is faded. I have listened to a love song and not thrown my laptop out the window. It's a miracle! Long live the love song!

PS-feeling much better; the Koala Flu has subsided!

Still assed out...

Cough, hack, cough

I'm still down and out with this flu.

I'm coming home early from DC so I can get some rest and try to kick this thing. Or at least stop coughing up alien babies. Yuck.

Have a good weekend my chickadees!

Sick as a pig

Damn swine flu.

I would like to refer to it as Koala flu from now on. Much cuter. More attractive sounding.

Stopped up, achy, icky, and all the other accoutrement. Lucky me.

More later, gonna go eat spicy food and sit in the sauna to loosen things up.

Man of Mystery

Here he is.

In Italy a few years ago.

Perfect for being a bit mysterious myself, don't you think?

My Dream Jeopardy Categories

I suck at this show.

I never know the answers and even if I do, I always forget to put the answer in the form of a question. Or my buzzer gets stuck. Or the guy next to me kicks me.

So if I could hand pick my categories, these would be the ones.

Sentences that start with "Hey you!"
Swear words
Video and Film Editing
Tastes like Chicken
I scream, you scream, we all scream, "It's OJ! Run bitches!"
Business
Bongs, Dongs and Thongs
FAA Airline Traveler Regulations
Puppies!
Euphemisms for your genitalia
Ways NOT to impress Jodi Foster
Thanks for the Mammories: Real or fake

What are yours?

Essembly days makes me nervous.

Good morning Northside Elementary.

This is Mrs. Bouldus's 4th grade class and the title of my essay is: Things I am grateful for by Ms. Celluloid Thelma Darling.

*clears throat, awkwardly pulls at dress*

People seem to be angry a lot. Traffic, jobs they don't like, their boss who yells a lot.

So I am here to remind everyone of the little everyday things that are good.

• Popping a really juicy pimple
• The sound of ice breaking when you pour coke over it.
• Eating a cookie, even though your mom said no cookies before dinner. Those cookies somehow taste better...
• Open fields, cause they're perfect for a picnic, red rover, a walk, cartwheels or just feeling the wind go through the little holes between the thread in your clothes and touch your skin.
• When you let someone into your lane and they wave a little 'thank you' wave.
• Pee-Wee's playhouse, cause who doesn't want a talking Pterodactyl and personal genie?
• 
• When you have to pee really really bad and you finally make it to a bathroom and the bathroom is clean and quiet. That's awesome.
• Making your own ice cream. I once made purple mint ice cream with banana bits in it. It tasted good.
• Watching your favorite movies and daytime TV when you're home sick.
• When that perfect song is playing at the perfect moment in life... now this is a rare one. It's your favorite romantic song while slow dancing or that inspiration song comes over the loud speakers during the last game of the season.
• After several attempts, making the perfect roasted marshmallow
• The sound of fajitas on a hot plate
• When someone says, "I love you" and you know they really mean it
• When you go to the restroom and by the time you come back, you waitress has brought your food, like they somehow knew when you were leaving and coming back.
• Slow dancing with your husband in the living room
• When a baby wraps it's tiny hand around your finger
• For no reason
• Having such a good time you don't realize it's already past midnight
• When you mom or dad picks you up in the middle of the school day just to hang out, go shopping, get ice cream and/or see a movie.
• When the hot guy with the mohawk at the liquor store smiled at you
• Stepping into a bucket of beans barefoot without getting thrown out of the farmers market
• Falling asleep on the couch and having someone walk you to bed and tuck you in
• Making someone happy and then watching them when they don't know you're looking
• Ice cream, for no reason
• The sound that a bunch of colored pencils make then the rattle around in a bin
• Showering after a long flight
• When you and your friend know all the words to the same awesome song and sing it loud and off key
• Dogs
• When you pull up to a meter and there's still time in it
• Falling in love with a dress, deciding to buy it even though you can't afford it, then they ring it up on sale! 40% off!
• When you know the answers to a tv games show and then you feel like the smartest person alive

This concludes my essay. I hope you liked it. I think I might make it a two-parter. Thank you and have a good day. Oh! And Principal Thomas says tomorrow, we are having chicken instead of meat loaf. Thanks.

*Bows and then trips over a shoelace and falls off the stage*

I'm okay!

Room 502

Would you stay here?

For how many nights? One? Maybe two? How about for the rest of your short life? Bwa ha ha ha!!

Ok, dramatic but here's the deal.

This is Waverly Hill Sanatorium in Louisville, Ky. It is considered one of the most haunted places in the states. Opened in1910, it was built to house the steep rise in tuberculosis patients. It soon became overcrowded as the disease spread and another hospital was built.

Some of the treatments seem barbaric by today's standards, while others are still used today. Desperate times... Patients were placed in front of open windows, no matter the weather. (yes, it snows in Kentucky.) Balloons were placed inside lungs and expanded to 'let more oxygen in'.

And then there is the 'body chute'. I'll let you ponder that one for a while. Ok, it's actually much less scary than it sounds. The doctors believed that the sight of wheeling out body after body of those dying from TB would be a real bummer so a tunnel was built to take them away in a more discreet manner. It's not like a laundry chute where you just dump a body after you torture it to death, which is the first thing that came to my sick little brain. It also kept the staff from freezing their butts off in the winter commuting back and forth.

Like many institutions of the day, when TB was squashed by advances in medicine, there were less and less patients and the building began to fall into disrepair. The hospital closed and the building sat there to rot.

Then this happy, sunshiny place was going to be turned into a prison, until the developer ran out of money. Then a christian company bought it and wanted to build the largest statue of Christ EVER on the top of the hill. That didn't pan out either. Finally, the building is being restored by it's new owners and it now lives on as a destination for ghost hunters and thrill seekers. You can sign up for an overnight and wander the ground (for a fee) and scare the crap out of yourself.

And you too can tour the body chute and hang out in room 502. What's so special about room 502 you ask? According to spooky ledgend, a nurse ended her life in that room. It's said she was pregnant with the child of a married doctor who worked in the hospital. She supposedly was part of a abortion that did not go well, then hung herself from the pipes. (Other legends say she jumped from the window.) No matter that the pipes weren't installed until much later or there are no reports or articles about a suicide. Still, creepy story.

It's a very creepy place but I think there are probably scarier places out there. Old abandoned insane asylums, prisons, and other facilities where people were kept.

A friend of mine once told me that every spirit she had ever encountered in her paranormal investigation business was 'good'. (She even did a walk through Colombine High School one night) But after pressing her some more, she said that there was one place, where she would never go back. The things she felt were anger, fear, pain and rage of the people left behind. But that's another story. I don't think this place warrants that kind of fear.

We just love to scare the shit out of ourselves, in any way.

http://www.therealwaverlyhills.com/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpv9MLkogBI

The thing that won't die

I'm ready to throw something across the room.

Anything. Especially if it will make a satisfying noise when it breaks.

It's been over 3 months since the asshole murdered my car and over 1 month since the other asshole hurt my new car and I have yet to see a freaking penny from either aforementioned asshole.

I called the DA about the hit and run and he said that he did plead guilty (the lucky bastard

stuck a deal for just community service) and now there will be a hearing about compensation that I must attend. Great. So I miss another day of work. Love that. Then he has to agree on compensation and if he gets all uppity and thinks my medical bills are too much, then we go to trial. Cross your fingers.

Then I called my insurance to ask about my other accident, about my new car. They have seemed to forgot about me. They apparently called the red neck's insurance THREE WHOLE TIMES but they have yet to call back. So into subjugation it goes. Well I'm glad they've been so on top of things. Must have been stressful to leave a message with the red neck's insurance less than once a week for the past month.

So I'm sitting here, minus a thousand dollars just in deductible fees, and no one seems to be able to help me get back what's mine. So I guess it's gonna be me.

Excuse me, I have to go get some law books, hire a new, nut-cracking lawyer and give some fair warning to my insurance company, who I will be dropping due to their lack of service and skill.

And maybe I'll buy a flame thrower. Just in case none of that stuff works.

PANIC!

Overkill or new fashion trend?

It's a serious issue.

People are dying.

But I will not be forced to panic, to be pushed into a fearful rant because of the Swine Flu. (or the Mexico flu, to be politically correct to my Israeli friends... which is just dumb. Swine = bad... Flu = bad. Swine Flu = double bad. Not offensive to the Jews! I don't understand...)

The news, bloggers and neighbors alike are flipping out, trying to get me to flip out. Not. Gonna. Do. It.

Epidemic, by defination, yes. Pandemic... not yet my wildly panicking friends. People are talking about the black plague, yellow fever, small pox. Wow.

Come and talk to me in 3 months and lets see where it is then. Then we can talk about a pandemic.

AIDS effect every single person in certain African countries, whether it be having it, a parent, child or sibling having it or a friend having it. In Botswana, almost 1 in 4 have AIDS. (Check the CDC's website for more info) Over a million people, mostly children, die of malaria every year. There is some awful crap out there.... Be grateful for your health, take a deep breath and don't freak out. Thanks.

Oh yeah, and wash your hands.

If you really do want to know, go here- http://doihaveswineflu.org/

The New Guy

I've been seeing The Mad Scientist for about 2 months now.

I went back to my list (see March 2nd blog) to see how he stacks up. It's scary. I think I may have got what I asked for.

So he was helping me cook dinner and I looked at him and thought about what exactly would we fight about. What would he do to hurt me? What will I do to disappoint him? What is it that will bug the crap out of us about each other?

We made love (I hate that expression but it's really the best words for it) and it was again, amazing. Mind blowing. Beautiful. So not creepy, awkward or gross like it has been with others. He held me, kissed my face, told me I was beautiful, and that little mean voice inside of me didn't jolt up and scream "Nah uh!". (Titus calls in your inner retard...) Afterward, as I was laying there, trying to think of something not stupid to say, I realized that I really felt something for this person. It was more than just having fun and getting along and laughing together. More than his great body, cool career, positive attitude or kindness toward

s me. More than him always trying to pay for our dates, that he doesn't mind staying in to cook and watch a movie or the way he holds me.There was something else brewing.

I didn't think of anything to say.

I have fear. Fear that he doesn't feel the same way. But that's what this is all about. I have to jump head first. He's worth that. I may get broken again but this one seems worthy of a break if need be.

I'll keep you posted.

Oooo... preeeeetty

I don't really have anything to say about Paris or anything; I just liked this photo, taken by a good friend of mine. I love the glow-y street lights. Makes me want to go back and wander around Paris at night. (with a gun taped to my back and a taser in my purse, but still...)

Just thought I would share it with you.

Girl porn...

One of my best and oldest friends recently wrote an article about the idea of the "Magic Man" and it really got me thinking...

Does any man stand a chance?

Our "porn" is something so much different that what men watch. We read books, watch TV and movies and fall in love with characters that speak to our heart first then we are physically

watch those hands mister

attracted to them later. (usually, not always. Sometimes, it's the other way around. Hello Drover from 'Australia'...) Like Erin mentioned, Edward Scissorhands was one of her first fictional crushes. Shy, deeply kind and sweet. Thoughtful. Beautiful. For me, my first crush was Wolverine. Brooding, loyal, fierce. Women would throw themselves at him but he stayed true. The prince battles the brambles and giant evil dragon to kiss Aurora. Rhett drives through a city ablaze to keep Scarlett and the other safe. Devlin uses all his cunning to get Alicia out of the clutches of the Nazis. I even fell in love with the portly Albert (Kevin James) when I stood up to a board of old codgers for his lady love.

But then you take all that then consider, does any woman stand a chance?

The plastic dolls with the surprised look on their faces seem to be no match for our curves, stray hairs and other 'imperfections'. Sure, we can have some elective surgery done. New boobs. Bigger lips. Lipo here,

here and here. And buy up all the shoes with clear, acrylic heels. There. You are now a real life pleasure doll. As for your attitude adjustment... You must be bold, attentive and if I know my rap songs, "a lady on the street and a freak in the bed". This is what many, many guys watch for their own gratification. And honestly, it's not completely unattainable. Do I want to be that? Hell to the no. But it's possible.

But if we turn the tables again, men are screwed. They can't fly, do magic, or beat up our harassers without a busted nose and a week in county. Heck, most my old boyfriends couldn't even cook.

So here's my moral to the story. We suburban mortals can't be Superman or Jenna Jamison. (And thank GOD!) As much as we want a sex kitten or a beautiful vampire, I'm not sure we would really want them once we had them. We will always want the magic man or the porno goddess but maybe there are more attainable characters out there.

There are fictional figures that are reachable. There are men that reach out from the pages of fiction who get us all swoony and sweaty. Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Arrogance turned to regret and redemption. Speaking his mind. Great love for his dear sister. Smoldering. I guess it's something to strive for...

Because in the end, we are princesses who want to be held, kissed, listened to and loved. We deserve a prince. You don't have to slay a dragon. Just tell us we look beautiful and listen about how our day was. And we will try to buy a push up bra. Deal?

1000 days til night

We are now under 1000 days until Armageddon.

Ok so maybe not.

2012 is (supposedly) the year we all die... or the sun explodes or all the nuclear bombs simultaneously explode or the poles reverse or something.

In late December, the Mayan calender finishes it's thirteenth cycle and many believe that this date (either the 21st or the 23rd depending on how you decipher the documents) is when the Mayans predicted the end of the world in one form or another. The date is written on many different walls and surviving representations and obviously it was important to the Mayans but end of the world?

So I'm sure you are as curious as I am... How will it all end? Well, the most popular answer seems to be that the world will reach it's tipping point. It can no longer sustain life after we have warmed, polluted and destroyed it so completely. This could mean another ice age or perhaps just a massive seizure that causes weather to flip out. Volcanoes erupts all over, hurricanes, tornadoes, boiling rivers, raining lizards, all that kind of biblical stuff. (and don't you just know some crazy asshole will stand up in the middle of the chaos and declare himself Jesus...) The sudden change in climate destroys crops all over the world and millions die of starvation. Those in already hot or cold climates die of exposure in their own homes.

Another theory is a little more cosmic and mystical. Some think the Mayans understood the universe WAY more than we do (alien conspiracy anyone?) and they knew about some kind of cosmic bitch slap headed our way. On Dec. 21st, it will be the winter solstice, that is true. But believers think it will begin a new age. It will be less explosions and death, and more of a new awakening and enlightenment of our entire race. (perhaps finally knowing of other life in the universe, ei-ET phoned home and now he's back bitches!)

But if you wanna get really scary, if you really wanna shit your pants, let's talk about Doomsday. Other theorist warn of global catastrophe. A third world war, global warming causes famine and drought that leads to plague and pandemics. Society will fall apart and it basically turns into Road Warrior, but hopefully with less Leather Daddys and more Tina Turner.

Then if you want to go all religious there is even more to fear. The earth cracks open and the four horseman pop up for a cuddle. This is Revelations people. First comes Pestilence, then War, Famine, then the forth seal will be broken and the last rises. "And I beheld, and lo a pale horse; and he that sat on him was called Death, and Hell followed with him."

And at the same time, Mayan scholars suggest that the date on the Mayan calender merely is the restart of the calender. Nothing more. You come to the end, then start up again.

There are many many theories. A large object, "Planet X", will pass so closely to us it will shift our poles and ending civilization as we know it. Solar flares go crazy, knocking out the worlds communication sending us into a tailspin of chaos. On that day, machines finally become aware and it's the beginning of the end for the human race. Science experiment goes horribly wrong and a horrible medicine resistant disease is released on the entire world. The ozone disappears and the radiation from the sun kills half of us while the other half mutate and adapt. I could go on and on.

My mother and I were discussing this the other day. She had this to say. Imagine yourself in Europe in the early 1300's. People were dropping like flies, not just in your town but all over the world. The priests and monks, men of G-d, those sworn to help the sick and dying, where all dead. Accusations fly back and forth: earthquakes, monsters, Jews poisoning wells, or simply G-d's wrath. Food became scarce when trading is cut off by the government to try and control the spread. War broke out in England, Scotland and France. Wouldn't you look around and think, "My word, the end is near!"? Over and over again in history, we see the world in dramatic situations. Hard times come in waves. But life goes on.

I don't assume to know anything about the universe. I have only what I believe. I believe everything will be ok. I don't know how or when or why. I don't know a thing. I believe that life always finds a way. And I follow life.

So take that, Nostradamus, and shove that up your pipe!

Happy Easter

And by that, I mean, what the fuck?

I don't get Easter. Yes, I understand that Christians celebrate the resurrection of Jesus after he died for the world's sins. It's a very important holiday for many religious people all over the world.

But how in holy hell did bunnies and baby chicks, pastels, and colored eggs have anything to do with that?

And who made up that a bunny would lay these colored eggs then hide them for little kids to find? And who said, "Make the eggs chocolate, filled with marshmallow!"

In other countries, they have Easter fires, they silence the church bells, skiing, watching murder mysteries on TV, spanking in public(thanks Czech Republic!), and the sprinkling of perfumed water.

I'm so confused!

Out for the count

I'm out of the office this week, working from home/on the go.
Have a great week everyone and see you on Monday.

Happy 100!

Welcome!

You have entered my 100th post! It seems just like yesterday my blog was just a little newling, tottling around with only a dozen posts. Just look at it now! It makes a mother so proud.

Happy birthday Dollhouse! Cheers, to a hundred more!

Much love,
Celluloid Darling

Not Impossible

They say it can't be done.

They say there is no way to get a good feel for the city in one week. They can suck it. I'm still going to try.

I'm planning my trip to London today and I feel like I've just scratched the surface. As far as basic places to visit and experience, this is what I've been told so far from family and friends:

St. Paul's Cathedral (due to my interest about the home front during WWII)
The London Eye (cause who doesn't like a giant ferris wheel?)

The Natural History Museum
Tower of London (it's morbid; what else is there?)
Buckingham Palace (so that I may flip off the Queen... or just wave. Whichever)
Houses of Parliament (V for Vendetta?)
The Shakespeare Globe Theater (and see a play, of course)
King's Cross (because I'm a giant dork)
London Zoo
Abby Road

Any other brilliant ideas?

ps-my face continues to fall off. Just so you know.

As punishment, my face is falling off

So I met someone.

We went out a couple of times and I didn't think he even liked me. Yet he kept calling me. And I kept saying yes. By the third date, had yet to even touch me, let alone kissed me.

Snog-rific!

By the middle of our delicious lamb chops, peppers and mushroom pasta(he cooked), sitting in his surprisingly lovely apartment, I was so confused. We have great conversations, barely any awkward silences, and he is very sweet and extra attentive and we do have a lot in common. I even gave him a cute nickname: The Mad Scientist. But I was still all up in my head about things.

Maybe this is too soon to get back into dating? Is this guy the kind of guy I should be dating? Does he show any signs of poor or dangerous behavior? Does he meet the requirement that I set up for myself? Do I even still believe that love is real? If I don't, why am I even here? Then I remember that I'm in this man's house and I'm on a date, focus!

As we got into a lively conversation about film, and I blabbered on and on about technique and movies that reminded me of other movies that reminded me of other movies, he started to rub my neck. (Innocent enough, since I had been complaining about it because of yet another accident I had been involved in...) And then he finally kissed me. A lot.

I got home at about 8 in the morning and after a quick shower I caught myself in the mirror. The snogging gods have punished with me stubble rash. I didn't realize that he was that stubbly! It's been about two days now and my nose, cheek, and all the skin around my lips are bright red and scaly. I looks like I'm been in a cherry pie eating contest. Like I'd been frenching Beelzebub. I'm like a sexy red lizard... or a not so sexy blogger. Whichever.

Like my face, except hotter. Meow.

I have been up and down the internet, digging through medical books and esthetician text books and can't find anything.  I was hoping to post, "What to do when you fall asleep on a belt sander" but sadly, I can be of no help. All I can do is say, good luck fellow snoggers. And my best advice? Ask him to shave.

Oh, and I will be seeing him again this week.

Sans the sandpaper.

As she screams, "Again?"

I am fed up, my friends.

While driving through a legal green turn arrow, some jackass forgot to brake and tboned my brand new car. And again, just like my last accident, this asshole wasn't driving his own car so the car's owner's insurance doesn't cover other drivers. What is the point of paying hundreds of dollars every month if when I get hit I STILL have to pay for the damage done by others? And why doesn't the insurance companies or the law make someone other than the victim pay?

And why can't my insurance company grow a set of giant, hairy, brass balls and go after these

people with everything they have! So far this year, uninsured or under insured drivers hitting me have cost my insurance company over $12,000! (and over $2000 out of pocket for me!) And it's only March! Get out there Mr. Claims-adjuster and brake some knee caps!

I am utterly helpless in this situation. All I can do is sit on my ass and wait for the insurance companies to go back and forth and debate policy terms and definitions of the word 'is' at a snail's pace.

So there goes another $500 and without a car for at least a week and I am praying that it won't be totaled. My brand new car that I've had for 2 months. That still has the new car smell. That is still clean on the inside. That I just put a new CD/DVD player in.

I am so very tempted to exact revenge on the people who keep hitting my car and get away with it. Subscribe them to every magazine I can find. Send them 16 pizzas with extra anchovies. Give out their names and numbers to telemarketers. Post ads in the paper for intimate encounters: only fat, sweaty and horny need apply... But I know my dirty deeds will come back around to bite me in the ass. So I'm stuck up here, on the high road, broke with no car.

Sometimes being the good girl is such a pain in my ass.

Blizzard watch!

Storm blowing in and I'm headed out for safety.
It is coming down like gang busters.
Perhaps a trip to some place toastier?

Needing a warmer climate anyway.

More soon; run for the hills!!

❤,
Pix