So, some say I'm silly for being this upset over the death of Tim Russert. To all of you.. I say, 'then I'm silly'.
I'm 36 years old and have seen the deaths of many public figures, as have you.
Benazir Bhutto died way too young. I cried over her death... and feel awful she died so young. She was an amazing woman who just wanted peace, and died before she could see it happen. She died doing something she knew... hoped would have an impact. An Impact on the the regular everyday people who just wanted to be able to live their lives.
We've all seen other's who have died. Celebrities who were murdered, or who had a drug overdose or an accident in a car. You see it on the news and think 'damn, that's awful'. Maybe you drum up a few memories of that persons life, see it on the news for a few days, and life goes on.
I'm babbling... I guess I'm trying to explain how all those deaths differ in the way I feel about the death of Tim Russert. I'm not saying that other deaths haven't had an impact on me, or that a celebrities death is any more or less important than any other, but I don't think I can put his death into words.. I honestly don't see how.
Tim Russert May 7, 1950 - June 13, 2008
I Love Politics, I even like some politicians.
This was just a small excerpt from the episode of 'Meet The Press' that was Aired the Sunday after his death.. just two days later. I can't even count how many times I've already watched that full episode, or 'his' final episode which he was so happy about. He had finally gotten together all the top political analysts and people covering the various campaigns. They had a huge round table episode. He was like a kid in a candy store, and was SO excited for this fall.
Ever since I was a kid, politics was just amazing to me. I loved and just took to it. It was one of the things I think I got from my mother. Having a healthy understanding of 'the news' and what's going on in the world. The history of politics, the silliness and stupidity of some of it, the way it works... er... doesn't work! Just all of it. Politics' long coloful history, it's roots, beliefs and core ideals that helped form the different parties are all part of what led me to my other love, 'Human Evolution' and the discussion of 'why we are the way we are'. The arguments between the sides, etc.. (Ugh, getting a 'Church v State' headache)
Tim Russert had, in every fiber of his being, that love of it all. He was a tough, honest, brilliant, informed, and kind man. He had a huge heart which he allowed us all to see. He had some tough interviews over the years, some endearing, loving moments... and he soaked in every minute of it. He asked the questions we all were thinking.. and always got an answer.. never ever letting his personal political views and ideals slant any interview, keeping it fair. His goal was to get to the truth.. get the information that we needed to know. That's all!
He had a love of life, and deep love for his family. He was a deeply religious man, and I've learned over the years that I have no problem with religion as long as it exists under the motto of 'live and let live'
I'm not doing a good job of saying what I want, I know I'm not because I'm still writing and trying to explain how sad I am, how sick and horrible I feel about his death, how that of all the public figures who've died over the years, his is the first where I've felt deep sorrow, which just wont go away.
I miss him. I miss his tough interviews. I miss the way he would put it all together, answering those little nagging questions we all had on our minds. I miss his brilliance when he would say something we all didn't know we were already thinking till he said it! I miss his funny, perceptive live on-air moments. I miss the way he would light up in delight at the most perfect moments. I miss his famous big head and wonderful smile. I miss his boy-like enthusiasm. I just miss him.
"If it's Sunday, it's Meet The Press"
Tim Russert, you meant so much to me, and you'll always be in my heart.
I haven't been tagged for anything in over a year, then twice in the last few days. So, I've given in and decided to just combine it into one really lame blog.
In the first, I was told to give ten 'random' facts about myself, and in the other I was to give ten 'strange' facts. I don't really see the difference, so here it is.
1. Till the day I graduated from high school, I had only ever cut school one time. When I arrived home that afternoon I got into trouble for not leaving a note saying where I was going due to the fact that we were off that day. If you know me, then you know this is something that would totally happen to me.
2. For whatever reason, I'm able to do some neat tricks with cigarettes and am the master at blowing smoke-rings. (I'm real proud of that one. It's going onto my resume')
3. I don't like chocolate, and if you put crunchy celery in my tuna salad, I'll hurl.
4. The mere thought of Carly Simon's voice makes me cringe.
5. My name is NOT Amanda. I'm Mandi Lauren, named after my grandfather Emanuel 'Manny' Lawrence. Somehow over time, my name evolved into 'Panda' and nobody in my close immediate family has called me anything other than that or 'Pand' since the time I was about 5. Because of this, everywhere we go, people think my name is Pam.
6. When I was in school, I did phone sex for a semester to make extra money and quit when I felt like vomiting every time the phone rang. (It was good money if you have the stomach for it and don't mind the night terrors)
7. I have Synesthesia, I vividly see every sound I hear. I didn't even realize there was a name for it until about a year ago.
8. I was raised by Jewish lesbians who celebrated Christmas. My mom and Linda were together for 22 years till my mom died, and my dad lives with a woman who, like me, graduated from high school in 1990.. GO TEAM DAD!
9. My very first memory was when my parents were outside trying to sell our Green Gremlin and I ran out in my diapers and screamed "Don't buy that piece of shit, it doesn't work"! (true story)
10. Every single time I go outside, I look up into the sky... cause you never do know.
Now I guess I'm to tag ten people, but I think everyone should go ahead and do it.
I was just going through some tapes... Yes, I like tapes.. I know tapes, they work for me. Anyhow, I was looking through one from about 3 weeks ago to find an episode of LOST before the new one came on and I must’ve set it early... or late... or something, but I caught the most comedically almost -tragic thing..
BREAKING NEWS:
"Gee, if that airplane CAN’T get it’s wheels to come ajar from that horrifyingly looking 20 degree angle all those people will crash and die a slow, painful, video taped death! The pilots are HIGHLY trained for these kinds of situations... but we DO have the cameras fixed on that plane so that if it DOES crash and burn, we can show it on a loop, at the top of every news break, and at the top of every hour so my ratings will SKYROCKET!!!! Then I can become the recipient of The Employee of the Week Plaque and maybe even be awarded the GRAND PRIZE of excessive teeth whitening. Reporting live, This is Snarky McSmugly... from the scene of the impending crash... that we will have LIVE, WHEN it happens ... Ohhhh, this is a shame.. Bob, back to you..."
Okay, maybe I"m summarizing a little..
All I could think about were the poor schmucks on the plane who obviously had to be getting some kind of info from the pilot as to the reason why they’ve been circling the airport for the last 52 minutes while doing the occasional touch-n-go in some feeble attempt at shaking that front wheel loose. That pilot knew that all those people on this BIG ASS commercial airliner were watching the very same newscast I was on the back of the seat of the asshole in front of them who can’t decide between upright and recline. You HATE that guy!
Wow, so I keep watching this. Watching... still watching. Watch to the end where they all land safely.
I’d remembered seeing this on the news when it happened as a blurb during some news break and thought what we all do at times, ’Damn, that sucks’
I couldn’t help thinking about the people on that plane. What they must have been questioning at that moment. It had to’ve been like an out of body experience.
A Real Life Out-of-Body Experience, captured LIVE, on National News.
Think about it.. You’re on a plane. You’re glad you’ve finally gotten through the hassle of waking up at 5 for your 9am flight... then THIS SHIT!!! What would be going through your head?? My god! ’What’s gonna happen to me? I feel so out of control’ You’re watching the plane that you’reon... LIVE. You can see the helicopters filming you, they’ve swarmed like vultures! You’re watching your very own possible demise and are being assured that your pilot is highly trained for these kinds of situations by a guy who wants to get his teeth whitened for free. But somehow it does assure you, cause it’s really all you’ve got!.
I guess it’s his or her job to report it as they see it, but do they have to be so excited? I know they’re human and want all to end well. But I know they’re human and a disaster caught on tape during their time slot would make them popular for a week or so.
I began to think about how that reporter must have felt high for reporting from the scene of where newscasters are born... but waiting to feel even higher... the crash would be that high! A moment where they shine, and the world becomes theirs. Their very first Snuff Film. Silly I guess, but I suddenly thought about the ’Guitar Hero’ episode of South Park with the video game where they try to capture dragon flying through the forest, but never do.. even when conditions seemed right. If they were to get the dragon, that disaster... it wouldn’t be enough. Now the bar is set higher. They may get that moment where they top the last, but then then recalibration becomes their bitch.
I guess they... we, haven’t lost our souls. If you have nothing ahead of you, you have nothing to chase. It’s in all of us to some degree ... I guess. Part of being human..or something.
I just had to get that out.
Currently
listening
:
Blind
By
The Sundays
Release date: 20 October, 1992
Drunks are People Too
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Life
re-written, re-hash
Merlot For Added Honesty.
It truly amazes me the things we tend to recall about a certain person, group of people, or situation we encountered growing up. Things that years later we feel almost a little silly for how we interpreted them at the time. Like when I was little my dad saved two turtles from I95 and named them 'Sandy' and 'Chowder'. It didn't occur to me till years later why that was funny. And I never understood why daddy's best friend had a really long pinkie nail.
I know we all have these moments where things become clear and it all just seems to make sense. During all that time you spend thinking, you begin to search for the reason why sometimes you'd rather just stay home, have a few drinks, and think about life in general. I guess it's the thought of dealing with other people. People like you and me that all have their shit too!
It took me a while, but I eventually realized that we're all just the result of many many years worth of shit! We're all in some way fucked by life or in fear of impending punishment that REALLY should have come by now. Or just in fear from 'all things past'. Those things have an out of the blue way of making their presence known!
When I was about six or eight, I used to think the teacher slept at school and had a wardrobe of similarly awful clothes for the next day hidden in that drawer where she just put my plastic Halloween fangs which I could get back with a note from my mother!. I remember thinking that you had to be a teacher for your breath to smell THAT bad!
I used to think that football players had really big shoulders. It wasn't that they were freaks of nature it was more like I remember growing up in Pittsburgh during the time the Steelers dominated the NFL (only,for real). I thought Lynn Swan and Rocky Blier had large symmetrical shoulders because that was the way football players were born!
At one point my sister had me believing that black women breast fed chocolate milk. I didn't believe that one for long though.
I also thought The Guy we all knew growing up was just another drunk.
This is the guy you've known your entire life. It doesn't matter where you grew up or how you were raised. There's always THE GUY who was sitting on a bench, standing behind you in line somewhere, or finishing a smoke outside of the news stand so he go he could get his scratch-off tickets and 12 pack. He'd get the beer for sure and the tickets if he could find enough money in his pocket. He'd walk back outside, find a flat surface then scratch those fuckers like they had crabs and 30 seconds to live!
He was only known for some crazy thing he was suppose to have done and refered to by a single name which usually had some adjective in front of it. It was always something like something like 'Crazy Bob' or 'Hairless Pete'. Sometimes he was known as a simple phrase like "Crazy Bus Man" or "Stinky Fruit Guy"! You were never quite sure if he was homeless but KNEW he wasn't payin' rent! He looked as though he just walked out of the drunk tank on Barney Miller, but on his way to visit his old friend Ted Bundy.
Those two had some wild and crazy times back in the day!
I remember seeing him in front of the news stand. Sometimes I'd walk there in the evenings to get my mom's smokes or stop in after school with my friends to get our smokes since it was the only place that would sell to us. Plus they had Galaga.
Well, I'm still figuring it all out, but teachers also have bullshit lives, and football players aren't really freaks of nature...
....and the guy we all knew growing up WAS a drunk! A drunk unlike any other. An actual skin, bone and 'issue laden' screw-up living inside a self created situation just like everyone.
I clearly recall the day I realized that we're all just an incidental BLIP on the radar that measures how and when all life came to be, as well as its undoing! The one that marks us as a mere 'annotation'
to be referred to someday in some Bizzaro World classroom text where the teaching and 'lessons learned' are probably still that Jesus Christ is your savior (but you don't need to know why)
This little freakadelic measuring system will be here for billions of years and will continue to do its job while we measure time by the way every situation may effect us. And surely we'll still be running our add campaigns in the name of things for our children's sake, but not necessarily for their childrens'.
I remember the actual moment that this all sort of CLICKED in my mind. I had just turned 18 and walked into West Coast Video with a good friend. He wanted to check out the games while I went to find Harold and Maude.
We met back up at the counter and HE...THAT GUY was in front of us. It was the only time the two of us ever connected eyes. I was a little startled (but never shy) and simply said "Hi". He said "You're gonna love that film". I replied "Ya, It's my favorite, but Ron's never seen it so..."
He was done with his rental. Paid, picked up his bag, turned to me and just said "Have a good night Mandi"
WOW! Mandi's mind goes into overload with 'Hu's"? and "How's"? and ...."HU'S"??
I went home and for some reason couldn't get that exchange out of my mind. "How did he know my name"? What made him comment on my rental... never acknowledging that the other movie we rented was The Goonies? Or at least didnt give his Oscar Picks for it!!
The simple act of him renting a movie was enough to shake me awake and realize we are ALL just people doing our day to day thing. Every moment of our lives is just trying to one-up the way we were living it yesterday. Every moment of every day is living inside our own 'self-created situation'.
Hmm.
I never did know what film he rented. I wonder about him sometimes when talking to old friends or driving through the area where I grew up, which is like some foreign land now. All I can think is how much I'd love to know what movie he got that day.
Strange.
He sounds familiar, doesn't he?
Currently
listening
:
Letter from Home
By
Pat Metheny Group
Release date: 07 February, 2006
Everything Beautiful Turns to Suck
Current mood: sick
Category: Life
First, I'm a little stoned. It's about 6am and I can't sleep, mind racing and at times, taunting me with thoughts of happiness and that firemans ladder which keeps me looking to the entrance of this immense hole Im in. That stupid ladder's been there for a while, but like the door that only swings one way. What a fucked up concept that is.
About 3 weeks ago I make the announcement to my family that my husband and I had filed for divorce. My dad asks, "What brought this on"? All I could think to say was that 14 years of marriage must have had something to do with it.
It's so strange to think how something once so amazing and beautiful could just end. What was I supposed to tell my dad? Oh, C'mon, most of you have been there, 'it's ending' and you know everyone around you, friends, family, acquaintances, etc will all have their own opinion as to the 'why'. The things family think are usually the furthest from the truth. No point in trying to correct them either. You could never sum up 14 years of life into an explanation they don't really wanna fucking hear anyhow. I told my 14 year old cousin that I came home one day and was surprised to find 13 donkeys and a mud-wresting ring in the basement and decided it was time to leave. Poor kid thought it was cool. They don't give a shit. They wanna hear about 18 to 24 seconds. After that, the quiche they hated 20 minutes ago suddenly looks like the only drop of food on earth, "Oh bless your heart Mandi, but I think I'm sobering up now".
Then I think about how I'm glad my moms not alive to see this. But only because I couldn't deal with taking care of her too. She was one of those people who would find a way to turn it into 'her divorce'. Still a little part of me wishes I missed her enough to want her here. On the 7th year after her death, I've learned I'm not the only one who's struggled with being a little glad she's not around.
Aren't you glad you clicked on this blog? Okay, not stoned anymore.
Fourteen years ago I was in school renting a room in an off campus house. If you've EVER had roommates, you know a little about where this is going.
There was the one roommate we referred to as 'Downwind Dogsmell Girl'. You always knew when she was coming. This was a woman who was our age and just newly graduated with an MSW from Pitt, and already working a social worker. (This is why therapy scares me). She looked JUST like the brainy chick from Scoobie Doo, but possessed like Chuckie. She never said a word and always smelled like a poopy dog. She had no dog, but did have a deaf cat named Banji that would attack me every morning as I stumbled out to take my shower. There were a lot of other issues as well, so eventually we did the progressive college kids thing to do at the time and had an intervention to be-rid of her forever. Wasn't this a popular theme back when The Real World came on and had weepy heartfelt expulsions from the house? Oh, give me a fucking break!
There was 'Loud Sex Girl'..... (No, they had another name for me) This was the girl who was oddly beautiful and had Spock eyebrows. We knew absolutely nothing about her. She came in late at night and left early in the morning, that is when she did come home. She'd arrive with her boyfriend who we all would drool over. They'd walk past us just saying hello and simply go upstairs. We'd all look at each other and laugh because we knew in about 20 minutes this girl was gonna break into her trio of orgasms. Hey, no batteries required!
There were others too. Some I'm still friends with now. I loved this time in my life. Coming home, listening to music, watching movies with my roommates, and around this time there was a bong that was considered to be the 'house bong'. It was a GIANT red bong that had been there since the Inquisitions but nobody ever laid claim to it. It just 'was'. There were two years of revolving roommates that would make their mark, good and bad. But then there was him.
He moved in one morning as I was leaving for the airport to visit family over spring break. We had about a 3 minute conversation while I waited for my ride and I remember our eyes never lost contact. We were transfixed on one another. I wasn't really all that attracted to him physically but was incredibly drawn to his amazing presence.
So, I'm sitting on the plane that morning and I couldn't get him out of my head. I felt sick, unsettled. Then out of the blue I literally go into hysterics at suddenly getting a reference he'd made concerning one of our roommates obsession with 'Alien Autopsy'. This he'd noticed in the 4 minutes he'd been there that day. It was just such a subtle, highbrow reference too that it hit me like a truck. I'm not usually too slow on the uptake, and I loved that I was that day. I loved that I was the last to get a joke. Be still my heart, he's Smart and Clever. 'Thump, thump'.
I'd been gone about 4 days and had been putting off calling to get my messages, so I do. Spock girl answers the phone and I leave the number where I'm staying. About an hour later the phone rings, It's him. My god! I assume there's some message or something. The first thing he says is, "Who are you and why can't I get you out of my head, and did you know your roommates are all COMPLETELY insane"? All I could do was laugh. We talked for only a short time, as I had to go out soon. But he knew when I'd be home.
I arrived back in Pittsburgh and saw the most amazing thing on the plane. I'd taken that same flight no less than 100 times in all kinds of weather but never saw such a thing at several thousand feet. It was sunset as we made our approach to the airport. I began to get butterflies in my stomach at thought of seeing him soon. I had my eyes closed, then opened them to see the entire cabin of the plane totally encased in some sort of spectrum. We must have been at the right angle and the right altitude for just a few short moments that made the inside of the plane look like some cosmic acid trip. Even the dickhead who wouldn't shut up the entire time was in awe of something that was maybe just a little more important than himself.
I walk up the stairs to my front door, go to my room and was in the shower within about 10 minutes of arriving home. I get comfortable, take a deep breath then knock on his door. We picked up where we'd left off. I had been nervous walking in, but we just moved towards each other and began to kiss. Then several hours of making love. Even looking back at it now I believe that's what it was. We fell in love that night. The chemistry was too strong and there was so much beauty and sweetness there too. He'd touch me, I'd quiver. And I'd never met anyone who made me laugh so hard by making a simple obvious observation. And he knew I dug that he was the only one who got my jokes. I still maintain that Letterman should never have left NBC.. I'll leave it at that. We got together shortly before Buk died. I remember that too.
Three weeks later, we eloped. That was 14 years ago. And it just really fucking sucks. Just too many things to fix that are beyond repair. Too much history. Just too much of everything. We were young and in love. When it's beautiful like it was, you feel unstoppable, and for a while we were. Strange, 14 years of marriage and I only swore at him twice. Yep, it's true. But lets count how many times I've said FUCK in this blog. Don't know how I really feel about this ending. Maybe a little relieved. But I guess a little sad too. How could I not be? We've been pretty much separated for almost two years, but living together in some kind of Bizarro World roommate arrangement.
In hindsite, staying together all those years for the sake of the cats was probably not the best idea. So, I'm moving out of state on November 1st and have a good job. (would rather keep those details private for now). I feel sick at the thought that he'll be keeping the cats. I'd love to take them but I can't right now. All I can think about is that after my mom died, her dog sat on the porch for 6 months waiting for her to come home. I honestly don't know how I'll fall asleep without Linus on my belly and I worry if he'll hear when Linus has an asthma attack at night. Will he snuggle with Linus at night? Fuck! this sucks!.. And why did it cost me 27 dollars to get married but this divorce is gonna break me? That doesn't seem right either.
Oh ya, since I'm spilling my guts here I may as well just let it all out. I promised a few friends I would get the balls to write this one day, so I may as well do it now. There's no way to really say this without it sounding like 'woe is me', so I'm just gonna say it. I have a severe cardiovascular blood clotting disorder I've been fighting since I was 14. I have clots in my femoral and popliteal arteries (both sides) as well as arteries in my feet, arms and torso. Clots in veins, constant phlebitis, and occasional DVT's. All surgeries had proven unsuccessful as the clots tend to grow back larger. I've been everywhere from The Mayo Clinic and back again. No known cause, no known cure. It causes a lot of pain and has gotten progressively worse over the last few years. I've been lucky in that the clots that have broken off to my lungs have been small enough to dissolve in time. Stints are no longer an option as any sort of even slightly invasive surgery causes more irritation and clot buildup. Ahh. There I said it. Why? So many people on here know drips and drabs of my medical condition, and when I disappear for days at a time, they know I'm probably in the hospital. But it occurs to me that I have so many friends on here who know little about me except the odd blog comment. I figure buried in a blog like this. A blog I know probably only my regular readers would most likely sit through, I get to tell you. (I only say that so anyone new doesn't think I'm all gloom and doom. Haha!) It's something I guess I had to say. You want to know me? Well this is a HUGE part of who I am.
There. Okay. I'm done.
(and I know this still needs editing... oh well)
We'll just chalk this one up...
Currently
listening
:
Blind
By
The Sundays
Release date: 20 October, 1992
DELIVERANCE: Dawning of the Double-Wide
Current mood: cynical
Category: Writing and Poetry
First there was light. Then a few ice ages. Then a few natural disasters, which at the time were much more beautiful than they were a pain collective in our 'Borg like' ass.....
Then, there were the Beer Swilling, But Scratching, Burp Blasting, Kin Pumping, Projectile Snot Launching folks who moved in right across the hall from me. And thus the beginning of 'The Crazy Crazy Deliverance Fun- House Gang'. This is the small and rather scary family that moved into my building and quickly became the subect of all my Deliverance blogs.
They always find a way to give me hours of endless entertainment.. as well as secure my theory that we really should be able to steralize the water supply as we see fit.
You know how you'll half-hear a conversation, just enough to insure that it's of a 'car-wreck' in nature? There's always a phrase like..."...ya, that ketchup bottle was really wedged in there... poor Jim." You know you must run for the door that will block out the vocal vibration.. .but you do it slowly then get caught up in the conversation and suffer too. Kinda like the guy that rear-ends an 18 wheeler because he was staring at the fender-bender on the other side of the highway. In 'these here parts' that shit's caught on video. We 'bottle-rocket scientists of the back-woods' feed a steady supply of material to the MAX-X Video production department. OH, you didn't know this?
This explains all the missing limbs, teeth, cars, dogs, wives, etc. It was once thought that inbreeding and 'stupid' were to blame for all the disfigurements. Not the case at all! They plan these stunts, film them, then get a certificate to Wal-Mart where they get more supplies, potted meat, and a pair of flip flops in the isle where they sell both oranges and underwear. Oh ya! I'm surprised you didn't know that! It was part of the 'Springer,Wal-Mart, MAX-X act of 2004'. Larry the Cable Guy was part of the talks that started this act, but he soon realized that making fart jokes was where the money was at. It pays much better than the 'Gut-Bustingly Funny Tragedies' video circuit. And less legal issues too I'd imagine. Okay, some pain and suffering!
Jeff Foxworthy was never considered.
So out of context half sentences and partial phrases is what living next to these people is like. Every encounter with them leaves me wondering; 'Hu'? Like in past stories.. How the fuck DID he get the boot off the car?* Why was stapling a bunch of papers together enough of a traumatic event that a stapler was 'rocket launched' over the balcony where I was sitting?* Did the concept of paper with funny symbols frighten them? The God's Must Be Crazy.., 'Throw the evil binder of words off the edge of the Earth'. That'll learn em'!
Okay, back to the story that spawned this blog.
The Forth of July comes once a year. Where I live it starts mid June and lasts till the end of July when the fireworks run out, or till someone loses and eye. They be's a patriotic people!
So, the fireworks started around here... I guess it could've been gufire, but I don't think so. The nightly blasts usually start around 3 or 4 am. I'm guessing after the bars close and they do that drunken chesty-man walk home. It's usually 1 or 2 BIG blasts and a few 'WoooHoo's' followed by the 'abandoned dog quartet' that lives down below. Poor doggies.
My apartment is actually pretty cool and most of the 'Deliverance Folly' is when I look out of my balcony. I practically have theater seats for nightly airings of Jerry Springer trials and MAX-X production shot's. When I step onto the deck and look down, first there's a good 4 or 5 hundred yards of woods, spilling out onto the little 'town' below. I can see it all best in the fall to spring months when the leaves are all stripped away, but still have a pretty good seat for the summer months. Police chases at night are really cool to watch through the trees. And if the cable's out, there'll be quite the Cops episode going on down there.
The first night the fireworks began Pammy, (my friend downstairs), called and just started cracking up over the phone. "Here we go again"!!
I only moved in a few years ago but've gotten used to the 'timing' of things in my area... as everyone does. The blasts were a familiar sound that only produced a startle from us on the first night. After that, we knew they'd be around for a while.
The first day after this all began, I had a day that was supposed to be a day to myself . 'Yay Me'! ....pfft!!! I tried. I REALLY tried to have a day ALL to myself!!!!
Lemme tellya a little story...
I wake up about 4am because I'm on no sort of human type sleep schedule. I go to the kitchen and make myself a bean burrito in the microwave (not recomended). I find my way back to the bedroom, where it's just me.
Okay... I had a few drinks like 6 hours before, which explains the burrito. I'm a little horny, but don't feel like exerting any 'real' energy. So, I reach for the remote. Ugh!! 'anti-masturbation' if I ever heard it.
Uhhhh 'CLICK'
"...It was a total mystery how the little boy got his head wedged deep inside .."
'CLICK'
"HI I'M BILLY MAIZE AND I'M SCREAMING AT YOU"
'C, C, CLICK'
"...and she was never heard from again..."
..Oooo!! Bill Curtis....I don't care what it is. His voice makes me all happy inside. Ugh, Commercial.
'CLICK'
"..Oh Roseane"
'CLICK.. CLICK..."
"..My wife says I'm not as disgusting to her as I used to be.
'CLICK'
"It's Girls Gone Wild... 'SNUFF EDITION: Girls in the East River'. This time they've gone too far.."
Ugh! Can't.... handle.... more.. TV .... Must. Take. Shower.
At around 7am I take my shower, get some stuff done I had carefully put off doing till that morning. My goal; 'Get tasks done so I can go back to exerting all my energy doing nothing'. It takes a lot more energy than you think to sit and do absolutely nothing at all. But I seem to find a way.
Ahhh.. Tasks completed. Now I can sit and maybe read? Maybe I can call a friend and talk for a few? Na, the telephone frightens me with it's strange tones and wiley ways. I KNOW!!! Ooo! I'll..... What the...
"BANG... CRASH...THUD..'OH DANGIT' CHOKKER .. (Rolling Sound?)". And out of my visual field, surely there was some self sac adjustments and an unwashed child in the area! They were obviously just getting in from the night before.
Then I heard one of the most bizarre things that ever, literally, forced its way into my auditory canal... and ruined my day off because all I could do was sit and obsess.
After the initial Bangs and Thuds outside, they begin to walk up the stairs leading to their apartment which are also right in front of my door. And all I hear is the husband say to his wife;
"I don't know what you think Super-Glue will do. Those Jumping Jacks changed my mother"
Ooooh! My poor head! I've started to learn to tune it out.. Will there be a feature on MAX-X soon that will tell me what happened to mom? What did fireworks have to do with it? SUPER-GLUE? Ooooh! My poor head!
And what the fuck was the rolling sound?
Here's some of what started the Deliverance ramblings in the first place! ;)
CSI: Idiot / Amnesia or Wishful Thinking?
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
Excerpts of blogs past because I'm in a really cynical mood today.
FIRST: "CSI:Idiot"
I really liked CSI when it first came out but then I soon realized the show was written as if all the investigators were 3 year olds.....
(And insert disturbing animated graphics where you see fit)
Idiot A: "Make sure you don't trample on that pile of blood on the carpet"
Idiot B: "Right, because if I do that I'll get blood on my shoes possibly compromising the crime scene with the unique pattern on the soles. As you know, every set of shoes has its own unique pattern due to the different ways in which people wear out there shoes"
Idiot A: "Exactly, and if that happens we could compromise the entire case because any half decent defense attorney could claim that the scene was not secured before we collected the evidence"
Idiot B: "Right and if that happens...we could compromise the entire case"
Idiot A: "Right, and if we compromise the case, we compromise the reputation of our investigators"
Idiot B: "Right, and if we compromise the reputations of our investigaters, we could compromise any case we testify in after this"
Idiot A: "Right, So lets not do that"......
Idiot A: "Hey, Look over here"
Idiot B: "That looks like it could be a bodily fluid that hit the lampshade with force"
Idiot A: "Right, and as we know, any bodily fluid that can hit a vertical surface at that angle and still manage not to slide right off must have been made while the emissior of the fluid was standing at somewhere around 33 degree angle"
Idiot B: "Right, and the spot on the shade devoid of the emission suggests there was someones head in the path of the emission"
Idiot A: "Right, so to see if it is a bodily fluid, lets first take a swab and mix it with this purple liquid because if it is infact a bodily emission, the purple fluid will turn orange"
Idiot B: "Right, and if it turns orange....Man, who the fuck wrote our script? Did either of our characters go to school for this"?
Idiot A: "Lets take a scene break and supply our bodies with nutrients"
Idiot B: "Right, lets have lunch now. You know lunch is the second meal of the day...and though it is important, its not as important as breakfast"
Idiot A: "Right, because breakfast is the MOST important meal of the day"
"GrrrrrrRissom"!
NEXT: "Amnesia or Wishful Thinking"
"Like sands through an hour glass, so are the Days...Blaaa..vomit"
I'm flipping around the channels and decide MSNBC has made sure that I once again feel ashamed to be among the apes which have evolved this far. I come across a soap opera, Days of Our Lives I think. I leave it on for a moment and hearing about 2 or 3 minutes of dialogue, I decide that maybe my life isn't so bad. I mean, I haven't died more than twice, I've never had amnesia, and I'm not my own sister or mother through some chain of events that lead me to somehow marry my former roommates mothers dog. To be fair to the writers, I'm sure the dog represented itself as a handsome businessman from somewhere where they manufacture accents. "Le Woof"!.. I mean "Bon Bark"!
Deciding I've had enough I mute it while I continue the task of being put on hold by Verizon. In their defense, I don't think they know they're stupid. So, I'm listening to Tijuana Taxi in "elevator Form" and it suddenly dawns on me that over my 34 years of life I've seen a combined total of about 4 or 5 minutes of soap operas and cant think of a single time where amnesia wasn't mentioned.
So, this gets the wheels turning..first you should know that PETA was getting concerned for the hamster, so the wheel in my head is now solar powered. I guess the poor thing wasn't getting enough 'enrichment activities'.
Anyhow, Amnesia. So, I start thinking that if amnesia were really that common, (or at least that commonly diagnosed), You'd have a nation full of people who fake a knock on the head so they can live with the cute girl who runs the Cappuccino cart outside of the office building where they know longer work because they don't remember being a Shrink.
Eventually they would get tired of her and go back to 'The Wife' and job claiming , "It's a miracle!! I remember"!
LAST: :"Game Shows"
"BLA BLABLABLA..C"MON DOWN...YOUR THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON.."WHO HAS NO SHAME"?
Now, when I was little we had Bob, ( fix your pets ), Barker, Dance Fever, The GONG Show, Family Fued, and OH MY FAVORITE.."Lets Make a Goddam Deal"
Now, as a child, I understood the concept of the game and I understood that part of it was those costumes. It wasn't till years later that I realized that not everybody keeps an egg in their purse. You know; keys, lipstick, wallet, Valium, condoms, and 'an egg'
I think that game shows should give prizes that people seem to need these days.
"Mr. Smith... CongraBulations!...You are the proud new winner of a 3 night stay at the local DETOX facility where we made extra sure you would be patronized and talked down to by all.
You will then be moved up to the bible thumping section of your experience where they'll do everything possible to make sure you go crazy if you weren't already. Then after a few days you will be 'Fit for society' and left a the nearest crack corner...GOOD LUCK" !
"Oh, Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones...oh, so sorry we couldn't give your daughter that kidney...maybe next time..Rod, tell him what he does get"
"Well Mr Jones. You get some Lee Press-On Nails, a medium sized bag of Puppy Chow and a gift certificate to the Olive Garden, where there you're family"
"Noooooo! Not FAMILY!.."!
Currently
reading
:
Ask the Dust (P.S.)
By
John Fante
Release date: 07 February, 2006
Is it just me, or is it just a tree?
Current mood: impressed
Category: Life
How self centered are we?
I found this beautiful photograph on a friends page about a month ago. In that time it's made me wonder about so many things that may seem silly to some, but it's just the way my mind works I guess.
There's no denying that when you look at it, you see a ballerina. Or the posed silhouette of a beautiful female figure. But why? Are we that self centered? It's just a tree after all.
We all remember looking thru the car window as children to see figures in the clouds. Sometimes big fluffy bunnies...sometimes sinister clown faces. (By the way, ALL clown faces are sinister...just thought I'd clear that up). We'd usually point out the cumulus artwork to someone else around us. Sometimes they'd see it. Sometimes they'd say they see something completely different, then slug us to stay on our own side of the car seat just loud enough to piss off mom while she was driving. Okay, maybe that was just me. Fuckin' Punchbuggies!
So, back to the tree. Why do we all see this seductive beautiful figure in the tree? Is it really just a freak occurrence of nature? Did the tree somehow make itself look like one of us so we'd take notice and pause for a moment to really see it? 'A tree'! Something that in itself is a wonder of nature. One that's usually overlooked except when clearing a forest or leveling out some landscaping disaster.
For me, the beauty of THAT tree, the true amazement of nature in general produces something in me that happens when I can't find the words to describe an overwhelmingly peaceful moment. It's something I've refered to in the past as "saying 'hu' as with stomach muscles alone".
I'm actually not delusional. I know it's just a tree. But it's nice to think it could be more.
CACTUCIDE: An Ode to Jose'
Current mood: crazy
Category: Life
Ahh! Freakin' Now What?
It was about 7 this morning, and I was just starting to stir. Every morning around sunrise and for a few hours after, both my cats will sit in front of the balcony door and watch the squirrels and birds that visit the food I've left out. It's 'cat TV', surely better than anything I find on TV.
I hear the normal sounds of them getting excited, followed by thuds which over I time I've learned represent the fact that a glass door is a concept still misunderstood by all involved. Sorry, but it is kinda funny.
Then I hear a "Crash-Thud"! Oh, this can't be good. Now what? Did they knock over the printer again? Did they get into something else? Am I gonna have to clean up dirt from one of the plants again and hope the root's still intact? I hope it was just the cat-grass, that shit's been dead for weeks!
I slowly get up, brain all discombobulated with the early hour and the thoughts of what I'll find. I light a smoke, then slowly and reluctantly walk out to the living room.
I approach the sliding door to confirm what I was actually seeing. It's worse than I thought! Jose', my 13 year old cactus that I've had since he was just a little guy, had......been....killed! Victim of 'Cactucide'!
He's been my only living 'constant' for the last 13 years.
CRIME: Cactucide.
VICTIM: Cactus, Jose' The
SUSPECTS: Vincent Van Gogh (the one-eared cat). And Linus Van Pelt (with security mouse).
Pictured here plotting the crime.
aka 'Fat Man' and 'Little Boy'
SUSPECTED ACCOMPLICE: Neighborhood Squirrel.
I NEVER yell at the cats, and didn't! But when I saw this I was almost in tears. They knew it too! I'm sure they were thinking, "Well mom, you know, you really shouldn't have left that there...I'm just sayin"! They already think I'm an idiot. But they love me. So once again, they're off the hook.
Okay, you may think, "Oh, it's just a plant. You can fix him, get another one, or just 'get over it'"! But you don't understand all that Jose' has meant and represented to me.
This past weekend I'm sitting in the livingroom with the glass door wide open. I have the screen door locked, of course, to foil any potential kitty escapes over the railing. It happened once in my old apartment. What an event that was. He was there...then he wasn't! Oh shit! But all was fine.
Anyhow, I sit in the chair by the door reading something, I don't recall what, but it's getting to be about sundown and I hear the silence that only a beautiful evening can instill in you. It was silence the way I think it should be...'no sound but nature'. Any other kind of silence is just deafening to me.
I look over to where the cats are and I actually took a moment to 'take in' the view. Surely there was some Yin & Yang going on that made me feel so 'serene' when looking out to the world I felt was usually against me.
'Jose' the cactus' sits on a table right by the door. Named Jose' from a tag that was in his soil when he first came home. Just a little guy, he was the first plant in one of my new apartments. Looking at him the other day I noticed how amazingly resilient he was. He was over 2 feet tall and had curves, dents, twists and angles. Each section of 'curve change' marked his progress while living in each given apartment. Sometimes I'd joke when referring to a skinny section that that apartment sucked for everyone! His shape was part of his personality. It made me think of the way a woman developes her curves, often they're very telling of the life she's lived.
'Constants' are things that for better or worse, bring about an eerily comfortable security to me. Another one is just over the balcony where there's a bunch of huge pine trees. When I first moved in here a few years ago it was spring and the balcony door was always open. The first day here I noticed what looked like 'cocoons' on a branch of one of the trees. Through the next several months they would begin to look more like pods. As the seasons changed they turned all different colors, sizes, texture, etc. I kept thinking that they had to be a pinecones. What else makes sense? This went on for well over two years. They never seemed to change into anything, but were fascinating all the same.
Then, the other day I looked and noticed they were in fact pinecones. My god! They took that long to form? How amazing that was to me! I remember also being a little disappointed that the mystery was over too.
I can reach out and touch them from my balcony, but don't. Somehow I think I may jinx the 'cool'.
When they drop, I'll take one though for sure.
Well, I spent a good hour or so tonight trying to find a way to save Jose'. I came up with a contraption that might work. Maybe it's only an 'Attempted Cactucide' after all. We'll see.
And how could I stay mad at the cats?
Currently
listening
:
Hat Trick
By
America
Release date: 19 January, 1999
Thou Shalt Not ‘Drunk’ and ‘MySpace’.
Current mood: busy
Category: MySpace
You know how you'll plug something into the wall and you have that moment where you get zapped but aren't quite sure if you got electrocuted?
Something happened that fateful day a little over a year ago because I, Mandi Lauren Something or Other joined MySpace.
Now, I wouldnt say in all that time that MySpace has filled some hole in my life, but there sure are extra fillers that weren't there before! And I really don't know why I write about it so much. I think I'm just fascinated with the way it's literally changed so many aspects of our lives. Ever since day one I was totally memorized by it's dynamic.
Just 'Friend Requests' alone! Think about it. If some guy in ballon pants walked up to you on the street and said, "Joey Buttafuoco wants to be your friend" you'd go into hysterics. Maybe run. Send a message?
I think the only times I actually hit 'deny' is after the photoless request gets deleted by MySpace. Usually I won't do anything if I really don't wanna add someone.
What would we have done without all the groups that collect toys from 50 or 60 years ago. Or without all the cartoon characters that make us smile when we add them. And we can't forget all the bands. Some we felt sorry for. Just some. But you can't deny the FACT that you've met some really cool people and eventually settled in to about 5 to 15 people that you communicate with on a regular basis. The ones who have your real e-mail address and the few you talk to on the phone sometimes. Even I have to admit there's friendship to be found on here.
In my travels here on MindSpace Its become all too clear to me that looking at someones profile really isnt very telling about them at all. Even if they fill in whether they smoke or drink!
Imagine that.....pfffffft..!
Strange, I put yes/yes and that really isn't all that true. I like to drink but don't really do it all that often. I think the last time I really drank was around Easter. (He didn't show, I was crushed) So do I leave it blank? Say yes?
Anyhow, something must have happened to all of us to explain why we had that prerequisite short in the brains central circuit system which led us to the MySpace domain of 'comedic tragedies' and surrealistic Bizarro World dramas.
From Day One I didn't understand how all these people decided who was friend worthy. Or Top Eight worthy, That's a whole other issue. I could write a thesis on the my MySpace 'Top Eight' theory. Don't worry, I wont.
So, I thought it might be fun to re-write some steps of the 'sign up' process in such a way that you wont get stuck going back over and over again to 'edit profile'. I've included most of the 'sections' or 'input questons' as they're written, but I've changed the options a bit.
Also, I've included some tips for the poor schmuck just sighing in for the first time who will no doubt be thrilled at that very first log in when they see they have a message, only to find it's from TOM.
TOM. The first of many times that very name will lead to complete disapointment as well as become a household swear word in the coming weeks...days....what time is it?
I've also included my 'Golden Rule'.
MySpace Edit Profile.
Gender:
Please select a gender.
(Okay, then include it all Tom!)
- Male
- Female
- Both
- Somewhere in between
- It's complicated
- Not sure
Date of Birth: Okay there. You're 100 anyhow.
Occupation:
Occupation must be less than 50 characters.
- Not a problem!
City: Okay, no problem here...
City must have less than 50 characters. (???) Where the fuck do you live? In OhMyGodILiveInaVanDownByTheRiver-istan???
Ethnicity: Whoa! Where'd that come from all of a sudden? Go for it!
Body Type:
- Disgusting
- Slim/slender
- More to love
- Athletic (?) Does this mean ' Blaze' or 'Anna Kournikova'? This is important information I'd think!
- Parasitic/conjoined Twin
- Lanky and akward
- Torso
Height: Okay, no problem there. You're an inch tall or 8' 11'.
I am here for:
- Friends
- Dating
- Networking ( ?) Stalking you with my electronic gadgets?
- Your daughter
- Your spouse/significant other
- Mutual webcam masturbation
- I can't cross state lines, so someone in my area.
- I want to make money by filling out surveys
Status:
- Married :)
- Married :(
- Single
- Swinger (?)
- I wont tell if you won't
- It's complicated
- Im not using my real name, so it really doesn't matter.
Sexual Orientation:
- Yes please
- Straight
- Gay/lesbian
- Bi
- Not sure
- Get me drunk and you'll find out
- Girls Gone Wild
- All of the above
- None of the above
Religion:
- Fuck You
Smoker:
- Yes
- No
- Sometimes (?)
- Only when I drink
- Only when I smoke pot
Drinker:
- Yes
- No
- Sometimes (?)
- If only you knew
- Only to get through a family dinner
Pot:
- Yes
- No (yes)
- No
- Sometimes....pffft!
- hu?
Children:
- Proud Parent
- Less than proud parent
- Someday
- Love kids, but not for me (?)
- I don't want kids
- I have no business reproducing
- None that I know of
- The state has my kids
- Two accidents and a step-kid who hates me.
Education: Okay...
- GED
- High School
- College
- Grad School
- I can mix a mean martini
- Edu-macation?
- I don't have 'book smarts'.
- I can count to 'potato'
- Not sure
- I can't remember
- Do anger management classes count?
- This user has no schools
Income:
- Tacky tacky tacky
School Name: Okay, no problem here
Company Name: Okay there..
And there's others too. You get the idea.
Some tips-
- Stay away from the faceless profiles. Ipod or not
- Avoid any profile where there may be the phrase 'Rock On' as part of the headline.
- Read profiles before you add them. Does this need said? I guess so, because I remind myself of that often.
- MySpace Tech Support is really pretty funny. Just ask a friend. I've never written to TOM without the reply being a list of shit that was nothing to do with anything.
- Avoid profiles with that cursor that leaves you wondering if its hovering a link or not. People, I need the little hand.
- Avoid profiles where you can only read the text if you highlight the entire page. This is really annoying.
Then there's my GOLDEN RULE:
Thou Shalt Not 'Drunk' and 'MySpace'.
Bad, bad, bad! Just bad ! It's just comments that you 'cant freaking' believe you left which you're too late to delete. Uhhh, the messages! Friends with whom you've shared way too much info with. And ' For The Love of God' , If you have nudes of yourself hanging around.... Keep em' all on a disk in another room.
sad
nostalgic
sick
cynical
annoyed
impressed
crazy
busy
