Monday, June 25, 2007

Candlebox and Contact Highs...

I wasn't even out of grade school the first time someone accused me of living in the past.

It was the last day of sixth grade and I was going to be leaving the private school I had attended my entire life to go to a public junior high school so I could "make friends closer to home" before high school. I was weepy and melodramtic at the end of the warm May day (I know, me melodramatic? Never...), and many of my friends spent their time telling me it would all be ok.

And then this boy - this boy I thought I hated - told me that I should let go of the past, not try to hold onto it. I emphatically denied his allegation and I told him that I wouldn't miss him, even though I knew I would.

I had just turned 11 years old and this little punk made an observation about me that is true to this day - and I was in my late 20's before I realized it for myself.

I'm obsessed with the concept of time - planning for the future, revisiting the past, trying to eek out the seconds as they tick away on the clock. And I still miss moments that I wouldn't bring back if I could.

Maybe it's because I'm getting older and I want to relive certain moments. I know, that's why we have reunions and hang on to people and places...

Maybe it's a coping mechanism - nothing's happening right now (or something crappy is happening), so I'll think about something that was thrilling or someplace else I'd rather be.

Maybe I should stop spouting the psychoanalyst bullshit and focus on the topic at hand:

Mandatory Wild Turkey Shots.

Yes, required snuffs of sweet rich liquor on a hot Arizona summer evening in 1994. Well, either 94 or 95, since neither Remi nor I were old enough to buy liquor on our own.

We had decided to go see Eddie Money & Candlebox in concert at Westworld of Scotsdale when we were both home from college. It was hot - probably June since we hadn't yet had enough of the summer sizzling to keep us from being outdoors.

The group of concert goers consisted of me, Remi, Remi's brother and all his soccer friends (one of which both Remi and I had a crush on in high school). We met at the house the guys shared before the concert to caravan because it was the safe thing to do.

Well, ok, we met there to drink first.

The guys had a rule, every time someone entered the house that person was required to take a shot of Wild Turkey. Keeping with this line of thought, the rule soon evolved to include people leaving or entering the house from any one of the numerous doors around the spacious living room.

We managed to keep it together enough to drive to the concert venue - at least a 90 minute trip without traffic.

Upon arrival at Westworld, Remi's brother issued a blanket statement to the guys that they would NOT be getting us drunk. Naturally, no one listened and before the first band left the stage we were obnoxiously drunk, drinking out of any and all of the strewn beer and liquor cups throughout the group, shooting Wild Turkey from hidden flasks and leaning into the circles of people passing joints so we could get a contact high.

I distinctly remember Remi looking at me at one point and telling me she had to pee after Candlebox had finished their set and we were hoarse from scream-singing and jumping around. The problem? We were sitting at the top of the hill overlooking the pavilion and the port-o-jons were at the bottom of said hill. Guzzling down the last of the cups, we forged ahead (sending EC, the one we crushed on in HS for more beer for us) and rolled down the hill. I don't remember climbing back up, but we must have because I remember Eddie Money taking the stage as the evening turned cool and Remi's brother yelled to everyone that we were "CUT OFF!" (while we laughed).

I only remember snippets of the evening from that point on. Eddie Money did an entire set in what seemed like 2.5 minutes and then we were hurdling down the hill toward the parking lot. Somehow, we convinced them that Remi was sober enough to drive home. We made it out of the lot and to the nearest gas station to pee and surprisingly didn't get arrested in the convenience store for drunk and disorderly conduct.

And do you know why this story is relevant to the beginning of the post?

Just like Eddie Money sang that night, "I wanna go back, and do it all over but I can't go back, I know."

And while I still wonder how we got home that night (since both of us blacked out after the gas station and woke up the next morning at our respective houses), that isn't the main reason I want to go back.

There are just moments in life when the bigger picture doesn't matter - when there is nothing outside that moment, when all that matters is what is happening in that second - not what has passed, nor what is to come. And there is peace in not giving a damn about anything else for that brief time except the feeling of being there, caught up in something that will never happen again.

And then we spend our lives trying to cultivate that feeling because really, isn't that the point of life?

Saturday, June 23, 2007


Actually, this blog is rated:

Online Dating

Site for - Rating

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

* sex (5x)
* ass (4x)
* fucking (3x)
* shit (2x)
* piss (1x)

I'm fucking pissed that fucking was only referenced 3 times.

And I definitely need more sex...

Thursday, June 21, 2007


No, not Friday.


Tonight is the final for the English class I'm teaching.

Which means I'm class-free* for TWO WHOLE WEEKS.

Not that I didn't love my class - my students were great and it was probably the best college course I've ever taught.

But I'm tired and glad it's over.

*Class-free doesn't mean classless, which is usually the case.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

And the President too...

If you were me, you wouldn't like...

Presidential motorcades that stop rush hour commute.

Living in Northern VA.

Pretty much everything in the news.

Being so far away - from friends, from Paris, from where I want to be.

The terrible things we do to eachother.

No Child Left Behind, and how we educate our children.

Spam - email and original.

Reality TV - except for Dog the Bounty Hunter. (yes, you may mock me)


Fou-fou drinks, unless it is a godiva martini.

Bad customer service.

That we live to work, work to live.

That the desert is disappearing.

Nasty lyrics on ringback tones when I'm calling you about a job offer.

Saturday, June 16, 2007


Jeremy turned me on to this awesome site where you can build a playlist and then listen to the music you just picked.

You can visit my page here.

or use the control below to listen to my picks:

Go make your own playlist too - and add me as a friend dammit - so I can listen to yours!

Thursday, June 14, 2007

And I thought he was allergic to kitties...

Roxy: Mr. Wizard died today.
Husband: Who the hell is Mr. Wizard?
R: You don't know who Mr. Wizard is? The guy had his own show from the 60's through the 80's - maybe even later - to make science interesting for kids...
H: Oh, like Bill Nye?
R: Before Bill Nye.
H: I wasn't around then.
R: You act like I'm so old. You should remember the 80's - you were born then.
H: The only thing I remember about the 80's was the movie Willow. I couldn't understand why everyone hated it. But I guess Val Kilmer should never be an elf. And the evil queen was ugly. Evil queens and witches should be tempting sex kittens - not ugly.
R: Oh dear god...
H: I have my evil sex kitten right here.
R: The girl in the car that just passed?
H: No - you. I love evil sex kittens. I say hello to them. If they say "Meow", I say "Hello". (Starts humming The Beatles "Hello Goodbye" song)
R: Meow?
H: Hello, Helllooooo!
R: Your nuts.

Good to know...

Husband: Come with me. (Dragging me by arm)
Roxy: Will you stop dragging me around like I'm some sort of whore?
Husband: If I was dragging you like a whore, I'd be dragging you by the hair, not by your arm.

Friday, June 08, 2007

100 Things I Want to Know

In no particular order...

What the world looks like from a hot air balloon.
Your thoughts.
How my former students are.
The way the Northern Lights look in person.
Where Myles Montgomery, Jason Witty, & Shawn C. are now and if they are happy.
The hue of an African sunset.
What it is like to have a child.
If he thinks of me as much as I think of him.
The feeling of home.
My parents' and grandparents' memories.
How to make the best bread pudding ever.
If this is all that there is.
How to dissipate my anger.
The rules of, and how to play, craps at a Vegas table.
What my dog is thinking.
The adrenaline rush of sky-diving.
How to focus.
If peace will ever be rampant.
How to sew, can, grow a garden, and be domestic.
Another culture.
How the world will end.
The place to obtain funding for Java-n-Jammies.
How to make a difference.
If there is anything new under the sun.
Where to find the ultimate eggs benedict.
The answers, 90% of the time.
Fluent Spanish.
What to do when my writing sounds trite.
If Nessie really exists.
The most important thing.
Where my friends from Rancho are now and how they are doing.
How to stop being so fucking annoying and self-absorbed.
If I'd feel alone if I got rid of my cell phone.
The spray of salt water on the open sea.
How to simplify.
If my dark secrets are really that different from your dark secrets.
A ghost or two.
How to ski.
What would happen if all of the world's technology suddenly crashed.
Why I wasted so much time with sociopaths and bad boys.
If the Queen has dustbunnies in her house too.
The best lines from my favorite poems.
The way to sing - and sound like - Melissa Etheridge, Tori Amos, or Liz Phair.
10 great novels, from cover to cover.
If I have the stamina to get my PhD.
What the inside of a tornado looks like.
How to rise above ordinary.
The right thing to say at a funeral.
The dance of the morning light here.
The view of earth, from outer space.
How to be a better sister.
What happens when we die.
The definition of a new word each month.
How to play the guitar.
If I'll ever finish Middlemarch like I promised myself.
A better way.
What kind of life forms exist in outer space.
How to not procrastinate.
Intimate details of my favorite cities.
The way to hold it all together - and look great while doing it.
If it is possible to move things with my mind.
The feel of making art with my hands (pottery, glass, wood, etc.)
How we have become so corrupt.
What it's like to be effortless.
A clean, funny joke.
If anyone, anywhere will ever be safe.
The quickest way to make a million dollars.
If the mailman reads my postcards.
When I'll see Tokyo - or Greece.
Where I'll be when you're gone.
If you are happy.
What it looks like when a star explodes, frame by frame.
How to surf.
If I'll see your face or hear your laugh again.
The end of my first novel.
Unexpected happy news.
All those grammar rules I have forgotten.
How to disappear.
What it's like in the underwater restaurant.
If time travel will ever be possible.
The light in your eyes at sunrise on the national mall, after staying out all night.
How to transfer the images and memories in my mind to something permanent and tangible.
More about art.
Another 100 things.
The lyrics to all my favorite songs.
How to forget.
If I'll remember all those stories from childhood when I'm older.
If you'll even read this whole list.
Why I'm always so anxious and restless.
What would happen if I just left.
How not to care what others think.
The best garden plants to attract butterflies, lazy afternoons, and luck.
When to tie up loose ends.
How to play, and remember rules, for card games.
A way to reconcile the argument of innocence vs. experience.
When to let go.
If there is enough time.
What is enough.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Deep thoughts from the fortune cookie

Society prepares the crime; the criminal commits it.

Roxy say: ominous, spooky, true.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

I'm feeling a little bit cheated...

by tonight's Sopranos.

Anyone else feel this way?

Apparently it only takes 50 minutes to down two men and a Ukranian. WTF?

As for Anthony Jr., get a grip you fuckin' pussy.

And was that the last hurrah for Dr. Melfi? Kind of anticlimatic, don't you think? Though I did love the part where she was reading about sociopathic behaviour... it reminded me again that Tony is NOT a guy I want to know - even though the entire show makes him seem like someone I do want to know...

After the past few incredible episodes, this is what they leave us with on the second to last one?


Update 1: I have no life. And neither do these folks.

Update 2: Lys, if you are reading this and watch the Sopranos, I'd like to know if Tony reminds you of anyone we mutually knew (think sociopath, evil, charming...)

About Me

Stupidly self-centered for over 3 decades!