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May Day

Look at me all up 'n on May's busi-nass! I've gotten a head start on this month's skin and put up a new one today. Go on everyone, change the skin. Everybody's doin' it. Come on, you know you want to. Click here to get yerself up to speed with May's coolness. Won't even hurt a smidgen...

AND I'll treat you to a cookie after you're done, to go with your teeeeaaaa of course. Get it? Tea? Cuz, um... you know, in the picture. It's not coffee, it's tea. Cuz, I uh, love tea. Heh. Give me a break - if you know me that was a really funny joke!

I have a confession to make. Cover your children's eyes, I couldn't possibly stand the embarrassment.

I am *sigh* addicated to cribbage again. OH THE HORROR! OH THE SHAME! I'm what some people might call a manic-closet cribbagette. Loosely defined (by myself as):

With that said, I'm not playing cribbage any more tonight. Unless of course Debbie or Paul comes online. But I won't initiate. Only if they ask me, THEN I will play. Definitely, definitely won't ask. Definitely won't. No. Definitely won't ask to play.

My song: Beyond Life

It occurred to me that there's this song, "Beyond Life" by Dilba, that stealthilly™ found its way on to my computer in 1999 and hasn't left since. The ONLY song that can claim a 5 year life on my computer and still going strong. I don't even think of it as one of my favorite songs... I don't even know the lyrics to it! Five years everyone.

So I looked up the lyrics tonight. Scary, is all. This song is apparently the musical manifestation of sopheava.

Jag gör mig galen

Gah. I had this great post all planned out for tonight... and then it happened.

As the french say, "Vat is zees 'eat' you zpeak ov?"

Not only are Debbie and Paul feeding my addiction to cribbage... but I swear they're conspiring to get me commited to a psychiatric ward, where all I can manage to do everyday is drool on myself and play cribbage in the social lounge (Social Lounge 5, just in case you were wondering). Yup. Oh wait, cool. I guess that previous sentence makes me a conspiracy theorist. As the germen say, "Awesomeschlaagen! Hausen. Schnitzen." I'm a theorist!

Anyway... I played several games this afternoon with each of them, alternating, and won 6 in a row. Then I lost one game. ONE MISERABLE, LOUSY, STUPID, INSIGNIFICANT GAME by the skin of my tinny tin teeth.

Then I took a nap.

Then I played 4 person cribbage with Debbie and her friends.

*sobbing weakly* Which of course brings us to the very lame reason why I didn't write that awesome post I had planned. Instead you'll have to endure what the french call 'Le Lame Summarie' (hope this language switching isn't too confusing, I can't help it I'm multilingual; it's a curse more than a gift really). So here's my summary:

7:30 pm last night: heading over to Tim's house to feed his 3 beautiful cats. tim's in bloody california doing god only knows what. and i'm here... hey wait a second!...
7:31 pm: where in the hell is my wallet? g*d d*mn m*ther f*cking sh*t! i am a responsible woman. so responsible i never, ever lose anything. ANYTHING!
7:40 pm: after tearing house apart 3 times i decide to get the cat feeding thing out of the way and look for wallet later.
7:55 pm: holy bejeesies, i forgot how far st. paul is from my cozy apartment. are we there yet?
8:00 pm: wait a second, how come this key tim gave me doesn't work? ha ha, very funny. ah crap, it still doesn't work.
8:05 pm: no open windows, front door is locked. double sheizer. hey look, the key works now. sweeeeeeet.
8:07 pm: *in cute kitty voice* hiya claudie! who's a hungry, wungry kitten? that's you! that's you!
8:10 pm: (insert high pitched scream) EEEEEEEKKK!! why are there ANTS all over the f*cking floor?!
8:11 pm: (on the phone with tim's answering machine) "so tim, is this like, a um, you know, NEWish problem or have the ants always been there? call me back and you know, just let me know." yuck yuck yuck. hey wait a second, how am i going to buy ant poison when i don't even have my wallet? *happy place, happy place, happy place, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean*
8:15 pm: claudie and I hang out for a while. i make it very clear that streusel is my boyfriend but claude isn't having it. i don't fuss... i allow his purring and rubbing up against me to continue. i even broke out the brush, which made him absolutely crazy!
8:30 pm: on my way back to minneapolis. why can't i see my skyline yet? are we there yet?
9:00 pm: still can't find my bloody wallet. this is starting to get serious. oooh, i haven't watched 'The Thomas Crowne Affair' in a while... think i'll do that.
11:00 pm: hmmmm.... still no wallet. no activity on the cards either, i checked online. it's probably at work so i'll just stop by there tomorrow to pick it up. yeah, that's it.
11:30 pm: oooooh, i think i'll watch 'Love Actually' again. what a great movie... *sigh*
2:00 am: crap. it's getting kinda late... think i'll just go to zzz... zzzzzzzzzz.....
10:00 am: *mental note to self* wouldn't it be great to lounge around the house sunday morning? yes, it would. but i can't. have to find my entire, embarrassingly small, financial life all contained on a few pieces of plastic. perfect.
10:30 am: just off the phone with tim. turns out he's never seen ants in his house. ever. that's great. i'll just get right on top of that and take care of it. nothin' more i'd like to do on a sunday. woot.
11:00 am: i'm driving all 8 blocks to work to pick up my wallet. wait a second!!! how come there's not any parking spots?! WTF mate? who in the HELL comes downtown on a sunday morning and takes up all the g*d d*mned parking spots? oh right, church goers. sorry about that hell thing, you know. but that still doesn't change the fact i've been driving around for 10 minutes looking for a f*cking parking spot. oh wait, there's one. FIVE BLOCKS from my building. great.
11:30 am: yup, my wallet was at work. right where i left it. this has been an exhausting day already. think i'll get an xtra hot soy chai, medium please, from caribou.
11:45 am: FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! why aren't there any parking spots? all i want is a freagin' chai. please, for the love of all that's holy. 2 minutes to run in and get a chai people.
11:50 am: still no parking spot. FINE! i'll just DRIVE out to st. louis park to pick up the ant poison WITHOUT my tea. without any breakfast. isn't st. louis park in the OPPOSITE direction from st. paul you so keenly ask? that's right. as it turns out the only ant poison that works, terro, is not sold at any stores except for this one walgreens in st. louis park because the arsenic/sugar water it's made out of was being stolen from all the other stores that carried it. why? the better half of society was making methamphetamines from it. thanks for that guys. really. good to know high school chemistry was so valuable for ya.
12:10 pm: at a caribou in golden valley now, waiting in line. the girl behind the counter says, "here ya go, have a nice day!" i chipperly respond, 'thx, already am!" "np! ;-)," she quips. *shudders*
12:40 pm: arsenic in one hand, tea in the other. i'm all set to go! finally on my way to st. paul
2:00 pm: four hours later i'm finally home... aahhhhh, home.
2:30 pm: hey look, paul & debbie are online and want to play cribbage...

Easily amused

Every time I write "get it" or "got it", I giggle.

Because inevitably it always comes out: "ge tit" and "go tit".

Easily amused, order for 1.

A cry for help

It's apparent I'm spending a liiiiiiiiiittle too much time at my computer these days.

Yesterday Kharmen erased a bunch of information on the whiteboard, and promptly yelped, "Oops, I didn't mean to do that."

To which I replied, "It's ok. Just hit undo. Control-Z that shit and you're fine."

I'm going big time

I bet you'll never guess what I got to do today...

Our company is hosting a rather large and important User Conference sometime in the very near future. For this conference I was asked a mere week ago to just 'throw together a flash thing' that could be playing before all the keynotes speak.

Riiiiiight. Can you just hold on for one second... I need to, yup there it is. Just let me bend over and pull it out of my ass.

I know a few things about flash. And by 'a few things' I mean enough to edit existing flash and throw together some very, very lame presentations (I can animate text, make cars travel from point A to point B, and make wheels turn round and round, round and round, la la la). That said, this *would* have been a great excuse and the golden opportunity for me to finally gather up flash in my arms and lick it to death. Alternatively, I would learn it like a pro and make it be my bitch. The only glitch being the conference is in mere days.

So I did what any Libran Indigo would do. Yesterday I informed the business I would not be providing that service. And then I batted my eyes. And quickly offered them cookies.

Fast forward to today:

some-guy-that's-gorgeous-and-higher-ranking-than-me: Hey Mahhhhhgret, can you come in to this conference room for a mere minute?
me: There's nothing I'd like more.
sgtgahrtm: Are you being sarcastic? Anyway... what are the odds you could throw together something in powerpoint, and use it like a flash application?
me: You mean slap together some pictures and words, and fake a cool flash presentation with a shitty, clunky Microsoft product? Considerable to none.
sgtgahrtm: Great! Here's what I was thinking... *feverishing draws stick figures on whiteboard*
me: Riiiiiight. OR I could just piggyback off the website and corporate brochure, that way everything is consistent.
sgtgahrtm: GREAT WORK MARGARET! Let's have that done for Monday, k? Thanks much!
me: Shit.

Guess what I'll be doing tomorrow? To be fair, I made it very clear I would literally be THROWING something together. But for me that still means it will look totally professional and presentable, just not to the degree of what I'm capable of had I some time. And I mean whip. I've always wanted a reason to have a whip.

Lo... the life of a graphic designer. Whoever thinks this is a flashy job has obviously never had someone come to them and ask them to use Powerpoint like it's a several hundred dollar professional multimedia tool.

I present to you my carte blanche interpretation (click to embiggen):

One will notice the delight Keira experiences, as she gets ready to shove the trident up my ass. I don't know, does clown suit me? Or maybe the real question is does fish-on-a-stick suit me?

Kitty Catalyst

Raphael got me the sweetest gift when he was in Orlando. Click here to view a picture of its cuteness. Don't get too close, it might rub off some of its good fortune on you!

He got it in the Chinatown part of Epcot, and according to ancient Disney legend it brings love in to the owner's life. Harmony & balance are free riders, but they come too.

You may have noticed I post, that's right - nothing - about my love life on this blog. I'm going out on a limb today, however, and letting everyone know the figurine is already working.

For the first time in officially 1 year and ... um, several months: I blushed.

Perhaps you need to re-read that last sentence for the seriousness of this situation, and to absorb full impact. Yup, me. *I* blushed. Got that tingly, stomach flip goin' on and felt my face turn all red. Rather embarrassing, but then the guy did it too.

The fact that the man is unobtainable is totally not the point. The point here is that I'd like to thank Raphael. He's triggered the start of a new era. Woot.

Cybersex Oops

This is some funny shit. Found on this website, I gathered one of the more unique transcripts for your pleasure. What kinds of transcript? Cybersex.

Well, cybersex gone wrong anyway. (Thanks for the link, Raph). Just one second... *putting on my robe and wizard hat*

Spring to-do list

I have been meaning to do this for quite some time and, well honestly, just kept forgetting. Or putting it off. Not tonight... tonight I finally made my wish-list.

A wish-list-in-progress of things, most of which are quite unlikely to happen without some seriously divine intervention, but at the same time are completely possible. I give myself a year. After that year... um, I make another list. Yayyyyy!

In no particular order, my list:

• Visit Prague
  (this one has been on my list since I lived in Europe - the *only* city that was on my list that I didn't make it to, dammit)
• Visit the Azores
  (alternatively, I'll trade up the Azores for a nice Caribbean locale... but the Azores are the spot I truly lust after)
• Gallery exhibits
  (this one is quite do-able, the trick being I have to FIND some first. Have had zero luck so far, but it sounds like Shea can hook me up with the art word. Gooooooooooooooo Shea!)
• Wine tasting
  (Two stipulations here: first that it be somewhere downtown and within walking distance of my house, and second that Shea agrees to walk with me)
• Color my hair
  (need to win the lottery first)
• See Keira
  (she hasn't had phone or internet for a couple weeks now - we're dying here!)
• Receive monetary compensation for the expertise I am (capable of) providing
  (with that said, such shows of disprespect by unmentionable *cough employers cough* are doing nothing to conjure my interest; a little help here Universe?)
• See the movie The Company
  (coming out in June - YAYYYYY!)
• See at least one foreign film in a local theater
• Do the triad of restaurants
  (this goes back to a thing I told Em about; key ingredients for this fiasco being a worthy companion and his incredible ability to read my mind)
• Do the art on/for a piece of media: e.g., book, movie, music
  (if Steve would ever actually get on writing his screenplay or novel I'd be further along on this one)
• Find the funds to ballet and tap dance again
• Reinvent my piano playing skills
• Finish the book "Gooberz"
• Get a Russian Blue & a kitty with mittens

A list in progress....

Mummy Sophie

Ummm... so it looks like I'm going to be a mum in the next month or two?

Happy Mother's Day

Mostly for my mum and Keira...

But for all mum's everywhere: Happy Mother's Day! May the angels kiss all of your foreheads.... and, uh, take away the kids for a few hours of peace and quiet.

"My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual, and physical education I received from her."

Pouring memories

Tonight we positively had the most magikal storm! Complete with crooked lightning, brisk winds, tornado sirens, and pockets of rain sweeping through the city like ghosts. Eeeeee! I parked myself on my windowseat, threw my legs up, opened the windows, and read my book.

Mmmmm... and now it smells like wet, um, wet everything! Wet grass, wet window screens, wet flowers, wet trees, wet asphalt(?)!

Intense storms remind of two things:

1) Playing in them with Shea (which we had to do at my house so her mom wouldn't freak out - my mom just giggled, wrapped us in about a bajillion blankets when we were through, and then fed us hot chocolate - further fostering our storm skippy-ness). Shea and I also drank the water that came pouring out of the hole in the curb across the street. I blame all my quirks on the ingredients of that f*d up water.

2) Being at my summer home growing up. I suppose that since I spent the majority of the storm season here it only makes sense that I would be reminded of it. The smell of wet wood, sitting in dark rooms with my family while we watched the rain pound Crystal Lake, and then getting upset because my brother's and dad would walk around outside when tornados were about.

Man, did I hate when they did that. Honest to goodness, I thought a tornado would swoop in and carry them away. It freaked me to tears on a few occasions.

All hail the sexes

Reasons to rejoice...

1) Pleasant company at the Newsroom
2) Com'd drinks and food to boot
3) Keira has internet!!!

We interrupt this regularly scheduled programming to inform you that Dave and Steve get real, real mad when I get special treatment for... well, for being a woman.

Tonight for instance. I go to a local restaurant and get my yummy martini and snacks all comp'd by the extremely nice, talkative, and male host. No big whoop, as I'm fond of the respected establishment and am on casual terms with the man. He's very friendly and I --honest to goodness (a very Minnes-oh-tan thing to say)-- enjoy chatting with him.

Steve and Dave, on the other hand, seethe with jealousy. Weather it be free drinks, having doors opened for me, free "xtras" from Au Bon Pain downstairs, etc. etc., it's a source of their pain. Which is of course why I take every chance I get to tell them about it. Not so much Steve... he's getting used to the whole "What Margaret wants, Margaret gets" mentality. In fact, come to think of it I think he's the one that labeled me with that phrase. But Dave... whoa-ho-hoa. His face turns red, his fists clench, and he scrunches his nose.

"See... now, that is TOTALLY unfair!" he'll fire off.

"I'm sorry Dave *now I batte my eyelashes a few times*, what would you like me to do about it?"

"Dammit Margaret *insert head shake."

That's when I offer up a game of tic tac toe on the whiteboards or talk about getting some white chocolate to run interference. And of course it works.

I'm just sayin' people. If I go to the Newsroom for an innocent drink, have a pleasant chat with the host, and he happily comp's the bill, I'm down. Besides, men have their perks for being men. Like... acting all masculine when I give them the opportunity to flex their muslces and pay for shit. Lucky bastards.

Goddess giveth

Another picture from the wedding... can we just say, "HOLY LOOK AT THE RACK ON THE HOTTIE IN THE PINK SHIRT!" Who even notices I look like a gerbil on the pic? Bah? Minor detail people. Stay focused... I'm gonna keep this around the top of my blog for a while to prove that I DO have one. A rack, that is. Not a gerbil. Yipeeeeeee! All hail the god's of big racks.

Bouncing here and there...

Throwing it back... who remembers?!:

Le Secret Story, Part Deux

I know you didn't think I forgot about Le Secret Story! Just saving up all the good bits to pass along as soon as I felt my audience was ready... as all ya'll waited with bated breath. Just in case you forgot how it all started, here's the link for the first bit again:

:: Le Secret Story, Part Une

And without further adieu, I give you Le Secret Story, Part Deux.

Meanwhile....

Back at mDogg's perfectly zen, vanilla scented, japanese themed pad, mDogg was chillin' to the smooth sounds of Buddha Bar. "What a beautiful day to..." *ring ring* mDogg threw down the king cobra, lolled out of bed, and shuffled across the room in her pink sweatpants. "No one has the audacity to call this number - this can only mean one thing. My clever, beautiful, gorgeous, intelligent Indigo sister needs backup of the smart-mouthed goddess variety."

"mDogg, I'll be there in 10 minutes - make that 5 minutes. We have some serious goatherding ass to fuck up in a voodoo-themed way today. I'm right around the corner at Victoria's Secret getting supplies."

mDogg violently threw the cursed phone across the room. "BASTARDS!" She immediately smothered herself in Amber Romance, piped up Collide on full volume, slithered in to a black mini-skirt with thigh-high velvet stilettos, and strung together the black laced corset. Moments later the sweet sounds of thumping bass and screeching tires resonated from outside her window and mDogg swaggered outside as if on que.

As mDogg flipped her hair and put on her tinted Gucci sunglasses, she remarked, "Let's get the fuck out of here. I feel the need to bust some goatherding ass."

10 minutes later...

"Shaken. Not stirred. VERY chilled. Straight up. Oh, and sugar and powder the rim, please. Make that two, Marcello, and make it fast. mDogg and I are on a mission and need a quick refueling. Every time you two run off on your little rendezvous, you deplete the mDogg's Qi. As a matter of fact, you probably need to whip up a couple of lemon drops too for good measure. Extra sugar on those lemons."

*Yelling over to shamelessly-flirting-with-someone-else-mDogg across the bar* "Hey m, what's that one shot that that one guy at that one joint in Erialcuae used to make for us all the time? No, not that one... The one you light on fire... YEAH! That's it! "

"Errrriiiiic, can you please make us two of those while we're waiting on Marcello? We LOVE fire! "

Back at the super-secret, quasi-realistic, bad guy compound our master evildoer writhed in his curdoroy knickers.

"THEY SHOULD BE HERE BY NOW!" he screamed at all the incompetent, horribly disfigured henchmen. Spit and sweat emanated from his every orifice as he helplessly waited. Seething.

"WHY ARE THEY STILL AT THE OVER-PRICED, GORGEOUS, ULTRA-SWANKY MARTINI LOUNGE?!!!! Things are NOT going to plan. Bubba, Francis, Dwayne, you're coming with me to launch a full-scale attack on THEIR turf. All other battalions fall in. We have work to do."

Back at the Over-priced, Gorgeous, Ultra-Swanky Martini Lounge, the Beautiful Indigo Goddesses were thoroughly enjoying their drinks and stimulating conversation with all of the impeccably groomed, well spoken, artistic, creative, well-traveled, wealthy, hunk-of-burning-love men that swarmed around them. "Ahhh, does it GET any better than this," mDogg remarked. "It most certainly doesn't, m. We are truly blessed. And beautiful. Did I mention how fucking *gorgeous* we look right now??" "Hee hee hee," they giggled.

Life was great for the Goddesses. They had completely forgotten all about the -- "Hey, what's that smell?? Sniff.. Sniff.." "HERDERS!!!," they both exclaimed. "What the FUCK are these ASSHOLES doing on OUR TURF?! This is IT!! The LAST straw! It is ON!" mDogg commanded.

"I've got the ammo. Where are the guns?" Kaydee asked. "Hel-loooo-ooo?? Aren't they in your picnic basket in the Porsche? mDogg answered. "Hee hee -- shit -- they sure are. BEHIND THE BAR -- emergency hand grenades! That'll hold them off until we get the REAL artillery."

"M, give me just a minute. I have to run in the back and throw on my sparkling, gold bikini. It goes with my Gucci sunglasses, you know *wink wink*. Donatella told me this piece was for her favorite 'dahhh-ling'. It's time I finally put it to proper use: thwarting evil and laughing in the face of stupidity and fear."

mDogg just threw her hair back and giggled. "Oh my goddess, the one you bought when we were in Milan? That color looks SO fantastic on you. It really brings out the lovely shade of bronze in your skin. Wait a second, stay on point, yo. We have work to do. While you're getting changed in to your ultra-sheek getup, I'll fire up the boat and get our parachute packs ready. Hee hee - sometimes I feel sorry for the herders. If only they knew what was coming. OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, I just said 'come'."

"Owwww, my stomach. Stop making me laugh mDogg. It's hard to stay focused when you're all distracting me with your clever humor and witty intellect. You're completely ridiculous. OH MY GOD, I just said 'dick.'" Hee hee hee hee... The Indigo Goddesses laughed themselves right into their sporty little pink sparkly speedboat.

"Vroom, vroom!! Let's go blow some shit up mDogg!!"

"Right-o Kaydee," mDogg replied as she peeled out of the dock like a bat out of hell - her hometown. "Weeeeeeeeeeeeee," they sang in unison.

"I think the Goat Cave is about 15 miles NE."

"Oh Kaydee, you just sit there and look pretty. Goddess knows you have NO sense of direction!"

"Hey! I do too have a sense of... Hey look! Pretty shiny things in the water!"

"Oh my Gentle Horus! I think those are tracks to the Herder Cave! Let's follow them and see where they lead," mDogg said. They followed the tracks for nearly 20 miles when they finally reached...

The smelly. Ugly. Dreaded. Goat Herder Compound. *dun dun dunnnnnnn*

"You grab the ammo and I'll grab the torture devices and climbing equipment," Kaydee whispered.

"Got 'em," mDogg whispered back. Kaydee dashed to the side of the cave and made a perfect shot with her climbing hook right into the edge of the herder's compound. mDogg and Kaydee scaled the cave like pros until they reached the lookout station at the top. "Ping, ping, ping," Kaydee's gun, with a silencer, of course, went as she took out the 3 incompetent goat guards. "Nice shot," mDogg praised. "Can I get the next one?"

"Of COURSE you can," Kaydee laughed. "I can't have ALL the fun here! Lets move down to the main floor. We'd better get our gas masks on now. That smell can be JUST unbearable."

The Goddesses moved stealthily down the winding stairs until they had a clear view of the herder's main defense floor. "I hope you kissed your loved ones this morning, because that was the LAST time you're going to see those mother fuckers!!!!!" Kaydee shouted as she threw down 2 handfuls of tear gas and grenades.

"AAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHH," mDogg charged as she vaulted off the side of the stairs to take out an oncoming goat attacker. SPLAT! mDogg drove a wooden stake right through his eye.

"Wooooo hooooo!!! I haven't had this much fun since we bombed that Beverly Hills cosmetic surgery clinic last summer!!"

"Kaydee, this ROCKS!!! We're taking these bastards DOWN!!!!"

"Quick M, one of them is trying to escape via the elevator shaft!!! Oh my gentle horus, I just said 'shaft'. Ha ha ha."

"On it Kaydee, *wink*". And with a back, triple-spiral-twist-full-layout M lept off the cave ledge with the sleekness of a jungle cat. The herder couple just stepped inside the elevator and watched the doors shut as mDogg fired off 5 shuriken their direction. "Damnit, that would have been 75 points at least!"

And with that last breath M shot her climbing hook in to the grates at the top of the shaft and went slinging upward, landing quietly on top of the elevator as it crawled higher. As M watched the two goatherders clutching each other from the roof, she just shook her head and sighed. Loudly. "Why do they always have to soil themselves?" she thought to herself.

And it was that moment that she dumped her emergency bag of flesh eating, fire-breathing, miniature stink monsters in to the elevator. Watching the two herders scream in pain should have been delishious enough, but mDogg is far more refined. She whipped out the miniature bottle of wine attached to her utility belt and poured herself a drink, savoring the lavender, berrylishious flavor as their skin slowly disappeared, exposing bone and fear. "Cheers." And a smile peeked from the corner of her mouth.

Meanwhile Kaydee was enjoying a fun little game of taunting the techie-goats in the downstairs Data Center.

"Baaaaah baaahaah. You better stop this baaaaaaaadness right now before we activate the super sonic goat alarm and alert ALL our crew from around the world."

"Oh no! I'm shaking in my little panties! How about this-- How about I run over there to that elevator shaft and talk this over with mDogg. If she agrees, then the attack is over. I promise. Hold your breath, k?"

"Baaaaaah... that sounds like a fair deal. Okay troops! Deep breath... and... HOLD!"

"Okay, I'll be riiiiiight back," Kaydee smirked as she headed for the elevator shaft.

"Hey M, hee hee, lets watch those asshole techie-goats over there hold their breath until --- *THUD. THU - THUD. THUD. THUD.* Oh well, it was fun while it lasted." The techies had already passed out from oxygen deprivation.

"Huh - looks like our job here is done. Time to move in to the Overpriced Gorgeous Ultra Swanky Martini Lounge. I have a feeling that's where Bocephus is lurking."

Bocephus was the leader of the herd. He was also the biggest, ugliest, most ignorant of all the goats, making him the Indigo Goddess's Arch Enemy.

With a tra-la-la and a skip in their step, the goddess went full speed out of the cavely compound and ran right off the 'Cliffs of Insanity'. Even with the wind went swishing through their hair, Kaydee remarked, "Hey M, this moment would be *very* Thelma & Louise if we didn't have the Ultra-stylish, Pink-buckled, fur-trimmed parachute packs attached to our backs."

"True that, Kaydee." *POP POP*, went their parachutes. "Let's head south. It will be faster to take the Gyrocopter back to the lounge. Plus, as a surprise I just had it painted bronze to match our sunglasses!"

"M, you didn't! Hee hee. Hey wait a second, which way is south?"

...to be continued...

Spaceball Soliloquy

Feh.

Ever have one of those days where it feels like the entire universe is bending you over its malformed knee, just so it can take a giant, cold, sharp edged schlong and stick it right up your a**?

Just wonderin'.

(This is the part where you say stuff like: )

*claps hands excitedly* I LOVE bunnies!

Plantalicious

It's time I told ya'll a little something about myself: I *gulp* am a closet plant-person. That's right, I have plants, and lots of them... and I keep it to myself. Take a moment to tawk amongst yo'selves, this news is shocking I understand. Especially to my family - oh the horror when they find out that I've been keeping this leafy little secret from them for so long. Perhaps a little backstory will help you through this difficult moment, yeah? Done.

As the story goes, I grew up in a house with no plants (well, at least not any of the 'alive' variety). So I really knew nothing about plants when I moved out of the house at 18. Nu-hu-huthing. Just thinking, "How much am I supposed to water them?" was an exercise in responsibility I actively stayed away from.

Until I moved to Sweden. And then it was really about the peer pressure. Well, it might have been about the wodka too. Ha ha, those were some good times. Stay focused Margaret... as I was saying. Oh yes, Sweden and plants. See, it's well known the Swedes are direct descendents of the norsk god Gardenskia (the greenest of all gods, sprinkling a pinch of love and a handful of sunshine on nature and its protectors everywhere... *happy sigh*). What with all the farmer's market's I regularly walked through, it was one brisk fall day when I caved and bought my first plant: Linnea *gasp, shock, amazement, popcorn anyone?*. To make a long story short, she was a very, very good girl and grew long and beautiful (don't you worry your little selves, she has a very good home now).

Fast-forward to July of last year: picture me moving in to a beautiful new apartment with 2 huge bay windows, pouring light and goodness to all inhabitants of this blessed space. The guilt was overwhelming people, honestly. I bought 3 plants: a leafy, vertical looking guy; a thick-leafed, full looking beauty; and a full, green-and-white leafed ball of perfection. You don't think I stopped there, do you? I bought each of them a perfectly perfect pot - in clean earthtones of course - two of which had little dragonfly insignia's on the side. This is the part where I giggled myself right in to a world of green, leafy happiness. Good times, good times.

Fast forward to his morning, and you'll get to picture me waking up to this (click on the picture for the full, eh, picture):

6 pots of plants each perfectly perfect and happy; and 1 chemistry flask brimming with cuttings. Sometimes it's just better NOT to ask how one goes from three plants to all that. However, if you're dying to know I am available for a fine dinner at the Oceanaire whenever you make reservations. If you forget the wine, I'll forget the story. It will be a fun time, I'm sure.

Here's two other ditties for your viewing pleasure - as always, click to embiggen:

What's the secret to my leafy success? Fuck if I know. I still don't know anything about what plants are named, or what the technically correct version of taking care of them entails. But I do have a few guidelines:

• Keep your plants in multiples, of at least 3. I don't understand it, but my plants are extremely social and revert back to infantile cuttings when I take them apart from each other, all throwing down their brown leaves in fits of anger 'n shit. Best just to keep them together. Agreed?
• I talk to them. Hey, I never said this was an exact science. All I know is that they love it when I talk to them. Not so much the singing though.
• Once every 2-3 months I put a little plant food in their water. I have no evidence that this neither helps nor hurts them... but they seem to dig it. Just make sure you wash out the pourie thingie when you're done cuz that shit will leave a nasty, reeky little smell.
• If the dirt feels dry, do them a favor and water them.
• Best not to place the plants in the farthest corner from the window. They can get pretty upset about that and in fits of anger do the infantile thing mentioned above.

Go now, people, and be merry. Water ye old plants. Happy Sunday.

PS, why does the smell of ginger and listening to music turned up REALLY loud whilst playing on my boombastic headphones make me so fucking happy?! Anyone? Anyone? Bueller???

Evening with Sliding Doors

Might as well round out the weekend with a few more quotes from one of my favorite movies: Sliding Doors. Drink up people, the sopheava lager runs thick tonight.

The Seat Pee'r

Here's the situation: I work in a very, very nice building downtown. The kind of building that every other buildilng longingly drools over. Alternatively, the other buildings want to take my building out back and kick its ass.

But my building rocks the shit, so it stands tall.

So will someone please explain to me why the F*CK someone at my office insists on peeing all over --SPRAYING ALL OVER-- the seat in the first stall? Really people, how hard is is to wipe? Every single day, wihtout fail, I come in to the bathroom in the afternoon, head in to the first stall, and promptly turn back out of it because the seat looks like a miniature version of a lemonade pool.

I myself, am a switcheroonie. Sometimes I go in the first stall, sometimes in the third. And on occassion the second stall when I'm so shocked by the sheer amount of yellow pee from the first stall I can't collect my thoughts long enough to walk to anything farther than the second stall.

And this is exactly the kind of behavior that made me wonder if *I* was the seat pee'r?! Could it be? Sometimes I use that stall in the morning. *Insert sigh of relief...* Then I quickly remembered that A) I always wipe and B) that my bathroom at home is pristine and perfect in every way. Yes, I have scientific proof that I am not the seat pee'r.

Possible suspects:

A) Several pregnant ladies about the place. Maybe they just can't see?
B) Lots of kids in and out of the place - maybe it's someone's naughty excuse for a child.
C) ..... ???

I leave the rest up to you, good folk. Any ideas as to the why, the who, and the what the f*ck is going on? Several women are deeply disturbed by "The Seat Pee'r". Rewards will be distributed appropriately.

More pictures, words coming soon

To be fair I didn't have time for a proper entry yesterday... best to not say anything at all in those cases. Am I wrong? Will fix all that later today - brownie's honor.

I DID have time to post some more pictures from the Wedding in my galleria. These pics were taken by my *other* sister Debbie and turned out spectacular! Newest pics are towards the end.

I also posted a few pictures of her pup Brandy. These are located down the west side of the building, through the turret, and in "The Fam" album.

Happy peeking!

One of life's great mysteries

Will someone *please* explain to me why every single time I brush my teeth I leave a wet-spot on my right breast?

How in the heck does someone who doesn't dribble consistently find a wet spot on her shirt, exactly where her right breast is? Every morning. Every night. Sometimes an extra time or two thrown in there too.

WTF?

Sopheava and the wardrobe

The synchronicity between Paul and I is ridiculous (Paul works in my old department).

Statistics thus far show that Paul and I dress alike at least 2 times a week, sometimes more. Odds going are 3:5. Today we both showed up wearing red shirts and dark jeans. He actually remarked that he thinks twice in the morning about what he wears for fear people will notice he wore something more than once in a week.

Then he decides that's stupid and that apparently *I* am the only one who will notice.

Really? Me? Would I notice?

THEN I find out he was late for work this morning cuz he was putting a deposit on a house. *I* was late for work this morning cuz I was looking at an apartment I think I'm going to get. (Is it starting to get weird now or is it just me?) His house will close towards the end of July. I'm moving towards the end of July.

Remarkable, isn't it?

And just in case you missed it, I did find an apartment I think I'm going to take. It's just 4-5 blocks from where I live now, still within walking distance of work, a very safe and exquisitely designed building with tons of ammenities, covered and secure parking, cost is almost exactly what I pay right now, and I'll be on the 6th floor with a STILL fabulous view of downtown (I SOOOOO love my view of downtown!). Huge kitchen and more closets than I can count. Seriously, the amount of closet space is ridiculous.

Unfortunately this means Em and I won't be living together any longer, but we have decided to make fantastic weekly or bi-monthly dates to the Newsroom where we charm every waiter/host in site and get everything for free :). Would it be any other way?

The other quirk is that I don't have any furniture! I have a bed. A dresser. A chair. And a coffee table. I also have several pieces of art which guarantees I will have the lovliest walls this side of the Mississippi. Should I start counting my blessings that -- this -- opens up any day now? One of the larger ones this side of the Atlantic I'm told.

[Note to self to write more about the other places I looked at. There were some winners!]

Framepologies

I digress for a minute - extreme framepologies to the loveliest of lovelies. Most of my art is courtesy of this chic, aka Marilyn, aka Mertile, aka Shea-a-ria.

She works at the very cool Calhoun Beach Framing which of course will continue to supply all my framing needs so long as I have the kizash to dizash out.

[Editor's note: being friends with someone since you were 8 years old can have its positives and its negatives. On the plus side, we can fart around each other and fits of giggles will ensue. On the negative side, there's videos of permed hair, braces, and bad taste circa late 80's early 90's. Including one video where (at the tender age of 11 or so) after an award-winning fart, Shea and I laughed so hard you can hear us run right off-screen, right in to the bathroomm, and then listen to about 120 seconds of giggling, peeing madness go down before we realize we left the camera on.]

Back to the art and my collection. A quick tour, shall we?

1) Gustav Klimt's, "The Kiss" hanging opposite my bed, so I can view it every morning and every evening. Shea framed this one so exquisitely it always has and will likely remain my favorite piece
2) Doisneau's, "The Kiss. More info on its happy migration downtown located: here.
3) 4 stone tablets with japanese calligraphy painted on. More on its naughty doings located: here.
4) Rather large painting of a ballerina as a sweet 16 present from my family (my mother's doing). I was a dancer of all sorts for about 16 years and the painting is so lovely it nearly took my breath away when I received it. Sits nicely in a brushed metal frame in my hallway at the moment.
5) Vettriano's, "Mad Dogs"
6) Vettirano's, "The Singing Butler"
7) Trio of Ansel Adams photos
8) My own amalgamation of body art, hung smartly in the bathroom (for now)

Go show Shea some love at Calhoun Beach Framing, won't you?

[Editor's note 2: will post the trio of amalgamated bathroom art later today...]

Pimpin' Yo

Yo yo, I needed a new car like what. So I called my peeps and hooked up a fly ride, doper than dope.

Go on, make your own: here.

I fully expect all your rides hooked up and in the sopheava hizzy. Word.



This just in, kDawg all up 'n in the hizouse too. Word to the mother fucking G.

And now we have D-o-m to the i-n-i-c's SUV -- taking a little bling-bling to get a ring-ring. Out.

P d-o-double g in the hizzouse. Hooooooooooooo.

T AZZZ's smooth'n next to the big wheel.

The Oak Hill Picture Show

I'd like to be the first Oak Hill Picture Show groupie by publically declaring my extreme love for the guys making that movie. Perhaps the most talented group of actors and artists I have ever met (not to mention cute, intelligent, hard-working, and extremely passionate for their art).

And of course mad props to one Mr. JJ Shebesta, who just happens to be the brother of my roomie. JJ is kicking major ass by not only appearing in the movie but doing all the special effects for the horror flick as well as the ads appearing below. What I wouldn't give for her CGI-animation tools. Wow.

I can hardly even wait to see it *claps hands excitedly*! And please note a few pictures of the gang can be found in the galleria in the Chicago Trip album. The point, of course, is to show them much love -- so please do them a favor and print out the pictures, hang them in your bedrooms, and wink at them every morning while getting ready.

This is, of course, a horror flick so psychos will be welcomed.

The wait is finally over

I know my sister Debbie, to be discretely specific, has been wondering, "Where in the hell is the kitty skin?"

You'd think that someone who loves cats as much as I do, and has yet to even own a cute, soft, cuddly, lovably cute-a-licious ball of kitten fur, would have posted a kitty skin ages ago.

The pressure people. It was thick.

But this weekend was extremely productive and the last in my long-line of skin production was this beauty:

(Click on the picture to change the style)

Simple, yet so fucking cute I could just pick the little guy up and bury my face in his sweet, kitten smelling fur. I've named him Sushi, just so you know.

I've been doing some web design work for Keira and got bushels and bushels of designs done. FOUR to be exact, including the new kitty skin. Go on, change the to the kitty skin. You know you want to! [Click here to pull the ol' switcheroo]

I am woman. I am strong. I think?

Big week ahead. I've got 3 tasks on deck:

1. Finish sister's website
   
   Luckily this sucker is well along and what's left is cleanup. With a click, a crop, and a save I will kick #1's ass right in to the done pile. Don't mess with me and Shiva, yo.


2. Spending less time on my computer and more time feeding my brain.
   
   Today I went to Barnes and Noble to treat myself to a pleasant, non-computer distraction. And by 'treat' I mean 'trick myself with bright shiny things, cuz I love my computer so much it will take nothing short of world-class orgasms to get me away from it.' I bought 2 ditties:
   
   1) Last Chance Saloon by Marian Keys. Just so everyone is clear, I'm going to spend less time nourishing my soul and developing my talents and more time reading smut. All in the hopes of reducing the mega-sized tumor I'm likely developing from being within a 3 foot radius of at least 2 computers for 14 consecutive hours per day.
   
   And 2) The Gilded Chamber by Rebecca Kohn. I have no good excuse for buying this book other than it sounded like an interesting story and there were bright, shiny, pretty gold swirlies all over the cover. DAMN YOU BOOK COVERS!!!


3. I'm eating healthier this week too. Given task #2, I realized this weekend that my version of taking a break from shithead code that is pissing me off is to step awayyyyyy from the computer and in to the kitchen for a snack. If I weren't walking around this cursed city so much my ass would be dimpled. Soooooo... mindfulness and me are one. Like two souls, joined at the anal-retentive personality.

Now. I'm off to kick task #3's ass because Raphael left a bar of my favvvvvvvvorite kind of chocolate - white - on my desk this morning. It's taunting me. Laughing at me. Begging for me to be its bitch. I will resist. I'll resist all but one little corner, which is a treat for being so good today. Yay!

Find a bucket, the music sap runneth over

Time to play that game again. I full expect each and every one of you to participate. That especially goes for Debbie, Paul, Keira, Steve, and all the other lurkers out there. Hey, I show you mine - you show me yours. That's all I'm sayin'.

Also, I'm feeling like a sap tonight so I'm going to add my 'saplist'. Hand-picked pieces that touch my soul and maybe yours too (thanks JC). If you haven't heard of something and want a copy, show me some love.

1. Alicia Keys - Harlem's Nocturne: Dood, she can rock the piano like what!
2. Red Violin Soundtrack - Kasper's Audition: I still get shivers everytime I see this part of the movie. What would be even cooler is to see this piece performed live. Like, wow.
3. Lenny Kravitz - Minister of Rock 'n Roll: Gotta love the Kravitzmeister. Wasn't so sure about his new album at first but strangely enough have found myself rockin' away to it whilst working all weekend. He's passed the sopheava test.
4. Coldplay - Daylight: Everytime I listen to this song I swear I see things hatching and sunrises peeking.
5. Crowded House - Private Universe: Now this one makes me want to cry. I could swear it was in a movie once - anybody know anything about this?
6. Juno Reactor - Pistolero: When they make a movie of my life, this song will be playing during the scenes with me and Keira.
7. Los Lobos - Morena Da Mi Corazon: Ay yiy yiy yiy! Love song in Spanish. At least I think it is.
8. Digital Underground - Freaks of the Industry: Whoa, how did this one get on there? From love song to strip club in all of 2 microseconds. When you see us backstage...
9. Roni Size - Brown Paper Bag: Go Roni, go Roni *sing along* go, go, go Roni. Best to listen to this one extremely loud. I love listening to this while I'm getting ready for work.
10. Talvin Singh - Sutrix: Now... whereeeee did I put my glow sticks?
11. *Honorable Mention* ---> Bush - Swallowed (Goldie/Toasted Both Sides Please Mix). Another fantastic 'getting ready for work' tune. Some therapists use it for 'anger management' sessions. At least that's what Keira told me.

And on tonight's playlist, you will find the fave's for today. One day it's Aaliyah, the next day it's Peter Murphy. I don't understand but I see a theme apparent tonight. Perhaps a fine mix for a loved one? Just make sure that when you make that special someone the following mix you give me full credit. *sigh*

1. Arabian Atmosphere - Kurdish Moon: Start things off on the right foot, er, sandal with a little arabian atmosphere.
2. Ofra Haza - Love Song: Since we're on the arabian thing, make sure you include this one. I'm pretty sure it's a love song. Well A) since it's called that and B) it's so fucking lovely in its acoustic form I just want to listen to it all night.
3. Zero 7 - Polaris: One of those songs I swear is playing in the soundtrack of my life. A groovy, lounge style tune all tripped out. If I were a lounge song on weed, this is the one I would be.
4. Elliott Smith - Between the Bars: I like to think this was written for me. His voice is haunting... and beautiful.
5. The Communards - La Dolarosa / Reprise: I'm double teaming Jimmy Somerville on your ass. Both of these tunes have hypnotized me many an evening. Again with the haunting. Kiss your woman, will you?
6. Nick Drake (with Elliott Smith) - River Man: Stumbled on this one quite by accident and can't stop listening to it. Very poetic, and I'm not talking about the lyrics.
7. Waste Drop - Everything (Is Never Quite Enough): Ever seen The Thomas Crowne Affair?
8. Peter Murphy - I Will Fall With Your Knife: Don't let his tough exterior fool you, he is a humungo romantico.
9. Lamb - Angelica: Perfectly articulated, a musical composition of my day.
10. Daylight Bleed - Bruised and Abused / Untitled Bonus Track: Hard to come by, this mastermixer. But SOOO worth the wait once you get your paws on it. Will put your right in to a meditative, happy trance where clarity and beauty are clear as light. I have the in with this artist so let me know if you're interested in his work. Very Peter Murphy meets KMFDM meets Pro-Tech. Mwah!
11. Balligomingo - Marooned: Hmmm... if I were marooned on an island I'd want this song. Sounds like it's set to the energy of the ocean.
12. Conjure One - Damascus: Rounding out the arabian theme.
13. Radiohead - How To Disappear Completely: Token Radiohead.
14. Devlins - Waiting (Tom Lord Alge Remix): Ever feel like you're one step behind? When I hear this song it feels like I'm living life in slow motion. Imagine your life as a visual series of consecutive frames, twist them up, and unravel everything slo-mo. That's the best description I have of this song.
15. Eva Cassidy - Autumn Leaves: A bookend. You'll just have to hear it because there are no words.

Watch out for sap oozing all over the place tonight. Promise to be back to my normal, mouthy self tomorrow.

Reader's anonymous

Smut reading, day 1.

In case you missed it, I'm trashy reading's best and most annoying friend this week. The one all up and in its face incessantly nagging, "Whatcha doing? What's going on? Can I come play too? Ooh ooh, pick me!" I swear that if my books had caller-ID, no wait... make that psycho-ID my ass would be screened right in to psycho stalker prison. To hang with my ex-boyfriends.

Hello everyone, I'm Margaret. [*one lone voice from back of room: "Hi Margaret"*] And I'm addicted to trashy reads. Wow, that felt good. Hey Keira, is that you?!

Luckily none of my books have personalities (or a pulse for that matter) and I can love on them as much as I want to! Yipeeeeee! Yesterday I made it through 12 chapters of Summer Read No. 1. Twelve out of forty ain't bad, eh? And please do not forget my unhealthy addiction to Sex and the City this week too. Very few things make me laugh out loud in honest tickledom - but I swear that some of the shit that comes out of Samantha's mouth has *got* to be improv. When will I be getting royalties for all that material is what I want to know.

So, would love to chat more but I'm currently brushing my teeth and staring at the wet spot on my right breast in wonderment, all in preparation for hopping in bed in about 5 minutes to make it through another 10 chapters or so. One tickled Maggie hopes, that is.

This is the part where I buy you guys off with a list of some good things. Think Martha will mind I steal her 'good thing' phrase for like a sec?

• Bringing in Krispy Kreme's for IT and my CD peeps
• Buying Steve his very own copy of Return of the King
• Being pleasantly surprised by the fantastic production of Avril Lavigne's new cd
• Debugging -- no wait -- make that successfully debugging stupid amounts of java & html
• Japanese for lunch -- count of how many people know how much I looooooooove Japanese?
• Finally getting my paws on some decorative swirlies

It's that time... time for me to retire with my book. If I don't return in 24 hours send help in the form of a descendent of the Greek gods. Any -opolis will do.

Puff and blow

Funniest.

Thing.

Ever.

I'm watching Sex and the City, Season Six, Episode #81 The Post-It Always Sticks Twice. Here's how the best part of any sitcom EVER went:

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd que Margaret laughing so hard I nearly fell on the floor from lack of oxygen. I swear to goddess that has to have been me and Keira. That one time, when we were, um, smoking. Cigarettes. Outside that bar. And her apartment. And then there was the time in her neighbor's apartment, right in front of god, everybody, and the deer heads hanging on his wall. Oooooh, and my apartment. In her ex-boyfriend's car. And whilst talking on the phone with each other.

Divine Intervention

In today's category of weird and unusual things that happen to me...

I went to the shop across the street that sells the shakes with my friend this afternoon. This also happens to be the shop where I pick up fruit a couple times a week for lunch.

My friend orders his shake and we prepare to take leave, me keeping a sharp eye on the Japanese prize waiting for me to devour it upstairs.

This is the part where my friend comes walking over to me and says, "Dude, the chinese lady behind the counter just gave us a couple free bananas. She just shoved them in my hands and said 'Here-a. Dese awr fo you and friend.'"

What the fuck?

So I got a free banana. And I have no idea why.

It's fate though... a tenured prankster will be leaving my company tomorrow. As I walked out of the office my banana peel was being shrink wrapped inside his chair by fellow nerdling pranksters. Or was it his keyboard?

Simple Things

~~Zero 7, In The Waiting Line

Things are looking wet

This is what the weekend has in store for me:

The Incredible, Infallible Gazelle Glider

I am a shithead. Take a moment to catch your breath, this revelation might come as a complete shock. Case in point: Keira's never-ending lust for one so-called, amazing, incredible, miracle workout contraption called the Giselle Glider.

Or at least that's what she thought it was called up until I tried googling it. And promptly found out it was actually the GAZELLE glider. I was laughing so hard I could barely tell her my sudden findings.

Picture this. In my head I envisioned a sexy supermodel-gliding sleek contraption. Until its proper name surfaced. And then the gliding contraption was ridden by a gazelle. A FUCKING gazelle!

So in honor of my tra-la-la-licious airhead friend, I'm presenting the GAZELLE-GLIDER.

Dream On

I did it yesterday. I finished the first summer read. It only took me 4 days or so which isn't bad. But you see it IS bad because it's trashy. I know I should be picking up the Rousseau on my shelves or having a romp with one of Jane Austen's male leads. But instead I took the low, easy road.

And since I've already fucked up my good-reading karma I decided I needn't stop there. This is my second summer read. I'm already 5 chapters in to it and it's... feh. Needless to say I'm underwhelmed at this point. Ho ho ho, but you forget I have this little ditty queued up next! The one with the pretty cover. Awwwwwwww.

On to a completely unrelated topic, I found myself falling asleep by Chapter 3 of Summer Read No. 2 (all of 10 pages). This isn't a rare occurence. It was only Friday evening that I was nearing the end of Summer Read No. 1. I flopped on my freshly fluffed bed, put Balligomingo on my mp3 player, and started reading. That was when I felt my eyelids getting heavy and I thought to myself, "It's only 8:00. I'll just shut my eyes for a minute. I can't WAIT to see what happens to Katherie and Joe!"

Just in case you weren't sure, Balligomingo is trip hop. Set to the sound of shit like ocean waves. And lots of wind. I was out within 2 microseconds. It was about 2 hours later that I woke up when I think I heard my roommate say something to me? Not exactly sure.

However, if I could get back to the point ya'll might make it to the end of this lametastic post. Ah yes my dream. So I woke up about an hour ago from this very strange dream. I dreamt I was at a learning facility (similar to a school, but I have no idea what I was learning). It was as if some alarms went off and I went in to Fast-Response Super-Hero Vixen ™ mode. It was then I realized I was wearing a cat-suit and had massive amounts of guns and ammunition at my disposal.

And then it became like a video game. I ran out in to stopped traffic and flew from the hood of one car to the next, taking out the alien imposters with my very shiney gun. And as I passed a thanking by-stander he said to me, "Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Rebecca Romijn?"

And that was it!

Needless to say, I look nothing like her in real life. But hopping from car to car saving the human race was buckets of fun!

That's all I have to say about that. Think this means I secretly want to be a leather-wearing superhero? I think I'm one incident away from being a walking, talking Lifetime Movie.

Pucker face

Will someone, anyone, please tell me about dessert wines. And can you make that quick?

I received a very spendy bottle a few years ago and was told it was fantastic. Ironically I never got the chance to drink it. And mostly forgot I even had it. Until tonight.

And I know I should be enjoying it. But the fact that its color is neither clear nor pink troubles me. And that it tastes like whiskey on the rocks, with a splash of sugar. Blch.

Just so you know, I make a face everytime I take a drink.

Chiro to the Kelly

My sister has a new website. It miraculously appeared on my computer one day and just FTPd itself right on to her servers. I like a website with gusto.

And since the website spawned on my computer I will take complete bragging rights to it. She wanted something doctorish, yet alternative medicinish... while at no point alienating the doctor or the alternative. Still with me?

Any-who, go show her some love, won't you?

www.chirokelly.com

I've been nice, not too naughty

minneapolis greenway | cribbage | rain | capri pants | pierce brosnan | all my plants | big bowl | summer reading | kittens | ginger essence perfume, from origins | japanese food | purple nail polish | tea | all the fountains downtown getting turned on | new beginnings | no. 60 | 70° weather | sparkly sandals | sex and the city | tinfoil | crate and barrel | streussel | acid jazz | distractions

And I promised myself I wouldn't do it... but I can't help it! Mulholland Drive people - that is one f*ed up movie. I mean, I get it. Betty (Diane) comes to Hollywood and gets crapped on. She's delusional and doesn't take rejection, to put it nicely, well.

But do I have to be the one person who actually admits it? Who's brave enough to spell it out for you? I. Don't. Get. It.

*Sigh* I'll probably throw in something like The Thomas Crowne Affair tonight just to recover from the extreme weirdness of that movie. On a scale of 5 weird stars, I give that movie 8 tripped out moons.