“You probably don’t remember but I sent you an email because I couldn’t get pregnant and I think you are amazing and you are my idol and can I hug you.”
things that make me smile
Act like you’re good at it
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Copernicus cooling off in the Northwest heat wave
Tonight did not disappoint. A reading filled with win that only references of Wil Wheaton, Pegasuses (pegasi?), Six hour marathons of the Tenth Doctor, and Neil Gaiman could accomplish. After two lorazepams, an hour waiting in line after a tearful (on my part) story, I finally got to meet my idol Jennifer Lawson.
I bumbled my way through introductions and made a half way coherent attempt at a sentence. (To be recreated later.)
Best part, I got to hug her. I have been hugged by The Bloggess. Or strangled, because as we all know, A HUG IS LIKE A STRANGLE YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED YET!
- I’m probably not as cuddly as Copernicus
One of the scariest and most exhilarating moments I’ve ever had.
There have been several times that I have wanted to get out there and meet these people who have inspired me. So many should have’s, tucked away to haunt me. But not this time. I got my signature and I got my hug and for one moment I got the attention of a person I hope to be like.
- I couldn’t contain my excitement upon meeting her!
Better than the movie
StandardAs I was drifting off to sleep last night (at 9:15, party animal) I was thinking about the things I would like to pass on to my son. Most importantly a love for reading and with that, my collection of books that I hope he likes.
When I was younger my mom bought me a few Nancy Drew books that she had loved a s a child. I tried to read them but for some reason or another they were pushed to the side to make way for the newest Fear Street book. (Fear=Fier=Fire, almost 15 years after I still remember that.) I wish that I could have shared a love for that series with my mom. I’m sure that there will be new books that he will be interested in but I’d really like him to enjoy books like Harry Potter, Goosebumps and Percy Jackson.
I hope that he can appreciate the power of the written word, the smudge of ink under your finger and the musty powder of the paperback covers. I hope he bends, rips and fold down pages, that he drops it in the pool and dries it in the sun, making the book take on a wavy appearance. I hope that I have to replace the same book that he loves several times over because it has been so well loved.
Reading is Delicious
Day Trois
StandardThis post is brought to you by Joseph Arthur and the pilot episode.
I had a very hard time with this one. There are so many to choose from and I watch a lot of TV. Should I go with an obscure show to prove how edgy I am? Should I post something immature and superficial in an attempt to be ironic? Should I post something from years ago to make me seem nostalgic? A very difficult decision indeed.
So I’ll just post this and let you come up with your own theories.
Day 3 – A picture of the cast from your favorite show.
I really tried to think of something more…substantial maybe? But I stared at the google image box and my brain just kept saying, The OC…The OC. And who am I to disagree? This show is loved by every member in my family and my Catholic mother has mentioned she thought about becoming Jewish because of this show. I don’t think she was serious though.
And because she is often left out, but is basically the only reason the fourth season is my favorite. Here is my favorite character.
Plus she was in American Mall which is wickedly bad, so needless to say, it’s a great sick day movie.
Winter Winds
StandardThis post is brought to you by Rusty’s driving and my especially shoddy camera work.
Last weekend we got excited about the idea of snow so we drove up to Jefferson County (The county Twilight forgot, poor things) and drove up the side of a mountain. This isn’t really a post as much as it is a way to share all our pictures of the snow.
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- Snirt just got real
And of course it wouldn’t be a trip until someone got stuck, so here I am trailer hitch deep in the snow and dirt. (Which I do believe is called snirt)
Snirt just got real
It was great until two days after we did this it snowed everywhere in the PacNor and knocked out 55,000 peoples power in our county. I was stuck at my house for three days straight.
I love the snow, I love snow days. I don’t like running out of coffee when it’s 15 degrees outside.
A little prophetic
StandardThis post brought to you by Muse. I’m not a big fan of Muse despite the fact that S.Meyer hero worships them. But I do really like this song.
Sometimes just when you’re feeling down life sends you just a little sign that lets you know that things will begin to look up. It cold be something as small as a purple bud poking it’s way through the rocks in my front yard or it could be something as big as, oh I don’t know, this maybe…
There are no words
It is highly likely that I stumbled upon this website more because of the late night time I was lurking, random binary codes and a trigger happy finger on the like button. I am sure that this it the most likely explanation, but all i know is that I got this at a time when I truly needed a little pick me up.
Things I was looking at when I wasn’t watching reruns of Freaks and Geeks
so wrong, I am simply speechless
[Pictures Via Blame it on the Voices and this website]
The Andy-Mon
StandardFor this holiest of holy days, I shall tell you a story about a young boy. A boy not unlike many you will see walking down the road. But like his super human predecessors he holds a secret…
- The boy who would be the Mon, sandwiched between some crazy cheerleader and an anorexic pumpkin
On the usually tepid day of August 19th 1990, People around America were celebrating National Aviation Day and both a pre-Lewinsky, Bill Clinton and The man who would become Uncle Jesse celebrated their birthdays.* KISS was playing a concert in Biloxi, Mississippi and people in the Pacific Northwest went about their business, not knowing that as their day waned a child was being born. He was known as…
- The Andy-Mon
When he was born he looked like any other boy; green eyes and chubby arms. What no one knew was this boy was also born with magical hair. Growing thick and unruly in the wet climate, the hair began to show it’s prowess. All at once The Andy-Mon was protected from nOObs, douchey people who wear converse sneakers and Oregon Duck fans.
Using his hair he battled with frigid temperatures, never once waning from his uniform of board shorts and rainbow sandals. He fought with waves in Maui and came out slightly bent but still victorious above the boogy board.
Like all super heroes, he faced hardships in the form of having two older sisters who made him sit in the middle seat of the car, telling him “You can see the clock better.”
Yes, the Mon has a hard journey ahead of him and like ever Ace before him, he will be tested. For Hero’s are not born but made.
Go forth, The Mon and battle the world with your magical hair and your lightning wit.
I love you buddy.
Happy Birthday!!
Rien ne sert d’être vivant s’il faut qu’on travaille*
StandardThis post is brought to you by Edith Piaf.
I have these fleeting ideas that someday I’m just going to pack up all my things and become some traveling vagabond. There is a romanticism to the idea of having nothing but the clothes on your back and making your way around the world. I have these dreams of traveling to far away places like Budapest and Fiji. I would learn just enough of the language to get me by, before moving on to the next place in the world.
I’d love to just live in France for a year, sit at a cafe and drink tiny cups of coffee and bottle upon bottle of wine with little slivers of yummy cheese a top fresh baguette. I’d listen to Edith Piaf as I’d sauntered down the roads yelling “bonjour!” like Belle in Beauty in the Beast and cracking jokes about “À boire ou je tue le chien!**” Or at least that’s what I imagine it would be like.
Ole! Oh, crap.
As I child I desperately wished that I was born in the early 50’s so that I could have been a flower child, going to Woodstock and really giving a damn about the world around me. Of course that is all speculation, I have no way of knowing who or where I would have been doing (That came out so wrong, but I’ll just leave it in.) had I been born to a different generation.
But, there doesn’t seem to be any room for being impractical in this day and age. I had these ideas when I was younger and now I have found myself, an adult working a nine to five job and counting down the hours until the weekend. I desperately want that part of me that seeks the adventure and thrill of the world, back. I don’t think I’m too old to still have it, is any one ever too old?
The truth is as nice as I would be to just leave behind all these material things and becoming some sort of hobo, I am much to dependent on things like my Nordstroms card and 3G service. So all I can do now, is spend my days finding pleasure in the little things in life.
The way my husband cut up my steak for me when I get sick or the way a single calla lily blooms next to my doorstep every spring. The sound of my dog’s tail against the hard wood floor and the scent of Dove body wash on my skin as I drift off to sleep. I may never make it to the ends of the earth tomorrow, but I suppose it’s not that bad here.
*”Being alive serves no purpose if you have to work” from Nadja, by Andre Breton
**Bring me something to drink or I kill the dog! Both translation are from random website I stumbled upon. I am probably butchering the language. I never said I spoke French, just that I wanted to live there.
As a very American person once said, “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one’s mouth and remove all doubt.”
Should have listened to you, Mr. Prez., Mon Dieu!
Snow in July, sounds like the making of a mattress commercial.
StandardOne time this guy at my work wore this tee-shirt that said “Sarcasm just one of my many talents” which I laughed at and then pointed out that for that to be true he would have to be either not talented or not sarcastic. And then I gave myself a headache because I couldn’t remember what irony really was. I should have looked up irony here before being such a know it all. Which I don’t think is ironic or funny or smart. I just don’t know anything, except the guy was a douche. I know that.
A few winters ago it began to snow for the first time of the season. Snow in the PacNor is always a joyous occasion. It hardly ever sticks, it is quite a novelty and the entire western portion of the state shuts down because we have no clue how to get around in five inches of mush. I was once off work for two weeks because it snowed fourteen inches in one night.
My cousin, Tone-Loc and I stood in our kitchen watching the snow come down through the french door. We must have stood there for thirty minutes, gazing at our lawn become a rare winter wonderland.
Marijuana is a highly illegal drug in America now. So I am in no way stating that i have ever used it. Because that would be incriminating and suspicious. So I really have no way of know how it feels to be under the influence of such a substance. But I imagine (If I had ever done it) that is how it would feel to see Snowflakes falling for the first time of the season. This is about the same thing. I could play with this all day long. Which is probably why I’ve had to wear the same maxi dress for three days in a row.
Shit I was looking at when I should have gone to the gym.
I wish I could get married everyday just to wear things like this
SmutWard may be better than Edward…
StandardThis post is brought to you by sweet, sweet love making tunes…
There was a time not so long ago when I had no idea what Twilight was. It seems like a different time for me. I was blissfully unaware that four measly books would become my complete unraveling. I fell in love with these stories fast than I have ever loved something before. I reread the books more times than I could count and saw Twilight seven times in it’s opening month alone. I get shivers when the screen opens up to the deer delicately drinking out of the stream.
I believe this is a euphamism for innocence. I wouldn't know, it's been years...
It’s innocent, it’s sweet, it’s everything I felt when I was seventeen and felt the first pangs of love from my boyfriend. I tried to play it off as something that was just a fleeting fancy.
But things changed about a year later. As I pursuing the internet for pictures of Rob and Kristen I stumbled upon a little known underworld of the twilight realm. Fanfiction. Have you heard of it?
When I was a young girl a friend and I used to sneak into her father’s car and steal his thick Letters to Penthouse paperback and read them to each other in the woods, giggling over words like cock and tits. This was around the same time we would flip each other off behind our parents backs and always by covering our hands to as not to be seen. Almost fifteen years later I am just as engrossed in the smutty world as I ever was. It’s fun, it’s hot, it’s not your teenager’s Twilight…
I started my education off the right way with The Office*; The Beautiful Bastard and Non, je ne regrette rien. Truly, I don’t regret it.
Rip my La Perla anytime...
And then I read Wide Awake. Which, true to it’s title gave me self induced insomnia. The most important thing about this story is the fact that it could stand alone, without the twilight backing. It’s that good. The characters are rich and complex, You genuinely feel for their heart aches and cheer on their triumphs. Edward and Bella are both wounded characters who save each other in a very unusual way. Plus, AG uses the best chapter names ever. Macadamia Unicorns. Seriously, it’s brilliant and funny and sad and I wish I had thought of it first.
Then I was introduced to the dark world of Mafia Princes and Toberlone bars in Emancipation Proclamation. We dive into the world of drugs, mobsters, human trafficking and of course first love.
My heart would shudder in excitement when a new installment of Clipped Wings and Inked Armor would come out. I’d squeal when a notification about The Lost Boys would appear on my droid. The list goes on and on.
Before Eclipse came out in theatres I decided to reread the third book, just in case I had forgotten any plot details, what I found was even more shocking. While I had been away from the original story I had lost my love for Edward, The real Edward that is sweet and polite and hardly ever swears. He has been replaced with an Edward who’s favorite way to show his affection is to say, ‘I Fucking Love You’ or rip of various articles of clothing or maybe beat up an unassuming Mike Newton (poor kid is always the punching bag).
The Edward in fanfiction is the polar opposite of Twilight Edward. He is rough and swears all the time. He smokes and drinks and wears leather jackets and gets in fights with random people. He almost always has had sex with Jessica, Tanya or Lauren and in the case of many stories, all three. (sometimes at the same time.)
And I love this Edward. I think I may love him more than I love vampire Edward, which frightens me. Is my love for Edward that shallow that it could be swayed by one measly story where a Beautiful Bastard does naughty things with a La Perla wearing Bella? How have I gone so astray?
If you are following my thoughts you need to read these. If you haven’t already, and really? Why not, because
I know they rock my world and I’m pretty sure they’ll rock yours.
Emancipation Proclaimation by Kharizzmatik
Clipped Wings and Inked Armor by HunterHunting
*Breaks my heart that this story is no longer available, but I understand, I really do….
The Megnacarta 
