March Movie Madness

My March list of movie recs, and one you should not bother with.

The Descendants - I found this movie to be boring and underwhelming. I have no clue what everyone saw in this movie. The Clooney character was one I really liked, and Matthew Lillard was a nice surprise, but beyond that I found it to be a snoozefest. You can tell me why I'm wrong in the comments, but I'll just laugh at you because opinions can't be wrong, they can just be different.

Detachment - Two words: Adrien Brody. The man can almost do no wrong. A film by the fella who brought you American History X, about a substitute teacher in a low income school. My only fault with this movie is that there wasn't one parent to feel good about. All the parents in this movie were jackholes. I know that was on purpose, but for realism's sake I would think he could've thrown in one parent who cared about their kid.

Gigantic - Cute and quirky, and I didn't want to wring Zooey Deschanel's neck in it. I know everyone loves her, but I do not. She always just plays herself. She does have a mighty cute wardrobe, but I can take her or leave her. The movie though, was enjoyable.

The Skin I Live In - Twisted, and amazing. In Spanish with subtitles. Very strange story and I really enjoyed it.

The Baby - You didn't think I'd pass up throwing in a '70s B horror movie did you? Loved this one. Totally campy, and more funny than scary.

Mr. Death - Documentary about a total kook who says his "findings" disprove that Jews were gassed at Auschwitz during the holocaust. Prepare to be angered by his ignorance, while fascinated with how absolutely strange this man is. Oh, and you're going to want to brush his teeth. He talks about drinking like 50 cups of coffee a day and smoking 3 packs of cigarettes. You can almost smell his bad breath through the tv.

If A Tree Falls - One of the best documentaries I've ever seen. A good glimpse at the works of the Earth Liberation Front. You see the folks as humans and understand why they do what they do, then quickly switch gears as they talk about buildings they have "blown up on accident." I don't believe in violent actions like these folks push, but I can empathize.

Blank City - Fantastic documentary about the DIY film scene of the '70s. You will recognize some of the filmmakers. Also ties in the punk, and art scene of the time. I highly recommend.

Well, that's all I've got for now folks. Hope everyone has a lovely weekend. I'm headed up to the hills for my second weekend in a row of no internets. Yay cutting the tether!

Happy photo of the day: This makes me laugh. Then I don't look at it for a while. Then I look at it again, and it makes me laugh.

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Road Rage

I gots it!

Well, in truth I have a terrible temper, period, but I've been able in the past few years to meditate and keep it under control. I don't lose my shit like I used to. Until I'm behind the wheel of a car that is. Driving is the one place where I will yell like a mad woman and curse people's names, wishing them great bodily harm. My passengers are alarmed that I'm a car yeller. I only honk when it's to avoid an accident or if someone cuts me off badly and I need them to realize, "Hey, you almost hit someone 'cause you weren't paying attention." I like to scream and cuss at the people who don't drive perfectly, like I do.

If someone pulls out in front of me and I can tell it was an accident and they make that, "Oh man, I'm so sorry" face, I'm good. Stuff happens. I have been known to stop at a light completely blocking a parking lot exit only to look right and mouth, "I'm a crappy human, sorry." But if someone is texting, or just driving like an ass, I seriously get the urge to run them off the road. One time a guy sped past me on the freeway in the rain and I actually thought, "I hope that fucker flips his car, but no one else is hurt in the accident but him. And I hope he's not maimed. I just want him to be scared enough that maybe it teaches him a lesson." Even my evil thoughts about others, have a conscience somewhat.

When I was 17 I was driving behind a Corvette. I was in my beater '69 bug with one primer fender. He was going 60 in the fast lane. I edged up close to him to let him know to move over, but by no means hopped on his back bumper. Dude slowed down to 50. Now I was angry. I sped up and ran in to him...on purpose. We slowed down and pulled to the right shoulder of I-5 and he got out of his car all angry-like. I was smiling. I had my insurance info and my license in my hand. He yelled something like, "What the hell is wrong with you?" I said, "I have good insurance. All you needed to do was pull over and get out of my way. Now you have to take your plastic mid-life crisis mobile in to the shop and have it glued back together with ticky tack or whatever they do with fiberglass these days." His face dropped. He was in complete shock. He had lost his attitude very quickly. Now, I know today that it is not my job to teach anyone a lesson, and I could've hurt someone. But I'm not going to lie: in that moment I kind of felt like a superhero. Saving the world from rich douchery, one balding dude at a time!

Another time a lady was riding my ass, on an off ramp, on the way to a red light at the bottom of said off ramp. I don't understand why someone is in such a hurry to get to a red light, that they'd like me to speed up, on my way to stopping. I was doing that oh so weird behavior of you know, slowing down, on my way to a stop light. Well, I got upset so I slammed on my brakes so hard the car skidded. I looked in my rearview mirror and the look of terror on that lady's face, as she struggled not to run in to me was PRICELESS. I'm pretty sure she never rode anyone's ass on the way to a stop light again. I put my hand up and gave her a "Howdy do!" wave. I was an ass. These are not proud moments now, but at the time, I was proud as hell.

Fast forward to today. I don't drive like someone with a point to prove when someone does something lame anymore. I do get really angry at texting drivers. You could kill someone. But I just yell or do a hand gesture like, "Put your fucking phone down jackass!" and carry on.

There are two instances in the past year or so, where I lost it on someone. One was a guy in a flatbed truck in a parking lot. We were both turning left. He was in the outside lane to turn left, and hit my car. He scraped down the side of my car. I jumped out and ran up to his window. The bastard was texting and had no idea he had hit me. I grabbed his phone out of his hand, and threw it in to the middle of the road while yelling, "You are driving a huge vehicle. You could KILL someone. Write a message next time you're at a stoplight if you have to text and drive for Chrissakes!" Then I got back in my car and drove off. The other was yesterday. I was driving home and this woman was barely stopping at stop signs, and almost hit a car going out of turn at one stop sign. She would rev up between blocks and end up right next to me almost every time. At the street I had to turn right on to get on the freeway, we were both at a red light. I motioned for her to roll down her window like I had a question to ask. I said, "Congratulations! You almost hurt like 5 people in that last stretch of road, so you could beat everyone to a red light. You win the thoughtless jackass of the day award!" and you know what? I don't regret it.

Most of the time when I am negative or rude I am overcome with guilt. I feel horrible that I allowed my behavior to worsen due to the actions of others. But sometimes, mostly behind the wheel, I feel vindicated in my right to let someone else know that they need to stop being such a jerk. Logically I know it's not my job, but sometimes I make it my hobby. I need to get some better hobbies.

Happy picture of the day: my living room. I spend a ton of time in this room, and I love it very much. I also get a strange sense of pride in that I furnished my home so cute, on the cheap.

Your Face Will Betray You

I am a people watcher. I watch folks' interactions, their body language, and their facial expressions. Interpersonal interaction and human behavior has always fascinated me. I have always been one to say things like, "Ooohh, that right there is a first date that is NOT going well" or "That guy doesn't like himself at all. Steer clear." I'm good at recognizing it when I'm removed. However, when I'm involved in that personal interaction, I kind of suck at it, and I know why. It's because I ignore all of the signs that I notice for others, when it comes to looking out for myself, to an extent. I've come a long way but there's still a small sick part of me that doesn't think I deserve to be treated well. I seek out unhealthy relationships sometimes. Not lately, but sometimes I get a glimpse of it and it scares me.

No matter how good you think you are at being dishonest, someone like me can always tell by your body language, but mostly by your facial expressions, when you are being insincere. I can talk with someone and within a half hour I can tell you way too much about them. I can read people like a book. And sometimes, I don't like it. Sometimes when Rich is telling a little white lie like, "I was going to call you to wish you a happy sobriety birthday later," I wish I didn't know he was lying. I sometimes call people on it and say, "Please don't lie. Just say you forgot, apologize, and let's move on." But often times I find myself just letting it go. Letting the person think they've gotten away with something; that they've fooled me. Because sometimes, just sometimes, it's okay to not let someone know you're on to them, so that they can be comfortable in a situation.

When I was researching this topic I came across this, and I think it is brilliant: Face Time With Sharon. It's a whole blog of this woman making different faces and talking about them. I haven't even scratched the surface, but I am mighty impressed. What a great idea!

I for one don't care if my face "betrays" me because I am an honest person with nothing to hide. If you say something and I make a fooch face (thank you Marcella for letting me steal this awesome term) it is because I don't agree with what you are saying. And I don't care if you know I am disagreeing with what you are saying. I have an EXTREMELY expressive face. My eyebrows raise and lower independently of one another and I can make some really strange expressions. I like this about myself. I am okay with my face twisting in to a, "Oooh, did you really just say that out loud?" face. I am okay with making a disapproving look while you are talking about the umpteenth time you have yelled at your boyfriend. I have no problem with people knowing how I really feel about something. But most people do. To those people I just have to say, "Dude, you're not fooling anyone. Just be yourself. Tell the truth and when you have to lie to save someone's feelings, do so with grace and dignity." There is no one on earth that would rather hear, "Oh, I was going to do _________ after I ________" than, "Oh shit I totally forgot. I'm sorry. What was it you needed me to do again?"

I leave you with a song I haven't been able to get out of my head lately, and a picture of me making a, "I am scared you just said that out loud" face. It ain't pretty, but it is amusing.(Look at the eyebrow! How does it even get up that high?)
Murdery City Devils - 18 Wheels

It's Not Personal

At my interview for this job I was told in not so many words, "Your job is going to be being the bitch about getting things done by deadline." I smiled and said, "I'm your bitch." I obviously got the job.

What I do all day is absolutely perfect for the way my brain works. I edit school board items, check to make sure all paperwork is included for contract requests, crunch budget numbers, and the like. To most, this would seem like a nightmare. I have a very detail-oriented brain, so it works for me. I'm sure you can't tell from the blog, since I could care less about grammar in this forum, but I am really good at editing and catching errors. The main part of my job, however, is reminding people when things are due, when they're past due, when they're due tomorrow, etc.

As you have probably already ascertained, I'm a to the point kind of lady. My work emails are short and do not beat around the bush. I will send notes like, "All items were due to the Chief Deputy noon yesterday, and I'm noticing you still have a few outstanding. Please send a status update. Thank you." Now, I don't think that's a rude or unkind message. If anything, it's leaning toward the kinder side as I could just write something like, "I have received all items from Division except yours. Please turn in ASAP." But I don't. Because I am a positive peach don't you know?

I work in a bureaucracy where things have to be just so. Not only do they have to be just so, but this month on someone's whim they have to be THIS just so. Then next month someone decides, "Nah, I'd like it just so but in THAT way instead." You just go with the flow. I understand working for a state agency I just have to say, "Oh, so and so wants it this way now? Will do." That's life in cubieland. There are certain forms that have to be printed on goldenrod (that color name ALWAYS makes me laugh), some on yellow, and some on pink. I don't care how many signatures you got. If something comes on the wrong color, then you're getting it back to be fixed. If your numbers don't mesh, you're getting an item back. If you put a period at the end of every item on a bulleted list where you used sentence fragments, you guessed it folks...

This has nothing to do with me smirking and thinking it's funny to hold up someone's item. I don't care if you and I eat lunch together. I don't care if your daughter is my best friend. I care that things are done properly. That is my job. My job is to be the rule enforcer. The amusement is not lost on me that I'm a total rule breaker in life, yet my job is to make sure you follow strict structures. I also don't care who is talking about how big of an asshole I am. I will always do my job, the way I am supposed to do my job, as long as I'm earning a paycheck, to DO MY JOB.

Last week a woman came up and said, "Well, my managers are going to want to know why we now have to do this, this way." I said, "You tell them, 'Because that's the way _____ (my boss) wants it.' If they give you grief after that and you don't want to be the bad guy, you send them up to my desk and I'll handle it for you." Because what I will say is, "If you want this Freeze Exemption to go through, this is how you do it. If you want to prove how you are right somehow, go ahead and be awesome. Be so awesome that someone misses a conference they needed to attend, so that you could be right and awesome. That works out for everyone involved." I can generally stay kind, but when people push me, my sarcasm and snark come out, and I'm okay with that.

Today I sent something back and explained why in an email. The lady didn't believe me so she called over my head and said, "I did it this way, and it was returned." She was told, "That's because you did it wrong." And believe me, sometimes I'll return something and since I've only been here 11 months, I'm wrong. When that happens I apologize and chalk it up to a learning experience.

The other day someone was so rude I said, "Well, I guess what I don't understand is how you've been here 15 years, and I've been here less than one, and I am having to explain how you are to do this thing, that you did exactly the same way, last year." All she needed to do was use last year's template, and fill in some new travel information, and get it to me within a week. She acted like I was asking her to build a computer using a paper clip and some chewing gum. Why do people make things more difficult than they need to be?

And yes, the job sometimes turns me in to a condescending jerk. When I have to tell you something five times, the sixth time I may do fake sign language near my head, or talk RIDICULOUSLY slow, to show you that I am now annoyed with you. I am a prick sometimes. I know this about myself. And no, I am not saying it is anyone's fault I become a prick. I am just saying that some people are mighty helpful making me in to my least favorite self.

I love my job. I am working in education which is exactly where I wanted to be. I make enough money to afford to live the way I want to...almost. There are a lot of women who have been here many more years, who are not in the elevated position that I am in, who are rude to me because of that. I say, if you do your job in an extraordinary fashion, and don't say, "That's not my job" when you're asked to do stuff, you would be well ahead of me in the game by now. I am here because I earned every promotion I have received. When you get something back from me, it's not personal. I'm just doing what I'm paid to do.

I also tend to smile, laugh, and not take anything here too seriously. Some mistake that for me not taking my job seriously, and that's ok. You do what you have to do to make life in a cubicle worthwhile. Like catapulting half pieces of gum over a wall with a paper clip catapult your friend made you.

That is a working catapult made out of paper clips and a rubber band, and yes, it works. I'm thinking next time someone asks me a stupid question, I may hand it to them and say, "Here, build a computer out of this instead."

On a completely unrelated note: everyone should check out today's Google Doodle. It's one of my favorite architects of all time. Today's Google Doodle. He also designed a bunch of amazing furniture I'll never be able to afford. He's most known for this chair: Barcelona Chair.

Weekend Getaway

This weekend was amazing. After work Friday evening Rich and I went to dinner at one of my favorite bar and grills in town, then headed down to Santa Cruz. We arrived just as they were cutting in to a cheesecake for my cousin's birthday. I am blessed to have a family friend, who in reality IS a part of the family, who owns a beautiful home in Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz happens to be one of my favorite places in the world. The lady of the house is a retired dietitian and masseuse, who is fighting to have GMO's labeled in the stores. Her hubby is a retired heart surgeon who works with doctors without borders. Their home is a stunning six bedroom, four and a half bath, 4700 square foot monster built in to the side of the Santa Cruz mountains. We hugged, laughed, ate great food, visited with some of my favorite animal friends, played air hockey and Tetris at the Boardwalk (both of which I won thanks), went out to eat at a beautiful restaurant, and pretty much did everything you would want to do to have an awesome weekend. Here are some pictures.



This is Spencer. He is the old fella of the house.

This is my favorite doggy, Daisy. She's half pit bull, half dalmation. See how she's posing? That's no accident.

This is Chief. He is the youngest, but most certainly the alpha dog.

This is Princess. AKA cat that looks like Hitler. AKA Kitler.

This is crooked kitty. As with all of the others, she is a rescue animal. But she's special 'cause she was saved from being put down. She was lost from her mommy at such a young age that she didn't get enough milk and her bones formed wrong. She walks crooked and if you pet her, you can feel a very crooked spine.

This is the view from the deck. The weather didn't allow for as great a view as you usually get, which goes clear to the ocean.

I put this in my cousin's bed so when she and her boyfriend came back from his football game, they would freak out. My cousin totally fell for it and actually scolded crooked kitty while saying, "It's so shiny! It almost looks fake." When she realized it WAS fake she apologized to crooked kitty and we all got a good laugh out of it.

This is the bathtub that I want in my house. But it kind of wouldn't be the same, as my view would be nowhere near this awesome.

Another view from the deck. This is why once I get here, I never want to leave.

This is the restaurant we went to Saturday night for dinner. That's a little cable car that takes you down to the restaurant.

I screen captured this, as it was the exit we had to take getting back to the house, from the restaurant. It made me giggle.

 Here is the place I stopped on the way home Sunday, because they have the best falafel in the world.

I spied a two foot tall peppermill on the counter of the house and said, "I need that!" Earline said they had seven peppermills or so, and I could have it. I can not WAIT until the first person at my house asks for pepper, and I bust this thing out. It is RIDICULOUS.

All in all it was a lovely weekend filled with relaxing, laughter, good friends, and great food. I feel extremely spoiled to get to do things like this. Next weekend, it's my folks' house up in Twain Harte with my best friend. I feel like a lady of leisure!

Compliment Freely

In the past year, I have made a habit of complimenting people way more often. I don't search out, or make up things to compliment people on. But if I like someone's shoes or scarf, or think they look exceptionally dashing, I think it's my obligation to let that be known. Even if someone doesn't take a compliment well, everyone appreciates a compliment.

Something we could all learn to do is take a compliment more graciously. If someone compliments you, the proper response is, "Aww thanks" or something similar. NOTHING is uglier than someone responding to a compliment, by putting themselves down or negating said compliment. You know how I know this? I used to be the biggest culprit of responding to a compliment with a negative comment. No more. If someone says, "You look really pretty today," even if you want to say, "Oh god, my hair is a mess" instead say, "Thanks. You just made my day." This is one of the few situations where I encourage a "fake it 'til you make it" mentality. You respond positively to enough compliments, and eventually the negative thoughts on the compliment lessen. Perhaps someday they even disappear. Fancy that!

There is a woman at work who always walks with her eyes focused on the floor. One day she finally looked up and I saw her face, and she is absolutely adorable. So I said to her, "You should walk with your head up more often. You're far too pretty to hide your face. I wish I looked as pretty and fresh-faced as you without make-up." She got a huge grin on her face but said nothing. Then walking home from work I happened to pass her on the street and she had her head up. She said, "I didn't say thank you the other day when you complimented me. I'm an ass. Thanks." Then we went about our business.

Any time I see a sweater or a scarf I like I say something like, "Ooohhh, I love that!" Sometimes my reaction is so visceral it scares people, and it takes every bone in my body not to reach out and touch their scarf/sweater. I don't touch strangers, but some items of clothing are yelling out, "Hey, I'm soft. Check me out!"

Don't get me started on shoes. I have a shoe problem. Big time. I recently gave away about 40 pairs, and I still have a shoe bureau, three underbed boxes, and my high heels in the closet kept in their original boxes. If I see a great pair of shoes I ask, "Who makes those, and where did you get them?" Love shoes.

But what I really try and compliment on is a personality trait. I try and let people know, "You are a saint. I couldn't do what you are doing." or "Dude, you are the funniest person ever." Because those are the things that REALLY matter. I try to thank people if they are doing something extraordinary, or out of their way. I try to make sure they know at least one person appreciates it. On the way home the other day there was a lady planting in a little planter box on her street. I said, "I really appreciate that you do that. It makes the block so much prettier. I just think you need to know that some of us notice." She got a huge smile on her face.

Today one of our old directors is in jeans and a plaid flannel. I walked by and said, "Aww, you look like my dad today." It made me want to call my dad just to say, "I love you dad." The director said, "I will take that as a compliment." I said, "You should. My dad is pretty much as amazing as they come."

I think we should start a revolution of compliments. Make it a point to actually verbalize, "Wow, that girl looks great in that dress" instead of just thinking of it. You'll be shocked what a difference it can make. It's kind of a pass it on smile. Positivity and awesome are infectious. Let's make everyone catch it.

Happy picture of the day: I need all these rings! Every one of them. Someone should start a ring fund for me. And they're only 12-20 bucks! Damn Japanese people make everything cute. And umm yeah, that's a tiny spork on there. THAT'S A SPORK I SAY!

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Shame

Shame is a double-edged sword. Shame is something that is a natural reaction we should have when we do something bad, so that our brain tells us, "This isn't a good feeling. You probably shouldn't do this again." But shame is also used to condition people. Shame is a tool used to "keep people in line" and in that respect, shame is very dangerous indeed.

Some of you saw the picture I posted of the woman sitting on the park bench the other day. After sleeping on it I was really disappointed in myself that I had stooped to my old Melanie ways of making fun of something that was not appropriate to make fun of. I apologize to everyone who had to see it, and I am ashamed that I did it. It is the only thing I've ever removed from this blog. I feel that it is one thing to make fun of someone for a choice: like a mullet, or crocs, or taking a phone in to the restroom. It is entirely different to make fun of someone for a life consequence. I am working on it, but I am human.

I try and not be ashamed of much. I try and celebrate both my strengths and my flaws. The flaws that I am working on and was born with. But I also strive to make life choices where those flaws are not the things which define me. I don't want to be known as "that lady who has no boundaries." I don't strive to be the female Daniel Tosh. Not that that guy isn't hilarious, he is. I just would never want to be that way. I want to live more compassionately. I'm learning that compassion may not be something that comes naturally to me. I'm also learning that when something sets me off or I'm feeling bad about me, is when I'm lashing out to make fun of something I shouldn't be. It's weak and it's fear-based, and I don't like it. I know I'm too hard on myself, but I would've obsessed over that picture for weeks had I not pulled it down, so I did what I had to do.

Often times I see people shaming others in to certain behaviors. Talking about being fat as a way to shame their children/friends in to not eating something. Talking about going to hell as a way to shame people in to acting a certain way. Talking about gender roles as a way to shame someone from acting outside the norm. More than any other society, ours has ways of shaming people in to falling in line and becoming one of the sheeple. It's a hard thing to resist, and it makes me worried for the future. I don't see it getting better. I see it getting worse.

I realize that no matter how much I grow, I am still ashamed of SO MANY things. I am ashamed of my obsessive compulsive behaviors. It may seem like I'm not because I talk and write about them so often, but I am ashamed. There is a sick part of me that thinks if I were good enough, or smart enough, I could defeat them. That if I just worked harder I wouldn't have to sweep my kitchen three times a day. That if I just thought harder I wouldn't have to sneak a weigh in, in mid month, when I am trying to only weigh myself once a month. That if I was a better person, gaining 3 pounds wouldn't send me to the ground in a crying heap of human, because no matter how much I say "focus on health not weight" I still have a magical number in my head that if I get beyond, crushes me down to my core.

There still is, and will always be, that tormented and unhealthy side of me that will never think I'm good enough, or smart enough, or pretty enough. There is the part of me that knows I write this blog selfishly as a way to purge, but also hopes that it will help someone or make someone smile, or let them know they aren't alone. But then there's the part of me that thinks, "Why would anyone want to read THIS?" I am still shocked every single day when I see how many people read this (looking at stats a gazillion times a day obsessively - check!). I am astounded that anyone other than my friends comments and can relate. I like the blog community, but it also causes me a lot of anxiety. So thanks to all of you who come by here every day to read my ramblings. You truly are appreciated.

Happy picture of the day: requires no explanation. And if this picture doesn't make you smile you may not have a soul. I am madly in love with it.

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Random Shite

My brain is all over the place today, so in an effort to make this blog a representation of who I really am, today's post will be all over the place too.

I am going to New Orleans for my birthday. It's more than six months away but I'm a total planner so I'm already checking flights and hotels, and places to eat, and things to do. So far I'm definitely doing a haunted tour, eating at Restaurant August, eating at Antoine's, and going on one of those weird huge fan boats to look at swamp creatures. Other than that, my best friend and I are just going to get there and wander. I will have a full list of things to do made up as usual, then if plans change so be it. I used to not be able to have plans change. Now I welcome it. There is something relaxing with being able to crumple up an itinerary and say, "Screw it." My mom was going to come with us, but has more anxiety than me, and decided that since she can't be sure the weather won't be really bad in October, she can't come. This bums me out but I can completely understand. I have overcome a lot of my anxieties, and my mom never will. And I love her just the way she is.

Speaking of New Orleans, have you seen those houses that Brad Pitt has been helping to build over there? That man is awesome. He goes there so often that he really knows the people who live there. In my opinion, he's doing "rich star" right. The homes started out being about $150,000 each to build, but now they've got the costs way down. Also, most of them PRODUCE more energy than they consume. You read that right. And they look all wonky and amazing. Check out the website: Make It Right. I saw him on Ellen yesterday and I was really impressed with how he doesn't just throw his money at something. He gets in there and gets his hands dirty. It's pretty great.

Why did I watch Ellen you ask? 'Cause I had heard that this girl would be performing on yesterday's show, so I dvr'ed it. She is 15, from England, and is going to blow everyone's shit out of the water. I seriously cried the first time I heard her voice. Absolutely stunning: Birdy - Skinny Love. She does really soulful covers. I especially like this one: Birdy - 1901.

For some reason I have been having dreams about what I would do if money were not an issue. I am pretty sure I'd have a house in New York, and one in Greece, and I would travel around most of the year just building stuff and donating my time to folks who need help. If I were independently wealthy, I would be able to do all the stuff I just think about doing. For now, I'll just be satisfied being independently middle class and able to do more than I ever dreamed I would, a few years back.

The moment that someone has an idea in their head that they are cool, it is pretty much the defining moment that makes them uncool.

I was thinking about all of my friends, and how righteously different we all are. I have long wondered what it is that creates the bond between us. It came to me like a bolt of lightning: everyone I know is the truest representation of their authentic self, that they can be. I realize that THAT is what creates our symbiosis. Not that everyone gets along, but everyone respects the groups that don't get along, and it works. Some of my friends are WAY nicer than me and associate with people who are very insecure, and act poorly because of it. We all have insecurities and faults, the key is in how you react and respond to them in your treatment of others.

As many of you know, I have a HUGE problem with someone coming in to a restroom and sitting in a stall right next to me, when there are 8 stalls open. Is there not some unspoken bathroom etiquette? I think there is. To top it off one lady sat right next to me, and proceeded to squeeze out a groaner. Before I could stop myself I was saying out loud, "You've got to be fucking kidding me. Jesus christ!" as I was washing my hands. I couldn't even finish peeing, I was so baffled and disgusted. I know everyone poops, but not everyone has to poop close enough to hold my hand, when there is a whole bathroom open. Second problem I have is phones in the bathroom. Seriously people, take two minutes away from your tether. You aren't going to die. Monday a lady walked in on her Blackberry, and took it in the stall with her. When she came out I said, "I'm assuming you haven't read the study that says smart phones now carry more fecal matter than toilets?" She said, "Oh my god!" I said, "I know!" and walked out.

Well, that's all I've got for today. I leave you with a happy picture of the day of Ewan McGregor. He was on Conan the other night and he is as funny, as he is handsome and talented.

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Bad Melanie!

I have a horrible, terrible, sick sense of humor, and I love it. I do things that are totally inappropriate, and sometimes waste the time of others, just to get a laugh out of it. Sometimes it's wrong and mean, and I feel bad. But most of the time I just laugh a lot.

One time I kept seeing a guy on the freeway with a "Powered by Nickelback" sticker on his car. I could never get a good look at his face. For some reason I needed to. So one time I followed him all the way to his destination (which not so ironically was Walmart). I asked him, "Is that sticker ironic, or do you really love Nickelback?" He really loved Nickelback. I didn't even laugh or crack a smile. I just kind of nodded and forget what I said back. I just always wondered how that band had fans. I am usually a very, "Whatever you like is cool" person. That doesn't go for Nickelback.

About two weeks ago on the way to lunch, I heard, "I don't need your civil waaarrhheerhoorr" blasting out of a car near us. I looked around and I saw a real life stereotype. Dude had long curly hair, a bunch of weird rings on, and was driving a 90s Camaro. I pulled out my phone and looked at my friend and said, "A picture is not enough. This requires video and sound!" The light turned green and he took off before I could document the moment, and it actually made me sad. That video would've made the day of all my friends. I literally thought, "No one will believe this if I don't get proof! It's too good!"

The other day in the store there was a "red orange" juice made by Tropicana. Since it is a blend of blood and regular oranges, I guess they couldn't call it blood orange juice. But I pretended they did it because they wanted to put a sanitized label on the juice. I called the company and acted like I was in a fit of rage that they would not put "blood orange" on their label. I went on to state how my brother and sister vampires would not be buying their product now or ever, and hung up. I figured it would give the lady who answered the phone a story to tell.

Update: I started feeling way too guilty about the mention of the lady in the park, and the picture I posted, so I needed to take it down. I don't usually do that but it just wore way too much on my sense of being a human, so I had to censor myself.

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

Oh, not by choice mind you, but because I don't sleep hardly at all. If I'm lucky I will get six hours. On these nights I feel like a champ when I wake up. I'm all kinds of energetic and ready to face the day. Otherwise I fight the whole day trying not to let my inner grump escape and infect those around me.

You see, my brain is constantly moving at the speed of light. I am trying to figure out the best way to come up with a budget based on a pay stub. I need to remember what I'm making for dinner tonight. I need to figure out if my budget will allow for me to buy a pizza this weekend. All of these things that most people think about when they happen, my brain is constantly circling trying to get everything out of the way RIGHT NOW.

I can not fall asleep unless it's in front of a television. Then I stumble in to bed and tuck myself in and sleep as long as I can. I have tried everything. Melatonin worked for about two months. Meditating no longer helps. I refuse to go on any prescription sleep meds, because some of my friends are on them and the stories they tell frighten me. Also, the last thing I need is to become dependent on another substance.

Last night I slept from 9-1, then from 4-6. That's 6 hours! Yeah, but sleeping in shifts, as I do a lot of the time, doesn't feel like six hours of sleep. It tends to feel like whatever last stretch you got, is all the sleep you got. And yes, I have also tried no naps and no caffeine. Didn't help. So I sleep whenever I can. If that means a 3 hour nap in the middle of the day on the weekend, so be it. Because not napping never insures a full night's rest, I get sleep wherever the heck I can. What's the most lovely about all this is that not sleeping, causes me anxiety about not sleeping, which then leads to even less sleeping. Awesome, right? Umm, not so much.

I really wish I could have a job where I worked full time, but on my own schedule. Having to do an 8-5 is not the best thing for everyone. I wish our society had alternate shifts available for folks like me. I am of the belief that having to live life by an alarm clock, instead of your body's natural rhythms, isn't good for you. I think if I could get up at 1 am and get some work done 'til I was tired, then go back to sleep, my life would be a happier place. Could you imagine if you never had to groggily crawl out of bed feeling totally unrested, and get ready for work? Life would be grand. So although I know that will never happen, I can still sit in wonder and dream of a life where I actually got enough sleep.

This weekend I didn't even get good sleep Friday and Saturday night, which are usually the nights I sleep better, 'cause I'm not stressed that I have to get to sleep to not be a total crankyface at work the next day. It was still a good weekend, but I can't say I'm not going to sit here all day counting the hours 'til I can be home in my pj's. I foresee an 8 pm bedtime in my future. I hella party.

Happy picture of the day: my friend's wedding cake. Her sister made it and it was accompanied by a ton of cupcakes. It made me laugh.

You Make Me Feel Like (Sock) Dancing

So when I'm blue, or sometimes not when I'm blue but I am cooking and need a dance break, I dance around my kitchen in my socks. It is seriously the only thing that I find lifts my mood when I'm home alone, dwelling on stuff in my brain that I can not realistically deal with or solve. This happens to me more often than I'd like to admit. I think I need to create a "sock dancing playlist" on my iPhone. It would consist of this stuff:

Joy Division - She's Lost Control

The Ramones - Beat on the Brat

Aretha Franklin - Eleanor Rigby

The Cure - Close To Me

The Who - Out in the Street

New York Dolls - Looking For A Kiss

Sleigh Bells - Run The Heart

The Jackson Five - The Love You Save

Little Denise - Check Me Out

The Gorillaz - Dare

The Staple Singers - I'll Take You There

Wanda Jackson - Baby Loves Him

I could go on and on. But this would make for a righteous kitchen dance party.

Happy picture of the day: my new car emblem. I swear if levels of nerddom were rewarded with matching levels of super powers I'd be able to fly, and become invisible by now.

If Yan Can Cook

You don't know who Yan Can Cook is? For shame! Yan Can Cook. He's one of the original celebrity chefs. He was really entertaining to watch, and to this day I love him. I only mention him 'cause this post is going to be about me cooking, and well, I wanted to throw dude a bone. He kind of lost his celebrity to total douchery like Rachel Ray, and I wanted to give him some love.

I find that there are two camps of women my age right now in the cooking area: those of us who cook damn near everything from scratch and buy quality ingredients, and those of us who don't really cook at all unless it's out of a box or bag (or they eat out all the time). I am of the first camp. I am lucky in that I have no children and can buy things like dry aged local rib eye, grass fed ground chuck, local organic whole fryer breasts, lamb, farmer's market veggies (we have a year round farmer's market here), and other such goodies with which to cook.

I find that the most important thing to have when you're someone who likes to cook, is a properly stocked pantry. I always have plenty of stuff on hand like star anise, saffron, cinnamon, vanilla extract, white truffle oil, no chicken stock (the boyfriend doesn't eat chicken and this is a great substitute for making soups), cumin, cardamom, various flours and honeys, poppyseeds, curry powder, and many more things. This way, you can pretty much make anything, from things you already have in the cupboard.

I tend to shop according to what looks good in the market at the time, and go from there. Sometimes I'll have random things so I'll google "plums, lamb, rosemary" to pull up recipes. I never stick to recipes but I do like to have them as a sort of outline of how to make a dish. I also just started baking because I don't measure. I eyeball everything. Precise measuring causes me anxiety, but I'm working through it. I made a beet poppyseed poundcake last week, and last night I made a delicious strawberry rhubarb pie, shown below.  A lot of times I'll just see something in the market that looks fresh and yummy, and decide I need to buy it and make something with it. I had never purchased rhubarb and when I saw some at the market I immediately went, "I'm going to make a strawberry rhubarb pie!" Sometimes I stick to a list, but mostly I just go in and buy whatever strikes my fancy at the time. This way I don't get stuck in the rut of making the same things all of the time.

My favorite things to make involve fresh jams my friends have made, and local honey. Just last night a girlfriend dropped off some lemon marmalade and honey her friend harvested. I get really excited about things like this, and am blessed to know a lot of people in the community who make these sort of things. They make them in such large batches that they don't know what to do with them, so I'm always there with a smile on my face, offering to kindly take any extras off their hands. This year I got cranberry mustard, peach vanilla glaze, strawberry jam, strawberry balsamic jam, blackberry jam, and some freezer jams I'll never use. I use these to marinate meats. You would be surprised how adding some soy, garlic, ginger, and other things to a plum jam turns it in to a magical sauce for lamb and other animal proteins. The peach works great for chicken.

I also am a soup queen. The two best soups I make are my butternut squash soup, and my cream of mushroom soup. I invested in an immersion blender and it's the best thing I ever did. I now don't have to dump stuff in to my ginormous industrial blender to make soups. I refuse to buy a food processor because I don't need one. The only item my kitchen is missing is a Kitchenaid mixer. I would love one so that I could make my own pastas and grind my own meats. Last night I made a batch of butternut squash soup. It has a bit of a kick to it 'cause this batch I included some cayenne pepper. It is so delicious, and so easy to make.

I know a lot of people think cooking is a daunting task, but to me chopping garlic and prepping ingredients is soothing. I clean as I go so the clean up is never very menacing either. And guess how I learned to cook? From googling recipes. If I ate something at a restaurant I liked, I did research to learn to make it myself. Do you think I could cook three years ago when I was half in a bottle all the time? Heck no! This cooking phenom I have become is relatively new. It's nice to eat at restaurants and have Rich say, "I don't know why we're eating here. You could make food just as good or better." But sometimes I don't want to cook or clean. Sometimes I want someone to cook for me.

I also share the wealth as far as my cooking goes. Almost every night I invite someone over to share a meal with me. I find that cooking just for myself, isn't as rewarding as it is to share a meal with others. And maybe there's that small part of me that still thinks I myself am not worth all of the effort of making a lovely, healthy meal from scratch. Tonight I invited a couple over who had to cancel at the last minute, so I am going to find someone else to come join Rich and I. I made soup, and the pie, and I'm making lamb chops in a balsamic reduction, and oven roasted artichokes with saffron mayo. WAY too much food for two people. We'll see. Maybe the artichokes can wait and we'll just do the soup, some salad, and the lamb. Is it 6 yet?

1/8 of this pie did not survive the night. It may not look pretty, but it is honestly the best pie I've ever had.

Adventure

Since yesterday's post made it seem like I should maybe run around singing "It's A Hard Knock Life" from Annie, on a loop, I figured I'd balance that out with some of the radness that has been my past. There have been a ton of good times, and so let's have a happy time post shall we?

When I was in kindergarten they had no idea what was going on with me. I was bored to tears and totally out of control. Come to find out they tested me and my IQ was off the charts. So they had me start helping other kids in class, then they started a before school GATE program. After a few years they had a special school with an all day GATE program, which is probably one of my best school memories. You got 50 minutes for each subject, and you moved at your own pace. There were work packets instead of books. You could complete as many packets as you wanted. In spelling I moved at the speed of light and completed all the packets through grade 12 my 5th grade year. The teacher, instead of just having me help other kids, had me write a book as my spelling assignment. I still have two chapters of that book. It is very Sweet Valley High. There are pages talking about how the main character will never find a good boy to date, and some pages are almost completely descriptions of what Esprit or Benetton outfit the girl is wearing that day. It's hilarious, and I love that I have it. I just wish I still had some of the pictures my friend Brian had drawn to illustrate the book. I also find it strange that I can remember this like it was yesterday, but most times I forget half of what actually happened yesterday.

In junior high we moved out to Elk Grove, which at the time was a suburb in the boonies outside of Sacramento. This was a rough transition for me 'cause I had only one white friend in the GATE school, and Elk Grove was VERY white. Of course, I latched on to the first African American girl I saw. Turns out, she was even whiter than I was. I ended up teaching her how to dance and introducing her to a ton of really bad 80s rap and r&b like this: Doug E. Fresh - Ladi Dadi. Good lord how I loved that song in the sixth grade.

At the end of junior high and the beginning of high school is when I discovered bands like The Cure and Depeche Mode. I spent high school going dancing at goth and industrial clubs, and seeing a lot of great concerts. Toward the end of high school I got in to hardcore and started traveling even further to see bands, and got in to activism and learning a lot about world issues. I was captain of the soccer team, with half a shaved head, and was in all AP classes. I was also in zero period Model United Nations/Junior Statesmen of America. I was nerdy, when nerdy wasn't cool.

I would hop on planes with just a backpack and couch surf around the east coast. I  noticed my obsessive behaviors starting to wane a little. I got to talk with a ton of people who were important to me at that point in my life, who sang in bands that talked about stuff that mattered to me. I met my first love who was a professional skateboarder and played drums in a screamo band (back when screamo was good). We would make sandwiches and drive to San Francisco to hand them out and talk to the homeless folks on the street. We would steal presto logs and drive up Highway 1 and camp out illegally on the beach. We went to senior ball at the Fashion Center of San Francisco in a convertible Mustang my mom had rented for me. It was all good.

In college I started going to raves on a regular basis. I met a ton of artistic and amazing people. I dated a boy whose room was a cubby hole above the bathroom in a warehouse. You had to climb a ladder to get in. I learned to match beats on two turntables with a mixer, and it was heavenly. I went dancing all hours of the night. When we woke up, we'd stumble over to May's on Market or Brainwash if we had a ton of money (which was rare) to have breakfast. We would adventure through San Francisco south of Market, which at the time was not gentrified, and we would meet interesting characters. I got to date a boy who was the nephew of a famous film writer, and we got to stay at one of their houses in Beverly Hills. They treated us to Shiatsu massages at Beverly Hills hot springs. His wife bought me a floral dress at a boutique that even then, had stuff I would never be able to afford today. I made road trips to Canada and hung out with kids who built lowrider bikes. We'd skateboard all over town and laugh and have a ton of fun.

I've always had a really easy time meeting people, even when half of the time in my brain I could not fathom what these people saw in me. I wish I'd had glimpses of the cute, young, amazing me that I am now quite certain I was. I am blessed to have had many life adventures. Even the bad ones, 'cause they have made me who I am right now.

Today I know artists, small business owners, food bloggers, writers and journalists, street kids, millionaires, and the rest of the spectrum of humanity that represent the people I call friends. I am lucky. I hope to have many more adventures to come. Tonight making butternut squash soup and strawberry rhubarb pie will be an adventure. Saturday going to a dark circus theme wedding will be an adventure. Next weekend going to Santa Cruz and getting to stay in a house that is built in to the side of the mountain will be an adventure. There are so many adventures, large and small, to be had still.

Happy picture of the day: my new jet black hair. Much thanks to Lauren for coming over last night to enjoy yummy snacks and help me dye my hair. Love you lady!

You Say It's Your Birthday....

No, today is not the day I was born. Today is the third anniversary of the day I woke up after getting out of jail and decided that I needed to quit drinking.

My friend had come to pick me up when I was released on my second DUI arrest. I went to the bank to get out 100 bucks so that I could spend the day getting thoroughly wasted with friends, and trying to forget all the stuff I'd have to deal with regarding my conviction. I ran home and got clean clothes, then headed to my friend Raylynn's to take a nap before we went out. I'd been up all night in the drunk tank, then the release tank. I can not sleep in places like that.

After the nap I woke up and Raylynn said, "Take a shower and let's go out!" I looked at her and said, "No man. I think I need to quit drinking." Simple as that. And I haven't had a drink since.

My first drink was given to me by my siblings when I was really young, and I remember it. My first shot of tequila that I drank down in one gulp. And I loved it. My sister gave me meth when I was 11 and didn't want to clean my room. The strange thing is I turned straight edge in high school and didn't do anything until my senior trip. That trip to Cancun was off and poppin'. I was drinking Everclear and having blackouts, and I never felt better. My brain wasn't going 87 places at once. I didn't have thoughts of "You have to iron this" or "Is your shirt crooked?" every second. I was free.

I got in to raves and started doing a ton of drugs, and alcohol took the back seat. But as soon as I stopped doing that, beer and whiskey became my best friends. I didn't drink every day, but every time I did drink I made up for it. On average I would consume more than a liter of Jameson, and about 12 beers in one sitting. I wouldn't remember hours of the evening. It didn't frighten me at all that I'd come to and have to look out the window to see if my car was there, or worse, to get my bearings and figure out whose house I was in.

During these years I had a ton of good times, and a ton of bad. I saw way too many people die, and attended far too many funerals. I'd drink and I would fear nothing. I would do any drug that was put in front of me, and not care about the consequences. I did this so often that I almost died of a heroin overdose while hanging out with a junkie. I was really drunk so only half hesitated when she filled the needle with the dose that she, an every day user, would inject. I did it, and that's all I remember until coming to on a kitchen floor, being slapped in the face by a man I'd never seen before. You see, junkies and drunks don't call 911. They call a bar and get help. Or they just drag you out the door and leave you on the grass across the street. I've actually helped people do that to someone. Then we called 911 from a cell phone and said there was a passed out guy who looked dead on 18th street.

I have a ton that I've made amends for, and I continue to do so on a regular basis. I am at heart, a good person. The person that drinking and drugs made me is someone I look back and am glad I no longer see in the mirror. She was a horrible person. She sold the class ring her mom bought her, for a 20 sack of dope. She robbed people's apartments to get money for drugs. She beat people up and didn't care at all.

Today I am three, and this birthday has become far more important to me than October 10th. That day is passive. This birthday is a positive choice I made, and therefore represents a far more powerful birthday in my eyes.

I am going to celebrate by eating fancy cheeses and salamis and prosciuttos with my girlfriend, and having girly time. I am going to try and remember today that I need to keep this up in order to keep achieving things that I never would have achieved, had I kept drinking. I was always able to keep a job. But I have gotten two promotions in this 3 years, and just applied for another one. There is NO WAY that would have happened if I weren't sober. I'd be sharing a house with the same old druggies thinking, "This is fine. I still have a job and I still have a roof over my head." I'm sad that there was a point where that was enough for me.

Now I have goals to strive for that I wouldn't have even thought to have before. I have my little house in the hood. I have people who love me even though I'm hella crazy. I have a real, genuine, life that I never had before.

I want to thank my sponsor Donna, Christina (my best friend and the woman I know I wouldn't be as good with, if she weren't a part of my life), Ally, Rosie, Rich, Bradley, Matt, Jesus (no, not THAT Jesus), Little Debbie (no, not the snack cakes), Lauren, my mom and dad (seriously, they have been so amazing in all of this), Kel, Lisa P., and any of the friends I'm forgetting. I'm sorry, you know how my brain works (or doesn't work). I want to thank my grammy, whom I miss SO MUCH today. At least she got to die knowing sober Melanie who owned a house, instead of drunk Melanie who would come to her house then bike to Sammy's to drink all night. I love you gram!

Happy picture of the day: my friend is having this shirt made for my bday. "But you already have a spork spock t-shirt Melanie!" "SHUT IT!" I talk to myself AND answer. *shaking head at self*

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I Don't Understand When...

I try very hard not to judge others. I try and realize that their life experiences are not mine, and that they are just doing the best they can. But sometimes I shake my head in disbelief at things. Luckily, most of these things are unimportant but they bother me nonetheless.

I don't understand when you get coffee EVERY DAY at someplace like Starbucks, and you don't have a reusable cup. A new paper cup every day, or sometimes two? Really? I mean, I don't understand when people buy coffee at places like this every day period. That's like 10 bucks a week in coffee. And it's not even good coffee!

I don't understand when you ride my ass on a surface street, or cut people off on the freeway to get a few car lengths ahead. Did you know the average time saved from driving like a jackass saves you 20 seconds of commute time? Congratulations, you just almost killed several people to save 20 seconds. I have a weird idea: get up earlier in the morning so you don't have to rush to work.

I don't understand when you are applying make up while driving. See that last one. Get up earlier and manage your time better. You're putting people in danger. And if you have a kid in the back seat while you're doing this, don't be shocked if at a stoplight someone like me runs up and pounds on your window and accosts you for being so thoughtless.

I don't understand people who complain they don't have the time to feed their kids healthy food. Umm, my mom and dad both worked and I NEVER went to school without having had breakfast, and I ALWAYS had a healthy lunch packed. Never a Lunchable. Never a hot pocket. A sandwich, some fruit or veggies, and a treat. That treat was either chips or a ho ho or ding dong. Shut up about the names of the sweets of my youth. They are awesome. Pack their lunch at night.

I don't understand when you are always late, and think it's part of who you are or a "cute" trait. Umm, no. When you are consistently late you are telling everyone, "My time is way more important than yours. I am an entitled jerk. I will never care about how this affects other people."

I don't understand people who constantly worry themselves with the life choices of others. If their choices don't directly harm you or the world around you in some way, get over it. I find that people who do this the most are people who are unhappy with their own life and rather than concentrating and fixing it, act up in arms about the way that someone else lives. This is called deflecting, and I just don't understand it. Who cares about the fat/skinny lady at the restaurant? Why do you worry about how much weed your neighbor smokes? In what way is your life altered, because that man wants to marry another man? It's like I always say, "If you don't believe in abortion, don't get one." It's a pretty simple philosophy.

See how that last one made me a complete hypocrite? Yep, I know that is true of myself as well. I could write this for pages to come, but I won't. I need to stop trying to figure out why people act the way they do. It's always been one of my obsessions, and I am working on letting it go.

Happy picture of the day, from failbook. So true:

I Am Not Politically Correct

The other day I commented on a blog and used the phrase, "I've never been a breeder..." and it really pissed one lady off. She said something like she respected my choice to not have kids, and would appreciate it if I didn't call her a breeder. Well, guess what? I didn't call anyone, anything. I used the term to describe MYSELF. Also, if you give birth to children, you generally have to breed to do so. It's a descriptive term. I didn't write a response but it made me think about just how many things I do or say that people find offensive, that I have absolutely NO interest in fixing.

One time I was working out with my trainer, and I said something about "my gays." A man turned around and said, "Oh, YOUR gays? Like you own them?" and I turned in to a black woman wrapped in a gay man. I said, "Oh, do you not say MY friends? Does that imply ownership of your friends? No. It is a term to describe a subgroup of my friends, so get over yourself. You know who's NOT offended when I say 'my gays?' MY GAYS! How many homos do you hang out with on a regular basis? I'm betting none. So take your PC verbal bullshit and spew it to someone else, 'cause I am trying to exercise here." I also once told my number one gay he should stop plucking 'cause his eyebrows were getting way too faggy. He didn't bat an eyelash as he asked, "Oh god, really? I better lay off a bit." End of story.

I like to shoot guns, and plan on buying a shotgun for my home. I find it to be a great stress relief to go out and blow holes in a target. I learned to shoot from someone who is extremely gun savvy and taught me about gun safety. I am going out next month to an outdoor range so I can shoot with a shotgun. I have only shot at an indoor range. I shot a .44 Magnum and hit the target dead center my first shot. That was pretty exhilerating. I totally agree with the waiting time to get a gun so that background checks can be done. But I'm also okay with people owning fully automatic weapons.

What's strange is that politically I lean pretty close to socialism. I believe we should pay more taxes to make sure everyone has health care. I believe that social programs to help families are a necessity, not a luxury. I believe people who make a ton of money pay far less in to the system than people who make what I do, which isn't much. I believe in a flat tax and everyone paying their share, without being able to hide money in bank accounts or tax shelters.

But I also believe in meaning what you say and saying what you mean. I will never be someone who cares if something I say offends someone, as long as I'm not saying it PURPOSELY to offend someone. I am an intelligent individual and I grew out of my PC mindset in my late teens. I don't have time to carefully calculate the words I say, or the words I type, to try and make sure I don't piss anyone off. I think if you live a life where you don't piss anyone off, you might be doing something wrong.

This does not mean I go balls out at all times. I have manners and etiquette. On Saturday night I went to a few art shows, two of which were extremely packed. At one I was in absolute shock at the people who sat there, glass of wine in hand, having full conversations directly in front of pieces, so that no one else could get up close to take a look. In some cases I said, "Excuse me" if a photograph looked like something I wanted to get a closer look at. But for the most part I just told Rich, "This is why I don't come out for second Saturday art shows anymore. People are entitled assholes who are completely unaware of their surroundings." Past Melanie would've said, "Wow, it sure would be nice if someone could get up to appreciate that piece of art they came to appreciate!" This Melanie just gets a little appalled and leaves.

In closing, I just think it's really important to be yourself at all times. Don't make apologies for being yourself and saying and doing things that amuse you, as long as you're not doing it in a hateful or mean way. And always be polite if you can. If you can't, at least make your rudeness amusing, would you?

Happy picture of the day: This made me laugh all the harder 'cause it looks like it's in a Target or Walmart. If I saw this shirt at Target I would fall to the floor and not stop laughing 'til security came.

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Commercials

Most of them feel like they're sucking the life right out of you. I am as grateful for the invention that is the DVR as anyone else. However, on occasion I will see a commercial where I wonder, "Why am I not friends with the person who made that?" or simply, "That ad person earned their money." I have only ever bought one thing from seeing it on a commercial: the grilled cheese bacon burger at Carl's Jr. The time I went through the drive thru and asked for it, and they said they weren't selling it anymore, I drove out without buying anything and haven't been back since. Damn you delicious burger on texas toast! Anyways, here are a few of the commercials that I actually like.

Jack in the Box
I swear every time he tries to say Chipotle and his mouth gets more tangled, I die. I actually cry laughing when it gets to the part where he slaughters, "Hasta Luego." As someone who understands Spanish but is afraid to speak it for fear of sounding like Jack, this commercial hits me in my funny bone for sure.

Quiznos

Quiznos2
Quiznos got two 'cause both of these commercials make me say, "What the fuck?" Any commercial that does that is okay in my book. When I find something weird, that means it's weird...okay?

Gillette
Umm, I am madly in love with all those men. Way to choose a good group of fellas to use to market your weird razor especially for men who "sculpt" their facial hair. I can dig it. Call me, Adrien Brody. *putting hand phone to face*

HP
This one is obviously recorded off of someone's tv so I apologize for the quality. It's still a pretty great commercial. Probably because of my extreme love for this Violent Femmes song, and really that whole album.

The Crying Indian
Never have racial stereotypes been so funny.

Dodge Charger
I love this one 'cause that is almost my dream car ('68 Charger) and I kind of miss the blatantly sexist commercials of old. They amuse me.

Have an awesome weekend everyone. I'm about to head to my mom's to make a visit to the oh so dreaded box store Costco. I am going to price check their things like toilet paper, cat food, and such to see if I can't get it there cheaper than Target. Lord help me. If you don't hear from me on Monday please call the police, because it probably means the creepy box store people have eaten me.

Because I Need The Reminder

This morning I went and had breakfast at the Capitol Park Cafe. For one, I wanted something other than yogurt and flax seed, but more importantly, I needed to hang out with some of my old dudes.

The Capitol Park Cafe is located in a seedy part of town, under a residential motel. You can get a good breakfast for under 5 bucks, and a super crappy cup of coffee. The waitress is awesome, and the clientele are mostly older. Some of the clientele are just down on their luck young folks, and at least one guy who came in was obviously coming down off of something and just looking for a warm place to sit. Why the hell would I go someplace like this by choice? Well, I need to remind myself of where my life could go if I don't stay on track and do all the things I'm currently doing, so that I don't end up homeless or in a residential hotel. I've been mighty close before, and I don't ever want to go back there.

Also, there is the selfish reason that I really love listening to old men tell stories. I like to hear a grumpy proclamation of, "If Obama gets re-elected I'm going to jump off a bridge!" Yes, I actually heard that this morning while I was eating, and I laughed out loud while sitting at the counter. I love listening to older folks talking about how they used to own property in this or that neighborhood, or how different things were back in the day. I like romantic stories of the things that used to be.

The plate I got was a chorizo skillet. It came on a cast iron skillet and was delicious, and far too much food. Most of the time as I'm leaving there I'll find someone just sipping coffee and act like them taking my food would be doing me a favor. "Hey man, you hungry? I already packed lunch so I don't have use for this stuff but I sure don't want to toss it out." The folks there are prideful. The last thing I want to do is make them feel like I'm giving them a hand out. They more than likely wouldn't take it if I did.

I know that because I'm not having kids, I will have to take care of myself when I get older. Most of the folks at this joint are in that exact boat. Sadly, when listening to them most of them actually do have kids who just aren't able to, or choose not to, help them out. I most certainly don't understand that. Especially because I am more than likely going to be the one taking care of my folks when they can't do it anymore. Which is fine by me, 'cause they took care of me for more years than were required while I wasn't taking care of myself. Not just my childhood, but through many years of my alcoholism.

I need places like this cafe in my life. I need to visit them often so that I can appreciate what I have. I need them so that I can appreciate that sometimes an old dude sitting at a counter by himself likes the smile and "Good morning!" I have to give. I need them so that I can look at the waitress behind the counter, with prison tattoos, and missing teeth, and know that's the road I used to be traveling down. I need to see these people as people who are amazing and have their own stories, and not someone to avoid looking at as you pass them on the street. Too many people do that, and I never want to be one of those people.

Happy picture of the day: Coolest.Picture.Ever.

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My Diet Is An Investment

I don't understand why most people eat like they are a human garbage disposal. This is the body that has to sustain us and get us around for years to come. Now, to be perfectly honest I pretty much WAS a human garbage disposal for years. Maybe the reason I take such an interest in what goes in to my body now, is because for years I filled it full of booze and chemicals, so now I feel like I owe it better treatment. At any rate, I spend a lot more on groceries and eating out at restaurants than most people do.

I only shop at farmer's markets, and small specialty grocery stores. I do not shop at supermarkets. I do use Target to get my cheap yogurt, condiments, and other things I just can't see spending a ton of money on. I would NEVER buy meat or produce at Target. I don't care about labels like "cage free", "free range" and "organic" because I've done my research and know that these labels in California are negligible at best. I know all of the hidden names for animal products in items. I know that a lot of red meat is dyed to look bright red in the store. I know that we need to change the law so that genetically modified food is clearly labeled.

My grocery spending, to what I make, ratio is far higher than most people, and I'm okay with that. What I put in to my body is an investment. Bargain grocery shopping is like me telling the world I'm not worth that investment, and I refuse to do that. On average I spend about 400 dollars a month on groceries just for me. That does include my kitty items, shampoos, razors, and cleaning supplies as well. I don't find that number to be obscene. I would find it more obscene if I ate all Trader Joe food out of boxes and then wondered why, years later, my body was failing me. I believe in preventing things, rather than treating them after they happen. My diet is a direct reflection of that. Sorry Trader Joe's fans, it's just that I don't know where there food is sourced and I can't support that kind of thing. I don't always eat locally, but I do for the most part and it's something I value.

This is not in any way meant as a preachy post. This is how I need to eat for my life. However you eat is your business. And hey, Friday night my ass is going to Taco Bell. I ate some pasta on Sunday that was imported from Italy. Talk about a carbon footprint. More like a carbon Bigfootprint. I realize and value how truly blessed I am to be able to afford to eat exactly how I want to. I know a lot of people can't do that, and it's a shame.

The amount of edible food wasted in this country is obscene. The fact that I had to sit in a meeting at public health and listen to someone talk about how they were destroying olive trees to keep the prices up really gets me steamed. You know what I did? I TOTALLY overstepped my boundaries and followed that man out of the meeting and asked if I could have a moment of his time. I said, "Hey, what if you guys all just donated any excess to homeless shelters around your area? That way you look like the good guy, and you can still keep the market from being flooded with excess product." He asked about picking prices. I said, "I know for a fact you could get people to come pick for free, and possibly even handle the deliveries." So now he's looking in to it. We also have groups who are now picking fruit at public parks that would otherwise fall to the ground and go to waste, and delivering it to food banks and such around town.

The fact that we are a society more concerned with time saving and simplicity, than feeding our children healthful food, is something that should alarm us all. Why is everyone so behind the 99%, but driving through a drive thru to feel their families? Hey, KFC has a bucket for $9.99, who cares what they do to their chickens! I for one can't live that way. And although I respect everyone's personal choices, I wish more people would get up in arms about people eating what is essentially food-like substances, instead of real food.

Happy picture of the day: the screensaver on my computer, and my iPhone wallpaper. I'm pretty sure most people who walk by this at work have no clue what it's about. If they did, I may get in trouble as it's slightly inappropriate. Go me!

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Acupuncture

I had my first appointment on Saturday and I'm pretty excited about it. It was extremely strange, but not at all painful. For some reason I thought the needles going in would hurt. The only feeling was a really strange smallish sting, then a sort of heat radiating out from where the needle had been placed. Right now we're concentrating on my lower back, and between my shoulders. My lower back issues are the result of a car accident many years ago. My shoulder stuff is just where I carry all of my stress. And believe you me, as peaceful as I try to be and as much as I meditate, I am pretty much a walking ball of anxiety and stress.

We began the visit with her asking me tons of questions about my lifestyle and diet. It was a very thorough consult and I felt very comfortable when she finally said she was going to exit so I could disrobe from the waste up and lay on my belly, and she'd be back in a minute. The room was very warm and she even had a special heater for my bare feet. I was mighty comfy.

She came back in and explained where she'd be placing the needles. I had some placed in the back of my heel, some at the back of my knee, tons in my back and near my neck, and one in the top of my head. I was SO tempted to ask her to grab my iPhone and take a picture of me dressed up as the human pincushion. I imagined I looked like Pinhead, even though I only had one needle in my head. I'm not going to lie, the head one was really strange and I swear I felt it there hours after I went home. She then did an herb cupping on my lower back and I left feeling woozy, and relaxed. I sat a few minutes before driving home and breathed in my car, taking in the cool afternoon air.

I plan on going back once a month, because of the cost. I have to pay for this out of pocket as my medical no longer does acupuncture referrals. The acupuncturist I went to is also a Chinese herbalist so a few months down the road we're going to talk more about my insomnia and anxiety issues. For now we're just focusing on the back pain. I've only had to take one pain pill since the visit, when I had been taking them every night.

It may all be in my head, but you know what? I'm okay with that. If it's all in my head that acupuncture is helping my back, then hey, it IS helping my back. I am glad to not be popping a pill every night to be comfortable, and I look forward to many more visits with Zoe (my acupuncturist even has one of my favorite names).

Happy picture of the day: my friend found this fabric and immediately called it Mel Fabrique, because the girl on the fabric kind of resembles me. I'm pretty sure as soon as the lady has it available for sale, I will buy a few yards. I may need a Mel Fabrique set of curtains, or chair, or DRESS!

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