Archive for August 2008


August 29, 2008

The lack of “new” posts could be due to the fact that I am sick again and if I post something it will be all about my current disgusting illness and would be infected with descriptive terms such as: “green, Day-Glo snot with the consistency of Elmer’s glue before it dries” and a “hacking cough like a smelly hyena chain smoking non-filtered Marlboro’s on it’s deathbed”.  For some reason in this last year I have contracted every single hybrid influenza, cold, virus and infection that made their rounds through the human population. I used to only get a token cold per year. I thought maybe it was because when I gave birth, I gave my immune system to my baby, but he is sick, too.  This is double gross, because the baby cannot blow his own nose, which is very unpleasant.  This morning he had a dollop of bright green snot in the center of his forehead.  Maybe we are sharing an immune system these days.  At any rate, it sucks and I am over it.


Instead of me going on and on about disgusting illnesses, please enjoy this Lego version of Eddie Izzard’s Cake or Death monologue:







August 25, 2008

Here are two of my very first blog posts ever:


Working at a bar until after 2:00am in the Tenderloin District of San Francisco may have not been the best idea for a young girl lacking in street smarts, especially when having to walk to the bus all by my lonesome in the middle of the dark city night. One night, after getting off work around 3:00 am (I could not leave until all the dishes were done & the condiments refilled) I went and sat on a small, cement bench on Market Street and waited patiently for my bus. Across the street I saw a strange looking man walking in a zigzagged fashion; he was disheveled and obviously missing some marbles. I watched him as he fumbled around, seeming to be looking for some imaginary something. Then he started to cross the street and made a beeline directly to where I was sitting. I felt tense wondering what he was going to do. He walked right up to me and I looked him in the face. He stopped in front of me and held out is hand in the shape of a fist, finger-side-down. For some reason, I held out my hand under his, palm-side-up. He opened his fist and poured a pile of dollars and coins into my open palm and walked away. I closed my fingers around the money and said thank you.




Walking home on a comfortable warm evening, I noticed a kid in his early 20’s going up to people on the sidewalk and saying something to them before they shook their heads and walked away. I overheard him ask one business lady dressed in a skirt, suit jacket and white tennis shoes, if she would buy him a camera. She shook her head and picked up her pace to get away from him. I walked passed him, but instead of speaking to me, he went up to an older man and asked him if he would buy him a leather wallet. The man of course said no and walked away. I lingered so that I would have another chance to walk by the kid in hopes he would speak to me. He was your run-of-the-mill white kid, medium height, mussed, brown hair and freckled face. As I walked passed him for the second time, he leaned my way and asked if I would buy him a Velvet Underground CD. I said: “sure”! I had a bunch of tip money burning a hole in my pocket anyway & I knew it would surprise the kid to get any takers. He said there was a record store a few blocks away, so we walked there together, exchanging names and humorous small talk. I started to fantasize that he would think I was so cool for going along with this and we would become fast friends. I thought about having him come home with me to hang out & get some lunch and explaining to my roommate how we met, having a good laugh over the whole thing. The store did not have any Velvet Underground CD’s, so he wanted to get a Deep Purple album instead. I said, sorry, I agreed to Velvet Underground. So then he asked if he could get a Lou Reed CD and I acquiesced, because it was close enough. After I bought him the CD, he said thanks and took off, our new-found friendship gone forever. I am just glad he did not ask me to buy him a stereo!


August 21, 2008



In the bulk food section at the grocery store, I noticed that they had an array of sugar-free chocolate candy.  I never tried them before but thought I would give it a go and then selected chocolate covered malt balls.  I put my little plastic baggie over the spouting thing, but when I pulled the lever, only half the chocolates that fell ended up in my bag and the other half ended up on the display.  I started nervously scooping them up and then I noticed they also had sugar-free chocolate covered caramels.  I instinctively put my bag around the mouth of the container and poured some of those in there as well.  It was then that I realized that the caramels were $3.00 more per pound than the malt balls and I began to worry.  They were both round in shape, but a slightly different color and size, so the cashier could tell I had two different items in there if he really felt like checking, but I decided no one with half a life would care.


Sure enough I get up to the cash register and the guy totally busts me.  He weighed half the bag at the higher rate and the other half at the lower rate and was nice enough about it, but I still felt like a schmuck.  I did not apologize.


Karma came racing after me, though, because apparently sugar free candy has a hydrogenated form of carbohydrate called sugar alcohols which is an incompletely digestible substances (such as dietary fiber), consumption of sugar alcohols can lead to bloating, diarrhea and flatulence because they are not absorbed in the small intestine. In other words, I ate too much POOP CANDY!

It is hard out there for a Misogynistic Asshole

August 18, 2008

I know this is from last year, but I only just heard about these remarks and was horrified.  In an ELLE interview with actor Terrence Howard:



ELLE: What is one item could you find in a woman’s house that would prove that you weren’t compatible?

TH: Toilet paper—and no baby wipes—in her bathroom.

ELLE: Wait. I don’t think I understand.

TH: If they’re using dry paper, they aren’t washing all of themselves. It’s just unclean. So if I go inside a woman’s house and see the toilet paper there, I’ll explain this. And if she doesn’t make the adjustment to baby wipes, I’ll know she’s not completely clean.

ELLE: What does your ideal woman look like?

TH: I like women who look like me. Generally, you’re ¬attracted to women who look like you, because the most beautiful thing in nature is your own reflection.

ELLE: So…you like a lady with a pencil moustache?

TH: No, but a woman who shares my features.






When asked to redeem himself later in an interview with New York Magazine:



Like when you told Elle magazine that you preferred for women to use baby wipes instead of toilet paper. That got a lot of coverage. Was anything misinterpreted there?

You know, my views and focus never change. They remain the same, about trying to find a cleaner way to live, and to be safer, you know? And maybe we should be a little more careful about social mores instead of this loose living that everybody’s gotten caught up in. We’ve lost our moral values a little bit. That’s what I was touching on. I believe as an artist, my nature is to speak. Do I think we need to readdress how we clean ourselves? Yeah. It took a long time for soap to catch on. Now everyone uses soap. So let’s be a little more clean, you guys. Let’s not be germophobic, but let’s be clean when we can.







I said jump, down on Jump Street

August 13, 2008

Every time I empty the dishwasher and begin putting the silverware away in their little organized slot cubby in the drawer, I think of Johnny Depp; Every. Single. Time. I am certain there must be at least one other person in the world who also thinks of Johnny Depp when putting away their freshly cleaned forks, knives & spoons, because it was a major plot point on an episode of 21 Jump Street.

21 Jump Street was an awesome TV show that Johnny Depp starred in from 1987 – 1990 where young looking cops go under cover in high schools where, apparently, all the bad shit is going down.

Here is a description of some of the episodes:

Episode 5. My Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades
First aired: 5/3/1987 Production Code: 16105
Hanson and Penhall infiltrate an exclusive preppie clique to investigate what led to a girl’s death.

Episode 13. Mean Streets and Pastel Houses
First aired: 6/28/1987 Production Code: 16101
Hanson goes undercover as a punk rocker in an effort to stop a feud between two rival gangs from turning into a war.

Episode 29. Orpheus 3.3
First aired: 2/28/1988 Production Code: 16225
Hanson blames himself for failing to prevent the shooting death of his girlfriend in a convenience store robbery and becomes obsessed with revenge.

I thought it was interesting that one of the episodes had the Fear & Loathing moniker:

25. Fear and Loathing with Russell Buckins
First aired: 12/20/1987 Production Code: 16214
Hanson contemplates leaving the force and leaves town instead of going to a refresher course at the police academy he and Penhall had been assigned to take after they went drag racing to try to catch a hit and run driver.

Anyway, the episode that my brain bizarrely refers to every time I empty the dishwasher is this one:

Episode 41. Hell Week
First aired: 12/18/1988 Production Code: 16318
Hanson and Ioki must endure hell week as fraternity pledges in order to gain the confidence and get evidence on a gang rape which occurred at a frat party.

During this episode, Tom Hanson, played by Johnny Depp gets caught up in some hazing action when he must go undercover as a fraternity pledge. One of the cruel things the fraternity makes him do to prove he is worthy of joining their frat is to put silverware in their rightful spot super fast. That’s right: he must put the spoons in the spoon slot, the forks in the fork slot, etc. First partner Ioki tries it and every time he messes up, which is a lot, Hanson must eat a raw egg. THE HUMANITY! When Hanson tries it, he expertly puts each utensil in its rightful spot, never once messing up. When the pledge master then asks him how many of each he put away, Hanson says a number and if he is correct, the pledge master has to eat a cup of pig intestines or something. Of course the almighty Hanson is right, but the Pledge Master still makes Ioki eat the intestines and Hanson has to shine his shoes. THE INDIGNITY!

I am hoping that sharing this story will somehow purge it from my brain and I will no longer think of it each and every time I put dishes away. But then, Johhny Depp is not the worst thing you can think about was drowning in domesticity.


The fate of some other cast members: Peter DeLuise who played Doug Penning, just starred in the soon to be released made-for-TV movie: Yeti: Curse of the Snow Demon. Richard Grieco who played the character Booker, is now manarexic:


Holy shit, the episode is actually on youtube. Of course.




August 11, 2008

My brother was just diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. This is my wake up call that if I don’t make some big changes, I will be next. I am off sugar once again, people, this time for good (fingers crossed). This week’s addition of fun with flashbacks is my account of my history with addiction:

When I was about 4 years old, I wandered over to the neighbors’ house and asked to borrow some maple syrup. I then proceeded to hide in their bushes and DRINK the bottle of syrup. They of course caught me squatting in their yard, covered from head to toe in sticky goop. I still remember the look on the neighbor’s face that conveyed the question: “What the Fuck?”

I also have a memory of making sugar sandwiches. That’s right, two pieces of bread filled with about an inch of white sugar.

There was also a time when I would keep cake mix in my room and would eat it raw.

My days as a shoplifter had me pocketing 15 candy bars at a time and eating them all.

I was an addict from an early age. I think it may have been due to heredity; I come from a family of sugar heads. It is an addiction that helps me to understand why smokers have such a hard time quitting or why crack heads will end up in rehab time and time again.

To my mothers’ credit, we were not allowed to eat sugar cereals, except when we visited my grandparents we could eat captain crunch. The jagged edges of the sharp cereal squares cut the shit out of your mouth, but we did not care, because it was filled with sugary goodness.

I do hate this addiction. I have experimented with most drugs, but never got hooked. I used to smoke when I drank and could smoke a whole pack one night and wake up the next day not even craving another one. I like a good cocktail, but don’t drink unless out with friends. I find sex addictions interesting, but alas, I don’t have one. It is just this one little substance made naturally from nature’s earth that has me by the throat.

I can’t go a day without thinking about candy, or cookies or hostess ho ho’s. I cannot keep any sugary snacks in the house, because I will eat them. I am not an overeater, but if there is a candy bar in the house, all I will think about during dinner is when I can get my hands on the chocolate.

Halloween is my favorite holiday. I will have to buy the candy for the trick-or-treaters the day of or there will not be any left to hand out at the door. I will have to turn off all the lights and hide out in shame.

Sasha is trying to quit smoking right now with the aid of the Nicotine Patch and medication that will help calm his anxiety. I know he has a hard road ahead of him. Is there such a thing as a Sugar Patch?


August 8, 2008

Last weekend I went to a reunion for my old hotel job where I worked for 7 years, but quit over 6 years ago. Actually, I helped organize the damn thing and totally expected only 3 people to show up, but more like 30 people attended the picnic in the park. That is pretty amazing considering most jobs you quit you just want to put out of your mind forever. There was something special about that hotel, the owners made us feel like a family. I worked in reservations and then became the HR Manager, but I was friends with the front desk staff, the housekeepers, the construction crew, the maintenance staff and everyone on the admin floor. So many people came and went, but there was a certain kind of personality that tended to stay there for years. Sadly, the owners lost the hotel to some bad business dealings and some rich, soulless fellow turned it into a fancy schmancy modern bore and all the old staff got laid off.

During its reign, however, a lot of weird shit went down over the years.

When I first started working there, I knew immediately that it was haunted. The hotel was undergoing constant renovations, which is the surest way to stir any ghost. It was built in 1926 and was first an apartment hotel used to house people traveling to and from Alaska and later turned into a co-op, before becoming a real, full service hotel. When I was there, some of the people that had bought apartments there still lived there and they were getting quite old. Many people died in that building over the years, including one tenant named Kay. The EMT’s brought down her body via the elevator and they took her out through the lobby. My friend Chris who worked the front desk said when he got in that elevator a bit later, it was cold as an icebox. Back in the 60’s, the housekeeping staff doubled as prostitutes. One of them either jumped out or was thrown out of the 9th floor window onto a vent on the 3rd floor roof. You can still see a dent there to this day. Another decade later, a female guest dove out of her 10th floor hotel room into the 4th Avenue traffic below.

When I was there, the old owners of the hotel still lived there, Dick and Velva; those were their actual names, I swear to god. I would sort their mail and Dick had a subscription to Playboy magazine that arrived in a brown paper cover. Dick ended up getting terminal cancer and soon became despondent. There was worry that he would jump off the roof, but instead he took an overdose of Morphine, which ended his suffering. Some say he still haunts the building.

There have always been complaints of strange, unexplained noises, especially from room 904 in the summer of 1998. Almost nightly people complained of not being able to sleep due to the rattling and goings on in the room above them. Thing is, that room was closed for renovation and uninhabited by anyone of this earth.

Anyway, the next reunion will be a pool party