Stateside Again

So, as many of you know I spent the past 5 weeks in Maho Bay on St. John's in the USVI. I can sum up my time there as PHENOMENAL. I mean, really nothing like it. Such a positive amazing experience.

While I kept a journal the whole time I was there (I wrote in it every day!) I am not sure I want to post all the boring details online. 

Here's one thing I know though - I'm going back in January! I ended up working in the kitchen when I got there, which was AWESOME. I forgot how much I really enjoy the dysfunctionality of a kitchen environment. Like a little warped family. =) So anyway the kitchen manager offered me a month position to come down and do a little hosting/catering to some rich group that comes down all the time. I said yes. The details still need to be hammered out, but it WILL happen. =)

During the 3rd week when everyone started asking if I was staying for season (until June) I initially said no. At the time I was thinking, LA, boyfriend, family etc. etc. - however, by the 4th week I was secretly wishing I had told everyone yes, and by the 5th week it was no secret, I wanted to stay. Maybe once I'm down in Jan. I can figure out a way... I don't know, a lot of "stuff" going on and unsure of what direction I'm headed to worry about that at the moment.

It's been a rather rough adjustment to being back home. I've moved so much in my life that I find it generally v. easy to adapt no matter where I am. This can be both a blessing and curse. While it's good because my "homesick" days last about one week, it's bad because I get used to a place very quickly and come to think of it as home sooner rather than later. This, of course, happened even more easily in Maho. It just opened it's arms up to me and wrapped me up, and has yet to let go. So many amazing people there... that helped too ;)

So here are some things I've had to adjust to/are different since being back:

1. Walls. I was accustomed to being outdoors 100% of the time. Even when I was 'inside' I was still outside, because nothing is a real permanent structure with walls that aren't made out of screens!

2. The weather. I knew I'd be coming home to winter. I say EVERY winter that it will be my last in the cold. This one DEF. will be my last. How could I leave sunny 85 degree weather to come home to icy, windy, cloudy, cold 30 degrees and below? I must done bumped my head.

3. Socks. I normally love socks. I am a big proponent, and I always said that if I ever made it big or had a lot of money my one indulgence would be to wear a new pair of socks EVERY day, because there is nothing like putting on a brand new pair of socks. So cushiony and soft, enveloping your foot in a little pillow of warmth and softness. Anyway, I came back and refused to wear them up until a day or so ago, and I'm still comfortable with the notion. My feet feel like they can't breathe! And to put boots/shoes on top of that?!?! ACK! My feet are screaming GET ME OUT.

4. I had little to no boogers or snot when I was in the islands. I haven't stopped blowing my nose since I landed (granted I came home with a cold, but I believe it would have cleared up V. quickly down there...)

5. I had NO ear wax in St. John. A weird observation, I realize, but true. I use a q-tip every time  I shower and I'm not saying I get like gobs of earwax (that's gross), but it usually feels really good and I have a little to clear or something. NOT while I was at Maho, I swear not one single time was there ANYthing on the q-tip. I'd use it and it would come out clean, so clean I could even use it again if I was so inclined. Since I've returned the ear wax has come back too. So weird.

6. My skin is suddenly DRY. I know part of that is the winter and thus the humidity isn't as great etc. etc. but COME ON. Down there I was applying sunscreen once a day, all over my body. EVERYWHERE. Not only that but then I would add a layer of DEET (do you know what that is?!?! That is SERIOUS bug spray, that's what that is, I wouldn't even call it bug spray, I would say, Poisonous chemicals that I was spraying all over myself) and I would add this layer AT A MINIMUM of 4 times a day, often times more... So my skin was moisturized, tan, and glowing. Not only that, but I broke out close to never. I mean, I think I got like a solo zit maybe, but that's IT. My skin has never looked or felt better. I was smooth and tan and clear. It was incredible. My face esp! I mean, granted, allllllll of my freckles came out (not that I have a shit ton of them, but still...) and that was that. I got burned one time, by no one's fault but my own, and even that faded by THE NEXT DAY - which never happens to me! Me and my skin - HYPER SENSITIVE, to products, to sun, to chemicals, to ANYTHING, but not down there. My sun skin rash never appeared. Not once. It was MAGICAL. Ok, enough about the skin.

7. My back stopped hurting, in fact, everywhere kind of stopped hurting. I mean, aside from my clumsy spills up the wood stairs all over the place, but other than that the little aches and pains were gone! My upper back in my shoulders (where I hold all my stress apparently) - NOTHING. I only just realized because the last few days I've been working for an office and doing data entry in front of a computer all day, and despite the fact that my posture is good, my upper shoulders are KILLING me (and I've only been home a couple weeks). I didn't get as many headaches and my knee didn't even bother be doing 500+stairs every day. 

8. I cried maybe once. (I am generally driving an emotional roller coaster.) Down there? My biggest worry was mosquito bites. And if that's your biggest worry in life? That and what to eat or drink that day... then you're doing alright, ya know? Day to day life down there was just so much simpler. The right things mattered. It was about connecting with other people, and living life the way you want to and just relaxing. People get so worked up for no reason about stupid little things that in the end, matter not. 

Obviously, I can't say enough good things about Maho. It changed my life. I now feel like I can remember who I am. What the important things in life are. Why I love really connecting with people so much. I watched ZERO television down there, read 15 books, watched 5 movies, and spent every night drinking at some point, though not to excess. And spent every waking moment completely happy to be alive. 

Ruminations, Aaron Karo style

Aaron Karo (if you don't know, tell me, and we'll remedy that) asked for submissions so you could ruminate on his up and coming website. Here are my samples. I submitted 3 out of these 4 (had to be 100 words or less):

I saw 2 bearded ladies this past week. I don't think I'd ever seen a bearded lady in the wild before, and here they were wearin' it as if it were the latest trend in fashion. Granted, the first was definitely homeless and there was probably not much she could do about said beard. She had a long goatee and was also sporting a sweet moustache. The other one I saw was seemingly a ‘normal’ tourist. Her's was more of a full-on beard - dark, bushy. I couldn’t decide whether to give her a razor or ask for her number.

I read about a cat in a nursing home that foretells death. I don't know about you, but I'd hate to be living in this nursing home. "Get away from me death cat!!!"
I mean, it doesn't surprise me as animals are the best things in the world and their senses are more in-tune. HOWEVER, I would not want an angel of death cat wandering around as I lay dying. I'd prefer a dog. Cause you know that about an hour after you died that cat will be all up on you trying to eat your face.

I like when co-workers call me while working through something they don’t need me to solve in order to figure out the solution. Somehow I’m connected to said issue and I’m called. I listen as they attempt to fix their problem. They mumble in my ear and I say "uh huh" until they finally reach a conclusion, and say, "Ok. That's better. Thanks Sarah" and I say, "No problem." And I, knowing full well I've done absolutely nothing, hang up the phone with no clue as to what just happened. But hey! Apparently it's fixed! So, uh, well done me!

I'm too nice. While in line for the restroom recently, someone came out and said, "I'm sorry, were you waiting long?" I said something like, "Oh no, just got here, no problem." What I wanted to say was, “I've been waiting 10 minutes for you to finish your epic work poop, thanks a lot, dick! Now I have to pee in a bathroom that smells like the trashcan at taco bell. Oh, and since waiting for you, my bladder has been stretched to immeasurable size. No doubt resulting in my wearing depends at the ripe old age of 32.”

Whelp, I did it.

I sure did. I quit my job. So what? you might think, but you shouldn't, because I've never had to quit an actual job before. What, were you in a convent? Did you live as a prostitute minus the pimp? Have you ever worked a day in your life? And the answers would be No, no, and kind of.
I just mean, that in all my other jobs my reason for leaving was simple - I'm moving! And all of these jobs had the expectation that I would not be staying forever, they always sort of KNEW I'd be moving, and thus, kind of awaited it. That, and the atmospheres of all my former jobs have been MUCH more casual, and MUCH more down to earth than my current "office" situation. Hell, even my real estate job in NYC was easy, mainly because I was an independent contractor and could say, "see ya!" (Though they may still have my license... hmmm. Must look into that.) Anyway, this being a "REAL" job with policies and procedures and not an open feel to it, I had to formally resign, complete with letter of resignation.
Needless to say, I was completely nervous and unsure as how this would go. The whole two days prior I couldn't concentrate and my stomach hurt. Which is weird, because I want to quit. I've wanted nothing better to do that walk out for the past 6 mos., but I stuck it out, and made it work for the time being, and so when the time came around to do the deed, you'd think I'd be more than ready, but truth is, I hate disappointing people. And I knew my boss would be disappointed. And despite the fact that I don't even really like my boss, I STILL felt bad. Ah well, life lesson and all that I suppose. It went fine. He was more than understanding and even quite nice about it. I did the professional "good" thing and painted everything in a positive light, as I am as want to do anyway, and all went fine. I have until October 5th and then I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE of "The Office: Miss Sugah Style" - and then off to the Caribbean for a month and 5 days of paradise! And while I may be cleaning toilets for the next month or so, at least I'll be in an environment that doesn't make me want to find rusty nails on the sidewalk and stick them into my eyes. Huzzah!

George the Puggle

Big news in doggie world - my little puggle buggle is on www.dailypuppy.com today as the featured daily "grown up" puppy.
If you scroll down a little and look on the right you will see him and click on him to see photos and a little paragraph about him.
I frequent daily puppy every single day and thus I am VERY excited to see him on the site!!!
Huge dork? Yes. Obsessed with my dog? Totally and completely.
Ok with all of that? Assuredly so.

Office Query

I like when people call me (people from my place of employment) to work through something they are working on and they don't really need me in order to figure out the answer or solution at all, but I'm somehow connected to said issue and they think I need to know what they are doing or something and thus they call me. So I listen, on the phone, as they fix whatever it is they can, and I say "uh huh" and "mm hmmm" and they mumble and mumble in my ear until they finally reach a conclusion they like, and say, "Ok. Ok. That's better. Thanks Sarah" and I say, "No problem" or "You're welcome." And I, knowing full well I've done absolutely nothing, hang up the phone with no clue as to what just happened. But hey! Apparently it's fixed!

STEELERS

Well, football season is upon us. Count me in as one excited Steeler fan anxious to see where they will head this year!! New coach. New blood. Some great old blood. It's going to be interesting!!!
I had rehearsal last Sunday, so I'll kick off MY start to the season this Sunday, trying to find a bar in Philadelphia that will allow me to wave my terrible towel with pride and not throw things at me in my over-sized, now out-dated, Randel El jersey. (I do have a Bettis jersey, which is probably more appropriate... or better yet, I'll ask my dad if he'll buy me a new jersey, I'm thinking Polamalu.)
Anyway, all of this is very exciting, and then I read THIS.
Turns out Pittsburgh has the biggest base of female fans - how awesome!!!

LET'S GO STEELERS!

Grandparents

My G-Units (grandparents) are pretty much my reason for living.

FYI.

The footstool that wouldn't go away

So there's this footstool right? Right, Miss Sugah, right. The G-Units (Grandma and Grandpa) pawned it off on me to take. Let's start with a little footstool backstory.
I remember this footstool being a staple in my G-Unit's living room. As I remember it, it has always been covered in a BRIGHT ROYAL BLUE cover. Being young and naive, I thought that this was it's color. Whenever I thought of their living room, new couches, chairs or rugs be damned, it was omni-present. I think sometimes there were cushions underneath the cover, and occasionally it served as seat, or footrest, though mostly it served to hold the massive Saturday and Sunday editions of the Washington Post. It later years the blue seemed a little worse for wear, but it remained, ever-strong, always there.
My mom and her sibs are constantly telling them to buy a new ottoman, to please get RID of the short blue monster (that apparently has been there since the 1960's). Well, the day finally came! Grandma told me she bought a new ottoman at Target and since I had expressed interest in the footstool (I did? I mean, it's possible, but anyway...) did I want it because I do not have a lot of furniture? I thought about it, and due to the fact that this blue foot stool, approx. 2x3 ft., (If that.) had been such a staple in my childhood days at the G-Unit's house, I said, "Yes, but only if you promise to not carry it down to the basement by yourself." (At age 88, it is not a task to be completed - the basement stairs are steep! I worry enough.) She agreed and I said that next time I was over there way I would pick it up.
Well, that day arrived. I was visiting and they said, "Don't forget the foot stool!" (And the requisite Diet Coke and banana offered every time I visit by my Grandpa and Grandma, respectively.) I assured them I wouldn't and asked where it was. They told me, "In the basement." I made a face at Grandma, but she assure me Grandpa (a year older) had taken it down, oh, ok, that makes me feel LOADS better. [insert sarcasm here] Anyway I went down to find it and saw, not a little blue square waiting for me, but what appeared to be the quintessential 1967 green and tan flower print. Looking dismayed, I asked, "Where's the blue cover?" To which Grandma replied, "We threw it out, your mother insisted. And I guess it was getting rather old." (24 years at least... But this is coming from the woman who throws NOTHING out.) I was a little heart broken, but I thought, well, if I decide I don't want it, I can always get rid of it after I take it. She seemed so pleased I was taking it. So I loaded the 60's disaster print foot stool with all of the stuffing gone and probably wheezing decades old cheesecloth into my face as I dropped it onto my passenger seat in my little Celica.
I bid farewell to the G-Units and my Great Aunt S and was on my way back to Philadelphia.
I made a little stop at my bf's house in Delaware, though about taking the footstool out to air it out and possibly leave it in the garage, but at this point I decided, instead, to wedge it into my almost non-existent back seat and remove it once arriving home.
Well, I did arrive home, the next day, but was feeling lazy (strange for me I know) and decided I'd get it another time. Well, many more times came and went. Trips to Delaware, back to Philly, all the while the little footstool was hanging out, taking up one and half of my backseat bucket seats. No need to move it, we didn't really need it in my apartment, and the only use I have for me back seat is to throw stuff I'm not using into it.
Fast forward 3 months. I'm in Brooklyn. I'm at rehearsal. We are getting ready to do a photo shoot for our new promo photos for the website (www.thegossipfactory.com) and the show (opens this Thursday, 9:30) It's raining a little and we decide instead of taking the train over to the shoot site, to drive. There are two cars, mine, and another girl's - referred to as Lisa Frank in another post - and 11 people. Well, she has a 4 door that can SQUEEZE 6 people. My car, as mentioned before, is a Celica. Hatchback. I can barely fit me alone in there or me with a 25lb dog, let alone more than 2 people that are going to HAVE to get in the back seat, plus camera equipment. (Thankfully one friend is barely more than 90lbs and offers to ride in the back with a slightly larger guy.) I explain the situation. "I have a footstool in the backseat and a bin full of shit (not real poop) in the trunk. I have barely any room." Then the brilliance comes to me in a flash of lightening. I will LEAVE the footstool ON the sidewalk along with every other family's former treasures, now turned trash, or some might find as dumpster dive finds. I think I'm doing someone a favor, the stool is in decent shape, the 1960's fabric isn't stained and isn't ripped, ultimately, it's just fine! I tell everyone I will do this and Lisa Frank stops me and says, "NO! That's your grandmother's footstool, don't just leave it on the curb!" Another friend, K. insists we will find room for it, "You don't want to throw it away, it belonged to your grandmother." I stare at them knowing full well that I want to leave the thing ON the curb, even with the rain starting, but then start to have doubts as this IS my grandmother's stool and why should I throw it away. Lisa Frank INSISTS that I put the stool into her trunk - there's room. Feeling guilty now, I finally relent and let them load up the stool. We drive to the shoot.
Shoot is over 4 hours later (modeling is hard) and I drive off, heading home for a 2 hr. drive back to Philly.
I get a phone call. It's Lisa Frank. "You forgot your footstool."
I laugh. I say, "Please put it on the curb, get rid of it, it's not a big deal."
Lisa, "Noooo! It's ok, I'll just keep it until you get back to the city."
I say, more sternly, "PLEASE. Just put it on the curb, it's OK. I PROMISE."
Lisa, "You can just get it next time you're here."
Thinking someone somewhere is obviously trying to tell me something, I agree. I tell her I'll get it next time it's possible.
Time passes, maybe a month. I am finally driving to Queens for a rehearsal and she says, "Your stool is still in my car!!!"
Silently I curse.
"Ok, well, I'm going to put it on the curb myself."
Lisa, "Actually you can't. You have to call for a pickup."
I silently curse a lot more.
WHAT?!?!?!? Can I not rid myself of this thing?!?!?! She and I walk to her car, get it out and duck walk it back to my car awkwardly (it's surprisingly heavy).
We put it on my passenger seat, legs up, so it can at least hold my purse and water bottle. I slide into the driver's seat, start the car, and look over at the foot stool. "We meet again, old friend." It stares back at me in the dark, not giving in. "Well, you managed to save yourself from that fate." And I had to laugh, because JESUS. Footstool and I drove off into the darkness and towards the Tri-Boro bridge, Philadelphia bound once more. I arrived home in Philly and refused to take the footstool out of the car. I was exhausted, and I promised myself I'd deal with it later. Later came the next day. I drove down to Delaware to visit the boyfriend, do some errands, help him out. I arrived in his driveway, left the foot stool as is and went inside. Later, I remembered there were some clothes in my car I wanted to wash. I pulled those out, and cleaned up some junk in the car and decided once and for all I would be rid of the footstool. (Not ottoman, I refuse to call it an ottoman out of principle.) I yanked it out of the car, carried it down to the end of the driveway and left it on its side, propped up next to the trashcan. I started to walk away and it caught my eye. "Are you SUREEEEE?" It seemed to ask me. I hesitated. A little pang of Jewish guilt rang through me. I started back towards it, then quickly turned around on heel and headed back to the house. Thankfully I'm only a 1/4 Jewish and that pang of guilt disappeared quickly as I became distracted with a movie and some laundry.
Later that night I sat on the edge of my boyfriend's bed, contemplating whether or not I should really use the footstool. After all, it's a decent piece of furniture, it's in good shape. I could get it re-upholstered. Or even just throw a cushion down and get a new cover. It would serve me well, and it's another piece of furniture I wouldn't have to buy. And as I made up my mind once more to salvage the footstool, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and the rain began to pour, thereby making up my mind for me. The footstool is no more.

**Addendum: Lisa Frank informs me that she actually drove to LI and had her car serviced while footstool resided in the trunk. She had to actually take it OUT of the car and put it BACK in.**

SHAMELESS PLUG - THE GOSSIP FACTORY

Come see a great show!

Another reason to dislike Avril Lavigne

I am not a big fan. By any stretch of the imagination. Some of her songs are catchy and I'll find myself humming one now and then. That is, before I start bashing the closest hard object into my head. And now? One more reason - The things that come out of this chick's mouth!!! Re-God-Damn-Diculous - look! She's even made me go and break up a word in a way that I usually hate. (along with recockulous redonkulous etc.)

Enjoy! Avril at her best.

New York New York

New 5-7yr. plan - purchase apartment in Manhattan.
It's got to happen. I can't fight it. Not to say I'm ready to move back now - I've still got to head out to the West Coast and give that a try. But now that I know that that is a serious goal, it feels good. Of course, I say that NOW when prices for a 1BR are under 500k - hey I'm not talking total luxury here, just my own space. I'm sure 5 yrs from now prices will be totally different. Either way, I guess I have to start saving...

Food and Bev Twins

It has come to my attention that I have a food and bev twin (though I'm not sure how she feels about mayo, and well, I love it. THERE I SAID it OK!? I LOVE MAYO). We shall call her Lisa Frank (for privacy purposes. That and our OBSESSION with all things Lisa Frank). I was telling her how much I enjoy my Venti Non-Sweetened Black Iced Tea from Starbucks (for it's deliciousness AND the fact that it only costs $2.00 before tax) and her response was:

"omg

venti unsweetened black teas are my fav

stop being my food and bev twin!"

Which, on it's own, doesn't really constitute being a food and bev twin had it not been that we had just had an hour long discussion on food and beverages. (Me, have a convo about food? Weird, I know.) It actually started with our love for wine, and beer, and vodka, and, typing at the same exact moment, "and tequila" - and discussing that it really is great to be able to drink tequila. I'd hate to be one of those people that couldn't enjoy it. And that morphed into a conversation more on food and how I was tired of battling my weight, but I enjoy what I eat so much that it's hard and all things failing dieters say. To which she pointed out the rebel instinct to say, "fuck all, I love food and I will eat it" - which is great, but invariably leaves me with an extra pound (and not just of fat, but of shame).
Anyway, we had been discussing how it's hard to want to lose weight and exercise when you enjoy eating and drinking so much. And I'm not talking gluttony to the max stuff your face with bad potato chips (not that that isn't enjoyable and not that we both have not participated in that activity complete with white creamy dip of some sort...) but really good food. When she asked me what three foods I would choose if I could only have 3 for the rest of my life (bevs included) I quickly responded, "bread, cheese, and wine" - I mean, if that's all you could have - there is so much variety there, and also, it TASTES good. It's pleasing to the palate and to your psychological state. Lisa Frank responded with, "ME TOO" - I mean, I'm sure there are others out there that probably feel the same way (read: the French) and they aren't supa fat and gross. Though, probably because they a few slices of bread, a sprinkling of cheese and a couple of glasses of wine, and don't think they need to eat the whole loaf of bread, the whole block of cheese and the whole bottle of wine. (I mean, not that I'm saying I do but...) I mean, I have thought about reading the book "French Women Don't Get Fat" - so thanks for the suggestion in advance. But that bitch doesn't live in the U.S. and while I'd love to run off and live in Paris, I've got to be a little bit reasonable.
I could go into the whole European way of life and blah blah blah, but everyone already knows that I love Europe and everything it stands for so I won't. Instead I'll just say, that at least I know that someone out there feels the love for (and battles with) the same foods/bevs that I do on a daily basis, and that person, is Lisa Frank.

Dumb. "THE Iraq"

I know it's been awhile since I last had an entry. Forgive me, I sort of forgot I HAD a blog for a hot sec there.
Anyway. The news is chock full of "dumbness" today.
I give you - Miss South Carolina!! highlights include: THE Iraq. A lot of "uhs" and Mario Lopez' (yes, that would be Slater from Saved By The Bell) reaction when she finished speaking. You can just hear him thinking, "Wow, even I'm smarter than THAT."

Headwraps

So today I am wearing a gigantic yellow headwrap/head band. It is not the first time, I enjoy a good wrappy type thing on my head. But I've gotten more comments on it than anything else I've worn in probably the last 6 mos. I wore it last night out to dinner with my roommate and her man-friend. They stared at me when I walked out the door but ultimately said nothing. I think my roommate is used to my occasional foray into odd fashion choice land to see if I can pull something off or not.
However, people at work were apparently not prepared at all for my headwrap. haha. That's pretty swell. I mean, after all, it is BRIGHT yellow. We are talking brighter than a banana. I paired it with a simple green tank, tan linen baggy trousers, and a white linen jacket. And of course some drop earrings. It's a nice outfit, if I do say so myself, and is definitely more put together than I normally am on a daily basis. It must have been a big difference because I walked in and someone in the elevator gave me "WHOA" look, but not necessarily a bad one. Then I walked over to some other sections of my office and I got some really nice compliments, "Hey Miss Fashionista!" "Lookin' Good!" "You're so fashionable today!" "All you're missing are the big sunglass Jackie O." Great! Sweet! Super nice comments! I said thank you to all and mumbled something about pulling the outfit out of the back of my closet and came back to my corner of cynicism. Later, in a meeting, after getting a couple more of the "Whaaaa?" stares I sat down next to someone who almost immediately got up and moved. I jokingly said, "What? Do I smell?" And he smiled and laughed and said he needed to be on the laptop for the meeting, but then someone else cut her eyes to me and said, "I think it must be the bandana." She gave a little awkward laugh and I just sort of looked at her, unsure if this was meant to be a joke or a "what the hell are you thinking wearing that thing?" Ah well, no worries I suppose.
See, I rather like the brightness, and I think I look sharp in head wraps. (no, seriously) For instance, when I lived in NYC I shared an apartment with one of my best friends from long ago and she had a really pretty brown headwrap that had the illusion of raw silk, though, I think was from H & M. Anyway, this one was perfect because it scrunched up in the middle and tied in the back, and was a really pretty chocolate color. It was really ideal as headwraps go (the one I'm wearing today is just an extra extra wide knit cotton elastic headband) and I stole it to wear every single chance I got. I used to get great compliments on it, I thought it showcased my face and eyes nicely, and was the PERFECT excuse for not washing my hair. (This really is probably the root of my love for anything that covers a large portion of my head. It's simply the best solution.) Alas, we both moved away, she to the other coast, me to Phila, and now, I find myself about once a month standing naked in the middle of my room thinking to myself, "I wish I had C.'s brown head wrap right now. I could totally build an outfit around it." I really miss it. And while I've attempted to re-create the look today with the day-glo banana strapped tightly around my dirty head, it's just not the same, I miss the glorious brown one. So C. if you're reading this, I'll be moving to Cali in January, and you better watch out, because your brown head wrap just might go missing.

For the Wages of Sin is Death (repost)

I wrote this on my myspace awhile ago and felt the need to re-post it here. That and so a friend could read it...
So today I decided that we all must have one SIN that really gets to us, (and I write using that term in the 7 deadly sins) and by that I mean, we really walk the line for that sin. These 7 deadly sins, as classified as the CAPITAL or MORAL sins - the major ones, and they are (as many of you may be familiar with) Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride. Many are familiar through the haunting and appealing movie, "Seven." All of the sins entice from time to time, but I think it's one of them really fascinates a person, and maybe this is just for me. I'm not sure, but I have a feeling that we, as individuals, identify with one sin in particular. One that really makes us smile deep down, and not in an elated, happy way, but a sinister (ha) devilish way, a naughty secret smile that we may or may not choose to share with others.
The sin I have decided I identify most with, is pride. That's right, pride, an oft overlooked sin in my humble (ha) opinion. Sure it's easy to choose lust or sloth, I mean, lust actually would be my second, close on pride's heals, because I relate the two in my mind, but I digress. I choose pride because I know that I tend towards narcissism, and exhibionism - two qualities closely associated with said pride. And I'm sure it has something to do with being an actress too, but it rears its haughty head in many facets of my life.
Sure, I take pride in things I do. When I feel I've done a job that deserves praise and recognition. Yet, my pride goes to a deeper level and a sinful level when I look to things that one wouldn't necessarily take pride in or for. Harmful addictions, damaging habits. Drinking, for example I take great pride in the fact that I am a drinker. That's not something most are proud of, but I wear it like a badge of honor, something that goes with being an "artist", and inevitability of this path I have chosen. My destiny. I am thrown together with alcohol because it is in my blood, I take pride that it is the one thing I can bond with my father over (in quite the happy and loose manner) as an avenue for other such topics as literature, history, and writing for which it seems cannot get started without a bottle of wine, or tumbler of vodka. And through association of my father, I then take pride in the fact that I am a drinker, like him. Emination and imitation is the highest form of flattery after all. And to be like my father, the harmful qualities are the ones I am drawn to the most, well, I take great pride in that.
I take pride in my sexual exploits. One might say, "you shouldn't air your dirty laundry, sex is something that should be kept private," and while that might be so I take delicious fancy over exploiting any conquest/accomplishment I have encountered in (or out) of the bedroom. Inside of me, in my deepest parts I picture a cheshire smile, a hint, a glimmer in my eye, an excited electrice pulse that courses through my blood at the mention of the word, "sex." It sizzles. And not in the way that the mention of the word or act creates a taboo or a naughty thought, but in a way that makes me want to shout to everyone, "I own sex. Sex is mine. I will raise your fucking to 10 trillion and bet the ranch that I delight in it more than you do! I am master of my domain, and my domain is sex!" - which is probably where the lust comes into play. I am proud of promescuity and flaunting a primal act (that almost all of us participate in) so much to the point that it grinds on peoples morals, gets hung up in their mouth and oozes down their chin.
I love seeing someone out of their comfort zone, and take a secret happiness to seeing them squirm. Sadistic and mean? No. Pride at seeing someone taken to a place in their mind that they don't normally visit. Proud even more, if I have lured them there. I take pride in what some say "the wrong things" - don't get me wrong, I also take pride in "the good things," like doing well at my job, finding the perfect present for a loved one, feeling like I have nailed a role on stage, and I even, and especially, take pride in others. Though there is another side to pride, and most likely why it is called a sin in the first place, where I place the wrong thing in the center of that pride. A "bad" behaviour (but what really qualifies as bad? I won't get into semantics on "good" and "bad" right now...) is suddenly front and center, is it the adrenline rush from knowing that I am doing, and worse taking pride in, something viewed as "wrong" by most in our (meaning North American) culture? I think we are drawn to the forbidden and taboo because they are just that, and while we may be drawn to them and tempted, not everyone takes the pride in them that I do.
Does all of this mean that I am a sick, twisted individual? Absolutely not. Most people who meet me upon first few meetings think I'm a fairly innocent, good natured, and nice person. And I am. (ha) But surface appearances aside, when you get to the blood and bones level, and what lurks beneath an everyday personality, lies a questionably sinful, languid, prideful individual. One whom I take secret pride in.

Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall. [Proverbs 16:18]

money

I really really really really really don't like worrying about money and/or the fact that I am STILL struggling to barely make it. Why can't I get it together?!?!?!?! I am terrible with money and I want to be saving money, not just barely breaking even.
ARGGGGGGGGGH.

Ok vent over.

17 WHA?!

I just read an article (thank you Yahoo) about a couple in Arkansas that just gave birth to her 17th child - 17th!!!! What?! Who has 17 kids??? And there are only 2 sets of twins. I am just so flabbergasted. (People should really use that word more often.) My god. I just don't even know. That is a boat load of kids. The woman is only 40 and the kids range in age from 19 down to the one born today. Apparently they are fairly well-known, esp. after a discovery health channel program about them. They are from the mid-west (weird) and are God-fearing (strange I know) and have a huge, 7,000 sq. ft home or some such huge farm. AND they are debt-free apparently (which really blew my mind). I guess this guy is a former State representative or something. The most shocking thing about this whole story is that the woman has been pregnant for 10 years of her life!!!!!!!!! 10 YEARS PREGNANT! And she's only 40 - that means a 1/4 of her life has been spent being totally pregnant and all things that go along with it. I cannot imagine. Not only that, but they have no plans on stopping! They want more!
I always wanted a big family, but this is beyond my comprehension. I cannot even fathom.
I mean, best wishes and all that, and if they are a happy family that's great and all... All I ask, is why oh why did they insist on giving all of their children names that begin with 'J' ? (I'm just not a huge fan when parents name all their kids with names starting with the same letter... but 17?!)

Dog shoots owner, Fiance laughs

This is the most ridiculous story EVER.

A. The girl seems entirely unconcerned for her fiance's well-being despite the fact that he was just shot in the back by her dog.
2. She's laughing the entire time.
3. WHY WAS THERE A LOADED GUN SITTING OUT ON THE TABLE WITHIN REACH OF CHILDREN AND A GIANT GREAT DANE?!?!

Oh America.

conflicted

So as I have been contemplating a move out to LA for some time now it hit me recently how hard it's going to be. I mean, I know all the expense of moving etc. etc. and stuff like that, but mostly I began to think about my sister and how far apart we'd be. Not that I wouldn't visit home or not that she wouldn't visit me, but still. It won't be easy being so far from her. Far from anyone for that matter. I can't really explain it though because I feel as though I've got to go. Just a feel a pull out there and I've got to listen to that. It becomes a wrestle of doing something for myself and living my life the way I want to live it, but also feeling an obligation of remaining on the East Coast. I know I have to do it now, and it feels right to move out west now rather than 10 yrs from now with who knows what kind of responsibilities... And then of course, I have yet to stay put anywhere very long so chances are I'd be done after a year anyway, but then again, maybe not. I JUST DON'T KNOW.
I don't want to leave my boyfriend and my pup. I don't want to be so far from my mom and sis. I don't want to be even further from my dad. And my grandparents. My whole life is on the East Coast, so why uproot it all and head out west?? I love the East Coast, but I just want to see how the other half lives ya know? I have some friends out there now, I LOVE warm weather, and I am a laid back, relaxed kinda gal, I think it will agree with me. At least for now.
I've got to go. It's either that or back to NY - and while I love NY - I LOVE NY- I want to try a diff. city, some place new as always. If I really am going to be acting, and really acting, and not just saying that while I do something else, then I have got to be in one of those two cities, I really believe that after being in NY then now in Philly. It has to be one of the 2, and I've already lived in one of the places, why not try the other one. I understand that simply the AMOUNT of work out in LA is even more than in NYC because you not ONLY have the theatres, but you have a majority of the television shows, and still the mecca for movies (and I am NOT moving to Canada anytime soon...)
This isn't a very good explanation of anything I'm feeling at all, mainly because it's jumbled and confusing and all over the place, but I still felt the need to mind-dump all over the page because I am feeling so strongly that I want to go, and my roomate and 2 of my best friends will be with me out there, but it has started to sink in that a lot of people I love won't be coming with me. It will be a strain on my relationships with my family, and my boyfriend. It WILL be difficult.
But then, maybe I need that...
sigh...

Oscar the cat, harbinger of death

Apparently there is a cat that can predict death.

I don't know about you, but I'd hate to be living in this nursing home. "Get away from me Oscar!!!"
I mean, it doesn't surprise me as animals are the best things in the world and dogs and cats have more in tune senses and are generally more away when weather is coming or something doesn't seem right to them. HOWEVER, I would not want an angel of death cat wandering around as I lay dying. I'd prefer a dog. Cause you know that about an hour after your dead that cat will be all up on you trying to eat your face.

This cat didn't even WAIT til this woman was dead!

Thank You Recording Academy

Sweet deal!!!
One of the offices where I work is down the hall from the Recording Academy, and lemme tell yah - good for us today!!!
They are getting ready to move into a new office, and while I was over in the area for a meeting someone told me they were giving away all their leftover cd's! WHOA!
So excited, and not one to EVER EVER turn down free music, I hopped on over to see if I could find some good stuff - boy did I!
I got about 20 cd's - which at first I felt a little bad about but there were boxes and boxes and they WANT us to take it, so screw that, FREE MUSIC! I got a bunch of rock, some jazz and world music, some blues, a couple country, and a few classicals - SO EXCITED. While I don't normally listen to CD's anymore - thank you iPod - I do still listen in my car and have many in my fam that DO listen to CD's (again, mainly in car, but still!!!) and so I was able to get some presents for people too! SUH-WEEEEET.

In other news I am exhausted, despite getting a fair amount of sleep lately. Just don't want to get up in the morning, which really is nothing new, but it's been EXTRA hard lately. Full time job and this touring children's show is proving to be quite the committment - not that I'm complaing mind you, but it is taking up a lot of my time (obvi). I just feel stretched thin a little - falling behind in other aspects. I'm trying to be supportive of my entrepreneurial boyfriend (who is doing quite well, I just wish I could be there to help him out a little more with the pup and other things). I did take the pup to the vet on Monday morning instead of coming into work - he has a cough!!! No kennel cough thankfully, but a little respiratory infection, so had to get him some antibiotics and keep him quiet this week (no doggie daycare til Friday!!!) which is a task that is nearly IMPOSSIBLE.

Once again I feel like I haven't been very social at all with my roomie, but she is busy too, so no worries there I guess. I'm headed out of town (AGAIN) this weekend to spend some time with my mom one on one while my lil sis is in Cali. We are going to New Hope, PA and Lambertville, NJ for some antiquing, shopping, good dinners and a stay at a B and B. Things both my mom and I enjoy, while my sister prefers a much more ACTIVE type of mini-vaca, which she is getting right now out in Cali at my Aunt and Uncle's house/farm - riding horses, mucking stalls, helping with various animals, and hopefully utilizing their beautifully re-landscaped pool area - all while trying to rehab her left knee from her ACL tear. =( Poor kid, I can't imagine...
Anyway, should be a nice weekend. Where oh where did summer go?!?!?!

Started HP but haven't read past the 7th chapter- DON'T ANYONE TELL ME A DAMN THING OR I WILL CUT YOU - and am very anxious to finish that but am awaiting my copy (I started my dad's copy in Pittsburgh last weekend) from my mom - AH! Also trying to avoid the internet so I don't hear any spoilers.

La Lohan was arrested AGAIN. Oh Lindsay, my love for you continues to head in a downward spiral - WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO DRIVE YOURSELF?!!? You are rich enough to hire a DRIVER. ALL THE TIME. This is what I don't get about celebrities and drunk driving - YOU HAVE THE MEANS TO TAKE A CAB ALL THE TIME. Hell, you have the means to have a private car and driver - USE IT! Jesus.

Ok well this is random and all over the place, I have to pee and I'm getting hungry for lunch.

ICKY THUMP

is a great great great great album. The acting partner I've referred to in earlier posts pulled a fast one on me and was kind and gave me the album after I exclaimed how much I liked it after listening to it in his car.
I gotta say though, wow. I've never been a HUGE White Stripes fan. I didn't really care for them when they first blew up, and it's only been in the last few years while Jack White has been doing other things like country music and creating some of the most beautiful music EVER on the Cold Mountain Soundtrack and being excellent in the same movie, that I really started to listen. So I was intrigued when Icky Thump came out and now that I have it and have listened to it about 10 times - wow. It's great. I highly recommend going out and buying it RIGHT NOW.
Thank you, that is all.

WE HAVE STEVE JOBS

So this weekend was a great one for sure.
Friday night I saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and of course, I have nothing bad to say about it at all. Well, I do, but not much. I know it's a ginormous (spell check just told me to fix the spelling because that isn't a real word - HA! jokes on you auto-correct because it is now) book and there is no way you can include everything. I realize that. HOWEVER, there were some things that were in the movie that they didn't really expand upon that needed some explanation. Nothing major - just a few lines of text or something could have helped. I mean, if you read the books then you are fine, but if you don't then you don't know that when Fred and George do their big "TA-DA" at the school that they are actually LEAVING school, dropping out and starting their own shop. You just see them flying into the air. Anyway. Just a couple of minor things like that. All in all though - excellent and exciting, and dark. It gave me some reminders as to what is going on etc. and I loved all the "new" characters. Umbridge was great, as was Luna. And I really like Ginny (well, I always do, but she's always so kick ass). My friend, K and I discussed the book/movie at length and he was reminding me of stuff that happened that they left out - one thing being how Ron joins the Quittage team and actually wins! Things of that nature... I had forgotten that. Ok, enough about HP - the book comes out this weekend and I can't concentrate on anything else and can't read anything else until it comes out and I finish it. GAH it will be so bittersweet. Ok I need to stop, I get myself so worked up.
Anyway, Saturday I went up to NY to rehearse a show with The Gossip Factory and I had a lovely time. Our hosts K. and L. put out a lovely spread of h'or deurves, snacks, and nosh. Throw in some wine and rehearsal got underway with a couple of new people that are going to be an AMAZING addition to our show. I'm very glad for that as I was a wee bit nervous at first. Turns out? No need at all - they fit in with us very very well. It shall be grand. We got some work done and caught up and I think we now have a good direction to head in. After awhile we decided to head to the beer garden (in Astoria) and what a fabulous place indeed! After living in NY for a year I can't tell you how many times I was told I NEEDED to go to the beer garden (my partner at work lived in Astoria and would tell me all the time) and I never ever got there. Until now. And boy am I glad. So great. I, for one, love drinking outside, so this was perfect. Beer gardens are the greatest places in the world - I am now convinced these are my favorite places to drink - that or breweries. In Brooklyn there is a brewery - The Brooklyn Brewery, duh - and on Friday nights you can go and pay like $20.00 for a bunch of tokens and then when you enter you are essentially in a giant warehouse with picnic tables and one small make shift bar set up with taps of all the beers they brew and you give them some tokens in exchange for beer and it doesn't feel like you are paying because you are using tokens, and you are set to go battle your way to a picnic table. They don't serve food or have anything else going on so a lot of people order food to be brought in and get pizza delivered and a lot of people bring games and set up playing with like, massive amounts of people. So basically the beer garden is the same idea except it's outside, the bathrooms are cleaner, and a lot of people play beer pong, flip cup and other such games that no one plays in the brewery. And they serve traditional German food. aka Horse penis with 'kraut and mustard. YUMM.
Things quickly got underway and before long we found ourselves playing our own game of "We have ____." Fill in the blank. So basically this consisted of the people on my side of the table saying, "yah? Well, we're better because we have _____." fill in the blank. This basically came down to a quick fire of "we have THIS" and "we have THAT" back and forth that made absolutely no sense even if you happened to be there. Essentially one team took technology/modern/republican side whilst the other side took "nature's" side. It was funny at the times though. And I think my side of the table trumped all when we shouted, "WE HAVE APPLE! AND STEVE JOBS." and no one could come up with anything better. We declared ourselves the winner and set about getting a game of flip cup started.
The other fun game was singing the cell phone ring that the old man on Family Guy sings when he is trying to get away from Chris because he has a new paper boy. Yah, that didn't get annoying to those around us AT ALL, but we enjoyed it, esp. when accompanied with a circular hip dance.
We all had a sleepover together complete with a stuffed animal given to all of us by our host. Which, of course, once we awoke next to our respective stuffed animal we all made have stuffed animal sex and have a conversation about who gave who herpes (the animals, not us). Ohhhh the fun that ensues when a bunch of theatre kids get together.
So while I'm sure only about 1/2 of this blog makes sense to about 1/2 of you that read it. Just know I had a great time in Astoria with great friends. And that I love Harry Potter.

Obsession Thy Name is Harry

Wow. I mean, every time I think my obsession for Harry Potter begins to calm something douses gasoline on the flame and it rears it's magical head once more.
Oh Harry Potter how I love thee, let me count the ways:
1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's (Philosophers) Stone
2. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
3. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
4. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
5. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
6. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
AND SOON - EXACTLY ONE WEEK AND ONE DAY FROM TODAY-
7. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

siiiiigh, what WILL I do with myself after the end of the series? I do love the movies and will enjoy that they still have 2 more to go (I'm going to see the Order of the Phoenix tonight!!! YAY!!!) but am sure I will feel so bittersweet whilst reading the last of Harry's adventures.

I thought I had calmed down a little bit, but then I just read synopses of all the books once more just to jog my memory a little bit before reading the last book, and I realized that this WHOLE time while waiting for the final book I could have been reading the other 6 books again! I had been on the bandwagon (of my own creation) that I would only read them once - after all, there are sooooo many books out there and soooooooo many that are on my list to read, why should I re-read Harry Potter of all things?!?! OH YOU FOOL!! What were you thinking?!
And now with just one week it is impossible (for me anyway, I'm a terribly slow reader, well, not THAT slow, but a week for all 6 books?!?!) to read them ALL before the 7th.
It's not like I can wait to read the 7th one, because you KNOW some yo-yo out there will most certainly spoil it for me and I will be forced to murder them ("AVADA KEDAVRA!" - shut up.), though I'm fairly certain my motive would stand up in a court of law. I'm sure JK Rowling would approve.
Potter-mania, why must you hold my heart in your deathly tight grasp??

Calamari anyone?

Squids weird me out.
Here is one that washed up on the coast of Australia recently.
While I like to eat them, this just looks prehistoric and strange and is basically the weirdest creature ever.

Ginormous Step for Mankind

Wow. So this morning I open yahoo as I do every morning to get my minor dose of news that doesn't entirely center on the way in Iraq. (don't get me started, don't EVEN get me started.) Generally I like yahoo's variety in "news" because a lot of time they have some interesting random articles.
The first article that pops up is about the new Merriam-Webster Dictionary edition that will be coming out this fall. But what REALLY caught my eye was the word they chose to highlight in one of many additions - GINORMOUS. That's right folks, "ginormous" is now an official word according to Merriam-Webster. Now some might scoff at this saying it's just a combo of gigantic and enormous, and technically it is, however, it's so much more than that. Being a strong proponent of this word, I was elated to discover it's inclusion in the new edition of the dictionary. And most especially (and I'm sure this might be the same for many of you) because I love the movie Elf so very much. This movie is most likely the first place many heard the word in use. Buddy the elf says it while examining the toilets, "Have you seen these toilets? They're GINORMOUS!" and my love for the word was born. I incorporated it into my every day use. So I'm thrilled that I am actually "correct" now. However, apparently the word has roots in World War II and first appeared sometime in the late 1940's - wow!
This really struck me though because a few weeks ago I was talking to my family and my younger sister said, "wow that is ginormous!" in reference to something. My mom waited until she was out of earshot and whispered to me, "Do you think she knows that isn't a real word?? And that it's a combination of two other words?" To which I replied, "hmmm, I don't know, she's got to know, but then, maybe she doesn't. I'll tell her later." And I did, I asked my sister if she knew it was a made up word and she laughed and said of course she did, but when I asked her if she knew which two words it was made up of she had a little more trouble coming up with an answer. Though eventually I think she did... anyway this is why I had "ginormous" on the brain, and I'm just all around excited that words like "ginormous" "crunk" and the all important "smackdown" are now in the English language as official words.

Beach Bum at Heart

Growing up near the beach instills in your a quality you can't really explain to people who didn't grow up on the coast. I'm not quite sure what the 'je ne sais quoi' is. Which is the whole point of 'je ne sais quoi,' but my point being - it's great. When I visit home and head on down to the beach I start to relax. Any tensions from the day/week/month begin to melt away and I feel like I'm really "coming home" - I am the most comfortable in an area where there is sand and water. And yesterday I got to enjoy just that. MY beach (yes it belongs to everyone, but part of that feeling is a sense of ownership) was grand yesterday. I got up at 8 (if I'm beach bound you better believe I'm up with the sun. And for a normal bed/sleep junkie like myself, that's really saying something.) after only 4 hours of sleep and a night of debauchery, roused my roomate, and strolled out to the sand. (And yes I use spf 30 and I reapply) I plunked down a towel and didn't move until about 11am when my friend J. joined us. We even got in the water (the Atlantic is normally tres cold) because it was so hot out. Felt GREAT. That plunge of being freezing first and then the numbing of your toes until the temperature is comfortable. Lovely. After our dip and a dry in the sun, we headed up to the Starboard for Bloody Marys and some lunch. After that, straight back to the sand for a glorious afternoon of sun bathing, swimming, talking, and laughing. It felt so great.
Joy of joys. I am also currently working on getting a real tan this summer - not because I think it looks good (though it certainly does) and not for any vain reasons, but mainly because I will spending a month on St. John's in the Caribbean, and being a girl with fair skin, I've GOT to have color on my skin before I head down there. It's not even a choice but a necessity, though I supposed I can embrace this "chore" if I must. Otherwise I will literally burn to a crisp down there. I've been down to El Caribe many many times, but never for this long. I get to live in basically a tree house! I'm so stoked. It hasn't hit me yet (probably because I haven't made my flight reservation, that's this week though!) and when it does -watch out, I will be in full on dynamite mode. Granted I have to finish my show I'm in right now for the summer, quit work, and perform another round of '4f' with the Gossip Factory, but I am island bound and I couldn't be happier. It has been a goal/dream of mine to live in the Caribbean (hey! a month counts! after all, I may not come home!!!) for as long as I can remember and I'm going to get to live it out. I want to learn to sail, and maybe if I can find someone to teach me, to surf. I'll be working in exchange for my stay there and I will probably be cleaning toilets, BUT I'll be cleaning toilets in paradise!
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can't wait! This will be me in about 3 months!!!

Pugs Galore

Someone recently sent me this article from The Onion about a massive recall of Pugs. A joke obviously. If you don't know The Onion - well, you should, I'm not going to explain it, you have the power to google/wikipedia.
Anyway. This struck me as pretty funny because, well, I used really really dislike Pugs. I actually hated them as a dog breed - and I don't really hate any dog breed because I love all dogs (except poodles. Absolutely under no circumstances are poodles EVER ok. They are the work of Satan. With the exception of 2 large black standard poodles that were special to me as a young girl - friends of the family owned them, Cozy and Elmo. Yes, as I was saying, with the exception of those two, Poodles should stop being bred immediately, thank you.) but the Pug was just weird to me. Not quite ugly enough to be cute like the Boston Terrier. However, slowly as the years passed my opinions began to change, and then, despite their various health issues, the little smoosh faced bug eyed puppies began to grow on me, and now, I rather like pugs. HOWEVER, what really changed my mind was my search for the perfect dog for me. I love bigger dogs, but know I will be in no position to own one until I have a house with a yard (don't get me started on large dogs in small spaces, don't even get me started...) and thus began looking (I spend many days searching Petfinder.com - it's my secret addiction - I don't feel the need to discuss it thank you.) for a dog that was smaller, but RESEMBLED a larger breed. Having grown up with Cocker Spaniels, Old English Sheepdogs, and various other sundry creatures, I had really come to love hounds. The problem is most hounds are at least 50-60lbs to start. I know I know, not all of them, but the kinds I liked. I basically wanted a Mastiff/Vizla/Weimaraner/Bloodhound etc. only smaller. Well, such a dog did not exist. I searched and searched. I looked at every dog breed known to man. I looked at mutt after mutt, and nothing, no dog looked like a little mini (and I say that NOT meaning toy, tiny, rat dog - I don't have a lot of use for dogs that look like their legs could break if you really wanted to snap them) hound - you might say, "hey! A beagle is a hound." And I would say yes, but I didn't like their coloring or their howling. I had a Cocker Spaniel that had the most ridiculous howl that always sounds like he was being scalped alive if you left him alone in a room, no thank you. And then, oh and then! I came across what people were calling a "Puggle" - and my heart surged with joy! Oh dog of dogs, you are my canine soul mate - you are the perfect breed for me! Deep tan colors with black points, solid little body, the perfect hound shape, a wrinkled forehead, with big deep set human like eyes, a hound snout, and a perky tail to wag - all in a 15lb-20lb package- could it be any better?! Could there be a better fit?!?! NO! And then to read about their temperament - they love to run and play, but tire quickly and then are ready to snuggle on your lap, or next to you in bed. SHOOT AN ARROW THROUGH MY HEART I AM IN LOVE. And my love for the Puggle was born. And finding out they were a cross between a Pug and a Beagle blew my mind - how could 2 dog breeds I do not particularly care for produce such a little glory beast!? So I now have a wonderful little Puggle in my life (see photo) named George (my favorite name in all other languages) and I couldn't be more in love with him. He is a little wonder dog.
Ok so basically what I was getting at is that I have a new appreciation for Pugs considering by dog is half Pug and found this story really funny. Esp. when you click on the slideshow - it's a must!

*I feel I must give a disclaimer that every dog I've ever had has been known as "the best dog in the world" and I mean no disrespect or lack of love to my other dogs Polo (an Old English) Lucy (a Yellow Lab) and most especially my little monster girl, Cori (a Cocker Spaniel) - who is known as the "eternal puppy" because even at age 13 (soon to be 14) she is still the spunky, sweet chow hound she has always been. She is a special dog, and belongs to me and me only (sorry Mom- even though I don't live there anymore she's still mine) and I love her more than anything.

Death by Poop Gas

I cannot IMAGINE something like this happening. These poor people. It's an awfully tragic story, happened just down the road from where I went to college. Death by methane. AKA the cows pooped too much, it rained, and gas concentrated in a single area. Being a silent killer, the methane awaited as the farmer and his ENTIRE family came down to check something out, eventually killing all 5 of them. I mean, I know there are dangers of working on a farm, but this is just particularly sad. I hope there were no surviving family members, I really hate when I hear a story of a tragic death and it's just the dad and daughter who have died or just the mother and one of the babies kind of deal- I always feel SO bad for the ones living. That really sucks. At least in this case everyone died so no one has to be left back to mourn.

Bearded Ladies

So, I have seen 2 bearded ladies in the past week. 2! I don't think I've ever seen a bearded lady in the wild before, and here they were sportin' it as if it were the latest trend in fashion. Granted one of them was definitely homeless and there was probably not much she could do to fix said beard. She sort of had a long goatee and was also sporting a hot moustache. The other one I saw was seemingly a normal pedestrian/tourist woman. Her's was more of a full on kind of beard, dark, but no stache. What the f?! Where was she going in that thing? (I might also point out that she was wearing a fanny pack. GLORIOUS!) The carnival I'm sure...

Anyway, I just had to share because damn.

Love Affair

Things I am totally loving right now:
-Water. I love to drink it, be near it, be on it, be in it, be touching it etc.
-1/2 and 1/2s (half lemonade, half iced tea)
-The Office. Tuna (my roomate) and I were in tears last night. How can a comedy be so good? How can a comedy make you feel for the characters so much? I swear my heart stopped beating while watching the show last night (first time I had watched Jim tells Pam he loves her episode) which ties into the fact that I wish far too hard that life was really like tv/movies. I mean, who doesn't right? But I seriously need to NOT let myself think that stuff like that happens in real life... sigh... if only. I'm a dreamer, what can I say, def. not a realist here. I guess I just miss that whole feeling of, he likes me, doesn't he? No, he can't. The not knowing, and the "up in the airness" so much that it actually hurts because you have a crush on someone and the possibility of him liking you back etc. The whole high school feelings... I mean, I'm happy with life now, don't get me wrong, but part of me really enjoyed all of the uncertainty- it was fun, and exciting. The not knowing, the guessing, the hoping, the roller coaster of feelings. I love that.

-Strawberries and fruit in general
-Olives
-Summer
-1/2 days at work
-Getting some sun on my otherwise pale body!
-Preparing to spend a month in St. John's!!! Got to get that tan now so I don't burn to a crisp down in El Caribe!
-Wine
-My puppy, my little lovebug George.

Finding Your Way Off Stage

I may have to murder my acting partner. It's at the point of the show now that it's kind of just ridiculous if you don't A. know your lines B. know when to exit the stage/come back on 3. know what scene comes next. D. listen to or do anything the director originally told you to do.
I am so beyond frustrated. It's anger inducing, and I don't even get angry!!! And when he says, "chill out, you're being a perfectionist" I want to strangle him because I'm not trying to get it perfect, I'm trying perform the play that we were given- I'm just trying to get through the damn thing so kids understand your ramblings. It's not improv. If it were, that'd be fine. But it's not. And it's not a matter of being perfect, it's a matter of performing a play that looks remotely like the one given. It's knowing what's going on in the scene so that IF you DO mess up a line or forget one you can give one that sounds remotely like the one you were supposed to say. OR being conscience enough to know what happens next so you can make it up. Not repeating yourself. Not going back and adding the line later because you're so sure that you need to get your all important line of "what does this mean?" out which has no real necessity to the plot once I've already saved your ass!
I have no trust or faith in my partner. And seeing as how there is only two people in the show- that really sucks. And I really hate not being able to trust my partner. What if I forget a line?!?! Dear lord, the whole show goes to shit. So there is really no room for error.

However, now that I've bitched, I must focus on the good. I MUST!
This should be my new mantra:

The important thing is that the kids still like it. The important thing is that the kids still like it. The important thing is that the kids still like it. The important thing is that the kids still like it. The important thing is that the kids still like it.
OR
This experience is improving your skills as an actress. You will only get better because of it. This experience is improving your skills as an actress. You will only get better because of it. This experience is improving your skills as an actress. You will only get better because of it. This experience is improving your skills as an actress. You will only get better because of it.

It's going to be a long summer.

Parents Today

The news is FILLED with crazy parents today.

1. A mom in Tennessee was fed up with her teenage daughter's bad behaviour and felt she had tried everything to get her to change a bit. A. The girl is 13- she's obviously going to act up, but still this I thought, was brilliant. Say what you want about how TERRIBLE it is for the girl and blah blah blah, but it's not like she's hitting her or tearing her down. It'll teach the girl a little humility, and I like it. Kids are baby-ed WAY too much these days being told they are "special" and "can do no wrong" ANYWAY. The mom made her daughter stand outside with a sign that said, ""I don't obey my parents, I'm a liar. I steal from my mom. I have a bad attitude." And while I think she could have written "I lied" instead of "I'm a liar." - I hate to pigeon hole, I think it's brilliant. Apparently she's also making the girl wear it to church on Tuesday as a punishment. ha!!!

2. This was actually in the news yesterday, and I heard it on the radio. A couple from New Zealand decided they wanted to have an unconventional name for their impending child and thus decided to use the happiest moment of their lives (apparently it was their reaction when they first saw the baby on the sonogram) to name the child, "4real". No, I'm not kidding, they didn't even want to try and make it "Fahreal" or "Forreal" they wanted to put a fucking number in the poor bebe's name!!! WHO DOES THAT?!?!? Thass soooo crazy I don't even know where to begin. We have enough Lemon-jellos and Toshibas (no offense to those named that, I just feel bad for you and your parents should be shot) in this world without adding numbers to names!!! Thankfully the New Zealand court system would not allow the couple to make the baby's official name "4real" on the grounds that names should not have any numerals in them. So officially that won't be her name, I just fear that this little girl will actually go by "4real" until she turns 16, realizes what a terrible name she has and go on a murdering rampage wherein she stabs her parents 4 times each screaming, "THERE'S 4 FOR YOU!!! HOW DO YOU LIKE THE NUMBER NOW?!!?!"

3. Lastly a baby girl in London was given 25 nicknames all of them names of famous boxers. Her first name is Autumn, which is already bad enough. I think the only seasonal name I like is Summer. Autumn is my favorite season, but I would never deem to name my child that. Jeez-oo. The girl's full name is Autumn Sullivan Corbett Fitzsimmons Jeffries Hart Burns Johnson Willard Dempsey Tunney Schmeling Sharkey Carnera Baer Braddock Louis Charles Walcott Marciano Patterson Johansson Liston Clay Frazier Foreman Brown. Apparently the mom is hoping she'll have a "sense of humor about it" - and while this isn't near as bad as naming your child 4real, and actually kind of a cool in an off the wall way, I still think these parents are setting their children up for a life of torment.

The Office - Episode #3 - Bathroom Etiquette Guest Starring Ivana VonVana

And now, a guest spot, which will be going to my good friend Ivana (names are changed to protect my friends from mass murderers scanning the internet for easy targets) :

Miss Sugah, please write a blog re: office bathroom ettiquite.

for example, why is it that everytime i open a stall, there is approx 1 gallon of urine on the seat? this is NOT, contrary to popular belief, a texaco station. there is absolutely no reason a woman should walk in there and start peeing on everything. you work in this establishment and being that you are here for 8+ hours, I'd venture to guess you will frequent that same stall you desecrated at least one more time today. perhaps it is comforting to return and see your urine mixed in with those of your co-workers? the kind of thing upper management would call a team-building experience, no?

also... you had better believe i SEE you walk out of the stall and not wash your hands, Sue*. oh, and i also see you reach your urine-soaked fingers into the m&m bowl during Sally's* make-your-own-ice-cream-sundae birthday celebration in the conference room. that is NOT team-building. that is team germ-spreading.

*names have been changed to protect the unhygenic.

I must also add my own two cents about a phenomena my best friend A. and I like to call, "the work poop." I, being raised a lady and taught not to discuss bodily functions once past the age of five, initially balked at this idea as the whole thing seems incredibly awkward and I try to avoid doing #2 at work at all costs lest someone walk in - the whole thing just weirds me out. I like to use the bathroom in private. HOWEVER, he pointed out such a valid point I forced to concede and now embrace the idea with open arms. The other day he told me he had made approximately $5.00 while pooping at work. WOW! I said. That's amazing! And he was quick to point out that where else on earth can one get paid for pooping?!?! It's the greatest thing ever, and he feels no need to hurry up and get back to his desk, because he is afforded this right to poop at work, and no one will take it away from him damnit! So my position has changed and I say, "Yes! Please, pay me to poop! I can use the time spent in the loo to calculate exactly how much I make a day excreting waste at work!!"

The Office - Episode #2: Cup Debate

So while I'm on the subject of offices I feel I must relate a scene that proves my life is essentially a deleted scene from either the movie Office Space or the show The Office - both of which I love and have always loved, though never fully appreciated until I worked in such an environment.
Case in point -
The other day the "management team" (I don't get paid anywhere near enough to be considered a manager, simply, part of the team) sat down in the conference room for our weekly meeting, meant to be used as a time to catch up about what's going on, make sure everyone is on the same page, voice any concerns etc. One brave soul brought up the never ending discussion/subject of CUPS. So, being the democratically (HA!) run office that we are a discussion ensued as to the use of the cups, why we keep running out so quickly and what can be done about it. See the cups get delivered by our partner company and they are supposed to bring it over to us when they get deliveries, but the problem is we are apparently the red-headed step child and the cups don't get brought over unless someone from our office calls over to get them. Then they disappear like no one has ever seen a cup before. Someone will literally go in, get a drink and then throw their cup away instead of keeping it for the day.
Not wanting this to be a major discussion I raised a point that I thought could be implemented and then we could move on. I said, "I have an idea. How about we buy some plastic cups, some sponges and some dishsoap. That way everyone can have their own cup and be responsible for washing it at the end of the day etc. We have lots of cabinet space, We'll cut costs by not buying paper cups, cut down on our waste, and all around be a more "green" office!" This was met with a good response and I thought the 5 min. problem/suggestion was over. OH NO, IT WASN'T! The conversation on the validity of using plastic cups/forcing people to bring in their own mugs/cups etc VS. the continuation of the paper cups and how to get them over here as we needed them by encouraging people to use only one cup per day. The conversation continued for 20 mins!!!!! I was astounded. I said nothing else. I stared at the blank used-to-be-white walls and silently prayed the fire alarm would go off (for real, not in the fake way it does periodically throughout the day) and we'd all be forced down to the street while our building burnt to the ground. I managed to catch the eye of our box office manager and he had the same expression I had and we both burst into laughter. Not appreciated by the others who were still in the heart of the manner in an earnest discussion. We quieted down trying to stifle giggles and eye rolls, much like I was back in middle school and the meeting continued.
But seriously, doesn't this sound like a lost scene from The Office?!?!

The Office - Episode #1: The Arctic Tundra

The person who sits in the cube behind me apparently reigns supreme over the thermostat in my little square of cubes. He assures me he keeps it set at 76 degrees (his clock has a thermometer on it) and that that is perfectly normal, and he never changes it. That would be fine if I didn't think he was LYING. There is no way it is more than like 66 degrees in here. Otherwise if I came in wearing long pants and a long sleeved shirt I would be FINE, but I'm NOT. I often end the day with fingers that are numb and turning a lovely shade of purple. I kid you not, my hands are numb by the end of the day. As it is I've only been in the office for approximately 1.5 hours and I get already feel the goosebumps starting on my upper arms (though today I am in a short sleeved dress, so fie on me for not dressing properly when the temperature OUTside is supposed to be 95!!). The reason I question his ability to keep it set on 76 is the fact that the actual gauge/box thingie is BEHIND his cube wall and you have to reach down behind it to adjust it. HOW DO YOU KNOW ITS SET AT 76?!?!! YOU CAN'T. And I'm turning into a cube of ice because of it. I started bringing a sweater to work, the sad thing is that even with my homeless grandma sweater my fingers are still freezing, what's the next step - gloves?!?

DUH DUH DUH!

Ok so this is really kind of stupid, but I ADORE groundhogs (a whole post in and of itself) and this, which I think looks like a whistlepig but might be something else, while at first was only mildly amusing, I watched it a couple more times and was soon laughing my head off. It's good for at least a chuckle.

The Summertime Blues

Summers are generally so carefree to me. When you live near/at a beach growing up summers just have a different feeling than if you live somewhere else. It's so glorious, and almost unexplainable. It's a state of mind, that's for damn sure. I don't think I'll ever recover. Maybe it's just because I am in a job that doesn't "feel" like summer.
My first summer job was working at a seafood place. I worked the counter, and had to deal with a 77 year old senile woman who for no other reason than it amused her, set out to make everyone around her's life miserable. Her husband, on the other hand, adored me, for whatever reason- he didn't often like anyone, I think I won him over by my refusal to stop smiling when he or Miss A (as we all called the woman) ordered me to stick my hand in the sink where shrimp were thawing in luke warm water so that I might break them apart gently as the ice melted. This resulted in my left arm smelling of shrimp and turning blue and red due to the ice/spiky shrimp tales that would prick me. Also it was pickled, my arm, completely shriveled. I had to give it to them, they built the place from the ground up and stood for nothing short of perfection. Their son and his wife worked there as well and also liked me (thankfully) so aside from the fact that employees could only drink the soda (juices and iced tea cost too much) and could only eat saltine crackers, it was actually a great first job. I learned a ton, not only about seafood but how a business should be run, and I still have a soft spot every time I drive by. Not to mention that to this day I've yet to taste better cream of crab soup (no I don't know the recipe- it's kept under lock and key) or cherry cobbler.
Then one summer I decided to do some odd jobs, working at my mom's office, and at my sister's day care center. The day care quickly took over office work, but it was early - I usually had to be there around 7am- and then would leave early in the afternoon. This generally gave me far too much time on my hands and not enough money so I began searching around for another job. In came Jakes Seafood in Rehoboth which would be my home for the following 3 summers. I loved working at Jakes. I was hired thinking I would be learning to serve, well, apparently they really needed me in take out and thus began the best job EVER. I got paid well, tips were decent, and the job was EASY. Granted it would get extremely extremely busy, but the people there when I started, B. and G., well, those 2 taught me everything I needed to know and more and we had the system down to a science. I made life long friends, and quickly endeared myself to the owners (another family run business, though FAR different than the first place I worked). The hours were great! I never had to come in before 11am, and could leave a lot sooner than any of the servers. Usually no later than 10/11pm. I'd head out to someones beach house, drink my face off, crash on someones couch, or at my boyfriends and best friends house and be on my way in the morning to do it all again. You could eat all the sides, salads, and rolls you could want. You could usually steal the seafood bisque when no one was looking, the servers loved you because you'd help out when they needed it without having to tell a manager, and you could catch up on summer reading during slow periods. As summer wound down, I asked right away if I could come back after school in the spring, and they of course said yes. I was back in May knowing this would be my only job and a dollar raise. Also a "take out manager" which really just meant that I had to train the new people. So much fun. The kitchen staff loved the takeout girls because they usually weren't screaming that they messed up an order. We also chatted with them as the take out counter was directly next to the kitchen. We were nice to the kitchen and in turn, were treated with respect (which was a big deal considering who worked in the kitchen) and our orders always came out correct and on time (well, most of the time). As summer plugged on, I got another raise, was given more responsibility and I decided I should probably start waiting tables in order to make more money. In retrospect I should have just stayed in take out, but by the end of the summer I was running food and was given a couple of lunch shifts. Nothing major, but I knew the next summer I had to wait tables. And come May of the following year, that is exactly what I did. I was a champ and within a month I was more than competent and given some great sections. I can't tell you how much money I made that summer, mainly because I spent most of it on booze, shopping, our beach house, and more booze. It was a great summer. I had to come in earlier, I got off later, I smelled worse, had way more responsibility and sometimes longed for the days of takeout, but ultimately, I was making more money, got free shots during tough shifts and I was valued way more. The managers and owners loved me, the kitchen staff didn't automatically hate me since I had long built a relationship with them, and got along with the staff, esp. the lifers who had seen me grow from a high school graduate into a college coed. I worked hard and played harder and I was so happy.
When I graduated college I decided the time had come where I didn't want to spend a summer constantly smelling like kitchen and getting yelled at by weird tourists. I reluctantly informed my manager that I wasn't going to be returning that summer and found myself with a cushiony office job in a real estate office managed by a former high school guidance counselor that knew me and my mom. I loved my new office which was a pretty little building on the Avenue that had huge floor to ceiling windows. I got a desk in one of the windows and was soon administrative assisting my way through the summer. The pay was great, I got to sit in air conditioning all day, and the hardest thing I had to do was get up and walk to the filing cabinet. I was doing a play at the time, met my boyfriend through that, and soon was simply emailing back and forth with him all day long, listening and chatting with my co-workers (an open office floor plan which I loved) and order chicken salads from SOB's. And I would occasionally walk down to Jakes for a crabcake and a visit to my former employers. I was always greeted so nicely and they always told me to come back often. I secretly missed them a little, but was happy not to be in the center of all that craziness and restaurant drama that can suck you in. I spent my money on nice dinners with my friend A. and went out to bars slightly less frequently. It was a good summer, albeit a lot tamer than ones past.
At the end of that summer I moved up the NYC and found myself not wanting to wait tables, wanting to audition and wondering what the hell I would do. I quickly found a wonderful real estate office and decided to get my license. I did really well at first, and closed my first deal in 3-4 days of working there. My senior partner was impressed and I was set to go. The office was beautiful, I worked in the heart of Chelsea, and everyone else there was young and some sort of artist be it musically, acting, or painting. I thought how perfect it was. Except when I couldn't close a deal to save my life after that. It may have been me, it may have been shitty clients, but all in all, I soon was running out of money and not really making any. I closed a deal here or there, but you really have to be self motivated and disciplined, which at the time, I was not. I loved the people there and made some dear dear friends, and treated that year essentially like college without the classes. I went out, I had fun, I met great people. Come summer I REALLY felt fine about the whole arrangement because it was summer, and time to kick back (you know from all my hard work in winter, ha.) and that I did. We'd take days off and head to Central Park. On hot days we'd hit the closest movie theatre. Occasionally I'd show an apartment. We'd smoke in the bathroom and on the fire escape. We drank. I became a myspace fiend. We talked. A lot. I learned a little French. I started a theatre company. I all around loved every second. I worked at Gap for approx. 3 weeks before it became too "stifling" for me.
And then in October decided to move to Philadelphia, get a real job, and see what would happen next. What I found was a whole lot of frustration on my part. I have a steady "good" job working in ticketing for the Kimmel Center. By all standards a great simple 9 to 5 job. Except it drives me crazy to sit in a cube (yes, cubicles, one thing I swore I never would work in) and stare at a computer all day long. This is not me, this is not who I am or what I was meant to do. No sir. I refuse to settle. Right now it's a means to an end. It's teaching me some discipline, and as my dad said, the hardest part of a job, "getting up and going every day." But I still refuse to settle. I'm still barely making rent and bills on time, and I'm doing something I definitely do not love. I'm in a show, which is wonderful. I live with my college roomate again, which is wonderful. And I've definitely explored Philly and eaten at some of the finest restaurants, and drank at some great bars. But this job is not what I thought it would be. I expected to be out schmoozing my clients and making the rounds, but here I sit, in front of my computer (a new one! Excitement of the week!), in my cube with gray walls, one dingy window I can't see letting in little to no light, and a desk full of papers that I really don't care about, I eat at my desk, I have emails from a cranky boss, and a headache from the fluorescent lights overhead. When I get home at 5:30pm all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch tv and relax. Summer has arrived and I find myself in a place where I least expected to be, in a job that sure doesn't feel like summer to me.

Male Dolphins Can Carry Things With Their Penis

So last Gossip Factory (this is the theatre company/collective I am a part of - check us out) meeting we were all brainstorming and coming up with new ideas for our next version of "4f" our show we wrote and performed last fall. WELL, SOMEhow A. mentioned that she heard a story on NPR about a woman who built a house partially submerged in water because she loved Dolphins so much and wanted to be close to them. WELL, apparently she developed a diff. kind of relationship with said dolphin and loved them a little TOO much if you get what I'm saying. An inappropriate relationship some might venture to say, though not everyone apparently.

So I was just doing some research for us to try and find the story so we could adapt it into our new script somehow and THIS is what came up instead (thank you google) - WARNING: may not be safe for work- no photos- just, well, here-

- Essentially it's a "how to" of Dolphin Sex. Some highlights (of course I read it) are below:

You can attempt to lick and suck on the end of it while masturbating as well, but be warned, do not try to give full throat, and get the hell out of the way before he ejaculates! A male dolphin could snap your neck in an accidental thrust, and that would be the end of that relationship.

One thing to note. Whether you masturbate or mate a fin, male or female, always spend time with them afterwards. Cuddle them, rub them, talk to them and most importantly, and show them you love them. This is essential, as it helps to strengthen the bond between you. Like a way of saying that this wasn't just a one night fling. The dolphins appreciate it, and they will want your company more the next time you visit them.

we spent the next 5 or so minutes just lying together in the shallows, holding each other, enjoying our company and revelling in the fact that we had shared something special together, something very few people can claim to have done.

WARNING! In the considerations of safety, you should NEVER let a male dolphin attempt anal sex with you. The Bottle-nose dolphin member is around 12 inches, very muscular, and the thrusting and the force of ejaculation (A male can come as far as 14 feet) would cause serious
internal injuries, resulting in peritonitus and possible death. Unless you are the masochistic type, you will have a hard time explaining your predicament to the doctors in the emergency ward....