Talk about a long story... girl meets boy about 20 years ago and happiness ensues. Then graduation approaches and boy breaks girl's heart. Boy goes off on his own path, girl goes off on hers. For the next two decades they both make mistakes, do stupid things, seek peace, search for themselves only to find out through coincidence that they've both been randomly, throughout the years, looking for each other (without luck, obviously).
I know... Lifetime Movie of the Week, right? But wait... there's more...
Boy sends girl email apologizing for breaking her heart so many years ago and girl doesn't respond with a "That's nice. Piss off."
Boy and girl exchange increasingly meaningful emails; then 4 and 5 hour long phone calls each night; then the moment of truth -- boy surprises girl by flying to San Francisco to see her. Its not overly dramatic to say that time stood completely still and everything, everyone else melted away when girl saw boy walk off the plane and towards her at SFO.
So, long story made a bit shorter... several visits and many frequent flyer miles later boy and girl are engaged to be married. Because neither of them ever knew happiness or unconditional love like this and, like, whoa... it's awesome.
Sounds like a fairytale, right?
It would be a new Disney blockbuster classic if it were animated.
But I'm not down with animation... and since its a completely true story -- my story -- I reserve the right to choose who gets to play me in the movie. I'm thinking Julia Roberts...
4/10/2009
2/11/2009
More tales from the Yoop...
It struck me today, after my previous post, how fun it is to think back to my junior high and high school days and remember all of the stupid things I've never gotten in trouble for. There are, however, some things I caught hell for...
Like the time Polly Hollon and I (at least, I think she was in there with me) got busted smoking in the first floor bathroom by Mrs. Magnusson.
[Man she was mean. She hated us all I think. Me especially because she thought I was lazy. I may have been lazy but when we're forced to read The Great fucking Gatsby I have a hard time working up some top notch literary reviews. If only she could see my reading list now. She's probably critiquing my blog from the great beyond, may she rest in peace.]
She storms in to the bathroom (which NO one ever checked... except for the home-ec teacher who must have had some world-class bladder control since she rarely ventured out of the home-ec room) and we had absolutely no time to react because Mrs. M always wore those ugly soft-soled nurse shoes (they were grey and hideous... they looked like cinderblock bricks on her feet). So we're busted and in addition to getting suspended for 3 days (woot! who doesn't love getting suspended? I mean... that's, like, supposed to be punishment? Three whole glorious days of sleeping until noon, watching Jerry Springer and finding new ways to annoy the elderly neighbors next door with ear splitting Poison or Motley Crue? woo hoo!) we are forced to clean the first floor bathroom.
Um. Like. Eww?
So we start to clean. With bleach *and* ammonia. Hah! Aren't we clever? We didn't bother to read the labels (why? It wasn't on Mrs. M's required reading list?) so we weren't aware of the chemical reaction that would basically create a toxic cloud of fumes requiring that entire side of the first floor to evacuate. Um, hello? Mr. Seid [our science/biology/whatever teacher... he had a birthmark on his head the size and shape of Gorbechov's... it was impressive. Looked a little like Australia.] should have taught us to never mix the two chemicals at least, no?
Like the time Polly Hollon and I (at least, I think she was in there with me) got busted smoking in the first floor bathroom by Mrs. Magnusson.
[Man she was mean. She hated us all I think. Me especially because she thought I was lazy. I may have been lazy but when we're forced to read The Great fucking Gatsby I have a hard time working up some top notch literary reviews. If only she could see my reading list now. She's probably critiquing my blog from the great beyond, may she rest in peace.]
She storms in to the bathroom (which NO one ever checked... except for the home-ec teacher who must have had some world-class bladder control since she rarely ventured out of the home-ec room) and we had absolutely no time to react because Mrs. M always wore those ugly soft-soled nurse shoes (they were grey and hideous... they looked like cinderblock bricks on her feet). So we're busted and in addition to getting suspended for 3 days (woot! who doesn't love getting suspended? I mean... that's, like, supposed to be punishment? Three whole glorious days of sleeping until noon, watching Jerry Springer and finding new ways to annoy the elderly neighbors next door with ear splitting Poison or Motley Crue? woo hoo!) we are forced to clean the first floor bathroom.
Um. Like. Eww?
So we start to clean. With bleach *and* ammonia. Hah! Aren't we clever? We didn't bother to read the labels (why? It wasn't on Mrs. M's required reading list?) so we weren't aware of the chemical reaction that would basically create a toxic cloud of fumes requiring that entire side of the first floor to evacuate. Um, hello? Mr. Seid [our science/biology/whatever teacher... he had a birthmark on his head the size and shape of Gorbechov's... it was impressive. Looked a little like Australia.] should have taught us to never mix the two chemicals at least, no?
2/10/2009
Dear God. It's my 20th High School Reunion this year.
Need I say more? Okay... maybe just a little (or alot) more.
Like remembering when I got drunk on strawberry schnapps in the 9th grade and puked all over Tammy Paquette's mom's bathroom rug (it was pink... much like my puke - which made me even sicker at the time). Bless Tammy's mom's heart - she never breathed a word of it to my dad.
And then, just to reinforce the nickname "Puker", a year and a half later, drank too much Kessler's and Coke (to this day I cannot stomach the smell of whiskey. I plug my nose before I drink it if forced.) and puked all over the back of... {shit, what's his name's?} some dude's car. Some dork Tammy was hanging out with at the time (I think he drove a Festiva, if that tells you anything). Later that night I spent sitting on the porch of my dad's house, drunkenly convinced that the door was locked and I didn't have a key -- psyche! -- door not locked! Puked all over my room (ah, such fond, fun memories) and passed out before being roughly shaken awake by my dad at 2 am. Lame excuse was I caught the flu from drinking Tammy's coke at lunch.
Did he buy it? Hah! As if...
More to follow as I dredge up more morbidly fascinating yet infinitely embarrasing moment from my formative years... Stay tuned.
Like remembering when I got drunk on strawberry schnapps in the 9th grade and puked all over Tammy Paquette's mom's bathroom rug (it was pink... much like my puke - which made me even sicker at the time). Bless Tammy's mom's heart - she never breathed a word of it to my dad.
And then, just to reinforce the nickname "Puker", a year and a half later, drank too much Kessler's and Coke (to this day I cannot stomach the smell of whiskey. I plug my nose before I drink it if forced.) and puked all over the back of... {shit, what's his name's?} some dude's car. Some dork Tammy was hanging out with at the time (I think he drove a Festiva, if that tells you anything). Later that night I spent sitting on the porch of my dad's house, drunkenly convinced that the door was locked and I didn't have a key -- psyche! -- door not locked! Puked all over my room (ah, such fond, fun memories) and passed out before being roughly shaken awake by my dad at 2 am. Lame excuse was I caught the flu from drinking Tammy's coke at lunch.
Did he buy it? Hah! As if...
More to follow as I dredge up more morbidly fascinating yet infinitely embarrasing moment from my formative years... Stay tuned.
1/29/2009
25 Random Things About Me
1. I have an out of control shoe addiction.
2. I have a general weakness for really good chocolate.
3. I dread doing my taxes.
4. I hate clipping my dogs toenails.
5. I have a proclivity towards staying in bed reading a good book - no matter the weather.
6. When I'm not reading a book I am listening to one on my iPod.
7. I LOVE sour patch kids.
8. I love to shop. I just haven't figured out how to make a six figure income doing it.
9. I laugh really loud. I've tried to change that but I can't. Love me or leave me.
10. I see the world in terms of good user interface and bad user interface. There is no in between.
11. I haven't painted my toenails since the finale of Project Runway Season 5.
12. My family drives me batshit crazy. But I still go home for Christmas.
13. I've always secretly wanted to be a stylist. I'm *so* much better than Rachel Zoe and can do it far cheaper than she.
14. I am in love with and drool over really bitchin' muscle cars from the 60's.
15. I secretly wish that we all had to wear "Hello... my name is" tags for our relationship status. It would make dating ever so much easier. You could just walk down the street and immediately know whether or not that hot guy walking towards you is single and looking.
16. I fully intend to spend my retirement in Spain in a little adobe hut with my dogs and shoes and books.
17. I never really got over my high school crush.
18. I can talk just like Sarah Palin. I can't, however, see Russia from my house.
19. Believe it or not, I have a hard time making new friends.
20. I call things like I see them and have a hard time understanding why everyone else doesn't.
21. I am a beauty product whore. I have so many suitcases and boxes of cosmetics, hair potions and styling aids that could keep a small third world country smelling sweet and lookin' fine.
22. I understand Quantum Physics. And actually like it.
23. I hated the 80's. Especially the clothes. [Shudder... Jesus, the clothes...]
24. I don't have a green thumb. I kill fake plants somehow.
25. I really hate trying to come up with a list of 25 random things about me or anyone else. Why do we care?
1/18/2009
I just don't understand...
So I have this friend who had a one night stand with this guy last, like, May or June... they only slept together once and after that when they saw each other (frequently because of the circles they move in) it was not a comfortable situation.
Long story short, it was more to her than to him and she had a hard time coming to that conclusion. She still hasn't. In fact, as I type this I can hear her on the phone with another friend bitching about and rehashing/reanalyzing and reliving all of the conversations they ever had (which were about 5 total). This is nearly 9 months later. The dude has a serious girlfriend now. And yet she can't let go and constantly harps and bitches and postulates about this guy she fucked ONCE.
I just don't get it. I don't get women like that. She constantly refers to him like he's someone who completely broke her heart (and for the past 8 months I've seen this is true) and *might* have been the love of her life.
Um, newsflash? You fucked once and he started dating someone else. Nothing to see here folks - move along. But why is she still harping about it? I just want to slap her every time she says his name. Seriously.
One night stand = one night stand. Let it go. Go fuck someone else. PUHLEEEEASE! For the love of God shut the fuck up about it already.
1/10/2009
What a tumultuous year...
My life has run the gamut over the past 12 months and just when it seems to have evened out I find myself in a roommate situation with a dear friend who is some sort of weird combination of all of the bad/crazy ways my mom and dad have been. I mean, let me preface this by saying I love her to death -- she's been there for me in ways not even my own blood has been, she's the only person who can crack me up so hard my stomach hurts in seconds and she's just a really genuine, generous and great friend to me.
That said, there are also things about her that are just now surfacing that make me question the wisdom of continuing to be roommates with her and maintain my newfound sanity and peace. For starters, she's an angry (very angry), bitter, caustic and borderline narcissistic person. After what I went through with my friendship with Alisha, I just can't get close to anyone who makes it all about them all of the time. My friend doesn't -- not to that level, anyway -- but there are times when I'm like "Hi! Other people have feelings and a heartbeat too, okay?".
I'd say 90% of the time I find myself ducking her sour mood (not *always* sour - just completely unpredictable and it seems to change frequently. Going from 0 - 60 in seconds.) and walking around on eggshells. She's really demanding. She "asks" you to do some chore around the house but then totally tells you how and when to actually do it. (Remniscent of my father, there.) And then at some point in the future when she's on the warpath about something, tells you how you did it wrong or, more likely, not enough of it.
She's extremely needy and lonely and if I'm at home and just chilling in my room with the door shut, she'll come knock and it and ask if I want to watch TV. Or complain about something that happened to her in the course of her day. Which is fine - and I don't mind that - unless I'm trying to dodge her dark, angry moods because they suck the happiness out of me.
And let's say I do go out and watch TV with her... I have to be careful not to let the dogs cuddle with me because they might make too much noise licking their paws or I might block her line of vision bending over to snuggle Nichi quietly. It's always something. Always.
And frankly, I've been pussyfooting around all of this for so long that I've become some other person when I'm at home. Which explains why I've increasingly tried to find more and more excuses to get out of the house and away from all of that tension and drama. I drag my feet coming home after work -- something I haven't done to this extent since my marriage started to go south. Explain that, Dr. Freud.
That said, there are also things about her that are just now surfacing that make me question the wisdom of continuing to be roommates with her and maintain my newfound sanity and peace. For starters, she's an angry (very angry), bitter, caustic and borderline narcissistic person. After what I went through with my friendship with Alisha, I just can't get close to anyone who makes it all about them all of the time. My friend doesn't -- not to that level, anyway -- but there are times when I'm like "Hi! Other people have feelings and a heartbeat too, okay?".
I'd say 90% of the time I find myself ducking her sour mood (not *always* sour - just completely unpredictable and it seems to change frequently. Going from 0 - 60 in seconds.) and walking around on eggshells. She's really demanding. She "asks" you to do some chore around the house but then totally tells you how and when to actually do it. (Remniscent of my father, there.) And then at some point in the future when she's on the warpath about something, tells you how you did it wrong or, more likely, not enough of it.
She's extremely needy and lonely and if I'm at home and just chilling in my room with the door shut, she'll come knock and it and ask if I want to watch TV. Or complain about something that happened to her in the course of her day. Which is fine - and I don't mind that - unless I'm trying to dodge her dark, angry moods because they suck the happiness out of me.
And let's say I do go out and watch TV with her... I have to be careful not to let the dogs cuddle with me because they might make too much noise licking their paws or I might block her line of vision bending over to snuggle Nichi quietly. It's always something. Always.
And frankly, I've been pussyfooting around all of this for so long that I've become some other person when I'm at home. Which explains why I've increasingly tried to find more and more excuses to get out of the house and away from all of that tension and drama. I drag my feet coming home after work -- something I haven't done to this extent since my marriage started to go south. Explain that, Dr. Freud.
3/19/2008
Irony at it's best.
My dad has
The price of gas.
Irony is, indeed, alive and well in Upper Michigan.
- a 2006 Chevy "Intimidator" Silverado SS pickup truck
- a 1998 Chevy Silverado Z-71 pickup truck
- a 2001 Chevrolet Camaro Z28 (and yes, it's bitchin)
- TWO Harley-Davidson motorcycles
- a Honda motorcycle
- a 2006 Yamaha Raptor 350 4-wheeler
The price of gas.
Irony is, indeed, alive and well in Upper Michigan.
10/12/2007
Ok, two words? Effing cool.
Swiss to protect voting data with 'unbreakable' quantum encryption
A new "unbreakable" encryption method will be keep votes safe for citizens in the Swiss canton (state) of Geneva in the country's upcoming national elections, officials said Thursday. The city-state will use quantum technology to encrypt election results as they are sent to the capital on Oct. 21, said Nicolas Gisin of the University of Geneva.
A computer in Geneva, provided by the company id Quantique, will fire photons, or particles of light, down a fiber-optic link to a receiver 62 miles away.
How effing cool is that? I mean... photons included with your voting experience?
My only question? How is it that Switzerland... a politically neutral country was the first to implement such advanced technology, hmmmm?
A new "unbreakable" encryption method will be keep votes safe for citizens in the Swiss canton (state) of Geneva in the country's upcoming national elections, officials said Thursday. The city-state will use quantum technology to encrypt election results as they are sent to the capital on Oct. 21, said Nicolas Gisin of the University of Geneva.
A computer in Geneva, provided by the company id Quantique, will fire photons, or particles of light, down a fiber-optic link to a receiver 62 miles away.
How effing cool is that? I mean... photons included with your voting experience?
My only question? How is it that Switzerland... a politically neutral country was the first to implement such advanced technology, hmmmm?
9/01/2007
8/07/2007
Two posts in a single day - aren't YOU lucky?!
Pete Goldlust's intricate carved crayons are too cool not to share.
Perhaps one has a little too much time on their hands maybe?
Perhaps one has a little too much time on their hands maybe?
This is why I love quantum physics...
Lately, scientists have been working on experiments involving photons and slits and such suggest the mind-bending concept that the future can leak into the present. Physicist Jeff Tollaksen of George Mason University says the weak measurements may show that “something that happens now is affected by something that happens in the future. It suggests that the universe has a destiny — a destiny that is out there and coming back to us from the future.”
Well, that last part is a stretch (quantum destiny? Not so much...) but certainly gives one something to chew on for a while.
Well, that last part is a stretch (quantum destiny? Not so much...) but certainly gives one something to chew on for a while.
7/06/2007
6/28/2007
Like, OMG! Stop the presses! Spice Girls are back in action!
The long-awaited reunion tour announcement has nation breathing sigh of relief and 30-something soccer moms jumping for joy.
(Pardon me while I go throw up.)
(Thanks, PopSugar.)
(Pardon me while I go throw up.)
(Thanks, PopSugar.)
3/15/2007
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