why this boy makes me silly
1) We have a thing for the same campy British TV shows like Red Dwarf and The League of Gentlemen
2) He doesn't listen to country music because he doesn't want to support something that is racist. "Have you ever seen the audience at a country music concert, it's a sea of white".
3) When I said I was all Wallace and Grommity about cheese, he got it.
4)He has a filthy, filthy mind. Possibly more filthy than mine. I didn't know that was possible.
5) When he gets excited his London accent gets really thick and it's adorable.
And proof of how silly I am for this boy- I am still not smoking. But the cravings today are killing me so I am playing hermit. I'm even making the kiddo go to the grocery store for dinner because I don't want to be tempted to blow 6 bucks on a pack.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Giant virtual cookie for a dirty old man
When I was south of the border this song was played every hour, on the hour, by every damn radio station from Cancun to Villahermosa to Belize (it was even played on the $2 bus ride we took to cross the border- both there and back).Oh baby when you talk like that
You make a woman go mad
So be wise and keep on
Reading the signs of my body
Did y'all forget what day it is?
It's Fursday! Bring on da funny!
I'm starting with the kind of hoopties I grew up with- big scary trucks. All the cool boys drove trucks with engines so loud you could hear them a mile away. (Oh shit- I am giving away the fact that I grew up in a tiny town- now you will all know that my urban cool was learned as soon as I got to the big city at the ripe old age of 18). I spent many hours with my high school boyfriend and all his friends sitting in the garage while they worked on big scary trucks or putting back together old muscle cars to race. I learned how to grease the hub of a 4 by 4 and what a manifold was. There is a bonus to all this knowledge- I am smarter than the average girl (and a fuck of a lot of boys) when it comes to dealing with mechanics. On at least 2 occasions I have told mechanics exactly what the problem was (alternator on one, starter on the other) and the mechanic then wasted several hours trying to prove me wrong only to have to apologize in the end.
I'm starting with the kind of hoopties I grew up with- big scary trucks. All the cool boys drove trucks with engines so loud you could hear them a mile away. (Oh shit- I am giving away the fact that I grew up in a tiny town- now you will all know that my urban cool was learned as soon as I got to the big city at the ripe old age of 18). I spent many hours with my high school boyfriend and all his friends sitting in the garage while they worked on big scary trucks or putting back together old muscle cars to race. I learned how to grease the hub of a 4 by 4 and what a manifold was. There is a bonus to all this knowledge- I am smarter than the average girl (and a fuck of a lot of boys) when it comes to dealing with mechanics. On at least 2 occasions I have told mechanics exactly what the problem was (alternator on one, starter on the other) and the mechanic then wasted several hours trying to prove me wrong only to have to apologize in the end.
Why I Love Air America
Air America recently filed for bankruptcy protection, supplying fodder for right-wing liars for a few days. Of course, Faux News failed to report that it hemorraghed funds for the first five years of existence, only living off Murdoch's sick plan for media penitration (the same one used in the other markets that he got rich from). Lefties, listeners or not, should be far from discouraged.
I listen to Air America most of the time. Don't feel sorry for me, my computer easily process es multi-streams--I typically listen to LoungeRadio as my other stream. For those in Seattle, stick with the online stream, except between 6 and 9 am; Stephanie Miller is pretty funny.
Speaking of funny, I think Al Franken is one of the funniest men on the planet. He takes self-depricating humor to a new level. The way he gets guest to repeat topics in simpler terms by playing dumb works everytime. At the same time, Al has guests who honestly lift the curtains to reveal what's behind the scenes. Tom Oliphant, Amy Goodman from Democracy Now are regular guests. His show last week linked here included Bob Woodward, of course, but also Frank Rich, who wrote "The Great Story Ever Sold", about how the Bush adminstration stole America. Listening to Al for a week, you can tell how much work goes into his shows. He does his best to provide fair and honest reporting while giving no doubt that he is on the side of humanity. Beyond his show, he and other Air America personalities are guests of the enemies, attempting to stem the lies they use to shaft America.
Yesterday on the Randi Rhodes show, Henry Bechtel called in as a listener. He is a right-wing pastor who just came out with another book that details the thievery perpetuated by the mega-Churches and their axis of evil allies in the Republican party. He called in because he knew that he could be heard on her show. I had never heard of Mr. Bechtel, nor would I have in likelihood have if I just kept my political listening to NPR. Unlike their counterparts, Air America is open to all views, a welcome departure from preaching to the choir.
Air America is here to stay. Progressive radio, not just Air America, is about to take a spot next to the right-wing garbage that now epitomizes talk radio. Progressivism does not mean anti-capitalist. Making money and having a consscience is more difficult, but not impossible.
I listen to Air America most of the time. Don't feel sorry for me, my computer easily process es multi-streams--I typically listen to LoungeRadio as my other stream. For those in Seattle, stick with the online stream, except between 6 and 9 am; Stephanie Miller is pretty funny.
Speaking of funny, I think Al Franken is one of the funniest men on the planet. He takes self-depricating humor to a new level. The way he gets guest to repeat topics in simpler terms by playing dumb works everytime. At the same time, Al has guests who honestly lift the curtains to reveal what's behind the scenes. Tom Oliphant, Amy Goodman from Democracy Now are regular guests. His show last week linked here included Bob Woodward, of course, but also Frank Rich, who wrote "The Great Story Ever Sold", about how the Bush adminstration stole America. Listening to Al for a week, you can tell how much work goes into his shows. He does his best to provide fair and honest reporting while giving no doubt that he is on the side of humanity. Beyond his show, he and other Air America personalities are guests of the enemies, attempting to stem the lies they use to shaft America.
Yesterday on the Randi Rhodes show, Henry Bechtel called in as a listener. He is a right-wing pastor who just came out with another book that details the thievery perpetuated by the mega-Churches and their axis of evil allies in the Republican party. He called in because he knew that he could be heard on her show. I had never heard of Mr. Bechtel, nor would I have in likelihood have if I just kept my political listening to NPR. Unlike their counterparts, Air America is open to all views, a welcome departure from preaching to the choir.
Air America is here to stay. Progressive radio, not just Air America, is about to take a spot next to the right-wing garbage that now epitomizes talk radio. Progressivism does not mean anti-capitalist. Making money and having a consscience is more difficult, but not impossible.
What I'm Reading Right Now
Got there from here
Also reading this: Alito & the Ken Lay Factor
don't know how i got there. Oh, yeah, googled "Unitary Executive"
Term I found in one of the articles linked to here
better post before my battery crashes.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
No one is dead yet
Three days in and no one is dead or even slightly mutilated. I haven't even yelled at the monkey boy (which is why I quit trying to quit the last time I tried to quit- I was bordering on Joan Crawford levels of scary).
I have this sudden massive swell of energy. I woke up at 6:30 this morning to clean my carpets. I was going to use the carpet cleaner, but instead I got a bucket of hot soapy water and a giant scrub brush and started cleaning the carpet by hand. If I hadn't just quit smoking I would think that I am bi-polar and in the midst of a manic phase. Seriously, who scrubs their entire living room carpet by hand? I got about half-way done this morning and am going to finish tonight. Then I am scrubbing the walls.
And just like DeeK said, my sense of smell has gotten much better. It was pretty good before. I could tell if a car has transmission or antifreeze problems by smell. I have a baker's nose and can sense the fine line when cookies are just done without being burnt on the bottom. I can usually figure out the scents that make up someone's perfume.
But having my sense of smell increase is not actually a good thing. I tried to eat an almost Cobb salad at lunch today (almost Cobb because there was no avocado). The smell of the blue cheese and green onions was overpowering. I love cheese, even blue cheese, but I fear that the intensity of the smells may put me off it forever. And then there is the bus, oh my god. I have been riding the bus for the last 3 years since I gave up my car and got a plush job a seven minute walk from my house. I got on the bus the other day and I thought I would be done in by the smells. It was an unholy combination of cheap cologne, dirty feet, vomit, urine and bad breath. It was like climbing into the body of a homeless giant. Needless to say, I've been walking a lot more.
There is one more weird thing. I am not having the smoking dreams yet, or waking up in the middle of the night dying for a cigarette. Instead I am craving weird food. Last night I woke up a 3am with an unquenchable desire for these chocolate covered cherries I get at Christmas every year from our friends in Atlanta.
I am sure you are all thrilled to bits to be reading the diary of a girl trying to quit smoking (insert knowing look of snark here). But just like any junkie it is still a minute by minute struggle not to think about smoking. I have been smoking everyday since I was 14, more than half my life. I read that the relapse rate for smokers is 95%, same as heroin junkies. Since this is at least my 10th time trying to quit, I am hopeful that I actually get to be in the 5% this time. Hell, I am in the 20% of Americans who have a passport, the 10% who read a book weekly, the 9% who are either Agnostic or Atheist. Since I like being in the minority, I think I belong in the 5%.
I have this sudden massive swell of energy. I woke up at 6:30 this morning to clean my carpets. I was going to use the carpet cleaner, but instead I got a bucket of hot soapy water and a giant scrub brush and started cleaning the carpet by hand. If I hadn't just quit smoking I would think that I am bi-polar and in the midst of a manic phase. Seriously, who scrubs their entire living room carpet by hand? I got about half-way done this morning and am going to finish tonight. Then I am scrubbing the walls.
And just like DeeK said, my sense of smell has gotten much better. It was pretty good before. I could tell if a car has transmission or antifreeze problems by smell. I have a baker's nose and can sense the fine line when cookies are just done without being burnt on the bottom. I can usually figure out the scents that make up someone's perfume.
But having my sense of smell increase is not actually a good thing. I tried to eat an almost Cobb salad at lunch today (almost Cobb because there was no avocado). The smell of the blue cheese and green onions was overpowering. I love cheese, even blue cheese, but I fear that the intensity of the smells may put me off it forever. And then there is the bus, oh my god. I have been riding the bus for the last 3 years since I gave up my car and got a plush job a seven minute walk from my house. I got on the bus the other day and I thought I would be done in by the smells. It was an unholy combination of cheap cologne, dirty feet, vomit, urine and bad breath. It was like climbing into the body of a homeless giant. Needless to say, I've been walking a lot more.
There is one more weird thing. I am not having the smoking dreams yet, or waking up in the middle of the night dying for a cigarette. Instead I am craving weird food. Last night I woke up a 3am with an unquenchable desire for these chocolate covered cherries I get at Christmas every year from our friends in Atlanta.
I am sure you are all thrilled to bits to be reading the diary of a girl trying to quit smoking (insert knowing look of snark here). But just like any junkie it is still a minute by minute struggle not to think about smoking. I have been smoking everyday since I was 14, more than half my life. I read that the relapse rate for smokers is 95%, same as heroin junkies. Since this is at least my 10th time trying to quit, I am hopeful that I actually get to be in the 5% this time. Hell, I am in the 20% of Americans who have a passport, the 10% who read a book weekly, the 9% who are either Agnostic or Atheist. Since I like being in the minority, I think I belong in the 5%.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
34.5 hours
without smoking and nobody is dead yet. But the foggy-headed, blurry-vison thing has set in. I feel like my witty reparte has been muzzled.
How long does the blurry vison thing last? It's like someone smudged my periferal vision. I've had some offers on substitutions for the oral fixation (fucking Freud, oral fixation my ass). But it isn't the act of smoking that I miss. There's really only been one moment where the habit of putting something in my mouth was the issue and it took about 2 seconds of rational thought to end that.
I wish nicotine patches came in mega doses, or I could keep the nicotine happiness without the death potential of smoking. If they have methadone for heroin junkies I don't understand why I can't just take a big ole nicotine pill.
How long does the blurry vison thing last? It's like someone smudged my periferal vision. I've had some offers on substitutions for the oral fixation (fucking Freud, oral fixation my ass). But it isn't the act of smoking that I miss. There's really only been one moment where the habit of putting something in my mouth was the issue and it took about 2 seconds of rational thought to end that.
I wish nicotine patches came in mega doses, or I could keep the nicotine happiness without the death potential of smoking. If they have methadone for heroin junkies I don't understand why I can't just take a big ole nicotine pill.
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