This is about 9/11 but not really

So, it's been 8 years since Sept. 11th and it's true what they say. You always remember where you were when something like that happens. My mom used to say that she can remember the assassination of JFK like it was yesterday and I never really understood that concept until I was alive during a similar national tragedy. I can't remember yesterday but damn do I remember that morning 8 years ago. I can even remember the weather. I remember every terrible minute. Watching those buildings fall over and over again. I try not to dwell on terrible things in my past but I think it would be irresponsible not to remember it. Remembering how I felt. How if that was MY city I couldn't imagine the sorrow and rage I would feel. Just taking a few minutes to remember honors those who risked everything and some, their lives, to help strangers. People that ran into a burning collapsing building without hesitation because it was what they were trained to do. Remembering how much pride we all felt and how people were a tad bit nicer to each other. Not dwelling on the sadness but remembering how we all came together. That is something that we shouldn't forget no matter what.

Ok, enough of the serious stuff. Speaking of the heightened airport security that arose from Sept. 11th. I had an interesting little mash up with TSA last week when Mike and I were leaving to go to Chicago for a couple days. I have an awesome necklace that is a small pink version of brass knuckles with a banner that says "bitches get stitches" someday I'm sure it will get me into a fight with a bitch that I know I will not win but that's not the point of this bloggie. So, right at the last minute I threw it into my purse and left for the airport. We get there, pay for pox to fly with us (which is $125 each way for her to be jammed under the seat in front of us in case you were wondering) and headed to security. We get thru security and the lady asks whose stuff the studded belt belongs to. I raise my hand and think that there is some new law and I shouldn't have worn that belt.

The lady brings me over and tells me that I have brass knuckles in my purse and that it's a felony. I looked at her with confusion and then it dawns on me that she means my necklace. So, I start to explain that it's a necklace while she digs thru my purse to find it. By this time Mike has come over to see what the hub bub is about. She pulls out my necklace and puts her fingers in as much as she can which is like just past her fingernails and tells me that this could be used as a weapon and I can't take it on the plane. Now, because Mike is the guy he is and he has NEVER responded well to authority in all the years I have known him, he starts to tell her that if in fact I used the necklace as brass knuckles and punched someone I would break my hand. And that he has a pen in his pocket that he could kill someone with, or that he could take the knife they give you with the meal and stab someone with it, or that I could do more damage with my bare fist than with the necklace. Or that for christ sakes we have a dog with us that could do more damage than anything (but of course we just paid $250 for her so she somehow is allowed) So, after seeing the look on her face, and knowing that this was a discussion that could very easily land us both in prison, I start to look for what can be done so we can move on and board our plane. She tells me I have 3 options. I can basically throw it away, BUY a bag and then pay another $25 fee to check it (yes, that was actually a suggestion) or mail it to myself. I chose the not completely idiotic mail option after which she tells me that it is back outside of security but the line isn't that long so I should be fine. And to take a pen cause there probably isn't one out there.

Mike starts in on how he does in fact have a pen that once again is more of a weapon than a necklace so I grab the necklace and leave security for the front. I get to the little station and realize of COURSE it's not regular cheap mail it's special airport mail...and that means it's going to cost $11 to send something 20 minutes away from the airport. And it's going to take 5 weeks. Keep in mind that we live literally 20 minutes away from the airport. So I begrudgingly put down my debit info and put it in the little plastic bag and drop it in the thing realizing that this could very well be the last I ever see of my necklace. I go thru security again...pick up my stuff and head to our gate. On the way we play a little game of seeing how many other things we see off hand that would be a better weapon than a fake brass knuckle necklace. We saw about 20 million things. I know it is her ass if I did in fact kill someone with my necklace and I know she was just doing her job but somehow when there is money that starts to get involved it makes me instantly suspicious of the motive for things. I guess I would have just felt better if she said she had to confiscate it and that was that. I have a sneaking suspicion that soon you will be able to bring weapons onto the plane...but you'll have to pay a fee.

Random Friday bulllllshit

Woohoo 3 days in a row of writing. And yes, I am counting today even tho it's random friday bullshit day. It counts...

I realized WAY too late the other night that the show I was zoned out watching was Big Brother After Dark on Showtime and I had just spent a good 25 minutes watching strangers eat.

Isn't it amazing how one person can seemingly take up an entire sidewalk when you are rushing to get somewhere?

I can have the shittiest day ever and somehow a 20 minute walk with my pup can make me feel so much better. Thanks dogs you guys are awesome.

I woke up this morning with the worst calf cramp I've had in a really long time and my brain kept trying to make me just fall right back asleep instead of doing something about the cramp. Stupid brain.

I don't think I could hate anything more than rich celebrities that are stupid assholes that don't deserve one cent of the money they have. You get one chance to be a decent person, when you fuck up you get your money taken away and given to those who need it. ONE chance.

These are the things I'd like to have within walking distance to me and it's never going to happen. Good pizza, Dairy Queen, Pet Food Express, Target, and a great homey bar.

I just remembered that I put something in the washer like 8 days ago and haven't put it in the dryer yet...dammit!

Why do eggs make me sick all the sudden? Maybe I never even liked eggs.

If I was on a deserted island and could only have 3 things I would pick Mike, my dog and peanut butter. Not very helpful I know but at least I would be happy.

I wonder sometimes if I am really really crazy and everyone I meet is just humoring me?

I think I'd have an easier time killing a person than an animal. I'm not saying I'd like to do either I just think I'd feel worse about one of them.

Baby hippos are adorable.

Ahh Thursday...

Since this is like the first consecutive bloggie I've written I figure I should tie in yesterday's with a little side note so you 3 people that read this know I am consistent. I didn't see a stingray yesterday although I did sorta get a headache from staring at water for 20 minutes. Bummer all around.

Aaaaanywhom, Did you ever think that you should have lived in another decade? I think about that all the time. A couple weekends ago we saw Public Enemies with Johnny Depp. Well, it was starring Johnny Depp, I didn't go see it with him. Although it would have made for a much more interesting bloggie. I really want to live in the late 20's early 30's. Granted, I am basing this wholly on the History Channel, books and movies, but just feel very connected to times that are not the present. I love the aesthetic of the 20's thru the 50's. It's something that has always been with me I think. I remember watching movies like Roger Rabbit (super stylized late 40's) or even Indiana Jones (WWII times) and thinking about the dress and language - just a feeling that things were different. It seemed like everything had more character. Obviously I enjoy the freedoms that I have today and I have no doubt that it was some tough living during the first 50 years of the 1900's. I know I could end up being some subservient little wife to a guy that treats me like a slave and I would probably just have to take it. BUT I could also have been one of those ladies that bucked the system. I could have been an Emelia Earhart or Eleanor Roosevelt. Hell I could have been a criminal(waaaay more likely)like Bonnie Parker. I mean look at this pic of her:That chick knew what she wanted out of life...and it was a good car and good man and someone else's money. I can totally get behind that!

I'd just like to see what it was like to live in a time where everything took a little more effort and you had to pay attention to the little things. Where daily struggles actually made you stronger and more inventive. Sure, maybe you only lived to be 38 but think of all the fun you had during those 38 years. I think I'll try to take that mentality and shove it into today's time. I'll just pretend like it's 1934 or 1947. So don't be alarmed if you see me running around with hair that took me 4 hours to do with a bag of money screaming "I'll fill you full of daylight you dirty copper! I'll fit you for a Chicago overcoat, I own this apple!"

"All my life I wanted to be a bank robber. Carry a gun and wear a mask. Now that it's happened I guess I'm just about the best bank robber they ever had. And I sure am happy."
John Dillinger

You shred it, wheat.

Fine...don't care about cool stuff..jerks

Anyone who reads this bloggie knows that I am no stranger to being pissed off. Especially at the residents of this glorious town I reside in. (BTW, I'm not going to apologize for not writing for a month like I usually feel compelled to do. I was busy...fuck off) Yesterday evening I was walking Pocky and feeling pretty good. I'd had a workday crammed FULL of bullshit and turmoil but it was really nice out and seeing Pox so happy at just walking with me always makes me feel better. We went to the park and saw the small dog clique that both she and I feel uncomfortable with because we both know that she is waaaaay cooler than those stuck up puffy bitches. I've heard that Einstein thought the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. I must be insane then cause for some reason every time I approach this group I expect to have a different conversation and I always end up walking away slowly shaking my head. It always goes down like this :

The gaggle of rich SF ladies with strollers for their dogs: ooooooooh what a cute chihuahua!
Me: thanks, but actually she's a pug miniature pinscher mix.
The gaggle: (now somehow already pissed at me) oh....she looks like a chihuahua
Me: yeah, I guess
The gaggle: what's her name?
Me: Apocalypse Momo Von Doom. Pocky for short
The gaggle: Pokey?
Me: Pocky..like hockey with a P.
Meanwhile during this conversation, out of the corner of my eye I see their dead eyed dogs rolling around in each other's shit, neurotically trying to get the necklaces, bracelets, barrettes, and little coats off before they lose that last smidge of dog credibility they once might have had.
The gaggle: well my little missy princess here is a pomeranian bichon mix.
Me: (trying to stifle the chuckles)coooOOOooool, she looks....puffy.

By now I have remembered that this is always how these conversations go and we start to quickly walk towards the edge of the park. Last night I bid The gaggle adieu a little too late and they ended up being right behind me. I always stop and look out over the channel when we are on the bridge because I am from Illinois and a water creature freak so the prospect of seeing a sea lion or even a saltwater fish is always on my mind. Last night we were looking out and Pocky chuffed at something the exact same moment I saw a weird swirly happening on the surface of the water. I looked closer and saw a stingray gliding near the surface about to go under the bridge. I lost my shit and turned to the nearest person while pointing and screaming "lookit...there's a fucking stingray right there!" The gaggle looked at me like I had just said "lookit....there's fucking water right there!" and walked past. I tried to take a picture but only had my stupid phone and in my struggle to hold on to Pox and not drop my phone in the water I wasn't able to catch anything but green. I was super pumped but bummed that nobody else thought it was cool. Then I realized that I should be happy that I thought it was cool and if those vapid whores didn't care about it, it was their loss. Maybe if it was wearing some bling and was named Sissy they would have cared.

BLAM!

I didn't know what to put for the subject line today so I decided to just type the first thing that popped into my head and that happened to be BLAM! So there you go. Maybe it's cause I sometimes want to make people explode with my mind...ok...all the time. There was an episode of Penn and Teller's Bullshit once that said how the world would be a much better place if every woman had a gun. A pink gun I believe, to make it sexier. I think the world would be a much better place if I were able to explode people with my mind. I can't promise I would only use the power for good but I can promise I would def. explode bad people first. The only catch would be keeping it a secret. I couldn't let people know of my powers cause then the government would steal me and make me do their bidding until I broke out or died. I've seen enough movies to know that is a given. I hope that my powers would include an option to just blow up a hand or an eyeball too. So I could use that when people were crappy but not crappy enough to warrant death.

I wonder if I would get more tolerant of people or less. I suppose I could go the tempting route and just blow everyone up that bugs me. The other day I went to the boutique pet store to get cheese treats for Pocky and there were some girls in there that were waiting to get their stupid puff ass dog back from getting groomed. And the leader girl would not get out of my fucking way. She was sitting on the table in front of the counter talking on her phone so I had to reach over and around her to pay and shit. The entire time this was going on she was staring at me with a mix of vacancy and conceit that only the few chosen girls posses. You know that look of stupidity and hate but sorta deep down she secretly wants to be me cause I am not a raging cunt bag? Their eyes tell stories my friends. The lady who owns that shop was apologetic I could tell but in this economy who can afford to piss off rich chicks that like to spend money on dog nail polish? So I made my purchase and headed for the door not saying a thing. On my way out tho one of the other girls in the store sensed that the whole thing was ridiculous sorta apologized and the way I saw it I had 3 choices:
1. tell her it's ok cause luckily for them I deal with dumb bitches all day long
2. just smile back and say nothing
3. tell her that she can break out of this bullshit, leave these bitches behind, take off the leggings and live a better and much more fulfilling life.

I chose 2 cause I was trying to be the bigger person. But now let's say I could blow people up with my mind?! How would that have gone down? Would I have exploded the leader and hoped that a new one didn't step up into place? Would I have exploded all of them because of the choices they had made? Would I have exploded the dog cause it was annoying and inbred and better off dead than in a Burberry sweater? The more I think about it the more I realize that I probably wouldn't have exploded any of them. I don't think I could. I can't see justifying murder of some dumb bitch in the same category as say...Kim Jong-Il. Once I started on those type of annoyances where would it stop? Would I end up killing the guy at Safeway who has 20 items in the 15 items or less line? What if he was the Dr. that found the cure for cancer. What if I leave him alive and he finds the cure but charges a ridiculous amount of money so that no one can afford it and people still die? And before you know it the person behind me is kicking the back of my heels waiting for me to stop staring at the guy in front of me and put my shit on the counter. Then I'd become a douchebag to that person and then maybe I would have to blow myself up.

Or at very least a toe.

What in the sam HELL is going on here?!

So, as you dear readers may or may not know I live, work, breathe, laugh, cry (you get the picture) in the great burg of San Francisco. I know we've had our ups and downs, this fair city and I, but mostly I like it. I like that is pretty progressive and fairly enlightened. I like that it's surrounded by ocean and bay and trees and mountains. I like that it's 7 square miles from end to end both ways so in order to get ANYWHERE in the city it takes less than 20 minutes.

One thing that I have a problem with however is the zoo. We went fairly soon after we arrived in San Francisco and I have to say I was really unimpressed. The parking situation was ridiculous and it's so far away that it makes taking public a little difficult. It was super expensive and I'll pay good money if the zoo's worth it. I know it costs a lot to run a zoo - I've played my share of Zoo Tycoon. The habitats were pretty shabby. The animals looked bored and I'm pretty sure one of the walruses was dead.

So, then a couple Christmases ago I'm watching the news and they have a story about a tiger attack at the SF Zoo. See, I thought to myself, those animals are bored and mad and now some zoo keeper just got the worst of it. But then I found out that is was in fact some 19 year old kid and he buddies from San Jose that had been at the zoo...after hours...on Christmas night. I followed the story and the blame game that went on between the families and the zoo and even the public. It came out that the walls around the enclosure were 4 feet lower than the standard and there was some mishandling that occurred once officials learned that the tiger had escaped. There was no substantial proof that they were taunting the 350 siberian tiger before it jumped over a mote and a wall just to attack these guys, but let's be real here, we've all seen those a-holes at the zoo or Sea World or anywhere else humans and animals come together. We've all seen those people that bang on the glass, scream and yell things at the animals, further proving to all around just who should be locked in a cage. I don't believe for a second that these guys were just standing there quietly singing "Silent Night" when the tiger jumped out and made it her mission to destroy them.

I was also pissed off when following the story further I found out the the 4 cops that responded to the scene ALL emptied every bullet of their guns into the tiger after they distracted it coming out of the bushes. That's the best we could do under the circumstances? Shoot the tiger with your guns 24 times? That oughta do it boys, you think? By the way, those cops ended up getting medals for their bravery shortly after. I think we are way too fast to judge these animals after something like this happens. Maybe it's because I think it is 99.99999% always the humans fault for stuff like this (because we are supposed to be the smarter ones) but I don't think animals have to be destroyed when they do what comes natural to them. Usually when I say things like this people immediately say that I can say such things because it didn't happen to me. But I am telling you right now that if I was standing next to a bear shouting at it and throwing stuff at it and that bear knocked my goddamn head off, I would in no way expect anything to be done to the bear. Some say there is a reasonable expectation for safety when going to places like the zoo but I say fuck that. You paid your money to enter a place with confined animals. They get out, it's all creatures for themselves I say. Myself and those I care for included. Besides they were there after the zoo had already closed anyway. They were technically trespassing.

You may be thinking to yourself "what is the point of this bloggie you crazy animal activist you?" The tiger is dead. The kid is dead. The cops have been given medals and the other guys he was with have already been arrested like 8 times since then for being drunk and sending the San Jose cops on a 140 m.p.h. chase thru the city, clearly they are on the right path to early death or incarceration. Well I'll tell you! I had just let it go. Just forgotten all about the tiger attack when I casually went to sfgate.com to get my daily dose of San Franciscoy news and I saw it.

The San Francisco Zoo agreed Thursday to pay $900,000 to two brothers who survived the fatal attack by an escaped tiger on Christmas Day 2007, sources familiar with the case told The Chronicle

GodDAMMIT! I hate this city sometimes.

Well it's friday

and that means here are the things that are bugging me.

People taking their (non service) dogs into restaurants, stores, malls, Safeways, coffee shops...yes I love my dog too but she's still a dog. All that happens when you take your dog into a crowded place is they get stepped on, kicked, tripped over and otherwise hurt. Leave them home!

People voting stupidly on state budget measures to "stick it to the government" you're not hurting that politician that will ALWAYS make 200K a year - you are hurting public services...and it's all fun and games until YOU need help.

Those damn Harry Potter books are good! It's the movies that suck!

Being made fun of for wanting to see Night at the Museum 2. I'm sorry-it looks funny and has like 27 hilarious people in it plus, the first one was good. Fuck you...jerk.

Having shows like "My Name is Earl" get canceled while "The Cleavland Show" gets a second season before the first season airs.

Being labeled as jealous because I hate someone. No, that person just happens to be a useless human being.

Reading articles in magazines and newspapers about how it's not all a bad thing when you lose your job. "Use the time to find yourself" Sure, if you are independently wealthy. Don't mock people that are out of work by saying they should find a new hobby. Here's a good hobby...how about trying to keep a roof over my head?

Not being a mutant, witch, elf or other magical creature. I'm sorta done with just being a regular human.

When people are fake scared of stupid things. Sure, I have irrational fears of things too... spiders, drowning, and falling off high things to my death-scary things. I'm talking when people are plastered in horror to the wall of the elevator because my 11 pound dog that looks like this:
is in the elevator with them. Or people that will break their necks to make sure a pigeon doesn't land within 40 feet in any direction of them. Man up you infants! It's not like it's a clown or anything...now that shit is scary.

Who Knew

I went to the library right across the street from my house (and a few blocks down from my job) today on my lunch hour. I've been meaning to get a library card for awhile now but they have weird limited hours and I kept forgetting. I finally got over there today and got a library card and I have to say that I am still a little awestruck by libraries. When I was a kid I really loved visiting the library. The entire downstairs of the building was the kids section. It was like our little domain. I used to hang out there while my mom would have meetings. I remember the toys that my mom told me not to touch cause she didn't want me to get sick. I can remember every little nook and all the shelves that held my absolute favorite books. I remember where the audio books were and the player that had the best headphones, some of them pulled out your hair like a mother fucker. Hell, I even remember the smell of the place.

I haven't really thought about the library much since I've gotten older but I pass one everyday when I walk Pox and it got me thinking. Given the economy these days, the prospect of having my time taken up by something that is 100% free looked pretty damn good (also I've had tons of people bug me about reading the Harry Potter books and there is no way in hell I am going to buy those bitches) . So, I decided to go get a library card. Normally this would be the part of the bloggie where I have some terrible happenstances occur and I scream and yell and gripe about it for 3 more paragraphs but not today my friends. I walked in with the paperwork already filled out (available from the website), my license and a smile and 10 minutes later I had my card. I even got to pick which one I wanted from 6 choices! After I got my card the lady gave me the rules and the hours and told me that you can check out up to 50(!) items at one time, and overdue books are 10 cents a day. A dime a day?! That's what it was when I was little. I thought she was going to say $20 a day or something. Weird.

I got my card, wandered over to the kids section and picked up the 1st and 2nd volumes of Harry Potter. As I was looking for a backup book that I would read in case Harry Potter was as dumb as I feared I noticed how the selection had really increased since I was last in a library. There were bestsellers, and cookbooks, and books that I didn't even think had come out yet. There were tons of audobooks, DVDs and CDs. I started thinking about how something like this could survive? How could it be free? How could they still be charging 10 cents a day when you don't get your ass back to the library on time? It was incredible...and then I saw the self checkout computer. You can now scan your card, scan the books, get your receipt and be one your way without speaking to anyone. My own non social tendencies aside that is fucking awesome. I don't understand how it works but I am happy libraries are still around. Go visit your library today. Reading is FUN.

Hell with Wings: The Florida Saga- Part 2

Sorry for the delay everyone...I know you were on the edge of your seats and I took my sweet ass time finishing the story. Well you might have to reread part 1 but it's WORTH it! Cause here is the stunning conclusion to the story!!

So we were sitting on the runway in what appeared to be little more than a prop plane on the runway in Talahassee Florida. The pilot had gone back to the gate to "ctrl, alt, del" us and we seemed to be ready for takeoff. After a quick flight we were in Miami. We landed outside, away from the terminals so we had to take a little bus from the planes to the actual airport. This was an unfortunate situation for more than a couple people who had about 12 minutes to make their connecting flight. We got to the actual airport and they ran-I'd like to think that they made it but since they were having the same luck as we were...I'd say probably not. The Miami airport is sorta strange. It's definitely what you might expect if you imagined an airport in Miami. Lots of scantily clad ladies, lot's of spanish being spoken, and I actually couldn't cross the street from taking Pocky outside cause a dude was salsa dancing in front of a cab. Seriously, I'm not being stereotypical. Not to mention that everywhere I turned I was greeted by a sign that said "Welcome to Miami" immediately causing Will Smith to jump into my head with his immortal "welcome to meyammi"
We had a bunch of time to kill so we decided to get something to eat which was actually really awesome. The plantains were really good. A million points for having Cuban food in an airport! So we boarded the plan for the last (hopefully) leg of the trip. We knew this one was going to be painful since a non-stop from Meyammi to San Francisco is pretty much the longest flight to experience in these continental United States. And we felt every minute of it. It was long, Mike had someone squishing him which in turn squished me which in turn squished Pocky down at my feet. Oddly enough this person that was squishing us happened to be watching the DVD of the movie that was also playing in the plane. Odd enough I know but the crazier thing is that this person was an adult and the movie was Bedtime Stories with Adam Sandler. Creepy huh? I thought so.

But finally, 6 hours later, crossing multiple timezones, and going 3 hours back in time we were home. At the baggage carousel I headed straight for the little room where they take care of lost luggage, since there was a better than average chance that our luggage was not on this side of the country. I go in and start to tell my tale and the dude cuts me off mid-sentence and tells me to wait until all the luggage gets off of this plane. So, I say ok and go back to the carousel. We watch every bag go round and round until there aren't any left. So, this time Mike goes into the room and a lady types some random numbers into the computer and then tells us that our luggage is on the flight coming in from Dallas...our original connection destination if you recall. I say-yeah I doubt it but ok. We move over to that spot, watch every single fucking bag go round and round and round until it stops. This time we both go into the little room and I am ready to crawl over the counter and jam them into one of the unclaimed suitcases. We start the process of starting the lost baggage claim and I just can't stop myself from saying something. It wasn't the fact that our bags were lost, it was the fact that I knew an hour previous that our bags wouldn't be there and we could have been home already.
But as my complaints fall on very very deaf ears I realize that with my lack of sleep and food consumption I probably shouldn't get too worked up since I don't really want to leave here in the back of a cop car or an ambulance. We fill out the form that tells them we have guess what?! a black suitcase with wheels on it, we pile into a cab, 20 minutes from home.
At home, as my head hits the pillow and I am just about asleep, all I can say to myself is: goddamn I hate Florida.

Thanks American Airlines pilot for saving my life...but the rest of you AAssholes can go to hell

I know I haven't written for awhile and I'd like to say it's because I hurt my hand and could only type with my left hand but that only happened like a month ago and it was better like 2 weeks ago so I really have no excuse. I just didn't feel like writing. Until....RIGHT NOW!!

The main inspiration for the surge was our trip to Florida last week. We live in California so the flight is never easy but this one was the greatest pain in the ass so far - mainly cause we all almost died. I should explain who "we" is. It's me, my husband Mike and our fabulous traveling pup: Pocky. She's been traveling with us from a month after we got her and she's awesome at it. She stays with us in the cabin in her carrier by my feet. She's awesome, she goes thru security like a champ, chills in her carrier and doesn't make a peep. And trust me when I say...she has been thru A LOT when it comes to planes. She waited in line once at the Phoenix airport for 6 hours with us in her carrier AFTER she'd already been thru a 2 hour plane ride. She's well worth the $200 (yes 200 US dollars) the airlines make us pay to jam her under the seat in front of us. But that is another bloggie entirely.

This one is about almost dying. So our flight to Tampa with a stop in Dallas was smooth as silk (shocking for us) so smooth in fact that we should have know what would await us on the back end. Fast forward a week of fun in the sun and we are packed up and ready to take off and head back home. Everything is going good and then about 45 minutes into the flight the pilot comes on and says that we are having troubles with the fuel pump and he is having us land in Tallahassee as a precaution. So I feel a little nervous but ok-not so bad so far. 15 minutes later he comes back with a decidedly different tone to his voice and says that we will be landing as soon as they can get this hunk of metal close enough to the ground. Now I'm getting nervous....cause you know I can picture the scattered plane parts in the swamp and my mom sifting thru remains trying to identify my shit. It's bad. So they get the plane on the ground and as we all can't help but notice the firetrucks and guys in shiny silver pants waiting for us to burst into flames, the pilot comes on for a last time to tell us we got on the ground with about a minute to spare before we would have been on the ground anyway but not by choice.

So we get off the plane and take a look at the Tallahassee airport. Which I would say is small but that is really an exaggeration. You can walk from one end to the other in about 12 steps. So, having been thru this many times Mike runs off the plane and gets in line. We don't know what will happen but he knows that being in line is always a good thing. We wait for a while watching the clock as the flight we were supposed catch in Dallas draws closer and closer. They aren't telling us anything and apparently they have 3 people that work in the airport but they are doing the best they can. So the chick in front of us gets on the phone and ends up finding another flight out of there and makes some round about plans to get herself home. So we do the same and end up getting a flight to Miami and then a direct flight to SFO getting us in at 10:30 PM. Ok- not so bad...it means we will have been traveling for almost 24 hours with the time change but oh well you gotta do what you gotta do to get home.
So we get on the TEENY plane from Tallahassee to Miami knowing full well that we should just kiss our luggage goodbye (since the guy wrote which bags were ours on a scrap of paper). We pull away from the gate and the pilot gets on the horn and tells us that the plane has had an electrical fail and he needs to "ctrl, alt, delete it"

Join us tomorrow for the stunning conclusion of: "Hell with Wings: The Florida Saga"

Things I hate right now

I am in a really shitty mood. I started off in a pretty good mood and over the course of the day I have gotten worse. It reminds me of that part in The Grinch when they show how he slowly became a bastard over the years. Haha...it makes me happy to think of that. But not happy enough. I cut my finger on a metal take out container (for the third time in like 2 months) and it started bleeding all over. So I put on a bandaid, and this morning the cuticle split on my thumb because it has been so dry lately so i put a bandaid on that. Now I look like some sort of Coldplay reject with bandaids all over my hand.
And now I'm all pissy cause my finger hurts.

It's days like this that I start googling "bay area kickboxing class". My stress level seems unnaturally high. I figure it's only a matter of time before I see some poor soul in ski boots and a scarf, notice that I am pretty warm, realize it is 70 degrees outside, flip out and beat the person to a bloody mess. I hope I don't actually do that someday and then this bloggie could be used as evidence. Proof that it was premeditated. Wouldn't that be sad if I got sent up (been watching "The Wire" lately) because of my own self centered need to tell people things I think they should care about? tragic.

Here is a list of the things I hate right now:

The Grammys (aka the state of music these days) Except my new love Adele. So great.

Why doesn't it storm in this area?!

Why can't anyone make a Chicago style pizza correctly left of I90?

Why did I get $1200 from the government just to have them take that same amount back in taxes?

spiders-everyday not just today

People who make fun of me when I say "pop" it's called soda POP you jerks.

The fact that I wrote this monday and tuesda but didn't finish it till today so now I'm sorta lying.

packing

dirty dishes

the fact that my head is too big to get my hair cut really short

and

whenever I try to do something cute with my hair it happens to be the windiest day on record.

ooo boy I love you so, neva neva neva gonna let you go...

Once I get my hands on yooooouuuu. I hate it when random songs get into my head and don't leave for days. Especially when I only know two lines of said song. Where do they come from? And why do I wake up with songs playing over and over in my head? I often wonder if that is the pre-cursor to insanity. Like someday the music will stop and the voices will start. Maybe they've just been on hold waiting until I finally snap. That's a nice thought. I'll make sure I tell you when they come on the line.

Speaking of snapping I had the biggest urge today while I was at work to go home and just start throwing shit out. I feel like I am all congested and I just want to take half of my stuff and get rid of it. I think I was waiting for my stint on "What Not to Wear" (which I am obsessed with and would go on and spend that 5k in 5 seconds) This way tho maybe I could be like well, Clinton, Stacy, I have already thrown out my stuff so let's get crackin'. I wonder if they tell some of the contestants to act like that or if they really are. I have NEVER cried in a store when faced with the task of spending other peoples' money. But maybe that's why I'll never be on the show. Although, I could be the show where the person doesn't freak out or argue. They could do an "easy" show where everything is happy. If they really want drama maybe I could get mad at Carmindy. I do feel like I look weird in makeup. And I hate foundation so it might work. I also don't know if I trust Nick. I LOVE my hairstylist and I think she might be sad to have him ruin what she spends so much time on. So there you go TLC! There is your drama! Let me come on your show!!!!

This was a weird bloggie yet I still feel good about it. Maybe it's the Kenny Loggins I am listening to as I write this. Yeah that's probably it...highway to the danger zone dudes.

Two Thousand and nine!?

I can't believe it is it's 2009. I can't believe it's been 9 years since I graduated high school. Hell, I can't believe it's January. Where the heck does the time fly to? I figured it would be as good a time as any to write a little bit today. It's one of my New Year's Moxies. Don't worry dear reader I shall explain. I looked up resolution on Dictionary.com cause I hate it. I hate many words and resolution certainly isn't at the top, but still, it sucks. I was looking in the synonym column and there it was. I forget how much I truly love the word "moxie" I'm pretty sure the context is all wrong and they meant it as a synonym to the other definition of resolution but as I have said time and time again (yet for the first time this year har har har) this is my bloggie and I can do with it as I wish. So from now on my resolutions are called moxies. And here they are in all of their glory. Maybe if I get them out here in the internets I can actually hold myself to them. Let's all see how that goes shall we?

Moxie numero uno:
Write everyday. I've got to get cracking on this whole dream of mine thing. Whether it's here or working on some of the other projects I've got rolling around the noggin, I will be putting pen to paper everyday. Or fingers to keys, or pencil to bark, or blood to bathroom tile...you get the idea. So be prepared to read some K-rap my friends.

Duo Moxieness:
Move back into the goddamn city. I can't handle San Mateo anymore. I'm sorry SanMat...I tried, I really did. I think if we had a car it would be better. I just can't be stuck in this 2 mile circle of crap anymore. I want to live in a city where you can get dinner past 9pm. I want to live in a city where people take their dogs out for walks and consider it a fun thing and a social event. Instead of jerking them out for 3 seconds and then jerking them back inside. I want to live in a city where people do things. Instead of doing so much nothing that the occupants drive themselves crazy, start screaming and beating each other and eventually involve the police. Domestic disputes are alive and well in San Mateo.

Moxie Trois: (which will most certainly be my French porn name if the opportunity ever presents itself)
I want to live a more relaxed life. I live a lot of worries. Some warranted, some insane, all useless thieves of my happiness and time. (aw shit gettin' deep naw) I feel like I need to move to the stage of life where you realize there are some things that just happen. And more often then not something interesting comes from it. It might suck really hard or it might be ok. So I want to try to live more in general and to live by one of my favorite quotes:

Stan, don't you know the first law of physics? Anything that's fun costs at least eight dollars.