Tales from a lobster..

Sigh..its happened again.
I foolishly left the apartment with out my armor on, and the great shining ball of gas has attacked me unprovoked. Perhaps she simply did not like my gumption. My foolhardy defiance to her obviously greater power. As I sat on a beautiful June day surrounded by my friends, delicious BBQ, savoring the wonder that is cheezy-poofs, I was unwittingly being burnt by that yellow goddess. Although the thought of applying chemical protection did cross through my mind, not once, but a few times, I was loathe to be "that girl". Perhaps if my friends were a bunch of Irish Catholics, but alas, they consist of a Filipino, a Mexican, and Hawaiian, and hmmm...Jon? Chrissy?Kasey? Where is your attack from the sun? Sigh. This is how I know it is a personal feud between the sun and I.
I find solace in knowing that Corey was not spared. Perhaps the sun has been angered by my attempt at happiness and is trying to alter Corey's DNA by her radiating light waves. You think you know pink burns, but do you know purple burns? That awe-inspiring shade of red that is so dark it looks purple in most lights. The color that tells you that the sun has intimately penetrated deep in your skin without so much as a kiss. Actually, she has given me the kiss of death, this time. Here is my list of the worst places to be burnt, pain wise
1. Lips. And shes done it again
2. The part in your hair. Trying brushing your hair then!
3. The tops of your feet. Always itch and no shoe is comfortable
4. Butt.

Thankfully I never leave the bathroom without covering my face in chemicals, so while my face will remain youthful and wrinkle-free my shoulders and chest will be age spotted, wrinkly, and droopy. Just promise not to stare.

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The Day of Rest

For the rest of you maybe. Me, I'm at work. and it was such a beautiful day. worse part is...well, I actually dont know how bad it is, but theres no windows where I work. Would I be more depressed about being stuck at work if I could actually see how beautiful the day was outside? Or would I be happier not seeing the day, and subscribe to the "out of sight out of mind" school of thought?
I do know this: My new co-worker sucks. Not because she actually sucks, but because she works part time iun the military, and has "Drill wekends" which means someone has to fill in for her ont hsoe days. Step in your faithful Suuperfudge to fill in the hole. Normally, this wouldnt be so bad, But the dude I have to work with is an ass. He is wound entirley too tight for a job where most of our time is spent watching movies duringt he weekend. My Job is not unlike Homer simpson and George Jetson... Its that easy. Yet, this dude cant handle the minute stress involved. sitting withthe guy for eight hours a day is stupid. normally I dont have to work with the dude, but like I said, someone has to work if she doesnt. You can catch her blog here:
http://crazygirlcity.blogspot.com/ she's pretty cool, and keeps it pretty current.

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There's Nothing Like a Pride Parade to Make You Feel Homosexual.

I don't know the feeling that overcomes all those in the general vicinity of the parade but apparently it's infectious. There is just this good vibe beeing transmitted and like a helpless radio you have no choice but to receive and shout out "HAPPY PRIDE!" which afterwards you look around and wonder what just happened. I tell you it's like mind control.

Is there a gay Charles Xavier compelling the people to be more gay than they are? Was there a steroid needle beeing passed around that boost one's gayness and make them super? Perhaps. I can only present you this evidence. Is that Wonder Woman I see? Like Corey said "There's nothing like a Pride Parade the make you feel homosexual" Every mild mannered gay men were turned supergay (and to a lesser degree, a slightly less mild mannered gay guy).

At the end though, when the last escorting police car passed by, the proverbial feel of kyrptonite was felt pass through the throng. Everyone knew the parade was over and they were back to their regular gay life. But there's always next year.

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Dollar Taco

The Dollar Taco. How can you resist? Here are some of our friends enjoying and apparently finishing their food. The taco had no chance! I believe we got a total of 28 of the sweet sweet manna - a blessing indeed.

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It didnt end

OK, so the billboards for the re-release of "The Omen" are all 6-6-06, with upside down crosses for the dashes. There were all kinds of conversations about the end of the world and armageddon, ragnarok, or whatever. I decided it was a good day to get on a plane. I flew out of LAX from gate A13. I sat in row 13. I sat next to a little girl with a pillow shaped like a black cat. The cab I got in was yellow cab number 0666. When I got out of the car, a black cat crossed my path. The world is still here. Sadly, I was hoping for a little of the armageddon. I wouldnt have had to come to work today. but alas, we're all here still, and I'm working mad hours. I hate my boss, so i suppose I'm part of a tradition of the American Work force who cant stand their supervisors.
In other news...I've got a rad girlfriend with red hair which only propegates my belief that my life seems to follow that of Charlie Brown more and more. Love you Ramona Quimby, age 8.

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Tales from the Brink of Alcohol poisoning

I was somewhere between Hell and Arlington Virginia on a Thursday when it started. I didn't foresee it at that point, but I was about to experience a most transcendant journey down a lonely road of alcohol. What's more, though it be a lonely road, I would not be alone. That my friend is where it only begins to get sketchy.
Understand this before you continue. This is in fact, on the surface a very drunken episode yet again experienced by yours truly. But you must harden not your hearts to the true fact that lies beneath the story. This in fact was a journey down a dangerous path to transendance. Transendance, nay, but definitley an epiphany of sorts. I have taken this path for you all because I love you, and will from here out be my legacy to the world.
Thursday night as just another happy hour, although it was qa happy hour with some new friends of mine. We had joined a kickball league earlier in the year and this was the last happy hour before our game on Sunday. we met in Arlingotn to discuss stragety and refresh ourselves from a long hard week in cubeland at the hands of THE MAN. I intended to keep it light because it was in fact a weekday, and while I have no qualms upon drinking during the week, we kept it light. I had a mere four beers. It was like priming a pump for the gushing water of a great Falls. and there the descent began. In Arlington.
The next day was a LOOOOOONG day at the grind, but the fact that we were all meeting up for a spring training baseball game, made it longer. I made it down to Dizzle's house and started drinkin', it's what I do. We Metro'd up to L'Enfant plaza to switch to the orange an blue line to take it to the stadium. this of course woul dbe my last chance at forgiveness, sobriety, and my own blessed sanity. It was not to be.
From there the spiral began to spin faster thean the spiraling ramps of RFK. I was looking for food, but it was all hot dogs. It was a friday in lent and I was looking for something in a Nacho. I settled upon a very mustardy pretzel to hold me over. This of course would not nearly be enough to fight the alcohol back. The game i briefly remember with shouts of joy, disgust and despair. upon reflection, I see now that it was only a metaphor for the battle that was raging inside me. One side pushing me into the breach, the other trying to pull me back from my own unwitting destruction.
I awoke sometime around noon on saturday. I was in Dizzle's house again and my head hurt. DJ nick and I went to MC's for some recovery food. I swallowed down a Quarter pounder in less than five seconds. the fries took less time. the Coke practically poured down my gullet. I drank water to recover. 'Twas in vain. by 8 pm i was drinkin again at Encyclopedia red's house party. there was a kegger of yuengling, which by the way, if you have never had... you havent had beer. I started with that. Unfortuantely, it got worse the amount of hard alochol there was Outstanding, it took a mere 20 mins for Dizzle to crank it up a notch.
The starry night is a concotion of pure syrupy goodness. Goldschlager and Jager. Peppermint and licorice all in one. it was sweet nectar to me. Fromt here on out, it was martinis, and shots. i had one Corona. I think. It was all so confusing. When i woke up it was 11 o clock. but i forgot about the itme change.
I was at ramona Quimby's house when I came to. I was afraid at first not knowing where I was at first, but the familiartiy came slowly back. tge big game was at 4-ish, but we were to be there by three thriy. we were late. but we made it. mroe to come

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