Friday, August 13, 2010

Happiness Is...

For fear of sounding cliche (although I do love my cliches) tonight I shall define what happiness is... to me.

Hoekay

Happiness is:

...food. 'Nuff said.

...the excitement of knowing that one beer will buy me a personal pizza (with all of the acoutrements, naturally.)

...visiting friends, no matter where they may be (North Sea, Sag Harbor, Brooklyn, South Korea, Arizona... just to name a few.)

...travelling. One can never go wrong with the happiness of travelling. Well, actually, that may not be true. I mean, if one were to get arrested in another country that may not be the best of circumstances, but here's to hoping that doesn't happen (clink!)

...anything Lord Of The Rings. Especially the movies in an extended version. Holla!

...being a nerd.

...having womanly curves, otherwise known as T and A. Even if one must sacrifice a few extra layers, hooray for having something to hold onto!

...beds. Can't go wrong there (usually.)

...that thing you do in beds. You know... the good stuff... with all of the acoutrements... yet again... gotta love the side dishes...

...and it ALL comes back to food, now doesn't it?!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Me, Oh, My, Oh, MeMe, ME!!

As of recent, I have had many-a conversation and contemplation about the same subject; self-love, self-obsession, and SELF-ABSORBED! How do we define what is and isn't okay with talking about ourselves? How much should we divulge? In this day and age, everyone's information is accessible, and we are the one's who make it available. The attention excites us, makes us feel wanted, and boosts the ego in such a way that would give Narcissus a run for his money.

What do I know, though (me, me, me)? I love myself so, so much and really just want other people to feel that same love (towards me, of course. Not for their own betterment but mine... Kidding... Sorta.) I think, though, that I perceive myself as being so fucked up in the head that I talk about myself and give away extraordinarily personal information in an often failed attempt at wanting people to understand me better. The keyword here is wanting; not everyone gives a shit, and in fact most people don't want you to tell them everything. They want to figure it out on their own. However, I did have a friend tell me once that he lets the women he's interested in talk about themselves because that's what keeps them interested in him. I guess so, but I'd rather have a conversation that goes back and forth; one-sided bull-shit is of no interest to me and ends up being incredibly boring. I mean let's be honest, my life is really not that exciting...

The closest friends I have are the one's whom I want to listen talk about themselves as much as they are willing to listen to me.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Koumpounophobia

Tonight, I learned that my extraordinarily irrational and strange fear of buttons has a name; koumpounophobia. There are no words to explain how happy and excited I am to know that more people than just ME are grossed out/frightened of buttons. Yesssss...

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Koumpounophobia

I know, I know... Urban Dictionary may not be the most reliable source, BUT it describes the way I feel perfectly. Totally do wash my hands after touching buttons, and definitely get a weird feeling on my insides when I see them. Especially henleys, they are the absolute worst. They just look dirty and blech.

So, friends, make fun of me all you want! I shall now revel in the fact that I am a koumpounophobe. Victory!!

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

TWITCH!

I have a problem. Actually I have many, which is pretty much why I have this specific problem. There are times when I wonder if I have Turet's Syndrome. Not only is it because of the random spurts that spew forth from my mouth, but it is also because of my insane twitches. Yes. I twitch. I twitch hard. It's embarrassing, and only getting worse.

Used to be that my nervous twitch manifested its'self in the form of a bunny-like movement in my nose. Over the past few years of my life, other areas of my face have begun to uncontrollably move. As of now, I move my ears back and forth, scrunch my eyebrows together, do something inexplicable with my cheek and in turn my eye, and flare my nostrils all whilst twitching my nose. Ah yes, it is a beautiful thing.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

An Insane Sucker For Things Like This:


"Stranger Than Fiction." Love it. So... So much.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Here's To You; Tink, Sass and Lu

For the past couple months, my friend and I have been taking as many trips into the woods as we can. Basically it started as soon as the weather moved towards the higher degrees and the ground began to thaw (i.e. spring.) I always believed that, because of where I live, hiking wouldn't be possible. Turns out I was wrong. So far, we have explored at least four, at most six, areas that are as un-touched as an area may be in these here parts.

Well. Last week, we upped our ambitions, in order to go to an island nearby where you actually have to pay a ferry charge in order to venture onto. Apparently, there's a nature preserve there that has three or so trails that range from 1 to 10 miles in length. Naturally, we wanted to start with the smaller in order to try things out, and then mayhaps explore the rest of an island that we have lived near to for the past 26 years but haven't truly ventured onto until a week ago.

Our attempt, for better or for worse, failed. The park, on this particular day, was closed. We didn't want to go home because we paid a ferry fee and live in quite the expensive area where every penny counts, so we decided to stay and see where the road would take us. At first, it was to some secluded beach with a 'no trespassing' sign, and then to another beach (that directly connected us to the previous one, but hey...)

It was beautiful. It was hot. It was a UV rating of 9. We just happened to be without any sunscreen. However, in our defense, we were expecting to be under canapes of shade. Needless to say, the sun burned the poop out of us.

The four hours we spent in the sun gave me the most wicked sunburn, and now I am a lucky enough soul to have the entertainment of peeling skin. Yay.

Here's the thing; to a certain degree, I really do enjoy it. I don't know why, don't ask, but I really enjoy peeling the dead skin off of me. I think that part of it stems from the fact that about seven or eight years ago I was diagnosed with psoriasis. Since then, everything having to do with the epidermal layer of my body simply amazes me. I have, in this respect, become quite the little scientist.

So, when something like a sunburn happens, it's almost an experiment for me.

Hypothesis:

If I am severly sunburned, then my skin will peel and I will help it along its' way.

Conclusion:

True.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Visualize the Visualityness


Currently, I am feeling much more visual than verbal.

Ahem.

Oh, and this.


Hm. Le mew.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Phenominallyishy!

Sometimes I just have way too much going on in my head. Actually, that's a lie; I pretty much constantly have too many thoughts and ideas running around. It's not a bad thing, at least not all of the time. I just get carried away and excited. I feel like a little kid who just learned how to speak and starts spewing words so quickly that they all end up jumbling together and all you end up hearing is thiscompletelynonsensicalrandomyetfairlyentertainingpiecesofnothingnessesthatmeshtogetherandmakesensetothespeakerbutnottooanyoneelsearoundthemkind oflikethisrightnowyouknowwhatimean?

A lot of times I think it'd be in my best interest to get an interpreter, someone who speaks Dianian. The only problem is I would most likely have to pay them, and that doesn't fly with me. On urbandictionary.com (I live for this site and there's actually a book I should buy... one day, Diane... One day) there's an awesome definition for "Dianian" as shown HERE:


The special vocabulary used by ladies called Diana.

Dianas are known to sometimes:

-spontaneously create their own words that may not have existed previously
-omit strange sounds with a signature meaning
-attribute new meanings to words

Dianian is simply put the language of Dianas. Once you get close to aDiana, you will easily adapt to the Dianian language.
Diana: I feel so "rrraaaah"!
X: What is that supposed to mean?
Diana: You know, like annoyed, like "rrrraaaah". Duh.
X: OK, you're speaking Dianian again.

Okay, I mean they say Diana's, but Diane is just a special and more fabulous version of the name Diana. In my opinion, Diane's are just better people. We are a rarer breed than them thar Diana's.

On that note, Fregeekerds. 'Nuff said.


Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Ha-rumphs and Ha-rems

Sometimes, there are things that make me go, "Hmm..." I recently told a friend of mine how I want to make a completely anonymous blog. Blogs in general are some what foreign to me, although I'm starting to get used to this. However, if you know me, I write how I speak. I'm not entirely sure I could make myself sound any different than I do. I suppose that if I were to do 'creative writing (short stories, poems, etc.)' it might actually work; I am no Rachel. I really enjoy writing but, I know I'm not the best. My thought process is a little to sheer. Sometimes, I wish I could be more opaque, more clothed but then I wouldn't be me. I fear this may be my downfall but if in the end I am brought down by my ability to show emotion than so be it. I'd rather people know how I feel than to fear I feel nothing at all.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

New Instrument, Maybe?

Okay, so I say "New Instrument" as if there's an old one, but I suppose vocals count as an instrument. I love music. I mean, I really, really love it. It's always been in my life too... piano, clarinet, violin, guitar, voice... okay, so the only one I ever had enough true patience for was my voice. I adore singing, to the point where I don't know what my life would be like if I had a bad voice. Not that I do anything with it, but just knowing and hearing it makes me one of the happiest people ever. It's a talent, and a rare one at that. (Not to toot my own horn, but motherfucking toot.) My sister has it too. Her voice makes me want to positively break down and cry, it's insane. Anyway, point being, I really want to learn how to play the banjo. How much fun would that be? ! Shyeah, there's a good possibility it's time for me to attempt and fail at learning a new instrument, and I'm pretty sure that waste of money shall designate its'self in the form of a banjo. Hey, what can you do? The heart wants what the heart wants, and apparently I have two of them... (hearts, that is.)

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Awake With Much To Do

I just found out the other day that two of my friends are leaving for South Korea on May 15th. I knew they were leaving, but I didn't know the exact date until Saturday and I have to admit... I am le sad. However, what excites me is an exceptionally good reason for visiting the Pacific (although, apparently, where they will be is not on the Pacific but the Yellow Sea, however it is on the Pacific Ocean side, as I am on the Atlantic Ocean side... i.e. they are going to be very far away.) So. Now there's the question of when to visit, for how long, and where else to go whilst over yonder! Ach! So many decisions, yes?

On a side note, I am very proud of my ladies for doing this. It takes balls which, inherently, women do not have. That may have sounded a little gender'ist (?) but it was not meant to be. It takes so much to completely uplift your life for (at least) a year, and basically leave it in the hands of fate. I'm jealous and do, in fact, wish that I had followed suit and joined up with them. However, we all make different decisions, and frankly, I'd rather visit than stay for an extended period of time. So, basically:

Dear Lynn and Jade,

Thank you for going to teach in South Korea for a year. I love that you're doing this, my brave little toasters. Especially since I now have a free place to stay (booyah!) Who's ready for the Harvest Fest, because I KNOW I AM! I know I'm about three'ish weeks early in my wishing of wellness, but you deserve to know that you are getting the utmost of support. STOKED FOR THE TWO OF YOU! Here's to life changing experiences (clink!)

Love,
El Poop

Monday, April 12, 2010

Sha-Freaking-Poopie!

I am ridiculously excited about this summer. Ach! It's not even that I think it's going to be fun, I think it's more the fact that I have no idea WHAT is going to happen that really gets me going! I'm one of those people who are really afraid of the future but love that uncertainty. Every time, every single fucking time I make a plan, it goes down the poop shoot. So, I have officially taken up the position of having a vaguely general idea of what I want to be doing at some indefinite point in the future and rolling with it. What fun is it if you know exactly what's going to happen? None. None at all.

So, I am going to pick really vague things that I want in the next few months'ish (time is irrelevant):

1. to be somewhere.
2. to be doing something.
3. to be happy.
4. this is getting tough, now... okay, to have a job. Although, depending on where I am and what I am doing, this is debatable.
5. to have sold at least one piece of art. Not a necessity, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

I guess that's it. Oh, no wait:

6. to be tan.

Okay, now I'm done.

Monday, April 5, 2010

In Honor Of The Queef (Quif, Quief...You Choose)

Today at work I started to wonder about something. What exactly is a queef? For the purposes of this post, I shall spell it as such. Some may quif. Others may quief. I queef. Urban dictionary (depending on which spelling you look up) lists it as being a 'cunt fart,' 'pussy fart,' or (my favorite) 'The involuntary release of compressed air from the vagina resulting from penile piston like pumping of intercourse. A.K.A. Pussy fart.' Personally, I would define it as air pushed out from the vagina. Pussy fart sounds good to me.

Anyway, I'm not entirely sure how this whole thing works. Today (sorry guys, I'm about to get personal) I kept having these weird air-bubbles in my vaginal area. It felt like I let a little gas out of the tush and instead of dispersing throughout the air, the bubble moved up in between my... well... vaginal area. It fucking sucked. I felt really awkward, too, because throughout the day I was moving around really awkwardly. It was almost the pee-pee dance, but it was really an attempt to get that bubble out of that supremely uncomfortable area.

As I was moving my hips in that really awkward motion, I started wondering about some things. Well. Do guys queef? I mean, if there's a girl version, there must be a guy version. As I live with my father and (for now) my uncle, there really aren't too many fellows in my life I would feel comfortable asking. Would a guy experience what I did today? When they fetsy, does part of that bubble get stuck in between ball sack and grundle? If so, what is that called?

I looked 'penis fart' up on Urban Dictionary, and it really didn't help that much. How the fuck does a guy fart out of his penis? I know the motion it takes to produce a queef, but how does a penis fart work? Not only that, but honestly it really isn't fair that there isn't a specific word to describe it. Queef is pretty well-known, but penis fart? That's kind of boring. You could call it a part, a penart, a fenis... I mean, there are so many possibilities.

I wonder what the origin of 'queef' is. How did this word come about? Is that the noise it makes? I'm not sure that's how mine sound, but then again I don't really pay too much attention when something as unfortunate as this happens. It's really uncomfortable, guys, and I'm not sure y'all realize that! Especially when it gets caught, as it did today.

Dear Any Guy Who Has Ever Experienced A Penis Fart,

Can you please explain to me how this works? To me, it just makes no sense. I mean, does it get stuck? How do you push air out of that? As I do not have one, I really don't understand it. Let me know. Thanks.

Sincerely,

A Supposed Queef-Master.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Dear Sun...

Dear Bright, Beautiful, Burning Star That Sustains Life On This Planet,

I would really appreciate it if, on one of the days that I wake up and it's overcast, you would do me a favor and wait to shine until I have photographed my art. I'm sorry, I love you, but you're direct light just doesn't work for photographing art. You make everything too bright, and it's quite frustrating. Please, next time, just stay in for a little while. I promise I'll play with you the rest of the day if you give me the morning. Thank you very much.

Sincerely,

An Annoyed Artist

P.S. - Since I can't take photos of the WHOLE art, pieces of them look pretty neat when photographed just so.





Stuff and Things... And More Stuff... More Things

I stubbed my toe today. It wasn't a regular toe stubbing, either. It was a toe that had already been stubbed a few days ago. Scratch included. So, I stubbed it again today. Hard. Actually, it's not even my toe. I have this huge thing on my foot, I believe it's called a bone spur. It's really big. Uncomfortably big. And now it's mildly pussy. Not pussy as in vagina, but sort of ooze-like. There has to be a real word for that. Anyway, I think I need a band-aid.

I have really manly hands and feet. I use them, though, that's why. My fingers look like they could actually rip your nose off if I played the "got your nose" game with you. I'd be afraid if I saw them coming towards my face. I've ruined them with years of play-doh fun, drawing and intense knuckle-cracking which happens to be one of my favorite past-times. Screw cigarettes, give me a knuckle with displaced synovial fluid and I'll snap that shit right back into place. If only the 'cracking' experience lasted longer than a milli-second. Buuuuut I guess that's how all good things go; they're fleeting.

I'm pretty content with my life right now, but I feel like I could do more. I travel, I art, I work... I buy stuff, which is always fulfilling. Something's missing, though. It's sort of indescribable, but it almost feels like a huge pit in my belly. I hate feeling that way, but it's also really hard to get rid of, kind of like my bone spur. It's really fucking annoying and if I ever did get rid of it, it'd be this whole huge operation where part of me would be shaved down. I don't want to lose a part of me. I guess in the end it'd be worth it (almost as much as metal legs.) Oh well, c'est la vie, non? Oui.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

My (Severely) Simplified Version of Passover

If there is any possibility you feel you might be offended, then please do not go any further as I have no patience for justifying myself. Otherwise, keep reading and soak it up, bitches.

A really long time ago, there were a lot of Jews living in Egypt. The women were super fertile and the men, apparently, had some kick-ass sperm. Because of this, the Jews were multiplying like crazy. Well, the Egyptians were not entirely thrilled about this, so Pharaoh declared that "all Jewish girl babies born can live, but all the boys have to be thrown into the Nile." This whole thing really didn't go over too well with the Jewish peeps. This one lady in particular birthed a son and was like, "Wow, my kid is freaking beautiful!" So, instead of throwing him into the river to die, she put him in a basket and sent him down the Nile.

Then, coincidentally, Pharaoh's daughter was taking a stroll down the Nile (you know because she wanted to look at all the alligators and shit, I mean, who wouldn't, right?) and she just happened to come along this basket with a kid in it. Well, like anyone, she was all, "Hey, there's a kid in that basket! I'm going to see what's up. Maybe I'll even take it home to my pops and see if I can keep it." Turns out, she did keep him and named him Moses.

So, Moses grew up Chez Pharaoh, but he had no idea that he was in fact Jewish. One day, he was mucking about and he saw all of these people performing wicked hard manual labor and Moses was all like, "Yo, what's up with that?" He even saw this Egyptian dude whipping one of the Jewish slaves and Moses did not like this one bit, so he struck the dude. Well, Pharaoh found out about it, and let me tell you, he was not pleased. Moses decided that it might be in his best interest to leave, so he ran away and landed in this place called Midian, a Jewish village.

In Midian, Moses met all of these people he made friends with, and even married one of the (seven) daughters of the priest, Jethro. Her name was Zipporah and she and Moses banged and gave birth to a boy named Gershom. While he was in Midian, the current Pharaoh died and all of the Jewish slaves said, "Hey, there. We really don't like what's happening to us. Dear G-d, Help?" G-d just happened to get his mail that day, and he wrote back, "Hey guys, I feel ya. I'll help you out."

Apparently the Jewish people couldn't read G-d's hand-writing (it was really messy,) so he decided that it might be best to find someone who could understand him and just speak through that fellow. One day Moses was walking along with some of his sheep and, all of a sudden, there was this big bush burning in front of him! Moses was like, "Woah, I didn't think spontaneous combustion was real!" Then, he was really thrown for a loop because the burning bush was really G-d! Needless to say, Moses felt a little light-headed.

G-d said, "Yoooo, Moses! What's going on, dude? Look, I have this thing I want you to do for me and it's a little complicated and it might be a little taxing, but I'm pretty sure you could handle it." Moses thought about this for a second and then was all, "What-up G-d?"

G-d said, "So, you know by now you're Jewish, right? Well your peeps back in Pharaoh's area are being seriously mistreated. What I need for you to do is help me to free them. Look, I know it seems like a lot, but no worries. I promise, I'll help you out. I mean, I have a lot of powers and shit, so it's cool." Moses was a little apprehensive at first, but how many people can say that they talked to G-d? Not too many. So, Moses agreed. G-d gave him a staff so that if the people didn't believe Moses, G-d could do all of these crazy things with them and everyone would be like "WOAH!"

Moses went back to Pharaoh's land, and held a huge community meeting with all of the Jewish people. He told them, "Hey, guys. So, I talked to G-d and he said he'd help y'all out. It'll take a little time, but bear with me and by golly, we'll be out of this place in no time." The Jewish people were a little skeptical but finally thought, "Alright, man. Let's see what you got."

Moses went up to Pharaoh's place and was like, "Yo, I gotsa bone to pick with you." Pharaoh was curious, and, since he and Moses grew up together, wanted to see what he had to say. Pharaoh said to Moses (in my Dad's words,) "'Sup, Holmes?"

Moses said, "Let my people go, man." Pharaoh was taken a little off guard and was all, "No freaking way, Man! Who's going to make my tomb, if not my slaves?" Moses said, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. All I know is, let my freaking people go."

Well, Pharaoh didn't, and Moses left feeling really un-fulfilled. He told G-d what happened and G-d said, "Yo, Moses. Check it." G-d decided that in order to get his point across and prove that he's for real, for real, he'd have to harden Pharaoh's heart.

The next day, Moses went to Pharaoh and was like, "I have G-d on my side. Look what I can do." He took that super-special staff that G-d gave him and it turned into this crazy looking snake. Pharaoh was not impressed. He brought his mystical dudes in and was like, "You can do that too, right?" His magicians said, "Yo, check it, Pharaoh!" and they turned some sticks into snakes too. But Moses' serpent-staff went over and ate those stick-snakes. Pharaoh still wasn't impressed, so Moses said "If you don't let my people go, shit is going to hit the fan." Pharaoh was like, "BRING IT ON, BITCH!"

The next morning Moses woke up, and was super groggy. But, G-d said, "HEY, Moses, you have some shit to take care of today. Go down to the water and hold that staff out and I'm going to make some craaaaaazy shit happen."

Moses went down to the water and touched the tip of his staff into the Nile. All of the sudden, the water turned blood red. The air reeked of iron. At the palace, Pharaoh called for a drink and when it was brought to him he said, "I didn't ask for wine, but whatever." When he took a sip of it, he felt like he was going to throw up and he spit the blood into his servant's face.

"What the heck," asked Pharaoh. "Ugh, bring fecking Moses up here. This is ridiculous." Moses was brought to Pharaoh's place and said, "I told you so. Let my peeps go?"

"Nah," said Pharaoh. So, Moses left.

The next morning, G-d told Moses to go down to the Nile and stick his staff into the water again. Moses did what he said and then the water started bubbling and all of these freaking frogs started jumping out of the water! "Holy Hannah," Moses said. So, Pharaoh was all weirded out because these frogs were running rampant and he called to Moses.

"YO MOSES! WHAT THE FECK, MAN??!" said Pharaoh.

"Feck do you expect? I told you shit'd hit the fan," said Moses.

"Whatevs, my mystical men can do that too," said Pharaoh. He called them in and, like he said, the dudes made frogs that were running all over the place and, subsequently, made them disappear.

Pharaoh said, "WHATCHOO GOT, MOSES?!"

"Fine," Moses said. "But things are only going to get worse from here!"

"Just get the feck out," said Pharaoh.

So, Moses left. The next day Moses woke up and G-d told him to take his staff and stab it into the earth. Moses did, and all of the dust rose and turned into lice. Moses said, "EEWWW, G-d!" Everything in Egypt was COVERED in lice. Pharaoh, scratching the shit out of his head, summoned Moses. As before, Pharaoh didn't believe Moses and wouldn't free the slaves.

The next morning, Moses woke up super early and G-d said, "Go to Pharaoh and tell him that you mean business and that if he doesn't free my peoples, insects are going to attack the shit out of the land. Don't worry, though. I won't let this affect my Jewish homies."

Moses did as G-d said but, as before, Pharaoh wouldn't let up. "FECKING FINE," Moses said, and soon after millions of billions of bugs appeared and were flying everywhere and were getting into people's foodies and were crunching underneath their feet.

The next morning, Moses went to Pharaoh. "You again?" said Pharaoh, "What now?"

"Dude, just let my people go," Moses said.

"Nah," said Pharaoh. Moses left and, through the power of his staff, G-d made all of the Egyptian's livestock die. This was not cool, because everyone was really hungry. How could they eat if they have no food?

Once again, Moses went to Pharaoh's place and asked if he and his people can leave. As usual, Pharaoh declined. Moses went back into the slave's area and took a handful of ash. He threw it into the air (some of it got in his mouth) and when it settled, all of the Egyptians were covered in these really, REALLY nasty boils. I mean these things were fecking gross, like something out of a dermatologist's textbook. They were popping and oozing... It wasn't a pleasant sight.

Moses went to Pharaoh and, while holding back some serious vomit, asked Pharaoh to relent. Pharaoh, while his boils were popping and oozing into his mouth, said, "NO!"

"OY!" said Moses. He went home and G-d told him to hold his hands up in the air. Massive pieces of hail began falling out of the sky, one of which went whizzing passed Moses' face. "Holy shit" said Moses. "Oops. Sorry G-d," he said.

Pharaoh decided that maybe it was time to let Moses and his peeps leave. He sent for Moses and said, "Moses, make this shit stop and I'll let you go."

Moses went outside and all of the hail stopped. But, when he went back in, Pharaoh changed his mind. Moses was really frustrated.

"Moses, we're almost done. Just a few more," G-d promised.

Then, out of nowhere, this huge black cloud started moving closer and closer to Moses. Huge locusts started falling out of the sky and attacking all of the crops. Now there really wasn't anything to eat, and the Egyptians were starving! As usual, Pharaoh wouldn't let the Jews leave.

The next morning, Moses woke up and, in the light of day, G-d told Moses to lift his hands up to the air. Everything went black as night. You couldn't see a single thing. Moses, stumbling on his way, went to Pharaoh and yada, yada, yada. Big surprise, Pharaoh declined.

Moses, once again, left Pharaoh's palace. He went home, and that night G-d came to him again.

"Look, Moses. This is the last plague and it's going to be a doozy. Know how you were found in a basket in the Nile? Well, that's because the previous Pharaoh wanted all of the boys who were born to be killed. This last plague's going to be a little bit like that," G-d said.

"Oh, G-d. I don't like the sound of this," Moses said.

"Yeah, well. It sounds as bad as it is. It won't affect my people as long as you tell them to sacrifice a lamb and wipe its' blood across their door. This will prevent anything from happening to them. But the blood NEEDS to be there, otherwise... well... yeah," G-d said.

Moses went to the Jewish people and relayed G-d's message. He then went up to Pharaoh and asked him to let his people go. "This time," Moses said, "you should really just let us leave. I really don't want to let this one loose and you and, trust me, it's a stinker."

Needless to say, Pharaoh did not agree. He just didn't believe Moses and, apart from that, G-d had hardened Pharaoh's heart to the point that not even Arthur's sword could make a dent.

Moses left the palace feeling really down. Even though he had complete faith in G-d, he just wanted everything to be over already. He didn't want anyone to go through what his Mama went through, losing a son and all. However, he knew that nothing would be right until the plagues were fully finished and G-d's word had been completely carried out.

That night, a darkness fell upon all of Egypt (and not just night, but a deep down feeling of darkness that's border-line depression.) All of the Jewish people were huddled in their respective homes, cradling their children and hoping that everything will work out. None of them got any sleep that night.

The next morning, everyone was awoken by screams of sadness. As G-d had told Moses, all of the first born boys of Egypt had been killed. Moses' head hung low. For the last time, Moses made the trek up to Pharaoh's palace. And, for the last time, Moses said, "Let my people go." Pharaoh, who's son had died in the night, didn't even say anything. He barely nodded. Nonetheless, he agreed.

Moses rushed back to his people and said, "YO DUDES, LET'S GO! He might change his mind, so screw the bread. I know it's un-leavened but I'm sure it'll taste fine. We can call it Matzoh and it'll be our 'thing.'"

Moses led his people out of Egypt, just as G-d told him too. A little while later, Pharaoh came out of his stupor and was really angry about all that had happened. He gathered his troops and they made their way after Moses and the Jews!

Well, Moses' people were going as fast as they could. But, there were a lot of old-folks and children and they didn't really have horses, just a bunch of donkeys and wagons. Pharaoh's troops were coming closer and closer to the people. The Egyptians moved fast because they were all strapping young dudes and were all riding horses.

The Jews were totally freaked out, and all of a sudden they came to this super huge body of water known as the Red Sea. Well, at this point everyone just about gave up. G-d told Moses that everything would be all cool and that he should go to the edge of the water and hold his hands out to his sides. Moses did just that and, miraculously, the water began to part.

Everyone's jaws dropped. At this point, they could see Pharaoh and the Egyptians in the distance. "HURRY THE FECK UP," yelled Moses.

Those who could, lifted old people or children or the disabled on their shoulders and booked it across the now parted water. The Egyptians started moving into the cleared area and the massive walls of blood-red water came crashing down on them.

On the other side of the sea, everyone was super tired. They were so excited, though, that they didn't even care! Finally, they were saved from slavery and could live their lives in freedom.

Sort of the end.

Monday, March 29, 2010

nutting up, not shutting up.

Today was the beginning of the end of any free time I might have left. I'm okay with it, though, because I had probably one of the best pre-working-full-time vacations. The majority of my time was spent upstate, specifically Rosendale. If you have not been, I highly suggest it. It's inspiring up there. Seeing it again, I was filled with something completely indescribable. One of the days I went for a three and a half hour hike around an area called the Snyder Estate all by myself. About two hours in, I started crying out of nowhere. A while ago I came across this medical 'disorder' called Stendhal Syndrome (thank you, Dario Argento.) Basically, it's where one literally gets sick or goes crazy from being in the presence of art (insert wikipedia here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stendhal_syndrome I still don't know how to insert links, so cut and paste.) I almost felt like I was hallucinating how beautiful everything was while I was trekking around. It was so overwhelming that I just couldn't help myself and had tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt dizzy. I felt like how I feel on the days when I accidentally forget to take my crazy pills, which is completely an out of body experience and it's as if I'm floating and not actually doing the things that I know I am, like walking or breathing or feeling or all of the above. Reality stopped existing for me. That whole week makes me want to rent a little two-bedroom place somewhere upstate so I can just make art and hike (i.e. run naked through the woods like the deer-in-headlights I am.) However, I realize that in order to do the things I want to with my art, that it's pretty much necessary for me to move in or around the city. It's just one of those things that has to happen. Up until two months ago, this was not my plan. I mean, I really didn't have much of a plan but whatever it was had nothing to do with New York. I was done with it. We had broken up and I was attempting to move on with my life. But, as is true with most things in my life that I believe to have ended, I'm going back to him. New York is my Beau. He is my love and my life. In any event, the move to the city'ish area has to happen. After being away upstate, though, I want so much to move back up there. I graduated from college two years ago, and went to school in that area (SUNY New Paltz, my alma) and this was my first extended trip up since I moved out of my last apartment (le sigh.) It was perfection. I forgot how much I need nature and that continuous stimulation that only the woods can give you (me.) Don't get me wrong, I'm a beach babe at heart. I fucking love the ocean. New York may be my boyfriend, but the ocean is the love of my life and (if she was real) I'd drop trou for her in a second (yes, the ocean is a she.) Somehow, she just can't give me the same sort of stimulation that a three hour hike in the mountains can. Anyway. I'm torn now. Yet again life has thrown me a (running the risk of sounding cliche, here) curve ball to fuck my shit up. It's time for me to nut up or shut up and by golly I'm whipping those nuts out and making some mother-fucking peanut butter, Sasquatch damn-it all to Nessie!


Blah, blah, blah, yakkitty-shmakkity, life reflection, life reflection, life reflection oh, and this guy:


Monday, March 15, 2010

Because I Just Can't Help Myself!!

http://www.playboy.com/articles/john-mayer-playboy-interview/index.html?page=2


Dear John Mayer,

I fucking love you, man. If I had an extra $100,000 to throw away, I would pay you to continue spatting all of the stupid shit that comes out of your mouth because it makes me laugh so hard I pee a little. Seriously. Keep on keeping on, John Mayer. Thanks.

Diane

You're just going to have to copy and paste, I can't figure this whole 'link' thing out. Help?

Sunday, March 14, 2010

I shouldn't be awake, but that's okay

This keyboard feels amazing underneath my fingertips and I can't help but continuosly tap them. Maybe it's too much but life is too much sometimes. So. Not a fan of this continuous feeling, but I don't know how to get rid of it either. Rambling, yes. Help it? No. Thank goodness I'm a non doing non things otherwise I might feel like a loser. Ha, it's funny 'cause it's true... Well, actually it may not be funny at all.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Something I Should Take Into Consideration

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100312/ap_on_he_me/eu_med_the_pill_longevity


I have yet to join the masses! Looks like more of my years are being shaved off than packed on...

Life and Lemons

I realized last night, that I tend to spend at least five hours a week looking at flights (specifically on priceline.com; Dear William Shatner, I love you.") Unfortunately, I never have enough money (or a credit card, which would be dangerous in my mitts) to spontaneously book a flight like I so desperately want to. Well. I've decided that the first flight I find that costs $30 or less, I am going to book. I never really felt at home anywhere and something inside of me is saying, "Hey, Diane. I'm pretty sure that you were meant to go to this place and possibly live there. Do what you want, but I truly believe you should buy this ticket before it's too late and life has completely passed you by and you're still at home living with your parents and working at a menial job where you feel like nobody listens to you (actually, most of the time they really aren't listening to me as I learned today after I spent at least two minutes talking to myself, which is not a very good feeling and not something that I would liken to having sex, which is clearly a very good feeling... most of the time.)" Sometimes I feel like a fly stuck to that gross fly killing icky sticky tape that hangs from the ceiling and boys don't take down from their rooms for what seems like months (yes, I know this person.) They're fucking dead. Remove the shit and start anew. Right, back to me being a fly... There are moments when I think I can break free from that morbidly disgusting tape and start my own little colony of flies in some back-alley dumpster behind the best French restaurant around (oooh, or Japanese. I would so lay my eggs in that extra portion of chicken teriyaki that overweight fat kid shouldn't have ordered in the first place. Man up, kid. If you're gonna do it then do it right.) So, I pull away from the tape and my face rips off a little bit, maybe the tip of a leg or two (I really need those feelers, this becomes problematic.) Right as I'm about to totally break free ("They can take our land, they can take our women, but they will never take our freedommmm!!" *insert picture of me mooning you all; it's okay I have a great ass*) this huge gust of wind blows my way and ONCE AGAIN, I am a fucking fly stuck to that same piece of tape that little shit of a dude (actually, he's a very nice person) WON'T THROW OUT! Ugh. Whatever.

Dear Priceline.com or William Shatner or any airplane company that flies out of New York,

Hey, how's it going? I would really appreciate it if you would fulfill my destiny and give me a cheap one-way ticket to somewhere that isn't here. Ideally, I would prefer a place that is both warm and tropical but I'm willing to negotiate (Priceline, I know you are a fan of this whole 'negotiating' thing. Hook a bitch up, motherfuckers.) Thank you so much for your consideration and be sure to send me an e-mail (I'm green-ing it, so no letters) as soon as you figure it out. I'm leaving it up to you. But, remember: $30 or less!!!

Love,

A confused fly with her wings clipped and a feeler or three missing.

And THIS Guy...


Woman With Maggot In Head
Uploaded by LSD25. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

Yup. That's right. EAT IT UP!!!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Alottalittlebittle...

I go through stages where I either love, love, LOVE listening to music and have something constantly going, OR I am so tired of all of this bullshit-crappy-too-snappy-hip-da-dip-moveitlikeamidget bad, bad music and want nothing to do with it at all. Currently, I am loving contemporary musique. There are, specifically, three to four new bands that I have discovered for the pleasure of my ears, head, brain, soul, body, feet, hands, mouth... well, you get the point. So, here are the names of some bands that make me leak so much that if it was water that was leaking there would be enough to bottle up and save the world from drought (naturally, they would be bottled in nalgenes, so as to cut down on plastic and everyone can re-use their ab-fab bottles to fill with more of my leaky water.)
So, here they are:

1.Florence + The Machine
2. Passion Pit
3. The Heavy
4. Frightened Rabbit
5. Friendly Fires
6. Ida Maria
7. Girl Talk

Alright, so it was a few more than three and I could probably keep on going. Shoot me, if you so please, but KNOW that I have introduced you to pure brilliance. I mean PURE brilliance! Frightened Rabbit is probably one of my new all-time faves and I truly, truly need to own the album "The Midnight Organ Flight." I don't know if I should cry, scream, dance or laugh or do all at once because, YES, they really are THAT GOOD! As far as Florence + The Machine is concerned they, too, have that effect on me. Although, I have to admit that "Raise It Up" really isn't my favorite song. If it weren't for that song, I would be able to listen to that album (it's called "Lungs," by the way) the entire way through. This kid (she's 23, I believe) has a voice that could kill (I shall forgive the fact that she's a ginger due to this detail) and her lyrics are brilliant. For example:

"But he sang louder and louder inside the house,
and then I couldn't get him out.
So I trapped him under a cardboard box
and stood on it to make him stop.
I picked up the bird and above the din I said,
'That's the last song you'll ever sing.'
Held him down,
broke his neck.
Taught him a lesson he wouldn't forget!"

I mean, come ON! How morbidly wonderful is that?! Makes my skin crawl and my mouth curl upwards. Love it, love her.

As far as Girl Talk is concerned, this one-dude-music-making-madman will make you want to shake so badly the area around you will end up looking like Haiti (too soon?). I've only listened to two of his albums, which are actually just compilations of stuff he's deejay'd (is that right?) at shows/clubs/wherever else it is deejays play. Of the two, "Feed the Animals" is my favorite. Apparently he has many, so go yonder and download and to each her (heh) own. You can find him on illegal-art.net, a site where you can either download for free or pay a little something-something to help the cause.

So, off you go, my little darlings. Fly away to Frostwire, itunes, amazon, bestbuy, target or wherever else it is one can purchase music. Fly away and give yourself something to appreciate for LIFE!

Some Of My Listability





Once Upon A Newbie

Today I realized that I have a mild obsession for doing things. Right now, my obsession is to do everything in my power NOT to do the things that I should be. I am a list-maker, I make lists like it's my fucking job (is there any such job like that, and if so please let me know as I am currently searching, *wink*.) I have papers taped to my bed (with a plethera of pens on stand-by) telling me, "Hey, Diane. You should probably go to the post office today. That way you can get rid of this awful movie you just watched (called Once, it was simply terrible, with the exception of the music but let me tell you the rest was borrrrring) and await the new dvd (3rd season of Arrested Development, I'm heavily leaking.)" Or, there's the always constant reminder to shower that day, or to eat and take my pills. Staples. Sometimes, though, it's hard not to get side-tracked by things. Whoosh, I am GOOD at that! If there was an award for "Biggest Procrastinator," I would certainly be in the running. There's another award I've always (by always I mean 18 and older) felt should belong to me, but that's a private for another time that only a select few actually get to experience. Ahem. Too much? Anyway, I suppose it's time to scratch something off the list. Shower, maybe? *Sniff* Hmm...