Montly archives

Love for the city

It was on my list of things to do for ages. Pity it took a bout with insomnia to get me to actually post the damn thing.

Living in a 'downtown' environment is one of my greatest thrills. Suppose it has been so for the past year and a half. Scratch that. I first caught the bug when I lived downtown in Sweden. The lights, the people, the activity, the never-ending source of things to see and do. The tea... oh how I looooove the tea. And that is why I'm posting a picture of the beautiful, beautiful Minneapolis skyline. I swear it still takes my breath away everytime I see it at night.

Ironically, this particular picture was taken from the balcony of my previous abode, 32 floors high. My current digs have the same view, only 30 floors lower. Still with me? And the upcoming pad has a view 6 floors high and a tad more removed promising a spectacular panorama of my favorite skyline.

Bogart, the Pigeon

It is definitely, most definitely the height of spring in Minneapolis. How do I know, you find yourself asking... um, yourself? It is mighty fortunate you're at the current blog then. A blog filled to the brim with answers to all life's most meaningless questions. Meaning-FULL, rather.

Today I saw... dun dun dunnnn.... the pigeons! It's quite right of you to call me daft for not noticing the plethera of pigeons before today, but you see, I HAVE! One here, one there. The remains of mafia Lou splattered in the street. But there was definitely NO plethera going on. Nada. Zip. Zilcho.

Today, the plethera hath arrived. City pigeons have got to be the laziest fucking animals of all the animals in the history of lazy fucking animals. More lazy than the bunny rabbits hanging out in the teeny patch of grass in front of the brownstones. More lazy than the squirrels jumping in to the garbage cans and eating big macs (on my good honor, I swear I have seen this one on a few occassions). But the pigeons in the city are sooooooo lazy (How Lazy Are They, Margaret?) that instead of 'mating' like normal animals they just waddle. There's no chase. No aero, naut-ically death defying stunts. No passion.

Just. A. Waddle.

And damn, those are some bitchy birds too. They will walk right up to you and shit on your foot if you don't give them what they want. Random thoughts for a Tuesday afternoon. ... .. I'm very happy I'm not a pigeon.

My good hair day

Yipeeeee, look what I did to my hair tonight!!!!!

Wouldn't that just be the day when I went candy-apple red? Today was not that day folks. But you have to admit, it's very "Britney Spears in Toxic", yeah? Admittedly I've been red. And blonde. And black. And brunette. And everywhere inbetween (and eventhough the black was a complete accident in a desperate attempt to turn it brunette again, it still counts. I. Was. Jet. Black.) And don't get me started on every length I've dated. Winona Ryder short, Claire Danes Short, Carmen Electra layered, Jennifer Anniston layered, Claudia Schiffer layered, Gwyneth Paltrow straight cut, Jennifer Beals perm. Each and every one of them copied me.

So I took Steve's (extremely biased and outrageous, based on nothing but a pair of breasts and a quirky smile) advice and went to the hairdresser he wants to marry. Does it need to be pointed out that I was the one who recommended him there in the first place? Yes, I think it does.

Rachel dahling, she was a dream. She did a fantastic job despite my every attempt to get her to dye it candy-apple red. And any of you who know me know that (fill in the blank here) "What Margaret wants, Margaret _________"

So I now present the pictures of the haircut. Extra points to anyone who notices something in 3 of the photos. To receive full extra-credit Margaret love you have to point out the what AND the why. Don't be scurrrrrred, play along!

(and this last one is me hiding from the extremely terrible and embarrassing photos I just subjected to both myself and you)

Blusheava

By all accounts I am not an easily embarrassed person.

Don't think I am naturally this way, however. It took years and years of tortured, blushing practice and much pounding from my older and bossier brothers to basically not give a shit about what people think of me. "Feh", is my usual response when people try to get a rise out of me.

Today was one of those days where I got embarrassed. I think I might have actually blushed.

So the story goes that I bought a new pair of capris pants at Target on Monday. It was a day off 'n all and I haven't (as they say around here) "boughten" a new pair in ages. Cute doesn't begin to describe them. They're light blue, airy, comfortable, tie-string perfection. Tra-la-la. It should also be known that I work between at least 2 computers and 4 odd monitors everyday as well. Try to stay with me here...

My *main* computer we'll call workstation: SUPERFLY. My development computer we'll call workstaion: PIMPIFY.

Act 1, Scene 1: Margaret locks SUPERFLY
Act 1, Scene 2: Margaret locks PIMPIFY
Act 1, Scene 3: Margaret goes to lunch

Act 2, Scene 1: Return from lunch, and head towards SUPERFLY
Act 2, Scene 2: My chair is at PIMPIFY
Act 2, Scene 3: Rather than bring my chair back over, I squat in front of SUPERFLY to check my email

Act 3, Scene 1: Raphael comes over and says, "Dude, you are SOOOOOO asking for a wedgie if you're gonna squat like that."
Act 3, Scene 2: I sort of laugh him off. He's the type of guy would do something so mean.
Act 3, Scene 3: Raphael exits.

Act 4, Scene 1: Drew comes over to me, now stationed at PIMPIFY, and says, "Thanks for the show, that was really sweet."
Act 4, Scene 2: I say, "What show?"
Act 4, Scene 3: Drew says, "Your thong is totally hanging out."

Que embarrassment.

Que red cheeks.

Que Drew laughing in fits.

Annnnnnnnnnd que Margaret quickly taking a mental count of all the people she probably flashed over the lunch hour as she walked around the bumper to bumper traffic. And the farmer's market lot. And the twin's game fans. I don't think I've seen so many people downtown in a very, verrrrry long time.

Act 4, scene 4: I say, "Holy. Shit. Did I go to lunch like that?" and get reassured it just happened when I bent over.
Act 4, scene 5: Raphael's comment starts to make a lot more sense.

I mean honestly, don't you think would have felt a breeze or something? I was actually *conscious* of where my pants were when I bent over and it didn't feeeeeel like they came down even a smidgen.

I learned today that these pants are crafty. My pants learned today that they're on my list.

Art showing

I know I said I wanted to do the gallery thing, but please drive to my house and stuff a chicken down my throat before I'm in to art like this:

Spring Cleaning (part deux)

I'm looking to make several changes to the website in the upcoming days. So, a few things:

• I adore Japanese food. Feel free to stop by with it en tow whenever the spirit moves you.
• Right then, skinning. What's the verdict - Yay? Nay? I'll probably do away with some of the old skins on the redesign. In fact, I'll probably do away with most of them. So now is your chance to let me know which skin is your fave.
• It's also your time to submit requests. I'll do my best to accomodate everyone. Or at least appear like I'm trying my best to accomodate everyone.

It's a beautiful weekend. Enjoy yourselves and speak freely on any or all of the above.

A toute a l'heure!

Wonkyness

So yup, things are a-changing around here. Mostly behind the scenes but I've made a new skin too. It's an old designer trick to make it SEEM like I've made buckets of important changes that are noticable. If things are looking a little wonkey click here to fix it right up!

I'll drop in a few of the old styles in the next few days... at least I think I will? Still waiting for feedback from all ya'll.

Fresh new look

It's sunday. It's late. So go check out the fresh new skin if you haven't loaded it already (click here to pull the switcheroo). More to come tomorrow of course.

Meli Melo Props

I did a little updating on a website for a fellow Minneapolite this weekend. Site design was originally done by my friend Tim. Gotta give the guy props for using pink, it mustn't have been easy for a guy/programmer to know what in the hell to do with it.

So it should come as no surprise that the extreme excitement I felt working on this site was popping and bursting out all over the place. In case you didn't already know, I ADORE pink. I love to hug it, and pet it, and call it my squishy. Do note Steve's only comment to my impending skin for this website: "Margaret, it's gonna be all pink and girlieeee, isn't it?"

My response: abso-freagin-lutely.

So without further adieu, I present Méli Mélo. Go show her some love, won't you?

Sometimes I scratch my head when I wake up

I'm noticing a disturbing trend in my sleeping patterns as of late. This is how it goes:

Phase 1) It's late, ish, and I'm talking to Keira on the phone.
Phase 2) I'm like the machine-gun-yawner, all yawning between every other word.
Phase 3) Keira and I say goodnight to each other.
Phase 4) Brush teeth, close curtain, fold back sheets, and flop in bed.
Phase 5) And this is the most important phase - I wake up 2 hours later in a cold sweat, reaching for my phone, because I am *certain* that I've fallen asleep while talking to Keira on the phone. *Whew* I realize I didn't.
Phase 6) Repease process 2 hours later.
Phase 7) Wake up at 7am to the tune of, "Did I fall asleep during our conversation or didn't I?"

Which is extreeeeeeemely fucked up because I've never done anything like that. EVER! At least, I don't think I have? I mean, I'd remember falling asleep during a conversation. Wouldn't I?

I imagine it would be kinda like falling asleep during sex or something. You just don't. And if extenuating circumstances prescribe this course of action, that's what memory is for.

I'm retarded. On the other hand, it's a sign I care about my dear friend. Well, that I care enough to see if I left my phone on.

Utopia

Keira and I indulged and exchanged utopia's today. Just thought I would share.

I spend my summers at my summer home, located right on the ocean. Moderate climate. Warm, but not humid. It's small, nothing overtly pompous. Instead it's cozy, warm, well decorated, and *very* minimalistic. Lots of white, sheer curtains. Hardwood floors. Big, fuzzy white carpets. Again, to go with the whole 'house on the beach' theme I'm not employing many lights - instead using candlelight and fireplace light for the evenings.

I have 2 kittens that come in and out as they please. And I have a beautiful, light oak colored desk with smelly candles on it sitting in front of one of my huge bay windows (probably in the library). From my desk I can see 2-23" monitors and and 15" monitor of my laptop. But just beyond their scope I see the ocean. And when I close my eyes I can hear it crashing; along with the sounds of the wind, the seagulls, and smell the salt in the air. I probably trot around in light capri pants and a bikini top all day, with my hair in a cute little bun on the top of my head. And sometimes I'll throw on my sarong and trod out to the beach for a quick dip in the ocean, which of course my skin LOVES because everything is so natural.

Included in my love affair with perfection is fresh fruit, fresh veggies, and fresh seafood located at the farmer's market a small walk or bicycle ride from my house. Which means of course that every evening I drink a glass of wine and munch on crab legs as I sit on the front porch of my ocean-house, looking past the palm trees and enjoying the sunset.

6 garbleflanks

Where do I begin tonight? So much to discuss, so many reader's with personality disorders. Scratch that. Attention disorders. I will can only promise to travel the mouthy road I normally travel so stick with me here folks.

This message will self destruct in 10 garbleflanks.

1. Everyone not living under a rock knows venus is in transit today, right?
Even *I*, one without any sort of media around to tell me what to think, knows about this monumental affair. And why shouldn't I? My home planet is practically roasting deserving males to honor the extreme sacredness of... transiting. Just think of it - nice, juicy men being ever so slightly browned. And don't forget the apple in the mouth. And some sprigs of flavor tucked behind the ears. What a wonderful event, don't you think? It's a good thing I found out too, because I was just at the point of passing the blame for all the fucked upedness in my life on to some unsuspecting fuckchop™. Which brings me to point 2.

2. My sincerest apologies to anyone at the receiving end of my bitchiness.
Let's be clear about something straight off: by bitchiness I quite literally mean honesty (the world could do with a little more honesty is all I'm saying). But one particular individual has been taking the grunt of all my hang-ups, fears, and all-around bitchiness like a fucking champ. Yes, I said *FUCKING* champ. In fact, this person should receive an award titled "I Put Up With Mags And Am A Better Person For It." Wait, that sounds more like a t-shirt. Damnit. In any case, I blame my hangups on the venus transit thing. All my love to this person for being so bloody patient.

3. Right, so my new favorite word is 'fuckchop'™.
Oh how I wish I could take full credit for this beautiful, perfectly formed word. No can do on that one folks, Timmy pooh is the cunning lingual culprit once again (oooooh, that sounded dirty, huh?!). In case you haven't heard, fuckchop is the new black. Fuckchop™ is all the latest craze in insults. Everybody wants to use the fuckchop™. Fuckchop™ is just soooooooo all the rage. Go on ye followers and spread thy fuckchop™ word.

4. Chris Isaak's Wicked Game makes me want to fall in love.
..... with you. What the fuck? Where did this item come from? Oh right, it's playing on my MP3 player at the moment. Such a lovely tune, don't you think? Makes me want to run around a grayscale beach in my underwear.

5. I will be attending this over the course of the next few days.
Usability Conference: $1000. Usability Conference being held 6 blocks from my apartment: priceless. As if I could *BE* so lucky to have attended last year's conference in Scottsdale, AZ. Or the conference the year before that in Florida. Nope, the conference is --- wait, how did they put it?:

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. I'll leave this one alone since I actually love the city I live in. I'm just saying people.

(As an aside, the usability people sure could use(ability) a little help on their website. EEEK!)

6. Perfect rain rocks the hizzy.
Tra la la.

Much-ass grassy-ass for ye ol' attention kind folk. Go now, be merry.

ETA

Keira says:

Wasn't that fun?

Open invitation for enlightenment

So, is data pronounced:

1. day-ta

--OR--

2. dah-ta (dadda)

And either I missed the boat on this next piece of new lingo or the 80 year old speaker figured the age of 40 was young to her. So when talking about others in a conversation do you say....

1. "He said......" , "And then she said....."

--OR--

2. "He goes..." , "And then she goes...."

Come on now. He goes and she goes? Who fucking says that anymore? That shit is, like, sooooooooo 1980. Take the leg warmers off your heads and get with the fucking program and learn to use the word fuck. A lot. Light one up and then say...

3. "He was like...." , "And then she was like..."

Yes, it's disgusting. But I *do* use the "like" (and far too often at that).

The other thing I'm bursting to tell you guys about is one of my other domains. You didn't think sopheava was my only alias, did you? Ha ha ha. I actually have a couple of websites, the newest one added last night. And I soooooooooooooooooooo want to tell you all about it cuz it's the coolest domain EVER!

But I have decided that would be a bad idea since I just got it and it's as yet unpublished. The content isn't even ready for it yet. Ooooooh, but the name is so fucking cool I could do a hair flip. WHAT'S A LIBRAN TO DO?!!!

*pant pant*

How about I just ::batte eyelashes:: and tell you to contact me directly for more *.nfo (that's what the cool kids call 'info'). We'll revisit this subject in a few weeks. Wish me luck!

Reminiscing

I miss this place. :( Isn't it purrrrrty?

Show of hands who will move back there with me.....

Insomniac feast

Bleary eyed isn't good for the complexion. Neither is lost hearing (honestly, I took a shower last night, wrapped up my hair in a towel, and ever since one ear is very muffled.... wtf mate?).

And in my sleeplessness I found this: Friday's Feast.

Since Friday 5 hath retired, I'll give it a go.....

Filed under the 'WTF' category

Is this for real?! Posted on amazon.com:

(Is this two bugs humping or it is it a lady bug eating an aphid?)

Apparently you get 9000 REAL LIVE ladybugs for the bargain price of $19.99. *shakes head* Weird.

Ooh ooh, read some of the reviews for this product! (I don't know why this cracks me up so much - amazon.com rocks!). And if you get a chance, check out the caterpillars. Crunchy!!!

All in the family

My brother is joining the ranks of the cool kids on the block and now has his very own, brand spankin' new blog! Check out Silicon Slick P. Large here.

The Reverend Doctor Margaret Tickle says you should take his advice and get your own pimp name here. Playas appreciate.

In other noteworthy news I'm on Summer Read #3, this recommendation courtesy of Shea: Angels & Demons by Dan Brown. Yup, he's the same guy that wrote the DaVinci Code - in fact, this book is the prequel to the DaVinci code.

A real pageturner! (I've always wanted to say that). I would definitely recommend both books for fun, summer reads. The only thing that kind of sucks (in my extremely biased and venusian opinion) is that the recipe for both books is the same. Since I've already read the DaVinci Code I can see how he's setting me up for certain plot twists and turns. But whatever, right? It's still entertaining and it still means that I'm actually able to drag myself away from my computer for extended periods of time to do something more nourishing with my brain.

Right Margaret. Nourishing. Heh heh.

And in even MORE unrelated news I've put up nearly all the skins again. I'm having vague inclings to do a new skin in the vain of 'techie" and "simple". Take a look at The Underworld's website. Whadya think - anyone interested?

Happy Birthday Steve!

For your birthday, I got you a typewriter font. Ha ha. And here you thought you got all the cool gifts on Friday night.

Warning: skinning imminent

Quickie note before I'm off to bed. I've posted a new and improved, totally ridiculous skin that could be hazardous to your health. Click here to switcheroo at your own risk.

Nature's giving me the eebie jeebies

This weekend I learned something groundbreaking about myself: I, Margaret Andrews, am a city girl.

Right. So..... I shouldn't be surprised that going in to the suberbs is now an event, like going hiking for instance. Or playing fetch with mountain lions. I don't like hiking very much. Or at all. I don't *do* strenuous physical activity, k? But there I was, the city girl saying, "EWWW! There's bugs evvverrrryywhere!" And that would be my friend's que to say, "Grett, they're MOSQUITOS. Get over it."

I couldn't believe myself- the chica who used to swim in freshwater lakes as a kid. The one who rolled around in the grass and called earthworms her 'best friends'. I think I've hit rock bottom.

Do you think they have intervention for prima donna city girls like me? The most wildlife I see everyday is the fuzzy booty bunnies, the friendly "could you spare a peanut" squirrels, and the chirptastic birds on the walk to work. I don't even have SPIDERS in my building. Nada. Zip. Zilcho.

It's all about environment. I'm quite sure that if I purchased a house out in the country again the bugs and I would be intimate friends. For now, however, they seemed to sense I was from the city because I only got 2 minor, hardly even itchy bites. Which of course means I'm emanating a 'don't fuck with me' horomone. Hmmmm... must have picked that up in the past few years.

Cool.

Urgent help needed!

As if it should be my problem, but now it is. *Someone* sent me something from overseas.

Four months ago.

To a work address 2 work addresses ago.

And didn't bother putting a return address on the package.

OBVIOUSLY I never received the package and I'm freaking out cuz it was something extremely personal and cannot be replaced. How in the *HELL* do I go about getting this package back from the US Postal Service? Perhaps a little more info will help you help me:

• I already called the management group of my building. They said the package would have been sent back to the post office.
• Post offices do not have direct numbers. You can only call one national number for inquiries located who-the-fuck knows where.
• I called that number and the guy said there's 2 recovery centers in the nation: 1 in Atlanta and 1 in St. Paul (que Mags getting excited*).
• Recovery centers do NOT have phone numbers and no one knows why.
• I found out online that recovery centers are *actually* auction centers.

And now I want to cry because the package contained a hand-written book. HAND WRITTEN! With extremely personal information. Stuff that was written for me and I might never, ever get to read it. And I have no idea how to contact the fuckchops at the government to try to recover it.

*weeps*

Anyone have any advice?

Na nah

I have a gmail accounnnnnnnt.... la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaa la laaaaaa la.

Why is gmail so fucking cool?! Figure this:

Hotmail gives me 2 MB of storage space. Gmail gives me not 10 MB, not 100 MB, not even 500 MB, it gives me 1000 MB!!!!! (a gig for all the hosers out there)

Gmail also has a lot of cool features, including that you get to view your messages more like an IM conversation than the traditional "email" look and feel. Sooooooo much easier to keep track of your messages. Plus, all that fucking marketing on hotmail was REALLY starting to piss me off. Flashing kangaroos here, high school reunion shit there. BAH! There's marketing on gmail but I didn't even notice it for the first hour, it's THAT discreet.

Now. Gmail is only in beta and so not just anyone can sign up for an account. You have to know someone who knows someone who knows someone. I happen to know Joe. I'm Joe's chocolate dealer. Which kind of makes me feel like I blackmailed him to give me the account. Well, showered with guilt anyway. I give him chocolate, he gives me a gmail account. Equal trade, no?

Oooooooooh, I'm the luckiest person EVERRRRR! Ooh ooh, look at me. I have a gmail account. Tra la la...

I'm done. I think.

You and you can suck it.

I've posted all the sopheava.com skins. Every. Single. One.

Now I'm going to bed. Yawwwwwn.

PS.
Keira, your bitch ass better be using that pink fucking glitter skin that everyone hates now that I've put the time in to putting it back up. Appreciate.

PPS,
Same goes for you Paul. While I don't expect you to suffer through that wretched pink swirlie skin, I *do* expect you to use the original flower design, now called *full bloom*. You wanted it, you got it.

PPPS,
Turns out the new and ridiculous skin isn't so ridiculous. Steve is my ridiculous gauge, since he usually can't stand any shades more colorful than... white. But apparently.... HE LIKES IT! *shakes head* I just don't understand. It's all.... bright... and shit. Typical.

PPPPS,
Please, for the love of all that's holy, click here to go change the skins of this website. It's fun. And tastes like bubble gum!

Trouble in paradise

Whoops!

One of the benefits of not owning a TV is *not* having to watch the train wreck that is Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey every 2 seconds. On the verge of their 3rd season with MTV it appears there's trouble in paradise.

Here's a sneak preview of season 3 (like I could make this shit up):

A favor for a favor for a favor

For some reason, what Steve posted tonight really moved me! I'm taking the time to write this young man tonight and I think he would really appreciate it if you did too.

I'm re-posting Steve's entry below so you can read it for yourself. Just tell him that your internet friend's brother's neighbor's sister's boyfriend's next-door-neightbor's doctor's daughter's step mom heard from this guy at a bar with 6 fingers about his birthday. Bueller? Bueller?

Just kidding. Just tell him you heard from the grapevine about his birthday (Dottie Pratt is Steve's mom's name). Steve won't mind it that I'm reposting it here. Hell, it's the least he can do for me redesigning his website. Hee hee.

Happy Birthday Arthur, whereever in the world you are.

And please, try not to hurt yourself when copying and pasting his email address. Had to add that 'remove text' bit and an extra space so that evil internet bots wouldn't pick up on the address and start spamming him. Let me know if you're.... confused *scratches head*.

Housing of the future

This appears to be real... and if it is? Um, like, whoa.

For real? Housing in the everglades. Maybe if you're in to giant ass, psycho mosquitos and bugs, alligators, a pox of diseases, and a host of other instantiatedness.

Fuck that shit yo.

Dear Gmail

Dear Gmail,

Let me begin by letting you know that I think you're an inspiration to provider's everywhere. What with your generous 'giving', I'm not sure anyone else could live up to your precedent. Even if you *are* only in beta.

However.

I must broach the subject: Why is every *other* gmail user getting literally dozens or more invites and I am getting none? I love you and nurture you and what do I get in return?

Don't even *think* about responding with the token "I give you 1000 MB" card. You give that to everyone.

Am I not special? Is it my perfume? Is there something in my teeth? I'm all about honesty so if we could get this taken care of straightaway that would be spectacular. Mmmkay?

Many Thanks,
~Ms. Sopheava

PS, Let me remind you that I only need 1 invite. *One*. For the love of all that's holy, I'm starting to get impatient. My friend is very cute, very single, very impressionable, and could do with some huge hardware. Do. Your. Worst.

PPS, Does it need to be pointed out you don't even have FOLDERS? My inbox is starting to look like the place where emails went to die.

PPPS, And your gui - well, let's just say that I will hold my tongue on the ickyness that is your gui if you send me the invites. We do *not* need to go there.

You know what I mean?

her: I hate it when.... eh! I'm so... wahhhhhhh. Fuck. You know?
me: You mean you're walking around the house, hungry, looking through cupboards looking for food but nothing sounds good. So you just end up wandering around blankily staring at the walls?
her: TOTALLY!!!
me: Yup. That shit is bullshit.

And I slide right in...

Listen to this voicemail I received a few nights ago (right click, "Save as...." and unzip this sucker):

Ok, so maybe you didn't think it was as funny as I did. But seriously, it's pretty funny. Right?

I nearly pee in my panties everytime I listen to it. That girl cracks my shiznit up. Get this chica a tv show, movie, column, book deal, or anything else that will allow corporate exec's to have their way with her je ne se qua quick... she's one incident short of trumping a Jessica Simpson does Paris Hilton orgy.

Where oh where has my font gone?

I'd talk more now...

But I'm afraid I'm in a font daze. Have been perusing, downloading, and installing for ohhhhh... the past 2 hours or so. I've officially got the bug eyes.

Sorry about the bug eyes thing.

I'll be in my office.

Dad's everywhere should nap today

My angel Gabriel

So it seems I'm terribly behind the times. Well, according to the all-knowing Yahoo! Movies, that is. Out of curiosity I went to their website to look at the trailer for some thing or another and realized I hadn't heard of ohhhhhhh, around 90% of the movies!

• Apparently there's some movie where Tom Hanks is Russian? Who the fuck is gonna buy that?
• And since when is Guinevere a warrior? Um no. I won't be a part of that.
• What the fuck is this dodge-ball movie doing on there? Hmmmm... quality viewing.
• Oh, and some Brittany Murphy flick coming out where she's a psycho girlfriend. Ok, I realize it's supposed to be a romantic comedy but can we say PSYCHO?! The only psychos that will go to see that movie are psycho girlfriends or psycho single chicks. *shudder* I wonder if Brittany Murphy has officially had a going away party for her career yet?

I did learn something about myself whilst traversing the dodginess that is our media, however. I'm a hopeless romantic and sap lover, no matter what my tough exterior says. Mmmmmmm.... sap! Movies I'm going to check out:

The Notebook: I actually started to cry during the trailer. I haven't been to the movie theater in probably 8 months but I am already planning on a trip to the theater next week to see this one. Just me and some popcorn. And I'll have to sit in the back so no one see's me weeping tears of happiness.

Finding Neverland: Johnny Depp. You gotta love the guy's taste in movies - when is the last time he's done a lemon? Throw in a gorgeous Kate Winslet, a lot of fantasy, and I started getting teary eyed during this trailer too. That's right, I'm a sap. You wanna fight?

The Incredibles: Ok, so this movie isn't a romantic chick flick. But it's *sooooooo* going to be incredible.

And while we're on the subject of media Lamb's latest album titled "Between Darkness and Wonder" has got me by the freagin' tongue. Sometimes I buy CDs that I like. I don't love them, but I like them enough to buy them... knowing they're good for 'background music' or 'work music'. I always end up loving what I buy but it's not necessarily right away. That's this album. I bought it a couple months ago when it came out and found it feh.

As of this weekend I officially want to marry it. *Tear* Cross cellos and stand up bass players with trip hop electronica. Oooh baby, strum that downbeat and crank up the noise. Bring in the funk cuz... damn!

That's a lot of media for a Sunday evening. Queued up next is Karsh Kale's Liberation. Ready troops? Annndddddd.... *hold*.

Sunday primetime

Friday's Feast for Sunday Dinner. Don't be shy, play along!

1. Appetizer: What kind of car do you drive? If you could make an even trade for any other car, what would you want to drive?

Drive? Bah! *shakes fist* I walk (and it's a good thing too cuz I'm pretty sure there would be dimples on my cute little ass if I didn't). But... if I could pick any car I wanted it would be something extreeeemely luxurious. Let's not forget foreign. Come on now. When all is said and done this cute little ass would always prefer to be sitting in an air conditioned, leather interior shaking to the sweet sounds of The Digital Underground being piped through my 8 speaker stero.

2. Soup: Take your phone number and add each number together separately (example: 8+6+7+5+3+0+9=38) - what's the total?

39

3. Salad: When were you last outside, and what were you doing?

Went to my friend's house to feed his cats today. Mmmmmm.... kitty breath!

4. Main Course: What is your favorite restaurant, and what do you usually order there?

Ugh, these favorite questions give me a headache. I don't know about a favorite restaurant, but I've been spending a lot of time at The Big Bowl lately. We're talking full appetizer sampler with chicken satay, peanut noodles topped in cucumbers, dumplings, potstickers, egg rolls, summer rolls, and 3 types of dipping sauces. For the main course I'm all about the shrimp pad thai or kung pao chicken (the spicier the better). That's right, I'm hard core. Dig it? And for dessert, I order the warm gooey brownie, drizzled with chocolate, and topped with vanilla bean ice cream. Don't forget the ginger blush drink (pink and perfectly alcoholic) adorning the table as well.

5. Dessert: Name 3 things in which you occasionally indulge.

1. Britney Spears' newest album
2. Putting on daisy dukes and dancing around the house to the tune of 'Toxic' full blast
3. After all that dancing, a nice long shower with lots of smelly shower gel

Summer Read #4

Summer Read #4 is underway. I checked my records and it seems that I've been reading a book a week! Sing along.. go me, go me, go.. go.. go me! Now let's remember this is a summer read programme, not a 'Holy crap she should be reading books more intellectually stimulating' programme.

Summer Read #3, recap: it was Dan Brown's Angels & Demons and it was incredibly entertaining. I won't be surprised for a millisecond of Robert Langdon becomes the next Indiana Jones, all dashing and daring and courageous and caring (or was that the gummi bears?). I finished that one in a week.

For Summer Read #4 I will be expanding my horizons a bit and tackling Gilles Neret's piece simply entitled "Klimt". By now all of you *should* know what a huge Gustav Klimt fan I am, so the fact I picked up this beautiful book at Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago shouldn't come as a surprise.

That's right, my next book is about an artist and his work. What was I saying about sap again..... ?

Gmail's slippin' it to me

Guess who got her first gmail invites?!!!!!!! YIPEEEEEE! I've already sent a few out.

First I sat down and wrote a list of everyone I knew. Then I put a happy smiley face or sad smiley face next to each of their names. And then from the ones that had a happy smiley face next to them, I wrote a little heart next to the ones I really loved.

Those were the ones that got invites.

Natches.

I've got a few more waiting to get used - anyone wanting a gmail account? If for no other reason than the word 'gmail' sounds dirty. Like g-spot. Or g-string. Good grief Margaret, get your head out of the gutter. Oooooh baby, wanna come play with my gmail?

I dunno. Just get one. They're like, cool and stuff.

Mafia Pizza

"Oh my gawd Cher, I almost died!" <--------- THAT is what I wrote to Keira after lunch yesterday (snaps to anyone who can name the movie).

Yup, it was Mafia Tuesday and I lived to tell you about it. Pizza with the mafia you ask yourself? Ho ho ho is what I say in response to that. Not only was it the mafia, it was the *Russian* mafia (or was it the Czechan mafia?). That's right, I'm hard core. Can ya dig it?

First of all, per normal, I get these IMs from Joe and Steve that go something like:

Joe: Mafia pizza for lunch today?
Me: It's only 9:30 Joe.
Joe: What's your point?
Steve: Mmmmmm..... mafia pizza.
Joe: I'm hungry, let's go at 11.
Steve: K
Me: Impatient doods, can we at LEAST make it 11:20?
Joe: I'M HUNGRY NOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!
Joe: Fine, 11:20 it is.
Steve: Mmmmmmmmm.... mafia pizza.

As unfortunate as it was, I didn't eat breakfast and found myself in a rather bemusing predicament whereby my stomach would growl, loudly, and I would tell it to "Shhhhh, be quiet." At 11 o'clock I was telling the boys I was hungry and ready to go.

The walk to mafia pizza is lovely - let me think for a moment. It's about 3 city blocks straight through the heart of Minneapolis, over one block past at least 2 fountains, and up another 2 blocks perfectly parallel with the new lightrail transit. And it was sunny (apparently it was SOOOOOO sunny that some overaged, overweight suburbanite in Tennis shoes pulled out her pink polka dotted parasol for the occasion and sped by us at top speed). Additionally, the weather was so beautiful that when I looked up in to one of the skyscrapers, a perfect reflection of the sky and its cumulonimbus clouds shown in it. Soooooo pretty.

Oops, snap back to reality.

Mafia pizza is a shitty little restaurant (imagine an abandoned Subway) on the corner of the pulse of Minneapolis. Not only does the mafia own this shitty little restaurant, but they own the corner store next door, the strip club next door to that, and there's some other joint next to that too. All connected by a series of back doors and sneaky hallways.

But since I *knew* I was eating with the mafia, I shouldn't have been surprised to walk in and find a security camera placed above a rickety old door by the cash register. Um... shity old restaurant + rickety old door = security camera? Queue fear for life. Not even the well dressed businessman or the rail worker who came in and seemed rather "in" with the guy behind the counter seemed that odd to me. What *did* freak me out was the guy behind the counter who kept one lone hand under the counter from the moment we stepped in until the moment we finished ordering (all totals are whole of course - $3.25 for a slice of pizza, $4.25 for a side order of bullets to go with it).

Was it a buzzer? Was it a shotgun? Was he alerting the big daddy sitting upstairs, with a bib around his neck eating lasagna, to watch us eat stromboli? I DON'T KNOW! But I dooooo know I've got a hunger for stromboli again. It was real, real yummy. Gah! Commy bastards.

Oh. My. God, I could have died!

Mmmmmmm... stromboli. The cheese was all melting over the sides. The meat and goo inside of it melted in my mouth.

I saw a glint of fear in Steve's and Joe's eyes. They were afraid for their lives.

They weren't afraid of scarfing the stromboli in all of 2 minutes. With xtra marinara on the sides.

With a side order of WHOOP ASS only a buzzer away.

*Tear*

I'll always cherish my time with those 2 boys. If I die in a freak crossfire instance, don't weep tears of sadness. Weep tears of joy - that I lived long enough to eat the extremely scrumptious stromboli.

Summer Read: Update

We interrupt your regular sopheava programming to bring you a summer read update. Do not adjust your browsers, lameness ensuing.

I've dropped summer read 4 1/3 (the Klimt) for summer read #5 - The Notebook, by Nicholas Sparks. Yup. 4 1/3 will resume when 5 is complete, but there's the rather urgent matter of the movie version coming out this weekend and I have a date with Shea to see it next week!

Try to remember for a wee second that this was the movie trailer that made me cry. It's a form of shock therapy really - if I read this mushy gushy book *NOW* then the movie won't be a surprise. Thus I won't cry. Thus my hard-assed exterior remains in tact.

Show the love. Or I'll sick Czechan mafia on your asses.

The light changes my grey skies to blue

*Some people have been having a helluva time getting ahold of me lately. One round of apologies, coming right up.

You see, when I'm not being a web designer, graphic designer, programmer, usability and accessibility nag, and all around QA and tech support bitch at work from 8:30 to 6, I'm at home working on personal projects.

Add to the spicey mix a project I've been working on for three months solid due in a matter of days, emergencies up the wazoo, a basket of kittens in St. Paul to tend to, my summer reading program, this website, that online software application, a project for him, my three personal websites, and I'm one overworked, underpaid, underappreciated chica this week. I'm up to two showers a day - TWO! - because they calm me. See how calm I am right now?

*pant pant*

We'll catch up soon guys. Promise.

Dear Azores Islands,

I realize we've never met but I've long admired you from afar. Is it so wrong of me to ask if you would be so kind as to please save a warm spot on the beach just for me? I will come for you one day. As soon as I finish being java and html's bitch I am exclusively yours. Promise.

Love,
Margaret

*Exclusions to the rule include:
1) libran indigo goddesses of the sister variety
2) that person causing me extreme irritation (you know who you are *wink*)
3) those who have to put up with me at work
4) Claude, Sula, and Faulkner (the kittens)
5) Shiva

Change with that

Does anyone else find it irritating that when cashiers gave you change, they put the paper money in your hand first --- bundled together with the receipt --- and then drop the change on top of it?

And then they stand there holding out your bag like you're just taking up their precious time. Giving you the "move it on out, you're taking up my precious time" evil look.

I'm just sayin' people.

This is my public plea to change givers everywhere to please, for the love of all that's holy, put loose change IN MY HAND first. Because when you don't it goes slippin' all over the place and that will *really* irritate the people behind me when I have to pick up 26 coins all over the floor.

And second, unless I ask for the receipt, put it in the bag. Don't couple it with my change like it's a loose bill. My wallet doesn't go with cheap liquid paper - so let's keep it separate.

Mmmkay? Thanks.

Irritating Bizzatches

This is what Keira and I do on Fuck Off Friday's™... yup, the following was written this morning. I'm not afraid to admit it.

Appreciate the genius that is us, will you?

*~*~*~* Irritatin' Bizzatches *~*~*~*

Alright, yo, yo , yo , yo
I wanna talk to all ya'll hoes
Cuz when I compose
Everybody knows.
And this is how it goes:

When you cross my path
You better do your math
Cuz two's a crowd
Don't make me say it out loud
Do me proud
And stay the fuck up out my path
Cuz you's an irritating bizzatch.

*funky bass beat commences*

When you all up 'n in my face
I be diss'n you bizzatch
Get yo' OWN mutha fuckin' space

Cuz this bomb diggity shit rolls up like foil
kDawg in the hizzouse, yo... I know who's loyal
So when you look at me wit dem judgin' eyes
I spit on you (*insert hock and spit sound*) it's time to recognize
the talent. Yeah, I'm irrate
so what you gonna do about it?
Shut the fuck up, ho. Appreciate.

*downbeat breaking interlude gets the party started*

That's right
Don't hate
When you're late
And your fate has been determined
all in one date
Five minutes of love
Shorty didn't wear a glove
And now there's a little boo
all growin' up inside you

You stupid ho
Where did you think he'd go
when you told him you loved him and
that his baby was in tow?

I-RR-I-TAT-IN...
tothe-muthafuckin-G you be
That's what you is
Sho-ty
You's an irritating bizzatch.

*chorus*

So when you sittin' in that restaurant
Wonderin' what you did, why you put up that front
Look inside yourself for the answer
You fostered that irritation yo, it grew like cancer

But it's just another day for you
Hear that? Time to break out the whack beats like they sum'in new
And irritate someone new
Wit baby en tow
Like it's an unwritten law
that you be up to your irritating bizatch ways
Word, like bliggity bliggy blawww

My mmmmmmovie list

I've gone ahead and done it. All because of her, I've done something I never, *EVER* thought I would do: create a favorite's list.

This favorites list? Click here to view my top 20 favorite movies.

Yeah, not so easy pick 20 favorite movies EVER! I know I forgot some and that's how a scant few of these movies slipped on. Just for rack of lecorection. Or lack of recollection. Whichever.

Takin' a break from the norm

Summer Read #5 officially has a dusty spot on my bookshelves. It took me all of 2 days to complete The Notebook and I cried like romance's bitch. I don't think I've ever experienced a miracle but after reading this book I realize I do believe in them. Always have. Always will. *tear*

I'd like to order one heaping helping of miracle, please. Mmmkay? Thanks.

It's a tradition now, so here's my Friday's Feast:

1. Appetizer: Briefly describe your living room.

Lonely and deserted - bookshelves, japanese folding screen, coffee table. I spend all my time in my room as if it were a living room so it's really more appropriate that I briefly describe my room. Candlelight warm, vanilla scented, impeccably clean, cozy, and minimalistic, relaxing, soul soothing perfection.

2. Soup: List 3 things you'd like to accomplish before the end of 2004.

1. Ubershique
2. to grow back the nail I nearly sliced off with my thumb last weekend
3. Strum another string that makes my heart sing

3. Salad: When you're online, what do you spend the most time reading/playing/doing? Suggest a site for us to visit.

I spend most my time communicating with the people I love, writing, designing, and reading. Check out chromasia. I adore savoring the photos posted there everyday. Like an illicit treat!

4. Main Course: What would the title of your autobiography be?

Dragonfly

5. Dessert: What time do you usually go to bed?

I usually fold back my perfectly made, sweet smelling, fluffy and cozy comforter around 10 and spend a half hour reading, writing, or sketching before I turn out the lights.

A little more on the movie thing

In news completely unrelated to Britney Spears' ability to fuck up her life far better than the tabloid's could have ever imagined in their wettest dreams, Michael Moore is KICKING SOME MAJOR ASS THIS WEEKEND!!!!

While I do not necessarily agree with his views and persuasions on even the most sensitive subjects at the moment, I respect him for creating and populating honesty. For pursuing without fear what few others endeavor in an entire lifetime.

And it seems several thousand Americans agree with me as well. Wonder what Mr. Bush thinks about a case of honestitis going around America?

I'd type more tonight but I have a date with Johnny Depp and a Secret Window. Seriously, he kicks some seriously brilliant serious ass in this not so serious movie. *giggles excitedly* Stephen King, feh. Johnny Depp ---- please admire him when you get the chance, cuz damn.

Summer Read #6

Today was supposed to be Summer Read #6 day, whereby I stopped at Barnes & Noble to pick up my sister's recommendation. "It's really, really good Margaret!!!" she said to me the other day.

But nothing ever works the way I think it will, meaning the universe has stepped in and kindly landed a new book on my lap. This one courtesy of Tim because I took care of his kittens last week. It's called Dress Your Family in Curduroy and Denim, by David Sedaris. I'm not well read on le contempe authors so the name means nothing to me. But the book is free and Tim giggled with glee the whole time I sat inspecting it so it can't be that bad.

Here's what I've gathered of it so far:

• Collection of essays


• Autobiographical


• About his own dysfunctional family - just like every other family. Well... ever


• In the vain of 'humorous'


• Picture of a naked barbie on the cover?

I'm down. I'm hip. I'm with it. *choka choka choka choka.... haaaaaaaa*

And goddess bless big brothers too

The younger of my big brother's turns 32 tomorrow. Like, whoa.

I remember when he had permed hair and listened to Stryper. I also remember when he broke my bed by jumping on it and then blamed it all on me. Fucker. Or the time he put the giant plastic spider under my covers, purely for the sake of scaring the shit out of me. My only regret is that I can't somehow slip it in to his laptop bag one day -- now THAT would be funny!

The other weird thing about having older brothers is that they sometimes call me by my childhood pet name, Peggy. It's sort of gooshy-wooshy sentimental - like there's only 4 people in the world allowed to call me that, and it takes some sort of practical joke and incident involving a pellet gun to earn such treat. Lucky me :).

No really, lucky me. My brother Paul is wonderful, and it's even more wonderful watching him father *HIS* 2 young children.

Whoa.

Happy Birthday Paul!

On the downlow

new beginnings | ubershique | minneapolis orchestra hall fountains | baby bunnies | a decent 'do' | capri pants | x-small & x-tra long tank tops | shea's generous box-giving-ness | big bowl | ginger | her | mafia monday | between darkness and wonder | gmail | kittens | talk of azores | grilling out | courts ruling in my favor | naps | summer reading programme | sense and sensibility | fuck off friday's™ | hot italian sandwich from d'amicos

And the fave-songs list:

1. 4 Non-Blondes - Drifting
2. Buddha Bar II - I Love You
3. Karsh Kale - Instinct
4. Lamb - Stronger / Sugar 5 / Angelica / Till The Clouds Clear / Darkness
5. Alicia Keys - How Come You Don't Call Me
6. Nina Simone - Feeling Good
7. Roni Size/Reprazent - Brown Paper Bag
8. Zero 7 - Polaris / Distractions / Simple Things / In The Waiting Line
9. Avril Lavigne - Take Me Away
10. Communards - La Dolarosa