bitterdiva

Brewstock

Finally uploaded are pictures of Brewstock. It was a damn good time to be had by all. Some of the best times were, well the one dollar beers from various microbrewies such as Harpoon, Paper City, Rock Art, Magic Hat, Long Trail, Otter Creek, and others. The music was overall decent with the highlight being The Jazz Mandolin Project and hanging out with Jamie who remembered both Mer and myself from her being on their list and my infamous incident at Revolution Hall for not being allowed to grab food and re-entering. This time, we have the memory of Yoda being in attendance with an awesome picture of the three of us making Yoda faces, mine severely lacking.

Driving to Mount Snow was certainly an adventure with "Pavement Change"s which consisted of ripping up entire stretches of road by a lake. The drive back in the dark with no streetlights was virtually a sobriety test to which I passed having stopped drinking around 5ish to safely get the group home.

It was a most excellent time and I certainly wouldn't miss next year's for anything. Though I think we'll be better prepared by packing some snacks, bottles of water, and perhaps some food that wasn't comprised entirely of meat. I hope everyone else's Labor Day weekend was just as kickass as ours and it isn't even over yet!

7 prayers | 05:43 PM

Bee you tee full

Meteorologically speaking I don’t think today could get any better – woke up it was 50 degrees; it’s currently sunny, the humidity no longer resembles a sweaty fat man, and the bloody fantastic breeze is cooling down the warmness of the sun. I wish this weather would last for six months of the year. I’d have three months of winter and three months of fall and the rest would be this. During noonsies I went for a drive in search of something sweet and I realized halfway to the cluster of various fast-food shops that it was frozen yogurt I was seeking. Nonfat Vanilla and Strawberry frozen yogurt and I must say that it was better than Tastee Freeze’s and cheaper too.

Financially speaking, I got more issues than Stan Lee and a wallet that has more bank receipts than cash. Currently available to me is $100 to last me two weeks and within those two weeks I have to buy books for class, and fill the oversized and environmentally unfriendly gas tank. With gas around the $1.90/gallon mark I’m a hurting mofo. And there has been no further word about the web managing position – I think that I probably won’t hear anything for another two months. If it wasn’t for the positive weather I think I would be dry heaving out of my ass again from all the stress and worries.

I turn now to the social commentary of my life. Let’s see, that wedding season has begun folks and this weekend would have been the second wedding I would have attended. But because of the earlier report and the JMP concert in Vermont this weekend, I’m not going. Luckily for me, my mother is picking up a gift from me. Shit, two weeks from today is Kristian’s birthday (and luckily the day before is payday)… if you’re looking for details on what’s happening for his birthday, e-mail me. The weekend after that, I’m out of town into NYC to see the sexiest Englishman living in the US: Neil Gaiman. I’m having a four-day weekend the last weekend in September to attend another wedding and celebrate the birth of my sibling – in her fashion, drunk.

The first weekend in October hangs in the balance, I most likely will be around the Albany area if I’m not in Boston or Connecticut, but that would make three weekend trips to Connecticut in a row and I don’t think I could tolerate that. The Friday after is my birthday, I don’t know what’s going on for that weekend, I think I’m in town. I don’t even think my family is going to do anything special for my birthday this year, but that doesn’t bother me – my parents’ visit to me on my 25th was a present alone that’ll last several years. As long as I get my free bloody beer from Mahar’s I’ll be content. And I’m rather disappointed to say there are currently no trips to any Renaissance Festivals in the foreseeable future.

Last night us GutterMuggles ventured over to the bowling alley to pick up and get our balls drilled and to hit some dollar games of bowling. In the fashion of planet mofo, mine was still not available. Evidently the place is rife with illiterate dolts who cannot differentiate between red sparkle and red and blue sparkle. It is now backordered and has the potential to arrive on Friday for possible drilling on Saturday. This dis-organization never ceases to screw up one matter ever week, sometimes I wonder how they managed to stay in business this long.

6 prayers | 01:34 PM

Funeral finality

During the funeral of an old coworker of mine, I was standing, sitting, or kneeling (depending upon the part of the service that happening) thinking of the overwhelming sorrow I was feeling. The past two ceremonies I attended were unconventional, one was for a child of almost 3 and the other was for my grandmother (a memorial service since the funeral happened in Sin City but her urn was present). For both of those ceremonies I had someone I loved immensely by my side, today was different. And with that thought in mind, I embarked on a torturous contemplative path that one does during times when death is parading in your face. I thought of all the “What if”’s – what happens when my mother dies, or my father; what if my brother or sister should pass on; what do I do if I lose Kris?

Part of my sorrow was based on my thought patterns; the other part of my sorrow was not for the deceased but for her family and friends. As Pat put it nicely, it was chain-reaction crying. I saw her adult daughter in the beginning and ending processions crying hysterically and immediately the tear ducts released their grasp and the waterworks started. I felt sorrow for this woman and I felt pity. Her mother was involved in her life more than she probably should have been but now she’s gone and the incomprehensible and irreversible loss was overwhelming.

Today I realized that mourning the individual’s loss of life seems pointless. The person no longer suffers from the unrelenting pain that plagued their life for the last several months. Although the heart may stop so does the pain. The faithful rejoice for the belief in life after death eases the grief of life without them. Grateful that the pain is over, I should be celebrating her life not wallowing in the lack thereof.

As one of the unfortunate outcomes of taking our first breath in this world, we shall also take our last breath. Unless we’re Bill Gates, because I’m convinced that fucker is never going to die – he shall live forever forcing Microsoft products onto the denizens of the world. Even I will transcend from this earthy plane of existence to my obsidian throne smiting down the cretins.

To change the track I somehow switched upon, I take you to here. Two songs that should be banned from Catholic funerals: On Eagle’s Wings and Amazing Grace. Amazing Grace is the ultimate song that no matter what creed it is played to honour the deceased. However, after hearing it performed by a bag piper, organs do it no justice. If this overdone, melancholic song is required to be heard at my farewell party, I hope that someone has the chutzpah to bring in bottles of vodka and a bagpiper.

9 prayers | 04:31 PM

Contemplation aggregation

My dreams of late have been fabulous; fabulously insane that is. Thursday night I dreamt about one of my coworker’s wife who was practicing witchcraft and as I was talking with her, her left eye began to multiple and morph into one huge gigantic black orb eye from which a demon burst forth. I would have to say it was very much in the style and theme of Akira with the camp factor of Army of Darkness.

This morning’s dream had Aleister Crowley in it and I was battling a wary against a Lego fortress, done in black and grey Legos like the ones that come in the castle or Harry Potter sets. The citizens of the Lego fortress were Lego Transformers and despite the fact that the fortress and Transformers were made out of the Lego plastic they were unmarked by the siege.

Also, walking into work this morning I find out that my ex-coworker passed away on Saturday. Her suffering is over which is a good thing, I just wished she was able to fully enjoy the entirety of her last weekend, which was the most beautiful weekend all summer. After finding out about that depressing news, I find out that another coworker’s (to whom I’m relatively close) mother passed away after battling liver cancer. Needless today, I’m going to be honoring the recently deceased this evening in true Irish style, by drinking.

I was reading all the current news updates for New York when I find an ad with pig wearing a tutu dancing around off Syracuse’s Post-Standard site . It’s for Gianelli Sausage and it states, try some at the NY State Fair. I go to the website and I find that same smiling dancing pig picture on their site right next to a sausage on tongs with a grill full of sausages behind it. I don’t particularly enjoy the fact that I eat meat, even more, I particularly hate it when companies remind me that the thing I’m currently ingesting could have been a smiling pig dancing around in a pink tutu.

Since returning from Ireland, I’ve been listening to Red FM out of Cork and 10 till every hour they have a news update. This morning’s update was how there was talk of pushing through a tax on fast food to help fight heart disease in the country. Despite the fact that 30% of the child population in the country is overweight and adult citizens also have issues with obesity, I think there might be some other more important factors that are contributing to the cause of heart disease.

I believe the smoking ban has gone through but the Irish Independent has a fantastic article about working through differences of smoking and non-smoking patrons of drinking establishments and allowing regulations which will save the smaller pubs from being wiped out due to lack of smoking customers. It seems that Ireland and US are not that dissimilar afterall in politics. Though if given the choice between Ireland and US, I’d gladly throw down my New York accent for a brogue.

As I was reading 1602 I had the faintest hint that the characters in the book were somehow familiar to me. Come to find out from Kris, there was a multitude of Marvel references. I have to say it was absolutely excellent and pretty and it made my first comic book store visitation all the more pleasant. I guess I'm not a virgin in that aspect anymore and it just turns me on when I hear Pat and Kris talking about comics. I'm such a freak.

3 prayers | 10:27 AM

Life, sunflowers, and the pursuit of happiness

Driving around with my digital camera on me is pretty convenient, especially when I'm in the country and there's a patch of sunflowers along side the road. Ever since I've returned from Ireland, I doubt there's a day when I don't have my camera on me and it's been for the best. I've caught downpours on my window, lunar moths outside my office, Yoda doing various things, and sunflowers by the side of the road.

I enjoy the freedom of catching life's little moments when you're least expecting them. It makes the trouble of living seem more profound and enjoyable. Granted we each have our moments when the wish of death passes on our lips but really we're just big babies. We don't really want death, we just want the pain and agony to be taken away from us. But what is life without pain? Could we really enjoy the better moments life gives us if we weren't allowed to experience the torturous moments, the embarassment of youth, the pain of loss in our elder years?

Instead of stopping to smell the roses some time, stop and take a picture of the sunflowers it'll last longer.

4 prayers | 08:45 AM

More Virii than the CDC

It all began Monday night when Patrick and I embarked on a laundry mission. Kristian hadn't been feeling well from his lack of sense and eating Hamburger Helper and as the nice person that I am agreed to do his laundry. Though I did get my laundry done for free and 20 samoleons out of the deal which I can't be too entirely upset over.

For the first time this summer when having to do laundry duing a week night, So-white was looking pretty empty. I'm all excited because laundry at So-White means ice cream at Tastee Freeze. About mid-way through laundry and after ice cream (which was by the way Non-fat Raspberry and Vanilla twist soft serve with a Black Raspbery shell dip thing) my nasal cavaties start filling up. Not good.

By the time I returned home, not only were my nasal cavities fucked, but my throat began hurting. Knowing that this was going to turn ugly, I took some Alka-Seltzer cold and passed the fuck out. Although I was half in and out of sleep that night with my sore throat, I managed to get a decent night's rest.

At work, around 9 am , I began to receive the barrage of virus infected e-mails from a state office. I had the immediate impression that the file mailed to me was infected but I checked with Kris just to be certain. I mean, a person I don't know sending me an attached .pif file with some bogus re: subject header immediately triggers the "Danger Will Robinson" signal.

The fact that our anti-virus software allowed this file to get through triggered the, "Oh Shit" response. I know how people are, I know it only takes one office idiot to open the attachment and potentially bring that system down. Especially if they're like my e-mail account housing 500 email addresses to most of the school districts in the state.

I alert the lead programmer, who in turn hands me the phone to alert the sys admin. I received his voice mail. My boss happens to pass a couple of moments later and I give him a heads up on the situation. He has me try the other sys admin (who is on vacation). I leave a voice mail for both, and a couple of moments later the sys admin comes up and starts checking things out. By this time I had received a grand total of 26 tainted emails.

I realize that I don't have a degree in some form of computer technology, whether it is programming or administering systems. However, I am a fairly intelligent person that is sensible and fully capable of knowing vast information. When asked why I thought these e-mails were containing virii, I said, first off all the attachments are .pif files, secondly they all are the same file with similar subject headings, and I don't know any of these people.

Several hours later, turns out that yes, bitterdiva you were in fact correct, these were all containing a virus. The other part of my day was spent trying to show the admin that I wasn't infected. You can't become infected if you don't open the attachment, but I digress. Needless to say, the case of the virus emails was solved, the definitions hadn't been updated for week.

I would like to think because of my quick thinking and proactive approach to this problem, I saved the organization from a very large headache. The only headache that I currently have is the one from the virus within me. So I am home today, trying to catch up on some rest and fluid intake and dosing myself with drugs. But I will say this, NyQuil gel caplets are not the same as the liquid, they don't have the alcohol in them to knock you out, and they kept me up all night. I don't think I slept an hour straight and I lost count of the number of times I was in the loo pissing.

8 prayers | 11:53 AM

Past enters present circle

I live in the present. The past for me is too long ago that I have zipped it up and archived it for later use in the future. I have forgotten all the physical attributes of which my friends are compiled. The only thing for me that I remember is the color of their hair.

Why cannot I embrace the past? Because its full of fucking moronic people who seem to have either hurt or forgotten me. Ex-boyfriends I cannot deal with because I just want to drive to their homes and take a deuce in their computer case. Friends have all moved away and started getting engaged, married, or having children. I give myself a lot of shit saying that I'm bitter, angry, and full of spite and revenge greater than Napoleon at Waterloo. The truth is, I am bitter and angry and full of spite, revenge and malice; but I do have a lighthearted side to me as well full of compassion, thoughtfulness, sympathy, and understanding. Though it mainly involves cute little furry creatures I do feel for living beings. And rarely do I forget someone’s birthday.

In fact, I make sure that if some friend in my past has had a birthday, I e-mail them birthday wishes; because, I would want someone to do that for me. Does anyone in the past that I know of do that? No. No one remembers me on my birthday, no one sends birthday greetings to me, and I believe that half of the people fail to even remember me during the year until I send them a birthday greeting. One of my worst fears is spending my birthday entirely alone; I would rather die in excruciating deaths than to be alone. Birthdays are like bouquets; they look like shit when there’s only one of them.

It hurts me greater than Chinese water torture to have the people that I once cared for forget all about me. And granted, I don't make much effort of trying to get in touch with them simply because I don't see much of an effort being made by them.

That being said and getting back to my point is that Kris never has a problem with people hating him. At times, I'm often surprised at all the people that he knows and is friends with even if he doesn't admit it himself. He gets under people's skin like a cult leader and they just flock to hear the word of Kristian. I'm pretty certain if you looked at his persona dna it would be quite similar to Koresh, Manson, Bush, and Timothy Leary.

In the past several weeks most of the important exes have gotten in touch with him, one's pregnant and married, one just got married yesterday (we were at the wedding), and there's one he hasn't talked with that is engaged. It's somewhat relieving for me to know that all these women are betrothed if not seriously involved with someone else. I'm not a jealous person but I do worry about these women trying to come back crawling and use the power of their cooch to influence him. It has happened before.

What irritates me the most is the audacity one of these women have in saying that she has forgiven Kris and that she hopes he can return the sentiment. If he can, he’s an entirely better person than myself because of all the psychological torment she inflicted on him, I myself would have problems trying to restrain myself from inflicting physical damage.

7 prayers | 11:11 AM

My Goodness My Baby Guinness

So this is twice this week that I had to experience some calamity at work. Monday morning a water main broke in the city of Troy wiping out water to the E.G. and Schodack area. Yesterday, although work was over, the power went kaput. That was a lot of fun with having to go to the bathroom but didn’t want to have to do my business in pitch black in fear of being eaten by a grue.

I went over to kris’s work and due to the contract they have with the state his building has generators because they have to be up at all times (or at least until 10 or something like that). Call home in Connecticut no power there, get in touch with mer and she had no power at work. Find out that Schenectady is also gone along with most of NY, Michigan, Ohio, and some places in Canada.

The ride home wasn’t bad actually, once we got into Albany the power was on in parts of downtown, mainly Madison Avenue, enable us to get home safely. The only bad part of the splotchy power outage was that Mahar’s was affected so no beer and as we were assuming, no bowling. Pat arrives home given a ride by a Tom who was celebrating his birthday, we encouraged him to hang out and help rescue the beers in the fridge from the potential demise. We’re Good Samaritans – never let the beer turn to the skunk side.

Pat and Tom walk down to the corner store to see if they had power and to pick up more beers and cigarettes. Fortune smiled upon us, the block over had power meaning the corner store did as well. Coming back from the walk carrying a 12-pack of Molson under their arms the neighbors across the street take notice of their successful mission and inquire where such goods were purchased. Ten minutes later we see the neighbors walking back home with a 12-pack and a case of Busch cans. Not like these people really needed to drink more since once was already lying prone on the porch.

Turkey burgers were made and we headed downstairs to continue our little fiesta on the picnic table and the grill. In the 20 months we have resided at the apartment, this was the first time ever using the picnic table so another reason to celebrate. Around 8 o’clock the power returns and there was much more rejoicing and rang up mer to find out if she also was fortunate in the Return of the Electricty episode. She wasn’t but was on her way over to spend it with us and in hopes of going to Mahar’s set off on a scouting mission.

Upon her arrival she was woot-ing thereby informing us of the auspicious and surprising news that mahar’s was in deed open and there were already people at the bar. We all mosey on down for some tasty pints sans Kris who’s several sheets to the wind by this point. We get there, get our list, get beer and sit.

I had the Sly Fox Black Raspberry Wheat Ale and I have to say for the first time this fruity little number didn’t do it for me. Perhaps it was all the Raspberry such and such I had already or the sour cherry ale that I had early. Mer and Pat spot the Marlboro cigarette guy outside and hook themselves up with the copper Zippo they’re handing out for completion of a survey. Tom and I wanting a second one, head over to Alibis where the guy was asking all the customers if they wanted to partake in the survey.

We follow the guy into the bar, and never having been in there before I don’t very much care for the vibe the place had going on. I like my bars with a lot of light this reminded me of a clinic catering to drunken insomniacs who haven’t slept in fifty years. It was dark, with lots of red lighting. The ambiance of the place was how I imagine strip clubs, now all I needed were the skanks hopped up on amphetamines giving lap dances to the male patrons. Which is who the people inside the bar were, middle classed men in dress shirts and ties. I felt dirty.

Tom and I agree to do a shot, he wants vodka and I immediately say Baby Guinness. I love my Baby Guinness like there’s no tomorrow and sometimes it feels that way when I wake the next morning. If you don’t know what a Baby Guinness is, here’s the 411. It’s 2.5 oz of Kaluha poured into a shot glass and 0.5oz of Bailey’s poured carefully against wall of the glass. You can now guess why it’s called a Baby Guinness. So the vacuous, buxom, bartendress needs to be enlightened (this place is a Martini bar not an Irish bar) – she gives us the shot and it goes down so smooth and creamy just like ice cream.

Street talk commences along with giddiness, which is a sign that I’m feeling pretty good at that moment. We got the Zippos and head back over to Mahar’s joining back up with Mer and Pat. Tom and I switch beers and I get Mer interested in a Baby Guinness (B.G.). Outside for a cigarette and then back over to Alibis for a shot of B.G. which the Mistress of the Alcohol fouls up but what can you do when she gives you a shooter instead of a shot for the same price. It’s not supposed to be shaken but in my drunken state I couldn’t exactly inform her of the proper procedures and amounts. It was still damn tasty though.

Back outside Mer bums a cigarette from someone and I start talking with two guys. You know I’m happy when I become social and outgoing. I was helpful to one guy Dave who was in search of a cigarette vending machine. They’re not very prevalent these days with the smoking ban, and in fact I believe there’s some clause of the law that they’re not supposed to be in bars. Oh well. The vending machine in Alibis works for the moment and I was the Goddess with Singles, giving Dave change.

Tom and I sit back down at the table and I start speaking with a brogue. The stages I go through with drinking are like the security levels: there is Code Giddy, Code Social (which is so named for the many socials called by my hysterical laughter), Code Chatty, Code Brogue, and finally Code Bed (since it’s the only word I’m capable of saying without taxing my functioning life supports). Figuring that this was a good time to go home at quarter to midnight I did so and the walk back home was a lot better than the walk to Mahar’s probably because of the temporal disruption with being drunk.

I woke up this morning thinking it was Saturday and was extremely irritated that it was in fact Friday and I had to go to work. I forwent the shower for the extra 15 minutes of waking time but I think I came out of the night pretty well with my 5 beers and two shots. I love being of drinking decent!

6 prayers | 09:21 AM

Summertime and the reading’s easy

The count of books read this summer stands at a whopping seven, which is an all time summer record for me; I believe that’s even a record for the number read in a year. I believe I said this before; I’m not a very big literary person – in my youth the idea of being forced to read books was never appealing. Mandating that a person read something because it’s apart of standardized curriculum completely turns me off, especially if that book is some timeless tradition that all persons within a certain age group must read.

Children today have it easier, when given the task for a book report they can now turn to Harry Potter, Coraline, or The Thief Lord, and numerous other fantastic reads that were unfortunately not around ten to fifteen years ago. I applaud the brave authors that take a blind leap and embark on journeys full adventure captivating a wide range of audiences. The efforts put forth by these select few are opening new worlds to children today, unbeknownst to these kiddies, they will grow up as well-rounded individuals than those a generation before them.

The opportunities available today such as advancing and affordable technology and imaginative literature present a solution to the village idiots running a muck in the country. Feeling a bit nostalgic and perhaps a bit ancient, I think of the web as a child. As I entered college, the internet was pre-pubescent, it was growing in spurts but it was still too elementary and awkward so it was unpopular, unaffordable, and only the government, businesses, and educational institutions were harnessing that power.

As a couple of years passed (but not too many) the child entered puberty, growing at a fast rate and the elite slowly became commonplace. I remember a time when companies’ commercials were boasting about their new websites introducing it to millions of citizens acclimating them to the idea of an url. Not all companies however were prestigious enough to have their own website and it was a mixture of commercials with and without urls.

More development ensued with the child, as it became a teenager, faster and more powerful leading away from dial-up connections to a continuous connection of broadband. The world was reformed and every company hopped on the bandwagon to give the increasing numbers of web savvy customers information about their products. A new branch of computer science became prominent and employment opened up to the select few would find their niche in web programming. A teenage crush came into existence.

A teenage crush is so named for the half-life uncertainty and impending weight of disappointment lurking around the bend. Like so many teenage crushes, individuals become hurt; the once child now teenager beheld an extraordinary beauty drawing millions to its enchantment. Citizens fell in love and used the teenager to build up their bank, savings, and stock accounts. But the teenager grew unreliable under the misdirection of its lovers and the affair ended like an ugly middle-aged divorce. Many were separated, some remain on the hinge of the affair, and some worked through the differences and were unscathed.

Today the teenager is still growing, blossoming into a young adult full of vices such as porn, gambling, and multiplayer online gaming. The pain of the past is slowly healing and becoming ancient history. The adult is more reliable but that’s only because of the learned lessons and the lack of fanatic citizens placing the adult on a pedestal to be worshiped. It does, however, have a supernatural power of a god; the knowledge contained within its system is all knowing and all-powerful, it almost has every answer to your questions. It could also be compared to a prostitute, every month you give the pimps of the adult your money and they provide you with every facet of its being.

Comparing the internet to a human being does have one major glitch, such as life expectancy. But at some point in their lives the prophets, and humane figures of religion had a life expectancy and they continue to exist in some fashion, transcending into eternity. Or just like Eddings’ Ancient One, Belgarath, the internet can become the Eternal Man. (Oh come on, you knew somewhere that I had to throw in one of the characters from the series I’m reading and merge the alpha and omega of this post.)

No prayers | 11:51 AM

Weekend Roundup

Traveling 175 miles with shot brakes may have not been the best idea I have come up with in a long time. It was rather fortunate that Kris and I survived the trek to beautiful, overcast and subtropically humid New Haven sans catastrophic incident. I went home to visit with my father for his birthday, which was the previous week, and despite my mother’s wishes for my trip home last weekend I figured workshops and Phish tour were enough to delay the drive down. Besides, who would have petted the kitties whilst we were away?

After dropping off a coworker (something that I had predicted that I would do in the morning because of the luck I have), I drove over to Kris’s jobbie job. I sat in the car for 40 minutes in the very agitating heat, humidity and lack of breeze. Almost passing out due to heat stroke and dehydration, Kris eventually gets out of work and we head over to Bennigan’s for dinner. There’s nothing better than a Friday dinner with your significant other on payday, especially when it’s his payday and he’s buying.

On the way home we pass a billboard for seeplymouth.com – I don’t think urls should be on billboards with the main focus on them and then pictures of what it’s all about underneath. I have reading comprehension problems so I parse it as sleepymouth.com and I’m wondering what in the world is sleepymouth doing with cranberries and whales? Kris says, “what’s seeply mouth,” upon vocalization of this phrase I put the two mangled phrases together to figure out See Plymouth. I laughed. (Sleepymouth.com is still available).

We make it to the land of the silent “C” after dark but the family is still around except for my sister who is chillin’ at her place making blueberry scones for my father. I tell them the great news that is me being offered the position of web manager for my organization meaning more bling for me (perhaps even the actual amount I should be getting paid). Much rejoicing and my brother gives me a present from his trip to Maine, a poisonous toads blue t-shirt – ROCK!

As everyone had fallen asleep I remained wide-awake watching one of those horrible movies on HBO at 1 in the morning. Turbulence 3: Heavy Metal. It’s hysterical if you like mocking stereotypical Goths, especially goth groupies. The premise of the movie is a goth band’s final show is being performed on a plane all the while there’s some satanic cult trying to make a prophecy come true that’ll bring about the Anti-Christ. There’s a hacker trying to get into the web tv system airing the final concert and a FBI hot chick hacker (who I believe is the chick from Mall Rats) working together to help land this plane after the cult uprising kills one of the pilots and assumes the identity of the lead singer. I don’t do recaps very well, but the funniest thing in the movie besides the bad goth kiddies is that the prophecy is the Stull Prophecy which has to do with Stull, Kansas -one of the seven gateways to hell. I think I should feel very ashamed in the matter that I actually knew what Stull, Kansas is all about but I don’t. At least I know that one part of the movie contains an actual fact – if that fact just happens to be some supernatural unproven factoid about the most evil cemetery in America.

Saturday morning the car gets brought into the shop – new brakes and rotors are needed on top of new tires. Come to find out the jerkass who fixed the struts on my car earlier this year (at a completely overpriced amount) didn’t put them on correctly, or forgot to put on the boot. So now the struts are corroded and need to be redone, luckily for me I still have the paperwork. The car is happy once again and I have piece of mind driving it around the place, including the trip back to NY.

Due to several requests by Kris, I broke down and made French toast for my family including vegetarian sausage that I had my mom pick up at the store. I’m evil and mean and I decided to subject my brother to this sausage since he basically never eats anything healthy, I blatantly forgot to tell him that it wasn’t meatless until the right time. He eats most of the first one, looks up at me and asks, “did you cook this?” I started to giggle answering in the affirmative then continued to say, “it’s vegetarian sausage.” He run for the toilet spitting it out so it couldn’t have been that bad, in fact he finished his second piece. My sister did enjoy it however.

I had persuaded my mother to cook dinner instead of going out on Friday saying it would be more cost effective but the air was as dense as Dubya and everyone was in a foul mood wishing desperately for some air conditioning. The consensus for eating out prevailed and we ventured off to Outback. It was the second time I had a blooming onion since my surgery – Worst. Idea. Ever. Between the blooming onion and the Immodium I had taken Friday I was in agony.

At night we saw League of Extraordinary Gentlemen – and I have to say I was relatively surprised overall on the movie. I was calling it the league of extraordinary bad movies but it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t even tolerable – it was decent. The cinematography was fantastic, the colors were vibrant, Stuart Townsend had a good role and Sean Connery wasn’t as pompous as I thought he was going to be. Definitely buying this movie when it comes out on DVD.

I think that’s pretty much the weekend. Long stories could’ve been made short but I’ll be longwinded.

8 prayers | 04:44 PM

The portrait of a forehead at an early age

Over the weekend at my parents place they had asked me to throw out any stuff that I didn't want. I happened across a box of old high school materials such as plays, writings, old textbooks, and awards. One of the things I found was a Newspaper arcticle about the New Haven Register Youth of the Year. Each high school had to select one senior that best represented some criteria (overall an outstanding student). After getting all excited about finding it I looked at the picture that was kittycorner to mine and there it was in all forehead glory. The Picture I remember mocking this picture when I first saw it, the name had stuck out to me and so did the brows. It's funny to look back on things in the past and come across a person that you didn't know whose face became a postered wall of a high school girl's locker.

3 prayers | 08:40 AM

What you talkin 'bout Willis?

It appears that Gary Coleman will be running for governor when the voters decide on October 7 whether to recall Gov. Gray Davis and his replacement. The other candidate that I find extremely hilarious is Arnold "The Terminator" Schwarzenegger.

I'll honestly and blatantly state here and now, I'm not a politician, I don't understand politics, and I don't understand Californians. Especially when the news I hear out of CA is either about Bloods & Crips, Hollywood and their quirkiness (including Oxygen bars), earthquakes, and pandas. Pandas are the highlight of California mainly at the San Diego Zoo.

I couldn't honestly have Arnold as a governor, I would think I'd be too freaked out that he'd one day turn into a machine and start killing off all the John Connor's in the state.

As a candidate I would love to see Mr. T as governor. Maybe I should start a campaign for Mr. T as Governor of New York. At least he's fashionable and does something with his hair as opposed to Pataki. And when the legislature comes around to the budget passing time of the year and they're late as usual he can say, "I pity the fool who don't pass a budget" then he can bust out moves A-Team style.

5 prayers | 01:48 PM

Bubba Ho-What?

Yesterday my brother messaged me to ask if I heard about the new Bruce Campbell movie called Bubba Ho-Tep. Feeling left out of the Bruce Campbell loop, I went in search for the movie’s website. Last night I watched the trailer and I have to say, this has to be one of the most hysterical movies out there. Unfortunately it’s not doing a national release, selected theatres only; so I would have to travel to the NYC theatre. What is even more disheartening is that I just checked the schedule to see if it would coincide with our visit to see Neil but it’s the next Friday. Poo!

In other entertainment news, I spent this past weekend watching the same three episodes of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Mer and John were raving about the show when we were at the Shebeen so I did what any other curious mind would do, went to TVguide.com and checked the listings. They were playing them a bunch every night of the weekend so I even managed to DVR two of the three episodes. In the current world of reality television I found that my TV remains off for the lack in quality (certainly not quantity of these shows). Last night I found myself eagerly awaiting the show and I was not disappointed. The fab five transforms the common Joe into a stylish hunk and that’s certainly no small feat. I just feel bad for them when they enter the straight guy’s place. They’ve been bombarded with rooms that look like an F5 tornado just whipped through with mounds of dirty dishes from months past, dirty clothes, disorganization, and unbelievable furnishings. Who knows, it might actually get K motivated to become more fashionable hip.

Chex Snack Mix: best snackfood ever! K and I bought a huge bag at Target over the past weekend. I’ve been giving him sandwich bags full to bring to work in hopes that he’ll just eat something that isn’t soda. Sitting here contemplating the goodness that was the cheese flavoured, I wondered to myself, what are these little triangles and how did they worm their way into the bag to replace the peanuts? The peanuts were so good and they gave some protein to the salty carbohydrate mix completing the yin and yang of snacking. Now I’m left with funky triangles of cheese crackers in the now turned even healthier snack. Not that I’m complaining since I really can’t digest peanuts but it was something to break up the monotony though now I’m prompted to play even more with my snack by making hexagons and flowers out of my chex. My favorite chex: the corn chex because the wheat one makes me choke.

7 prayers | 11:30 AM