Monthly Archive for January, 2004

I’ve mentioned that the shower at 204 is totally kicking my husband’s poor ass, right? He got home around 10pm Tuesday and continued to fiddle with the pipes, flanges and other assorted tub/shower things. Cause he didn’t want to get up the next morning in 19 degree weather and go next door to take a shower, yo. Which is exactly what we did, natch.

Since the shower was a bust, he ordered a pizza. I said “let’s watch a movie.” I opened the box of DVDs and decided we would watch something near the top.

“Hey, did you ever see French Kiss?” I yell. He had not. Movie picked.

As far as romantic comedies go, I think FK is a pretty good flick. I like the way Meg Ryan’s character gets to grow. As Meg Ryan movies go, her character can grate at times. But neither of these reasons is why you should watch the movie. You should watch the movie so you know what I’m quoting when I see some place pretty and go “Beautiful! Wish you were here!” or affect a faux-old man voice and say “You people make my ass twitch.”

We’re eatin’ our pizza and watchin’ our movie and the character of the sister-in-law-to-be says

“I’m never gonna own a house. Something like that, you think you own it, but it owns you.”

Word, sistah. Word.

by
LBC
on 30Jan04
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I really need to go to the library. Sometime next month. Next month, the same time as I plan to go to the bank to beg for financing and the same month I plan to finally go see the movies I want to see and the same month I plan to do anything that I’ve had to put off during the whirlwind that has been January.

The Book Corner just ain’t cutting it anymore. Of the four books I got there last time, 2 totally suck. Only bother reading Blue Angel if you don’t mind books where you’re not gonna like the main character.

The paragraph below describes the chief reason I hated the main character. You gotta highlight it to read it. If you want to avoid the sexual exploits of the main character in Blue Angel, skip on down.

So the dude is married, right? And he’s a professor. He’s never slept with one of his students. He seems half proud and half sad about this fact. Anyway, during the course of the book, he does have sex with one of his students. They’re in her dorm room, clothes are removed, a condom is placed on, male bits are inserted into female bits. And then, while they are having sex, he breaks a tooth. Apparently he’s a teeth grinder. Whatever. But the mood is pretty much broken and they quit. However, for the rest of the book, he keeps saying they “tried” to have sex. When he confesses to his wife, it was that he tried to sleep with a student and that breaking a tooth stopped him. Dude, if your penis was in the chick’s vagina, you had sex. You didn’t orgasm, but you sure as hell had sex. Loser.

No matter your reading tastes, don’t even bother with Blind Dates. It’s actually like 4 mini-books in one. I attempted to read 2 of them, and they were so bad, I just gave up. You would have to know the inordinate amounts of sucktastic fanfic that I have read to realize just how bad this makes Blind Dates.

Which is why I need to go to the library. But Liz let me borrow Endless Nights and lo, it was good.

I’m bummed that I missed last night’s episode of Angel. Kris & I discussed over dinner “Think there’s a new Angel tonight?” “Nah, I don’t remember any previews.” “Me, either.”

And there, of course, was a new ep. One that from the synopsis sounded pretty cool. Ah, well, at least I didn’t miss Cordelia’s return.

Suckass January.

by
LBC
on 29Jan04
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Tell me I don’t need to put myself through another cycle of America’s Mext Top Model. Nah, nevermind. I’m gonna watch anyway. The intrigue of the cattiness, the clothes, the mores, the way Tyra Banks looks without make-up… What I don’t need is any added emotional hoo-ha at this life juncture. I have way enough to stress over without the added turmoil of reality TV. But Catie, you are such a cry-baby. Heather, I was sorry to see you go so soon. You’re too nice for that industry anyway.

My computer has been freaking the hell out. I had to make the weekly graphique without the aid of the internet. Horror!

Kris has been trying to for 2 weeks to convert the tub at Dreamplex 2.0 into a shower. It’s not as if he didn’t have to do the very same thing at 202; I know he can. It’s just that every single thing goes wrong and Lowe’s is not open 24/7.

But he has dismantled my old shower enough that today was the first morning where we had to use the same shower. He showered first. It’s not his fault; he’s not like a hot water hog, but when it’s really cold (like the ass-hole cold it was this morning), the hot water at 202 depletes fast. And doesn’t come back. Aside from a few foul-mouthed words (and okay, yeah, one taking of the Lord’s name in vain), I didn’t complain too much cause I did get to rinse the conditioner out of my hair. But if you guys see my bare legs before, say, March, know that I didn’t become an uber-feminist or Slavic or something, it’s just been too damn cold to shave my legs.

The Times does a fashion section in March, and Cyndi was canvassing for ideas. But you pitch, you provide. So I’ll be working on an What’s IN, What’s OUT list and something about make-up and something about shoes. Only knowing about these things in the nominal sense, I will need to interview people. Hee.

So, um, what’s IN, you guys? And what’s OUT?

by
LBC
on 28Jan04
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Oh, my friendly little ‘blog, I salute thee. Thanks to you, Tami Sparks lent me a copy of Sea-Prince and the Fire Child and Lori T., keeper of cool, informed me that the “keeping up with the Jones” song is “Re-Offender” by Travis.

I heart the information age.

We’re moved. Mostly. We can go potty at 204, but if we wish to shower, it’s back to 202. We can eat take-out on our kitchen table at 204, but if we need to put a left-over eggroll in the fridge, it’s back to 202. I can pick out my outfit at 204, but when it comes to shoes, it’s back to 202. Zany.

And I’m told the soup I fed our movers was really good. I subsisted on a banana sandwich so as not to anger the acid dwarves still living in my stomach. I think I need yogurt to jack up those good acid dwarves so they can help fight the good fight for me instead of remaining holed up in Intestines Deep.

Sorry for the gratuitous LotR joke. I’m still reeling from the folks Kris & I sat next to on Sunday at Golden China. This has probably happened to you, too: y’know those people who want to seem interested in what you like, so they ask all these questions, thinking they’re really doing you a favor, when it’s obvious they have no respect for what you do/love/are/hobby, etc? I mean, I think I’ve gotten my fair share of this over the years:

“So, the Vineyard? What denomination is that?”

“She kills vampires, right? Is that like Charmed?”

“Oh, you’re an artist? Do you paint? Do you love to draw?”

If the person really gives a shit, I will explain that Vineyard is a denomination. I will spend 30 min. telling them how the whole vampire slayer lore works and how tortured it is that Buffy fell in love with Angel. I’ll let them in on my personal inability to paint and the fact that sometimes I like to draw and sometimes I find it a real pain.

If they don’t give a shit and they are just pretending to, I find it tired and pretentious and try to weasel out of the conversation as quickly as possible. But I guess when I’m in the abysmal convo, I usually have some sort of emotional investment. Like maybe it’s a relative I rarely see. Or a coworker attempting to chat it up. Maybe someone who means well.

When it’s some family at a Chinese restaurant who is talking too loud, it just pisses me the hell off.

“Now, a hobbit… what is that again?”

“Those people who showed up at the fight… with arrows… what were they? And the people that Gandalf brought - were they the people of that woman sent off in a boat?”

“It’s too violent for her. She had to leave the room. She really shouldn’t see the third one. Even Merry and Pippin, you know, the hobbits, were fighting. You haven’t seen the 1st one yet? You really shouldn’t go see the 3rd one then.”

“My favorite character was Boromir. Not Faramir.”

“Aragorn was Isildur’s son. They were from Gandor.”

Oh. My. God.

It made me, like, crazy mad. Do I have a problem?

by
LBC
on 27Jan04
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I am such a girl. When I was at Lowe’s, getting keys made, I chose one of the funky key designs. It had butterflies on it. I thought it would set apart my house key. I didn’t want a US flag key and I already have a leopard print key. So, butterflies.

It doesn’t work. The other three copies, all plain silver keys. They work. Bastards.

And then last night I turned on the light in the kitchen. It made a sizzlepop and began smoking and then more sizzling and popping. My checkbook did a quick lament, choked and began sobbing. Poor thing.

But yay, moving tomorrow! Tonight will be spent clearing things off and out of furniture to be moved. Hmm, where to put all those whips and chains???

So, all you cool kids out there already know, but that song is “Do You Realize?” by the Flaming Lips. And I finally heard that “hey ya, shake it like a polaroid picture” song last night. I am as cutting edge as a razor that has been used to scrape tile adhesive off a bathroom shower wall. I’m that edgy, yo.

What I couldn’t find was the song that started off kind of melancholy, with a guy singing “keepin’ up with the jones’” - a line I foolishly thought would help me search for it. Nay, nay. I found Coolio and Waylan Jennings and they weren’t who I was looking for.

The details that I promised would be forthcoming about my having a show at the 215 Gallery are almost forthcoming.

This I know: it will be my collages. It will be called =1000words and it will be at the 215 Gallery, which is on 4th Street.

This I do not know: what day and time. The tentative day and time is Friday, Feb. 6 from 6pm to 8pm. This would also give Jaimie a keen way to remember Tami Sparks’ birthday, as it is the same day.

by
LBC
on 23Jan04
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We all have those nights, right? The ones where we wake up and think “I don’t feel so good.” And then we get up and head to the bathroom for bad things to commence.

By “get up,” I mean maybe we have to roll off the air mattress and then crawl onto all-fours and then get up and shuffle down the hall to the bathroom. No, wait, that’s probably just me.

Anyway, Tuesday night, I had the vomitous maximus. It was gross. There was corn. There was hurling in the toilet and the tub. Many, many gross.

So I missed work yesterday. My co-worker, Jayda, she is an angel, because when I called in sick, she brought me Ginger Ale, saltines and Nauzene, which has a funny name, but a pleasing cherry flavor (it’s like a liquid Ludens - y’know, the cough drop that tastes like candy?). I spent the day sleeping and/or watching the Neverwhere DVDs that Liz & Chris gave me for Christmas. Satine spent the day sleeping on or next to me. Lazy cat.

Since we are scheduled to move on Saturday, it is, of course, supposed to rain. Kris duplexed in the bathroom last night - something with tile and the sink, I think. I remained curled in a fetal ball, willing myself not to throw up, while the song caught in my head was set to repeat.

Do you realize?
That you have the most
beautiful face

It was in some car commercial during Angel. The only episode all season that has felt like a real Angel ep to me was the one with the werewolf girl. All the rest have that strange feel of an end-of-season Angel show, where new plotlines are spouting right and left and what you think you knew you didn’t really know.

Crap, now that song is stuck in my head. I must go Googling.

by
LBC
on 22Jan04
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What with all the trips to Lowe’s and the many hours spent caulking, scraping, sweeping, mopping and all, Kris & I haven’t been to the grocery store in weeks. The milk and the bread are the first to go. You can get creative for awhile, but then there’s just nothing. The turnip has been bled dry. There are pickles and a little bit of sandwich meat in the fridge. In the pantry, there is rice and a can of pumpkin pie filling.

That made coming to work this morning extra special. Cause when I got there, there were pancakes and sausage and bacon and fresh fruit. Thank you, Advertising Peoples Who Had Leftovers From Your Corporate Breakfast. Never have cold pancakes tasted so good.

Tonight, no duplexing. I’m shopping. I’m getting bananas and milk and wheat berry bread and lime tortilla chips and cat food and Tylenol PM and cheese and raisin bran and the Dew and maybe even something from the Little Debbie oeuvre.

But right now, I’m going to the daily budget meeting. :(

by
LBC
on 20Jan04
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None of the toilets at Lowe’s advertise “will give you an ass hickey when flushed” and that’s what Kris desires. Strange boy. We went with the one where everything comes in one box. My preference was a metal handle (plastic seems so flimsy) and a hard plastic seat. I find those vinyl padded seats that go “phhft” when you sit down to be all kinds of wrong.

On a whim (well, a whim and help from Chris Wood), we got the bed moved to the Dreamplex. Snag #1 - they had to tear the hand rail off the stairs to get the box springs past. Snag #2 - we will now be camping out (inflatable mattress, sleeping bags) at 202. I thought Satine got in my way something awful in the bed when I attempt to roll over. That’s nothing to being cocooned in a sleeping bag, cat nestled in the bend of my knees as I try to flip from my left side to my right side. Why do I like having a cat again?

So I’ve been stressed as all get out for weeks now. That’s not true. I’m stressed outside of work as all get out. The impending move. The hemorrhaging of funds that is the Dreamplexes. My cat being attacked. My dad dating. My grandmother’s grief.

The thing is, I can’t do anything about any of that while at work. So from 9am to 5pm (thereabouts) Monday through Friday, all I have to worry about is maps and charts and web pix and scanning and such. Ah, sweet relief.

But I think it’s seeping in. I have had oft-hand memories of that anime flick for years. Why start searching last week for it? And then it dawned on me: I’ve reached my stress limit. When I reach my stress limit, I start to immerse myself in fandoms. Previous immersions have led to copious amounts of fan fiction reading, messageboard posting and late night musings.

I’m not saying that anytime I seep into fandom that I’m being escapist. I’m saying that, as a fangirl, I am more prone to fanfic, posting, and esoteric Googling than I would be to binge drinking, spree shopping or compulsive eating.

I stress, therefore I squee. When reality maxes out on the too-much-o-meter, look for me to be reading fanfic on my current ’ship of choice (last night while I painted trim: brush, dip, brush, dip… “I wonder if there are any good Faramir/Eowyn fics out there” brush, dip, brush, dip…). When things that I have no control over are getting the better of me, check my history files to see proof of visits to fan sites. When the going gets tough, I get posting. User names to look for: Laura, Liorah, DameCatoe.

So, the next time I ramble at you for half an hour about the latest (insert fandom here), just think “oh, Laura must be stressed out.” But don’t say anything, cause then I’ll just bite your head off. (What with the stress and all.)

by
LBC
on 19Jan04
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Oh, to be able to remember at last! That movie that I saw that one time as a kid and all I remembered it as was the Romeo/Juliet type story of a water person (in red) and a fire person (in blue) who fall in love but can’t be together and she maybe turns into a dandelion and her sidekick dances as a flame and argh you can’t Google crap like that…

…is Sea-Prince and the Fire Child or, original title Shiriusu no densetsu. Here, courtesy of a gal named Leilani, is Malta the Fire Child and Syrius the Sea Prince:

Glad to have that out of the way. I had the dancing flame memory right: Malta’s pal Piale pretends to be the Holy Flame when Malta lets it go out. But the dandelion part was actually this: Malta transforms from a fire child to the next Queen of Fire (gets bigger, gets crown, hair color change, etc.) atop a flower that rises during the eclipse. Syrius was supposed to meet her at the flower, where they would have ascended to a star together via this special flower, but damn that Romeo/Juliet-esque timing debacle.

What I found out now that I know what the movie was: I was sort of onto a lead when I decided to search for Unico and hopefully find similar items. Both movies were produced by Sanrio.

A couple years back, I know Sharon procured a copy of Unico. I wonder if she ever saw Sea-Prince and the Fire Child.

We watched the Angel tape last night. It was a Harmony-centric episode - need I say more?

Kris & I have a big date tonight. We’re watching Joan of Arcadia and then going to Lowe’s to buy a toilet. Oh, yeah. We live the high life.

by
LBC
on 16Jan04
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I am beyond on it! I’ve already made the illustration for next month, and then turned it into a desktop, as well. Tat-dow!

I don’t buy a calendar for work. Every 2 months, I just print out 2 plain-jane months… just boxes and days. But yesterday, I found an Angel calendar you can print out, and now I have Wesley and Gunn giving me sexy eyes for the next month and a half.

Finally, finally, the winter doldrums of no new Angel eps broke last night. And I, um, taped it. Well, hoped I taped it. Was too tired to check after we schlepped back over from ripping things up at Dreamplex 2.0. Basically, we’ll be doing as much renovation in the bathroom as the kitchen. Thankfully, the bathroom is smaller. And totally shredded.

And I wish I had a scrap of the 3rd layer of wallpaper we found in there. It is so mod! All green and swirly. It was under a pink floral motif, which I would have pegged for a 40s or 50s design, but must have been 70s, because of the mod being underneath it. Both of which were under a drab, non-descript gray.

February, please arrive soon. I am so stressed out over prepping and moving.

by
LBC
on 15Jan04
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