Friday, January 30, 2004

When something really really fucked up happens it's hard not to feel like a target of some kind. Some people may feel they've somehow deflected disaster from themselves onto a loved one or people close to them. For what it's worth, I say that bullshit. I don't know if I believe in tikhun (sp?). I believe in personal karma, sure. I don't know too much about Kabbalah (sp?) or ancient philosophies or actually anything really. I do know that it's fucked up that a beautiful bright happy boy gets crushed in the back of his grandparent's car. I know that it's fucked up that my friend gets a call in the middle of the night from his brother-in-law that his nephew is dead, his dad is barely alive, his mother and sister wish they were dead, and he needs to drop his entire life and career this instant and come home. I know that will be fucked up forever. I also know that it's fucked up to be self-centered and want to chase my friend to the airport and tell him not to go, that Mr. Steve won't keep the house clean or feed Enoch and that we'll all be a bit lost without his cool head. It's fucked up that I didn't even get to say goodbye really. It's all fucked up.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:18 PM
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Wednesday, January 28, 2004

So I know I said I was going to give Jimmy a baby, but not anytime soon. On Sunday he and three of the crewboyz got bounced out of Home Depot. Maybe we should call them Home Despot now. We weren't even doing anything, he tells me. All of a sudden I hear my mother's voice coming out of my mouth. Oh you were just in there minding your own business when all of a sudden out of the blue they tossed you all out there for no reason? No. They were trying to see who could come the closest to cutting himself on the tile cutting machine without drawing blood. I'm so sure this was Mr. Steve's idea. Shug and Rad can never walk away from a challenge, but my husband is so fucking competitive I swear the only reason he taught me to ski was so he could win against me.

So now the little scrap of cement in my tiny backyard still doesn't have tile on it. That's okay. It rained anyway. He made it up to me. Everything's cool now. Men. Would you ever see Carey and Me and Sandee having a competition of who could walk the most parking stops in three inch heels without falling off? No. Not in years, anyway. I won. Even after three beers. Haha.



another mad ramble of The Shadow * 2:02 PM
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My house is so clean. It won't last too long, but I'm happy. Another niece is coming to town tonight. She'll be staying until Tuesday. I hope we have a lot of fun, because I need some. I have to go tonight to see a play my friend wrote and that some other friends are in. It's probably totally porn, but we'll see. I'm so tired and I didn't go to the gym all week. I will go, but I just haven't yet. I know this is a boring post. I'll call Rho and tell her to post some of her adventures so you won't get too bored.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 11:46 AM
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Tuesday, January 27, 2004

Last night I came home and did my last load of laundry. I went through my paint chips again and I finally decided on the perfect color of lavender to paint my room. I'm going to try that readystrip organic wood stripper stuff. I also decided finally to get the whitewashed bookcases I saw at Cost Plus. This morning when I was getting ready in the bathroom, I decided that I want to add some more cobalt blue in there. I think I'll try that fusion plastic spray paint in obnoxious cobalt blue on the hideous vinyl floors in the bathroom. At least that will hold me over until I can afford to tile the kitchen and bathroom floors. As for the kitchen, all I need to do is paint the walls white, paint the floor black, and strip the cabinets and wax them. Did I say that was ALL I needed to do? In my room I just need to strip and primer the furniture, paint the walls, hang the beads where the door used to be, and change the bed frame. I also would like to get a different light fixture, like maybe an old chandelier to go with the canopy. I also saw the cutest old mantle that's all shabby chic and I had an idea that I could put it against the wall even though there's no fireplace. Who cares, if it's cute right? Plus, I want to get another funky old vanity like I used to have with the big round mirror for the other wall. I don't know, what do you think?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 1:40 PM
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Monday, January 26, 2004

Do I sound like an ungrateful gritch? I feel like one. I need to find a new car. I hate car shopping. I might as well sit down with the car guys and say okay, fuck me up the ass. Let's go, I got things to do. I don't know why it has to be this way. Sometimes I wish I lived in an Eastern Block country and there were no choices in cars, just colors. I'd pick silver. Or white. I'd like to get black, but everybody over there has a black car. So Devo. Freedom from choice is what I want. There aren't even anymore Eastern Block countries. Now everyone is wanting American cars over there. How retarded. Did you know a 1980 Trans Am with the Eagle on the hood can cost as much as $50,000.00 in Prague? I know. Another one of life's trippy little twists.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 1:41 PM
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Saturday, January 24, 2004

I'm writing this from home. It's very quiet and peaceful, which is exactly what I needed. I had a nice time last night. That's all I'm saying about that for now. This morning started at 0530. I got up early to take my bed frame apart and get it ready to take up to my friend who is also babysitting my bar. My friend Sandee, the wonderful, came at 0700 to help me pick up the bar. We couldn't take the bed frame because I never got it apart because I spent over an hour looking for the gadget to take it apart with. Damn Ikea. I just saw it in the tool drawer a few weeks ago. So we got the bar and we went up to L.A. and we woke up the guys and we made them carry it in. Then we went to breakfast. Then I came all the way home, did a little shoe shopping, then went back to L.A. for a freezing cold softball game that was so ridiculous it's not worth mentioning really. Then I came all the way home again. Now I'm doing laundry and being really mellow. On Wednesday I have to go back up to L.A. to see my friend's play. I'm already exhausted. Do I sound old? I feel tired and cranky, but I don't know if it's like a toddler or like an old lady. I should sleep. That's what would make me feel so much better. My neighbors won't mind that my laundry is only half done, will they?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 10:08 PM
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Friday, January 23, 2004

My stars are definitely in my house of clutziness and frustration. Or maybe I'm just pms. It's been a nightmare trying to get my bar. The shop owner went on vacation to Costa Rica and the slobs left to watch the shop are not at all customer service oriented. Since last night and this morning I've been running around like a headless chicken and I've fallen down and spilled on myself three times. A brujita told me that means I might get pregnant. I hardly think so. I finally got the shop owner on the phone today and she said she'd be more than happy to open the shop up at 7 am for me to get my stuff the hell off her floor. I have someone to move the bar. I have all the barware packed up in bubble wrap. Everything's ready to go. I feel like such a stresscat. Ben is always saying calm down, slow down. I don't know why I get so panicked. I was so afraid that she wouldn't come back and that no one would open the shop and that I would never get the bar and the boxes of barware would stay on my living room floor forever.

I need to meditate more. I need to chill and relax. This Sunday don't come by my house. It's super cleaning Sunday. Everything is getting washed, including the floors, and the screens, and the fridge. I'll smudge everything with sage and light some dragon's blood and play some good music. Don't come by. I'll be cleaning. You go shopping during the day and bar hopping at night. I'll stay home and make everything smooth and calm again. Don't call me and interrupt my candle light bubble bath.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 12:15 PM
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Thursday, January 22, 2004

Life in the Jade Cafe is very hard right now. Very, very frustrating. All of a sudden my cell phone service doesn't get a signal. I got about $100 less than I expected on my paycheck. This entire weekend will be devoted to housecleaning and laundry. Oh joy. I'm just so frustrated. I've spent the last two hours trying to set up my niece's pc. I'm used to a mac, but this one is faster so for now we'll use it. Does anyone know how to convert mac files to pc. I apologize for being such a gritch. I'm just so frustrated. I guess the stars are aligned in my house of frustration.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 10:48 PM
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Wednesday, January 21, 2004

I've been working on everyone's blogs since last night. I hope I've cleaned them up and made them look better. I went into edits and tried to fix Mr Steve's spelling and I ended up deleting his post. I'm so sorry. I don't know how to fix it. I'll figure it out. Please bear with me, I stil have no clue what I'm doing as evidenced.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 1:17 PM
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Monday, January 19, 2004

Last night I went to the grocery store and was surrounded by a bunch of CSULB sorority girls who had assaulted the store en masse to get "stuff" for the "guys". I believe this meant they were gathering some goodies for their frat brothers. I once had a roommate who was in a sorority and it frightened me how these girls would come to the house and be so crazed. And they thought I was the weird one. They would show up three or five or more strong and take over the house. They would bring these huge boxes of scrapbooking crap so they could make everything look "cute". Once I was afraid they would bludgeon me with a wooden platform sandal because I didn't want to give them my spare key so they could sneak into the house while we were out and play a joke on roomie. They would give me bitchy looks and say snide things like "Is that what you wear out?" I would just smile nicely and sprinkle pepper under their chairs. I did a meditation for roomie to move out and she got a nasty boyfriend who treated her really badly and she moved in with him. I saw her once at the hospital arguing with him and she was holding a baby so I guess we know how that ended up.

Back to the grocery store last night. These "sisters" were running around being retarded and annoying and they were making a mess at the candy area and bothering people, but what I thought was really funny was these two girls who seemed like the leaders. One was a really pretty cheerleader type and the other one was the preppy brainster. They were discussing how "over" Leonardo DiCaprio was and were telling each other how back in high school they had crushes on him, but that now he's a nobody. I had to smile. When I saw Gilbert Grape, I thought Leo actually was developmentally delayed. When everyone was having spontaneous orgasms about Titanic, which I thought was a huge disappointment, I couldn't get over how unappealing Leonardo was. Maybe it's his skinny arms. If he'd done more of an upper body workout he could've found his own door to float on and he and Rose could've hocked the rock or sold it back to old what's his face and been a happy ending instead of the horse-manure tanker Titanic was for me. Except for the clothes. Loved the clothes in that movie and that one scene where the girl is drowning in the ballroom and it looks like she's floating in air. I thought that was beautiful.

So the sorority girls were saying that for both of them there will never be another crush like Leo. They would never feel the intensity or the passion for anyone like they felt for Leo. I almost laughed in their faces. One looked like she was a certified virgin and the other looked like she'd fucked so many people her equipment was permanently desensitized. Leo DiCaprio? I had to leave before I said anything. I know how violent and unreasonable a mob of sorority girls can be. I may have barely escaped with my life.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 2:01 PM
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Sunday, January 18, 2004

I've been working overtime today to pay my bills. I can't wait for payday. Isn't that so sad? I bought Krispy Kreme doughnuts for everyone this morning and no one ate them. I'm exhausted today. I have to clean my dirty house and deal with the floors. Then I can do my meditation and take a nap. I've been reading a really fascinating book about the ancient sites. I like it because it's kind of an archeology for dummies. I wanted to read I Was A Teenaged Dominatrix, but someone stole it from my car. I should've known leaving a book like that in plain sight would be too tempting in Long Beach. I don't really have anything too interesting to say. I'm sorry. I guess I just logged on because I'm bored.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:31 PM
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Friday, January 16, 2004

My friend is on his way to Sundance. How exciting. He's the wunderkind of digital film. My other friend is also going because they're partners in crime. It sounds like a horrible crush to me. Just bring me back a t-shirt or a keychain or a shotglass. They're both terrific storytellers so I'm sure I'll hear the best and worst of it when they get home. I'm happy for them both because it's such an opportunity and they're deserving, but I would probably break out in hives if I had to go.

He did Oedipus Rex with fruits and vegetables. Well not real ones, they're silicone puppets. He cast his film at the Farmer's Market. I wanted Jocasta to be a chili pepper, but he wouldn't listen to me. It was part of his artistic vision for her to be played by a tomato. I guess that's why I'm working in a hospital and Martin Scorsese is taking him to lunch. My other friend was invited to Vegas for the weekend and so I agreed to work overtime. That's twice this week I've been ditched by my friends, but I understand. Who wants to go for coffee after they've been invited out for a drink with a hunky medic? Why would anyone pass up a Vegas weekend to go shoe shopping? Maybe if I work enough overtime and diet like a crack whore I can have that Balenciaga I saw at Vintage Village. That would make me so happy momentarily.

I recently discovered that you could backpost a post. I didn't know that. My friend calls my personal diary the Chaos Chronicles. Should I put one or two of the posts on here? I don't know. There's something a little scary for me about that. We'll see. I won't torture anyone if they protest. But if you don't say anything, then you deserve what you tolerate.



another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:16 PM
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Thursday, January 15, 2004

I used to go to bible study to repent for my punk sins. It was hard to live for Jesus and go to punk shows too. This one youth study teacher used to talk and talk about killing your pig. He would talk about living in the flesh and how you couldn't serve two masters. They would rant about rock and roll and Charlie Manson and Dio and the evil punk rock that was encouraging vulnerable kids to hurt themselves and others. Kill your pig. Lay your pig at the foot of the cross and live for Jesus because he died for you. I never understood what that meant. Jesus was God and the son of God and came down as a Godman and lived a perfect life and then took all my sins on himself and then died and came back to life and went up to heaven so that I was forgiven and saved but only if I lived a perfect life like his. Two problems with this, he was supposedly born perfect and never committed any sins in his lifetime, and the other problem is I can't relate to this guy. He never kissed anyone? He never rocked out? He never argued with his parents? How is it okay that Jesus did his own thing, died for it even, never had a real job, just traveled around with his friends, but his life was perfect and mine's all bad? I couldn't get in tune with the Jesus they were telling me about. His friendships and relationships seemed weird to me. He died for me but he doesn't like me? I'm evil, but he wants to save me? God created me for his own delight, but he's ready to send me to hell forever because I'm not up to snuff? As the creator I would think he could fix that, couldn't he? Anyway, then I had a lucid moment and walked away.

So I heard through the grapevine that Mr. kill your pig had been having an affair with his friend's teenaged daughter and the way it was discovered is that she got herpes. How lovely. I laughed when I heard about it. I'm sorry for her, but everyone should have known he was doing something off the way he was always going on about rock and roll and how all the kids needed to scratch up their rock CD's and vinyl and not sell them back because that would be profiting from evil. Kill your own fucking pig.


another mad ramble of The Shadow * 2:55 PM
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Wednesday, January 14, 2004

The other night I had the craziest dream and Henry Rollins was in it. I dreamed I was at a very swank hotel with my friend Sandee and her three little girls. For some reason everyone was crowding around Sandee and there was a lot of commotion. I got on the elevator, oh and I was wearing this really great dress I saw at Vintage Village but couldn't buy because they knew it was a Balenciaga. I got on the elevator and there was a guy reading a newspaper so I couldn't see his face. He ruffled the paper and sighed in an irritated way and then pushed the floor button really hard. I felt stupid and looked down at my shoes, which were my new Stuart Weisman's, and there was Kamimilo, Sandee's youngest girl. She's two and half. She just looked up at me with her big eyes. I tried to call Sandee and tell her I had the baby but I couldn't get any service. Then Kamimilo made herself really tiny like a Barbie doll and started climbing up the man's pantsleg. She crawled into his pocket like a marsupial baby and I was afraid the man would squish her. I asked him if it was okay she was there and he shot me this glare and said yes really curtly. It was Henry Rollins and he was giving me the eyebrow look. Then the elevator came to a stop and the door opened. Henry folded up his paper and got out. He took Kamimilo out of his pocket and set her very gently on the floor. We both watched her grow back to normal size and then he said "Take care" to Kamimilo and went off down the hallway. What does it mean?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 2:35 PM
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Did I ever tell you I married an All American Bad Ass? Well, I did. In Vegas. With no one I knew in attendance. And the recording of the wedding march messed up and somehow started playing really fast and I think backwards. Our so-called honeymoon was spent at the Chateau Marmont for a weekend of sexual debauchery that has become legendary in elite circles. These stupid little bitches who moan and cry over their dress and the flowers and the guest list and the caterer and the cake, dear God, the cake! can all go fuck themselves and the limo driver too. It's not the wedding or honeymoon that's important. It's the day to day living called marriage. I never really wanted a wedding. I'm not a performance artist. I wanted to wake up to the same guy almost every day. I wanted someone so close to me he could tell if my heart skipped a beat. I wanted someone to laugh with me at a joke only we understood. I wanted someone who would make me do stuff I was afraid to and not make a big fucking deal out of it. I wanted someone who wouldn't make a face and say you cut your hair in a whine voice like it was his hair. I wanted someone who trusted me with his heart, soul, credit cards, and car keys.

Yesterday my husband went to help his friends straighten out a problem. He's always concerned I'm talking about his penis and performance with unknown others so let me just graphically explain in detail how completely more than satisfied I am with both. His tongue and fingers, too. Now that's out of the way let me tell you what happened yesterday. One of our friends got his car towed and when he and another friend went to pick it up they were getting the rip off runaraound from the tow yard. Charges for this, charges for that, mystery charge, standard bullshit charge, and a breathing on my property fee. My friend lost his cool, which he does every once in a while because he's an Aries, and all hell broke loose. Pretty soon everyone was at the tow yard in a testosterone screaming match because the tow guys were saying the police were interested in the vehicle and it couldn't be released. Enter my husband, stage left. His dad is on the force with practically the rest of his family. My darling refused to join because he doesn't feel he needs a badge to support his cock and balls. The screaming match stopped. My husband's one of those quiet guys who just stare. He told the tow guys in his firm and serious voice how they were going to go get my friend's car, get the paperwork together, and knock off the bullshit. The tow guy started his crap again, but my husband just walked away, got on the phone and within 15 minutes there were cops all over the tow yard. They were checking for stolen vehicles, wants and warrants on all the employees, including the little dispatch girl, and my husband just stood there with that why'd you make it go to this level look on his face. My friend got his car back with a minimum of fees, and then everyone went out for tacos and beer. It was Tuesday after all.

I'm so glad I'm not married to a cop, but is it wrong to laugh my ass off at that kind of bravado? Those tow freaks deserved it. They're one step up from carnival workers and repo men. I love my husband. Not because he kicks ass, but because he's not impressed by his ass-kicking skills. I love his big arms and shoulders and how safe they make me feel. I love that no one starts shit with me when I'm with him. I love it that he looks like he could crush a person, but that he reads constantly. I love that he knows how to fix anything in our house or car and knows who Pergolesi is. I love him and when we're ready I'm going to make a little him. In about five years. Don't tell him though, because I have to let him get used to the idea.



another mad ramble of The Shadow * 12:47 PM
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Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Today is not a good lupus day. I've been exhausted the last two days and my house is such a mess I think my laundry may be able to do itself soon. I called Dr Christensen and he just said, "You have lupus. Get used to it. Call me back if your headache doesn't go away." Thanks a pantsful, Doc. Actually I really like Dr Christensen because he's always honest with me. I like doctors who just give it straight. My co-worker is on eternal hold on speakerphone and Blue Cross Minnesota is actually playing a really cool station. We've heard Billie Holliday, Betty Carter, my friend Patsy Cline and some other stuff that's new to me but sounds pretty old and cool. A girl I used to work with had to take a music class for her BA and she took the history of Rock and Roll. It was taught by this absolute moron. Every class Rhonda would ask about some obscure band or scene or movement and the instructor would just draw a blank and say that it sounded really interesting and Rhonda should look into it. Well, that instructor just came through here because she was trying to have a baby at 52 years old and yes, I know some docs who'll knock up anyone, but isn't that just kind of sick? I mean if she did have a baby she'd be 67 by the time the kid could drive. She'd be 77 by the time the kid got out of college. I know I'm being judgmental, but that's just wrong. It's unfair to the child. It won't happen anyway. She had a heart attack while doing the IVF procedure so that's the end of that. Now the station is playing a really cool old orchestra and torch singer version of Blue Moon, my all-time favorite. I should burn a CD of all the versions of Blue Moon and Gloomy Sunday. That would make me happy. The guy who said he would babysit my bar until my niece moves out hasn't called me back. I'm scared he's changed his mind and my bar won't have a home. I'm scared it'll end up in the Crew's clubhouse with ho vomit on it and that's not good. I'm rambling. I should go and get some work done.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 12:38 PM
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Sunday, January 11, 2004

Today I realized I'm happy. I just wanted to write it down and make sure the moment was preserved for posterity. I know the gods conspire against me, and I do my part to thwart them. They sit up there on Mt Olympus, or wherever the chic place is for gods these days, and they plot and plan against me. I'm sure some of them were hanging out in Vegas earlier this year discussing American Idol and the future of free trade when one of them, probably Bacchus, the god of fun, said Holy Shit, or something similar. Carey almost seems to have her life together. Who wasn't paying attention? Crap, what'll we do? Then Athena, the goddess of war, said Let's have her niece move in with her. That'll fuck her up but good. And they all agreed that I wouldn't know that the hell to do.

It didn't completely go according to plan. I've realized that I can leave my shit job, and that it's absolutely the right thing to do. What's the worst thing to happen? I can always get another shit job at another hospital. The stars must be aligned in my house of creativity and bullshit because all day today I was coming up with brilliant ideas. Perhaps they're all fool's gold, but we'll have to see. I'm getting my new media cabinet thing I had made delivered any minute. Then in two weeks I'll be able to pick up my bar and all my barware will have a home finally. I hate living out of boxes.

I just wanted to make sure I blogged on this busy busy weekend that I'm happy. Not quite like in a Doris Day movie, but in a real way. Not everything is perfect and there's quite a lot to be unhappy about, but I'm happy and I can connect to it now instead of years later when I cry to my friends on my birthday Oh, if only I knew at the time how happy I was I could have really enjoyed it.

I refuse to be afraid this means someone close to me will die suddenly or that I'll have a huge unexpected bill go past due and into collections before I know it or can do anything about it. I'm happy. I recognize it. I'm enjoying it. I hope it lasts.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 6:34 PM
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Friday, January 09, 2004

I'm on my way to get a facial and my hair done. My sister does it. She and her husband have a really hip place where he hangs his artwork and photography and she's the queen of style. I always slink in like the lowlife, pathetic little sister I am. Everyone always gives me those sad but hopeful looks that say poor thing, still not married, still fat, still working that same lame job. I go into the skincare room and life fades away. I strip down to my panties and wrap the towel around me. The towel is extra big to fit all sizes so it makes me feel really small. I lay on the table and the aesthetician comes in and dims the lights, puts some music and aromatherapy on, and tells me to relax. Relax. RELAX. It's a mantra. She waxes my brows and we bitch about men. Then she cleans my pores and compliments me on how small they are as if it was my effort and not genetics. She applies this pumpkin acid mixture that basically dissolves the top layers of my face I guess. It burns. Then she washes it away and applies this soothing cucumber stuff that makes my skin look all fresh like morning dew. I always stress out about what to wear to the salon. I try to look as hip as I can without looking like I'm trying. It's very hard. The only time my sister approved of what I was wearing was when I was 19 and had an authentic British school bag I was using as a purse. She took it from me and said it didn't go with anything I had. She still has it with her lunchbox collection. She also took all the old Amazing Stories and Fantastic Tales magazines my dad had in the garage. In any case, I'll tell her about the parties I went to and the boys I kissed. I'll have to tell her the minor celebrity gossip I have about Mariah Carey, Jesse James, and what's his face the drummer from Pennywise. It's all I've got. She'll top me because she's more in the know than a Hollywood private investigator. Whenever I'm driving home from a visit to the salon, I fantasize that I have a really eccentric life. That I'm a writer who travels the world and sends home dispatches of my lunch with John Malkovich, or how I ran into Johnny Depp at a flea market in Paris. I'd send my editor stories from the trenches of the spoken word venues I visited all over the world. I could have all kinds of new beauty procedures in Brazil and write about them. I'd come home and give her the clothes I picked up at fashion week here and there and show her all the objects of flirtation I received from intelligent, cultured men. But she still wouldn't be impressed at all. So I might as well do what I want to make myself happy and forget the rest. Tonight I'm going to the movies with my friend Sandee. We're finally going to see Big Fish. I'll be more in a mood to talk tomorrow.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 9:47 AM
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Thursday, January 08, 2004

Last night I wrote in a notebook all the things I want to do with my life. It wasn't very much. My goals are too ambiguous. I'd like to be Queen of the World, but only if I could have fake me's to do all the things I wouldn't want to. I wrote down all my financial stuff. It's pretty sad. There's a girl here who's husband was an investment banker. She was the happiest, most well-dressed soccer mom on the block. Then he had a massive coronary at only 41. Now she won't let him work. He stays at home and watches the kids and she's in nursing school. He can't keep his hands out of the pot. He's constantly finding properties to buy and investments to launch. It's the nature of the beast. She just wants him to take it easy so she and the girls won't lose him. He can't sit still. I wish I had the magic money fingers like that.

I also went to the gym. I told them I had a bazillion pounds to lose and she told me 30, max. I said I wanted to get rid of all the cellulite on the back of my legs and she said it was natural. Eng knows a way to get rid of it, but it involves going into the hyperbaric chamber. I don't know how to get my insurance to pay for it. Maybe I could cut the back of both legs somehow and keep re-opening the wound so I can go into the WCC. Is that too sick? I don't know. I tried to put in a claim with the work comp people for some Botox because they've totally ruined my eyes with these computers and all they want to do is pay for new glasses. They need to pay for the furrow in my brow too! They totally rejected my claim. Ben said that if I get desperate enough he'll give me some topramil, which is a seizure medicine that has the curious low dosage side effect of completely erasing your appetite. They took my friend Ephedra off the market. Why is it any time I find something that works for me they stop selling it? I lost so much weight on PhenFen, one lady started rumors that I had bulimia. I was so happy, in a really sick and twisted way. I felt that I'd achieved real weight loss.

Am I boring you? I know it's bad manners to talk about weight and beauty issues. It's just that I respect Henry and his body so much. I've always envied that kind of discipline. I'll go back to the gym lady. I'll do the workout. I"m not going to shout out to my sisters that I love myself, though. I'm not going to give myself a round of applause for finishing a workout. I'll just go in there looking like the hag that rolled out of bed, do the workout, and split. I'm not bonding over sweat. I would, but under very different circumstances.



another mad ramble of The Shadow * 1:45 PM
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Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Last night my husband forgot to take out the trash, feed the dog, turn the porch light off, or put his dirty dishes in the sink. But I forgot all about it because just like my friend Nina says, he put the sugar in my bowl, baby. That's right, I saw God and she said to tell you all how much she loves you. I just wanted log on here and say that I hope every woman big and small has a man to kiss her over all (her girlie parts). I also want to say to anyone reading this that if you're with someone who doesn't want to lick your pussy because it smells or he doesn't like hair pie or he isn't familiar with the geography or any of those other really ignorant reasons, then you should dump his ass like toxic waste in Nevada. I love my husband. I love having sex with my husband. I keep telling Carey that being married is not a life sentence but she seems to think it's the end of the world. One day she will meet someone who can talk about philosophy and take her to shows and watch Farscape with her and take care of her without making her feel like a five year old. This guy will also be able to give her those toe curling, mouth drying, wavelike orgasmic episodes that make almost anything okay. Then she can jump off the sad train and stop playing the crying game. That's my new year wish for her. That she'll stop looking for the man and stand still for a minute so he can zero in on her pulse and find her. Then we can start double dating again. As long as he's compatible with my ORA (orgasmic response activator).



another mad ramble of The Shadow * 2:37 PM
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Tuesday, January 06, 2004

Everyone keeps blogging on my sign on. It makes me look like an idiot. I don't need any help looking stupid. My friend was more upset than I was. She wants to be mysterious, even though everyone knows who she is. She wants to be "balls honest" about everything but doesn't think she can unless she uses a blogname. So fine. Here's the big secret: Miss Ennui is the reincarnation of Wendy O Williams. Okay, I know Wendy only died a few years ago, but what I mean is that Miss Ennui is channeling the essence of Wendy O Williams and is trying to be really tough and jaded and aggressive and what all like her hero. She also likes Shirley Manson and Kim Gordon but guess who not? That's right. Courney, no we're not spelling it wrong. It's a play on words, 'cuz Courtney is so corny, get it? Haha. Everyone get off my big ass about the blogs. I know it's big enough for everyone to jump on and ride but that doesn't mean you have to.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 6:56 PM
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Last night I did my cards and they said that I shouldn't leave my job. I did them again and again and they kept saying the same thing. I hate this job. I have to leave. It's killing what's left of my soul. No, I guess it's not. Maybe I am being overly melodramatic. I'm changing jobs, though. No matter what the cards say. They also said I was going to have lots of sex this year. I forgot to ask if it was going to be with anyone else other than myself. Go ahead and make a face. I told you Henry Rollins is my secret boyfriend. What did you all think?

I am leaving this job. I will get a better one. I will make more money. I will meet better people. Not that people here are bad, but you can never stop wanting. If it's true I create my own destiny and that in the end the life you live is equal to the love you give, then why am I still struggling so much? I'm bored with the struggle. I'd like the challenge of being rich beyond imagination. No. I wouldn't want to be that rich. It comes with it's own complications. I'd like to not have to struggle so much anymore. It's tedious.

I'll do the cards again tonight. Anyone have questions you'd like me to ask? Too bad. You have to ask them yourself if you want a special relationship with the Universe.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 12:41 PM
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Monday, January 05, 2004

I'm on the phone with my friend. He's telling me that I should just go to the movies alone. We were supposed to see Big Fish, but he ended up going with his girlfriend. Whatever. They've built up The Pike where I live. It used to be the showplace of fun about 100 years ago. Then the aerospace industry came to town and everyone ran to the suburbs and downtown became slumtown. Now with the urban renewal and all the work the artists have done, it's beginning to look a little safer. I wouldn't feel too uncomfortable walking to my car after dark. I live off 1st street in the East Village and I can walk to the new theater. I could walk to the Pine Square theater, too. But then, why would I want to? I can walk to the Blue Cafe, but then I couldn't walk over there in the shoes that I would wear to the cafe so that's why I drive. I could walk all over and I think that's what old Bev, our mayor, is planning. I asked her once about the parking and she told me there was plenty of parking in the city. I'm sure it averages out, and probably where Bev lives it's not a problem, but in the places where people are desperate, it's pretty hopeless. Once I ran in and put my groceries down and forgot to put my ice cream in the freezer. By the time I'd found parking and walked back to the house it was like over an hour later and most of my ice cream had made a lovely mess on the floor. It was disheartening. There was one asshole who auctioned off his garage space about a year ago when I was first moving down there. I thought all the people were retarded how they were pushing each other and this one woman offered to make the guy with parking dinner if he took her bid. That place went for $100.00 a month in advance with no storage or insurance. I'll bet if someone ran for mayor on a 'safe convenient parking for everyone' campaign, they'd win hands down in this city. Even if they were a former Serbian war criminal who also ran a prostitution and drug ring on the side.

Okay, I'm done bitching about the parking. They're giving away free office furniture today. Does anyone need a filing cabinet? I'm taking home a chair. I can't stop thinking about this one guy I met on New Year's Eve. It's fun to have someone to think about. I wonder if he's thinking of me? Probably not. I'll have to read my Mama Gena books again so I can hone my skills.


another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:39 PM
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Saturday, January 03, 2004

I downloaded some blog codes and I've been trying to fix these all day. I guess I'm the blogmistress of the dark or something similar and I don't know what I'm doing. If the text is still overrun, or the background stops halfway down the page, I'm sorry. I don't know how to fix it. Maybe someday soon all the browsers of the world will unite and there will be blog freedom for everyone. Or perhaps the guy from the help desk will respond to my email. Or maybe I'll save enough blue chip stamps to get the blog guide. Would you like me to put a construction sign up? Should I have one of those retarded notices that says Please be patient, God isn't finished with me yet? No, I'd better not. Wouldn't want to contribute to the low harmonic frequency emanating from the blogfans. Is it emanate or eminate, or should it be emulate? Okay, I'll go now.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 4:58 PM
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Friday, January 02, 2004

I told you about those credit cards I was offered? Well, because Ben is such a nag, I called Chase Manhatten bank and they said they have no affiliation to the group who called me. I didn't dare ask them if they'd offer me credit because I didn't want to run the risk of their entire computer system exploding when they tried to access my file. I waited and waited for them to call me again and this morning they finally did. I said I had some questions for him when the guy was asking me if I'd thought over the offer. I asked him what it was like to work in a boiler room and how desperate would he have to be to do it. He hung up. Then the jerk called me back right before I went to lunch and said "I just want you to know that I'm putting more money in my wallet every day than you'll ever see in a month of your shitty job, bitch". I was about to tell him that if you throw a rock into a pack of dogs, you'll know which one you hit because he'll howl, but he hung up again. What a manly man.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:23 PM
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Thursday, January 01, 2004

Happy New Year everyone. I had a super time last night. I went to a fun party out in Culver City, I'm pretty sure. It was really hard to find parking and you know what they say about that. Oh, you don't? Well the saying goes that you can only get lucky with parking or sex. Maybe that's one reason all those suburbanites who have plentiful parking have notoriously sucky sex lives and oftentimes resort to swinging and I totally digress. Okay. So I met up with my friends at this party and one of us was in a funk and thought she was bloated but I told her that bulge was just one of her ribs sticking out. She didn't want to hear about how great her outfit was. She only stayed to get midnight kisses and split. Then my other friend, La Bella B, who is always kind of the life of a party, sparkled even brighter. I got the info on her mystery man and we all told her no. He does not receive a stamp of approval from her galpals. This guy has some nerve. He's not even divorced yet, has a baby on the way, won't tell anyone where he's living, and works some mystery, ie boring to him, job. And then on top of it all he went home with some other girl. Poor girl. Anyway, don't worry about my friend. She traded many New Year's Eve kisses with the cutest boy at the party. She also had to drive home with him because I took a headache pill earlier and while it probably helped to make me feel good during the party, I pooped at around 0300 and fell asleep in someone's bed. It was really creepy. I woke up around 1000 and left them a note. Ick. It felt so like college, creeping out in your Saturday night clothes on Sunday morning. I left the host a nice note because he's a swell guy. He's agreed to babysit my new bar and barstools until I can fit them in my house. They're set to go exactly where the niece is, so. Overall, I would say that I started this year off right. When the year turned, I was with people I really liked, in a fun place and I got lots of hugs and traded lots of kisses. Highlights of the evening: Arguing with the guy who was one of the project managers for Glitter about the value of Henry Rollins and Rick Rubin in today's music society. He's a catalog director or something like that for BMG/EMI/SONY et al. But you know what? I'd date him. He's a cool guy. I danced a lot. I talked to a lot of interesting people, including an acquaintance who is one of the directors of original programming for the SciFi channel. I asked her if Battlestar Galactica was coming back as a series and she just winked and put her finger to her lips. So I guess I probably shouldn't have blogged that. Nah, no one heard it from me. I know I'm rambling and I don't have anything scintillating to say, but if I'm boring you change the channel. I'm hoping this year will bring me success. Success in my fitness, finance, career, and relationship goals. It's so hard to become something elusive. When I was little and they asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up all I ever could ever think of was happy. I just wanted to be happy. I guess it's a miracle I'm only a femmie girl instead of a raving drug, sex, or shopping addict.

Happy 2004 Everyone. May this be the year the powers that be come to their senses and exonerate the West Memphis Three.



another mad ramble of The Shadow * 5:20 PM
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