And I Will Always Love You.

Digression: Apologies in advance for the overindulgence of "me" talk and for all the bloody rambling. I haven't even had any wine - I'm just tired. End of digression.

Had an interesting conversation with a friend last night about wedding songs. As in "this was our wedding song" wedding songs, not the Electric Slide and the Hokey Pokey and that sort of shit. He was surprised to learn that I'd chosen my wedding song* even though I have no intention of getting married in the near future (or ever, for that matter).** My rationale for doing so is that if you meet someone and you find out (unintentionally, like when it comes onto the radio when you're both in the car or something) that he absolutely positively CANNOT STAND that song, it's probably time to move on.

Of course this is because music is such a key part of my life. I've talked about this elsewhere, but I have a memory for almost every single song I own. Like, when I hear "Cherub Rock" by Smashing Pumpkins I'm back in 1993, walking around the drillfield at Virginia Tech at 3am after hanging out with the self-proclaimed archidorks all night. If the radio plays "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley I'm in Yellowstone National Park, 1995, driving behind a gang of bikers to see Old Faithful. If I happen to hear "Three Strange Days" I'm back in 1991 sitting in my friend's dorm at UMCP, praying that his cute roommate will make me a copy of his School of Fish tape. (He did.) And the entire third album by Cake takes me back to my last remotely significant relationship, every day of it, for better or worse.

I could go on and on and on, but you get the point. Not all are great memories, but they're my memories that I actively choose not to hide away in some crevice of my brain and ultimately forget about. For whatever reason I want to keep this part of me and whoever I meet will have to accept that. And also like it. Dammit.

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* As of last night it was - was - the acoustic version of Everlong by Foo Fighters. His voice in that song just melts me, as girlie as that sounds. I've probably changed my mind about it, after thinking a lot all day about what the song probably means. Probably. OK I'm pretty sure, actually. (But if we go with the melty-voice concept it'll probably evolve into a Jack Johnson or Grant Lee Phillips song. Probably.)

** See, between relationships, songs, and who knows what else - I'm an equal non-committal opportunity employer.

The number of the day is four.

The most weirdly amusing things I have seen in California*, in no particular order:

-> The Winchester Mystery House
-> Harry Perry (second picture down)
-> The EUPHOR!UM
-> The Dead Hensons (check out their media files and sing along!)

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* Those that I remember, anyway. I'm sure I saw weirdly amusing stuff that I don't remember... But we won't go there tonight.

Thumbs go up, thumbs go down.

Real Women Have Curves: a lovely story, beautifully acted and totally believable.

Sideways: People have said that you either love this movie or you hate it. I have a theory about why this is so. The people who love this movie have never known people like the two characters in the film, and so they find them refreshing and amusing and whimsical. The people who hate this movie have known way too many people like the two characters in the film, and so they sit there feeling bitter about spending money and two hours of their lives on this flick, hoping something awful happens to one of the characters, and WANTING A GODDAMN GLASS OF WINE. (Guess which category I fall into?)

Alcohol, my permanent accessory.

I find it highly amusing that amongst the birthday gifts I received, the overarching theme was alcohol-related. From different people I got a nice margarita glass set; a cool retro martini glass (from which I can drink my premixed martinis I got for Christmas); a fancy schmancy wine opener that I've been dying to get my hands on so that I can throw out the cheap-ass wine opener from my Olive Garden days; a cute martini shaker containing coctail recipes; and a bottle of wine.

This was particularly timely given the state of affairs at work* right now. On Monday I have to have a meeting to talk about whether there needs to be another meeting. I honestly thought that only happened in Dilbert cartoons and as a result, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Still don't.

Forget the cafe lattes, screw the raspberry iced tea - a Malibu and Coke for you, a g&t for me...

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* I realize I could get fired for writing about work. That's okay with me right now.

How many...

Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; its conditions are improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence are a delusional spin from the liberal media. That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effect. Why do you hate freedom?

Six hours is too long for a flight.

Oh, and why do they say "we recommend you take your shoes off" if they mean "TAKE YOUR DAMN SHOES OFF!!"? And why do they say people CANNOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES stand at the front lavatory during flight, but during a 40 minute layover it's perfectly fine for people to gather up there all willy-nilly with no flight attendants lurking and the cockpit door wide open? And why do they call it a "lavatory" anyway???? And why do I always get stuck next to the grandparent who wants to "chat" the whole way there?

I hate flying.

In an effort to try to acclimate to left coast time and not fall asleep at 6pm, I watched two movies when I got home today. One (Rushmore) I could've done without - Election was much more entertaining. Not quite the same concept, but much more entertaining none the less. The other (Before Sunset) hit a little too close to home for me, although it was really well done and that's not something you hear often about a movie with two characters and pure dialogue.

I really must revisit my Netflix movie-picking strategies. Next up is Real Women Have Curves, which I expect to enjoy immensely, but after that I'm a little scared.

Take me home and leave me there.

Today in the used record store, on the shelf over the bins where they display albums they're trying to move quickly and/or they have a lot of, I saw Ani DiFranco next to Celine Dion. Words could not express my horror.

Yes, I was allowed out of the house today. Tomorrow it's on the plane and back to my "real" life of work and committments and responsibilities... To which I say, PHHHBBBBTTT. The more time I spend with my parents, the more I appreciate them (and all their quirks) but more importantly at the moment, the more I appreciate RETIREMENT. This must be what it's like - waking up, having things to do but no real pressing need to do them, and having plenty of time to get them done. I could survive on $15 a week. It would suck - a lot - at first, but I could do it.

In 37 hours I will be back at work. PHHHBBBBTTT.

Ever hear the expression "be careful what you wish for"?

I have... About 487 times since I arrived in Maryland to find snow on the ground, in fact, with a disproportionate emphasis on yesterday as it snowed and snowed and snowed. Note to self: in addition to never mentioning what time you usually get up in the morning, never again say you hope it snows while you're home.

So yesterday I sat under a blanket and watched movies I wouldn't normally watch under Oakland weather situations - Calendar Girls and Cold Mountain - both of which were better than I thought they would be. And then we all played a rousing game of Monopoly using a game set from approximately 1979. And today I guess I'll watch some football. Maybe tomorrow they'll let me out of the house. I'm only 30, lord knows I can't possibly drive on roads that were cleared of snow yesterday.

Send lawyers, guns and money...

Just kidding. I did not get arrested. I did not even call my parents on the way home pretending that I was calling from jail. (I fully intended to, but I was so depressed afterward that it didn't seem worth the effort.)

So. My area of the left coast has WAY better signs. And WAY better turnouts. And WAY fewer bonehead anarchist types who can't even set a flag on fire with a can of lighter fluid (though to be fair, they did manage to set themselves on fire a few times which, from my vantage point, is what caused the flags to eventually catch fire).

We also have way fewer snipers watching menacingly from building tops, way fewer ladies parading around in fur coats on their way to the many parties of the evening, and way more ability to organize a gimongous group of people in a short time frame to speak out against He Who Shall Not Be Named. I have not felt so out of place (and frankly, so disappointed but in a not-surprised way) in my hometown as I did today.

All this, added to the fact that yesterday on the plane I read Letters from Mississippi and then watched Mississippi Burning at the suggestion of my parents (after a discussion about the Freedom Summer)... All this has left me utterly bummed about humanity. I suppose I should revel in the energy of the protesters today and the civil rights workers in 1964 and the fictitious FBI agents who took on the KKK, but really, it just makes me very tired. Why is something that seems so logical - so much like common sense and decency - so utterly foreign to all these people including our leader-for-the-next-four-years-God-help-us??

I really just don't get it. I suppose I never will.

I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.

So I'm finding that Craigs List Washington DC, as well as protesting on this coast, both seem to be a little different than what I'm used to. Exhibit A, one of the few posts I've found so far having to do with inauguration protests*, from today's DC Craigs List:

"Be careful if going to the counterinaugural. The location is 1350 Okie Street NE, Washington, DC. I would not recommend going alone. Stay in groups. Should be avoided by the very young and old alike. Get out of here by dark. Don't wander, stay close as possible to New York Avenue. Don't go in alleys. I don't know where to park. Expect drug trade and working girls at night. Go Luck and have fun."

Oooooo-kay...

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* Then again I am using a dinosaur modem. There may be hundreds more posts with tons of information and I will fall asleep waiting before I get to them.

Screw you guys, I'm going home (again).*

Tomorrow, providing I get to bed at a reasonable hour tonight and actually wake up in time for the 6am shuttle, I am off again to the land of Merry to protest the inauguration and to get my very first (and possibly only, ever) facial in honor of my 30th birthday with my dear old friends and to see some relatives who have recently had health-related surgeries. I hope to post updates as they are deemed necessary, but as a disclaimer I offer the theme from Christmas about 56K modems and my intolerance of that nonsense... I might just have to fake you out again when I get back. I'll take pictures of the protest and share when I get my real** computer back, for anyone who's interested.

On an unrelated note, perhaps it was somewhat inappropriate to exclaim "now what the FUCK is THAT??" to a coworker in response to hearing about YET ANOTHER acronym-ridden managerial team that was formed in an effort to help us get our work done, but in an exasperating way it (the forming of the acronym-ridden team, not my exclamation) almost kinda makes sense. Almost kinda.

Happy "don't spend a dime," and/or "turn your back on Bush" day if I don't blather to you before then.

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* I do hope you get the South Park reference. If not, I take no responsibility for any offense you take to this recurring subject. It's your own damn fault for not being Cartman-attune.

** My "real" computer, a.k.a. my home computer which houses mostly music, has been defunct for almost 8 weeks now. However, all I really give two flying figs about is getting Neil Diamond OFF my iPod rotation, and pitting that against my personal tech support person having a newborn in the house and recently going back to work, I just don't feel the need to press the issue. :) Though the recent procurement of $35 in iTunes gift certificates is making me change my perspective on the whole thing, AHEM. Haha. Kidding. I swear. Really.

The not-so-fine line.

There is quite a big difference between not wanting to do something because it's hard yet you know that you really should do it, and not wanting to do something because it's hard and you have absolutely zero interest in doing it.

Oh, and another thing...

If you're a guy, and you're in the process of getting divorced, and you call an ex-girlfriend that you haven't spoken to in years - you call for solace, or to apologize for being an ass while you dated her, or for any other reason - you should realize that it might make YOU feel better but it doesn't make HER feel better. In fact, chances are that she hasn't thought about you in years, and calling her to talk will only serve to dredge up memories and feelings that she had no intention of reviving. So do us all a favor and put the phone down. Let the Rob Gordon fantasy go.

K? K.

Five random thoughts.

1. I think my iPod is psychic. Last night on the way home from Wake the Dead, a few of us were lamenting the fact that they didn't play "Cassidy," which is one of my favorite Dead songs. Unrelated (but not really), a few days ago my cousin mentioned his lack of Red Hot Chili Peppers and it occurred to me that I hadn't heard them in a while, and that I needed to change that soon.

Today I had to drive to San Leandro to run a bunch of errands so I took my iPod along and plugged it into the tape player. As is usually the case, it was on random song shuffle. The first song it played was "Cassidy," and the second song it played was "Mellowship Slinky in B Major." I'm really not kidding. Really. I can't tell you the last time I heard a Dead or RHCP song while it was on random shuffle. It was freaky enough that I started to think that the government might somehow be involved in the whole iPod phenomenon. The truth is out there, and Steve Jobs knows how to find it... (The next song - much to my relief - was a Lemonheads song. I have had no thoughts about the Lemonheads in many, many months.)

2. If I come to your house to drop something off without calling beforehand, and you're not wearing pants when I arrive, DO NOT answer the door. I beg of you. And for the love of God don't ask me if I want to come in. Just go about whatever it is that you're doing - WHATEVER it is - and ignore the doorbell. I'll leave the item on your porch and neither of us (meaning me) will be any the wiser.

3. I wonder if Olympic rhythmic gymnasts ever bring the ribbons home and use them as cat toys. If so, I bet Luna would love it if I were an Olympic rhythmic gymnast.

4. When are they going to start mandating parenting licenses, really now? I was in Target today and I can't tell you how many times I heard different parents say various formats of "shut the [expletive deleted] up and get in the [expletive deleted] cart!!!" This is why I hate people. You always wanna know why, well, take it in.*

5. And speaking of Tar-jay, are they really as evil as Wal-Mart? Please say no. Please?? But my new lamp shade is sooooo cute, and where else am I going to find a big ass bottle of Tide for $5??

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* A quote from The Opposite of Sex, as spoken by Lucia, who also said things like "You've got a death wish. That's so selfish. I have one too, but I direct it toward others"; and in answer to a question about how she got so bitter, "Observation." Me in ten years? Lucia.

Kill me now.

This evening at a volunteer meeting I actually found these words coming out of my mouth: "But it's not about the length of the message, it's about the content. It doesn't matter if someone sees a billboard for 5 seconds, a TV ad for 30 seconds or a speech that lasts an hour and a half - what matters is that each one gives the same message clearly and concisely and that you consider your audience."

I think all these years of working under the "marketing" umbrella are starting to pay off.

And to that I say, BLEAH.

Thumbs go up, thumbs go down.

Recent rentals: A Slipping Down Life, the tale of a rock star groupie who takes it one step farther than most. Disappointed thumbs go down (why, Lili, why??). And Maria Full of Grace, a harrowing tale about a girl trying to make her life better. Depressed - but impressed - thumbs go up.

And seen on TV, A Bug's Life, which I watched while "taking care of" the ants meandering around in my bathroom. It felt a little wrong to laugh at the cute little cartoon ants and then go squish the real live ones, but I got over it pretty quickly.

It occurred to me this morning...

... that the kind of people who didn't want to oust Bush because they didn't want to change presidents mid-war, are often the same kind of people who have no qualms about firing their football team's coach after a losing season or three.

I don't know why that fascinated me so, but it did.

Now accepting suggestions...

... for the text on the shirt I will wear when protesting the presidential inauguration in D.C. later this month. So far the only idea I have is, "I protested Bush's inauguration and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."

And in the spirit of 2004 top five lists...

But sans pop culture references because I really didn't get out much last year,* I bring you, in no particular order except for #1 of course, with many left off for brevity's sake, the top ten pets of 2005 (because five - hell, even ten - ain't enough):

10. Harper, the silent but deadly type.
9. Bernie, the hairy loveable leaning dog.
8. Sadie, the witching hour calls you (or wait, maybe it's the living room couch).
7. Sammie, one of the most tolerant dogs around.
6. Ansel, may she rest in peace, fweepsters unite.
5. Earl, may he rest in peace, give 'em hell in kitty heaven.
4. Gandalf, who ripeth apart the fuzzy mice.
3. Oscar-formerly-Oz, never shall the beast be tamed, rock on little man.
2. Cairo, ever living vicariously through your owner (or vice versa).
1. And of course Luna, may she reign supreme for all eternity.

Don't worry. I won't go all Jon Carroll on you. I promise. But furry friends are more important than pop culture sometimes. Most times, actually.

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*I honestly did try to do a 'top 5 movies,' 'top 5 books,' 'top 5 albums' list to accompany this but I got disgusted with myself when I could only think of 4 movies I'd seen, 3 albums I'd bought, and - this is the worst - one book I'd read last year. Then I realized I'd only read one book last year that was actually written last year. Somehow, though, that didn't make me feel much better. So yeah. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind rocked; Garden State was pretty great too. The latest Beastie Boys is really awesome (as is the latest Green Day and the latest R.E.M.). And I think it goes without saying that I adored - yes, adored - America (The Book)... So there's your informal top what-have-you list. To more pop culture in 2005!!

This [insert media of choice] has warped my fragile little mind.

Instead of going on and on about how depressing last week was, and how painful it is to hear the death tolls rising every single day, and how everyone should give give give because lord knows they need it more than we do, and how if you're holding a goddamn video camera taping people about to get mauled down by giant waves perhaps you ought to PUT DOWN THE GODDAMN VIDEO CAMERA and yell at the people to run for cover instead of trying to make a buck [link excluded because it makes me too damn mad]...

Yes, instead of all that sadness I bring you the top five things I should not have been exposed to at age seven, as inspired by a raunchy REO Speedwagon song I heard on the radio coming home.

5. Dallas.
4. REO Speedwagon's Hi Infidelity.*
3. The Thriller video.
2. Three's Company.
1. Poltergeist.

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* For some reason unbeknownest to me, my parents let me play this record, along with Kim Carnes' Mistaken Identity (featuring the ever popular Bette Davis Eyes), over and over again. When I was SEVEN. That's just wrong.

Sleepers that are true to their word.

Two flicks that disappointed me recently, that got rave reviews but were just unbearable to watch: We Don't Live Here Anymore and Napoleon Dynamite.

I fell asleep during both.

I'm actually quite sure the Nyquil had nothing to do with it. They just bored me.