Never again...

I was nice to the woman who gives parking tickets in my neighborhood this morning. She noticed Olive and I kindly informed her that my dog was friendly and would gratefully accept an ear scratch. I don't have a car so I figured she meant me no harm. Even though she terrorizes my friends and neighbors I assumed she was only working through several past lives of bad karma to procure such a profession and would perhaps respond amicably to a friendly face for once.

I was wrong.

She scowled at me and Olive, pretending to be terrified of my clearly ferocious (possibly rabid) Shih Tzu. Olive and I don't use a leash when we're just doing a quick pop around the block so the woman proceeded to lecture me on mandatory leash laws. She then stomped off, probably to report me and my feral, bloodthirsty companion to someone with more authority than her.

I have one comment and one question:

Comment: This evil woman deserves all the frowns and cold-shoulders she receives. She is clearly mentally ill and was mistakenly given a cushy city job instead of the straightjacket and shock therapy she needs to get better. If my dog, who is barely pushing 13lbs. and was idly sniffing flowers when approached by this maniac, is a threat to public safety, I may need to be locked up myself. The lady should be made to live the rest of her life in a cube in Crystal City for being so foul and miserable.

Question: If children are allowed to walk on the sidewalk without a leash, why isn't my dog? I think it is a safe assumption to say that most dogs are better behaved than most children. I know I may be a little bias, but I think I can confirm that Olive, a teenager in dog years, is less capable of destruction of property and physical harm than a human her same age. In fact, Olive and I run and hide from the brats that walk down O Street during the school year, throwing eggs, yelling obscenities, littering, and starting fights.

After the interchange with mega-bitch in uniform, Olive and I stared at each other blankly, both wondering what the hell we were doing in such a strange town...one in which you can't even walk on your own block at 8:30 am without being accosted by some crazed stranger with ill-intentions.

Then Olive wagged her plume at me and went back to sniffing flowers. I never stop learning things from her...bad people don't deserve much time...it is better to just keep doing what makes you happy.

Girl Talk

One of my favorite DJs has just released a new album online. You can download it like the last Radiohead cd...you choose your price.

http://74.124.198.47/illegal-art.net/__girl__talk___feed__the__anima.ls___/

Download at once. Don't question me.

This is the guy that managed to fuse Elton John with Biggie and the Pixies (Where is My Mind?) with 50 Cent and D4L (Laffy Taffy) on the Night Ripper album...a very honorable feat, indeed.
My fav track so far is 5 with the slow groove version of MJB's Real Love and Ol Dirty Bastard with Dexy's Midnight Runners.

Love it, need it, want it...music, that is.

Biodiversity

I am in a book club and am notorious for reading only one out of every 3 books they choose. I don't know where these women get their time, but somehow they can devour one book per month easily. I finally finished reading our February book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, nearly 3 months late. And since I'm so late and therefore have no one to talk about the book with, I'll talk to myself about it. I've gotten rather good at that actually. All those fascinating and spur-of-the-moment conversations one would normally have with a roommate or significant other…yeah, I have to have with myself due to my constant state of aloneness. Olive helps some but she is decidedly not an omnivore and would prefer a carefully prepared steak for every meal. So I'm on my own with this one.

This book was fascinating in so many ways, but I won't bore you with a book report. Rather, I usually relate to books by marking passages that make me think about a situation completely non-related to the book's topic. This characteristic as a reader also makes me unsuitable for membership in a book club. What else is new?

One passage I marked was in the section of the book where the author is spending time on a sustainable and rotational farm, quite different from the industrial farms from which we usually must get our food. He is commenting on how the farm has an unexpected plot of land devoted entirely to a standing forest. Cows and chickens need grass to thrive and you can't grow grass (or any other crops) in a forest. So one would think that that land should probably also be used for pasture. More forest means less grass…grass and trees are antagonists in the success story of a farm, right? It turns out that the forest supplies a vital storage facility for moisture, wind protection, homes for birds that are natural pesticides for crops, and other resources the farm needs. In fact it is in the edge of the forest, the place where farm and forest overlap, that are the most productive and full of life. It is in the in-betweens and overlaps that nature finds its most healthy state of being.

This could be considered some sort of post-industrial Siddhartha story, the middle path or the theory of moderation. Indeed, it is. But, it also got me thinking about what in my life could be elevated by some complimentary overlap in another person. (See why I'm hopeless in a book club discussion?)

I'm inherently lazy, non-competitive, and susceptible to boredom. I am sensitive and demanding. I can be dramatic and moody. But, under the right circumstances, I am also passionate, affectionate, and indulgent with my friends and lovers. I love having people around me and make pleasing them one of my top priorities. I like to inspire and support my friends and lovers to follow their dreams and make themselves happy. I don't have surface-level relationships…if you're in, you're in for real and for good and I have no inhibitions showing my adoration. I think these characteristics are o.k. They aren't well-rounded by any means, but at 27, I think I can work with it.

What is noticeably missing is the overlap of qualities I don't possess. Much like the thriving grey area between forest and farm, what are things that I need provided to me and what can I provide? Of course, I can't put my finger on the myriad of characteristics that could help me elevate my life to a higher sense of meaning and happiness. The zillions of facets of human personality are a bit much to cover in a blog. But, I can say that after a weekend watching everyone in couples parading around in puppy-love bliss, my missing overlap was felt a bit more than usual.

So, I will now focus on identifying my ideal overlap. I'm not sure whether it will look more like a forest or a farm, but this should be a little more fun for my girlfriends and I…we've grown a little weary of the make-believe personal ad drafted on bar napkins. The good news is that I have lots of friends and their personalities compliment my mine immensely. From my mega-motivated boxing partner who gets me off the couch by hook or by crook to my sister who is a poster-child for responsibility and adultness to my organized girlfriend who makes me at least attempt participation in this stinking book club…I clearly know how to choose the cream of the crop when it comes to girlfriends. Even my furry little friend Olive sitting next to me reminds me that I'm lovable even if I'm hungover and haven't taken a shower for 2 days. Though i'm still looking for my own metaphorical farm-hand/forest ranger, my overlap is clearly very rich and diverse as it is.

Post Its and Text Messages

I signed up for one of those text messaging packages last year, not because I really like text messaging but rather because everyone else apparently does and I was getting charged to even receive them.

Over the last few months, text messaging has become one of the most irritating forms of communication yet. Just as Post-It notes are really only good for writing down things that aren't worth remembering anyway, text messaging has become the medium for useless interaction. For example, I got a text message last weekend around midnight from a random ex-boyfriend that said "Hi." Um, ok...hi? He could have made more sense by saying "June." or "Feature Gradients." (I was just looking around my desk for words that have no context and those are the first two I saw.

I got another cleverly written text message from another ex the week before that said "I have been meaning to text you." Again, how is this useful to me and why would I care? These messages have absolutely no relevance to the current situation, relationship, or even current event.

I can see certain instances where it may be appropriate to send a random text out of the blue. For example, if I was at the DC Pride Parade, several past boyfriends would come to mind and I may want to send them a text that says "Results Gym had a fabulous float. Was that you in the cage at the top?" Or, if I saw someone passed out on the sidewalk in a pool of their own vomit, I might be compelled to send a text to a certain ex that said "Wow. Looking good baby!"
You see, sometimes contacting your exes via text is the safest and most appropriate method of communication, especially when you don't much want to talk to them anyway. But, if you don't much want to talk, why send anything at all? Can we all agree that each message sent contain some relevant or humorous bit of information?

Instead of "Hi.", how about saying "Hope you are well."

If you want to reconnect after several months of not speaking, don't send a text message at 2am that says "What's up?"

I will likely not respond and will instead tell all my friends how silly you are and have a nice laugh. (That is, if I even know who the text is from...I have an ever-growing list of contacts in my cell with Do Not Answer as the name.)

Now, because I am trying my very hardest to not be a spiny fish (thanks for that one, Mom) I will now give an example of a recent fabulous text interaction:

From boy: I wanted to bring you back a bottle. Do you like red or white?

Response from me: You're fabulous! I'm a red girl.

See...not so hard, right fellas?

Working from the outside in

I had a fabulous dinner party last night with some of my Latino (and Latino wanna-be) friends. If you have friends of Spanish decent, you understand why i am clutching my coffee with a death grip this morning.

I'm proud to say i kicked ass in the vegetarian Italian cooking realm and we had a lovely Salsa lesson. We also managed to finish off several bottles of wine and Cava, which may have contributed to the impossible task of arriving to work on time today.

Awakening, bleary eyed, to an apartment littered with champagne glasses and wine bottles this morning was simultaneously shameful and fabulous. Shameful because there really is no good reason to drink that much on a random Tuesday. Fabulous because i'm glad i don't feel too old to drink that much on a random Tuesday.

I dressed in my most professional gear today. My colleagues must think I have a job interview. I don't. But there is something about looking like a grown-up that balances out completely not acting like one.

Thanks for all the fun Simon, Colleen, and Gabriele! I appreciate you speaking English all night just for me.

I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me.

In an effort to prepare myself for the upcoming Sex in the City movie, I've been watching re-runs of the foxy foursome religiously over the last few months. It is strangely ironic how closely this show can mimic the real-life relationships I have suffered. No wonder this show is so hugely popular!

I've tried the young boy who lives in a trashy apartment with video games and posters taped to the walls. I've dated the too-feminine straight man. For all I know, I've dated the too-feminine gay man. I had unfortunate run-ins with several boys with the Mommie complex. I've accidentally dated a religious person. I can't stop talking about my own Mr. Big. I've fallen off the sidewalk because someone tried to hold my hand. And, I've even had two actual boyfriends. The creator of this show has relationships of our current generation down to a tee.

I just finished the episode where Carrie gets dumped on a Post-It Note. Then she goes on a rant in a nightclub about how guys are cowardly and immature. Then she gets high and almost gets arrested. Then she eats ice-cream and laughs about it all. When said like this, it sounds rather boring and unbelievable. BUT, the truly unbelievable thing is that I've very nearly had that same night. In fact, so many of my girlfriends have. I think the point of this episode is to remind women that we can be prone to craziness and irrational anger. Here I have to stop to ask in a very Carrie Bradshaw sort-of way: It is really us?

Being broken up with on a Post-It is one of the least horrible abuses women are subjected to in our real-life relationship adventures. I feel that the occasional rant, however absolute the probability it falls on deaf ears, is our right. God forbid after being stood up, lied to, cheated on, ignored, used, taken for granted, disrespected, and, in a plethora of other ways, mistreated we dare get angry and raise our voices. Frankly, we should do it more often. In fact, women who don't speak up only make it more difficult for the rest of us. If I am a crazy bitch because I won't communicate solely via text message or I want you to keep your urine confined to the inside of the toilet or I expect kindness, equality, and respect before AND after sex, than so be it.

I'm just sooooo tired of always trying to remain calm and classy in a sea of classless jerks. I know that there must be some normal men out there, someone who rides my same wave. I guess I'm a little bit Charlotte in that way. But when my boss found the printout for my movie tickets for Friday's opening night of the big Sex in the City movie and asked me what character I was, I could only very sadly answer Miranda, the jaded, cynical one.

However, when I am alone and feel sad about how Miranda I've become, I can always count on Samantha to help cheer me up with fabulous words of wisdom:

If you're never someone's girlfriend, you can never be someone's ex-girlfriend.

Now i think i'll call up my girls and eat ice-cream and laugh about it all in the most unfunctional shoes i own. I feel better already.

Self Reflection

A strange and kinda funny thing just happened.

I was just accused by one of my exes of talking shit on my blog about him. I was confused, naturally, because it would be unlikely for me to write about someone who could actually read my blog. If i talk shit, i set it to my preferred list, of course. Most of my exes aren't on Myspace anyway thank goodness so i'm free to insult them privately as much as i please.

This is the funny part...i was on a rant about another boy...you know, that "One" that has tormented me incessantly for the last year. My own real life Mr. Big.

Turns out, the accusing ex, who i don't talk ill of on the blog (yet), can relate to my posts about other evil men in my life so perfectly that he thinks it is about him!

The sad and ironic thing is that, much to several people's shock, i've actually spoken very kindly of his gentle coaxing me from a scared and cranky hermit to one almost capable of love again...not to mention my numerous shout outs about his musical fabulocity.

Apparently, it isn't me who thinks he may act like an "ill-behaved loser in fancy clothes," but rather someone closer to home.

It is fascinating how when love goes away you can overlook the nice things and try your very hardest to find anger and blame. It is also interesting that when you don't know who that blog post was about, you start having a look at the crap way you treat people and start feeling a tad paranoid.