BLFGT - Yep, you read that right, B.L. (Fried Green) T. Mmmmmmmmm!
(Photo courtesy of Closet Cooking)
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
To Lift My Spirits...
Or make me miss Asheville... Sunny Point!!!
BLFGT - Yep, you read that right, B.L. (Fried Green) T. Mmmmmmmmm!
(Photo courtesy of Closet Cooking)
BLFGT - Yep, you read that right, B.L. (Fried Green) T. Mmmmmmmmm!
(Photo courtesy of Closet Cooking)
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Bored, Tired and Uninspired.
That about sums it up. How depressing. The sky is about to dump buckets of rain on our heads, I'm scheduled to have a fun night out with good food, good tunes and good friends, and I'll I've got to say is that I'm bored? I'm sorry but that is just lame. There has to be something else swimming in this lucid, mostly-menstrual brain of mine.
Truth is, I lie. There is plenty in there, I'm just not sure I want it to come streaming out. I can't stop thinking about something stupid. Something so entirely stupid that I want to banish it from my mind. It is annulling and unforgiving and so full of self-depreciation I might as well be drowning in a pool of ridiculous self pity. What a waste of a state of mind.
Ok, ready? I am snapping out of it.
Siiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhhh.
You still with me? Jesus, I don't know how. Hold on, I am sooo changing this song. The sad bastard shit just gets to be too much sometimes. I mean REALLY. I hear misery loves company, but I'm not in the mood for that kind of party. No need for a seether of negativity, I got enough brewing.
THERE. Much better. Sometimes you just need to kick yourself in the ass and shut the fuck up already.
What's really going on here, you ask? (That is if you continued reading this bleeding bag of self-propagated loser-tantrum). What's really going on is that I, ironically, am bored, tired and uninspired, and when I feel like that, I try to dig deep into the layers of my cranium for entertainment and sometimes come up with my hand deep in a sad sack. Let me tell you, that shit is heavy. I truly wish some one would take my idea and build a storage room for sadness. I don't want it anymore today, creeping around like bacteria waiting for a sneeze and a unprotected wipe of the nose. Mucus membranes full of the "Catch Hell Blues" (thanks Jack White for that title).
Speaking of the blues, that's really what this is all about. No, not mucus. Music. Lyrics preparing to pickle my grey matter. Memories and melodies commingling to breed the ugliest love-child you've ever seen! I wish I could say its an abomination, but its just not. I love music because it makes me think. Thnk back on things, on states of being, on life, on love. So I suppose being buried under the weight of some kind of self-diagnosed melancholy isn't all that bad. Even that can be banished.
You know what Tom Waits, you Go on Out West. Let's let The Golden Age begin. And while I sit back thinking I Don't Want to Get Over You... I actually really do. All of you. And maybe for once, I'd like a Stratford-on-Guy. I mean, I am a Modern Girl. One more for good measure, let's just not go to far, mmmkay, don't Treat Me Like Your Mother.
Truth is, I lie. There is plenty in there, I'm just not sure I want it to come streaming out. I can't stop thinking about something stupid. Something so entirely stupid that I want to banish it from my mind. It is annulling and unforgiving and so full of self-depreciation I might as well be drowning in a pool of ridiculous self pity. What a waste of a state of mind.
Ok, ready? I am snapping out of it.
Siiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhhh.
You still with me? Jesus, I don't know how. Hold on, I am sooo changing this song. The sad bastard shit just gets to be too much sometimes. I mean REALLY. I hear misery loves company, but I'm not in the mood for that kind of party. No need for a seether of negativity, I got enough brewing.
THERE. Much better. Sometimes you just need to kick yourself in the ass and shut the fuck up already.
What's really going on here, you ask? (That is if you continued reading this bleeding bag of self-propagated loser-tantrum). What's really going on is that I, ironically, am bored, tired and uninspired, and when I feel like that, I try to dig deep into the layers of my cranium for entertainment and sometimes come up with my hand deep in a sad sack. Let me tell you, that shit is heavy. I truly wish some one would take my idea and build a storage room for sadness. I don't want it anymore today, creeping around like bacteria waiting for a sneeze and a unprotected wipe of the nose. Mucus membranes full of the "Catch Hell Blues" (thanks Jack White for that title).
Speaking of the blues, that's really what this is all about. No, not mucus. Music. Lyrics preparing to pickle my grey matter. Memories and melodies commingling to breed the ugliest love-child you've ever seen! I wish I could say its an abomination, but its just not. I love music because it makes me think. Thnk back on things, on states of being, on life, on love. So I suppose being buried under the weight of some kind of self-diagnosed melancholy isn't all that bad. Even that can be banished.
You know what Tom Waits, you Go on Out West. Let's let The Golden Age begin. And while I sit back thinking I Don't Want to Get Over You... I actually really do. All of you. And maybe for once, I'd like a Stratford-on-Guy. I mean, I am a Modern Girl. One more for good measure, let's just not go to far, mmmkay, don't Treat Me Like Your Mother.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Men Are From Mars...
You know, whenever men are asked "what are you looking for in the ideal woman?" they always answer the same thing- Someone who is is confident, smart, and funny. Some of the more shallow ones (if not just more confident themselves, as I'm sure they all think it) might say "attractive". Well that maybe what they "all" say, but when it comes down to it, I'm not sure I believe it.
Not to suggest I have an answer for what men actually want. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a smart, confident, funny girl.... and yet, the last man who made a pass at me was a homeless man on the street who whispered, "beautiful" as I walked by.
(I may have ignored him, but hey, a compliment is a compliment, even if from a dude who smells like pee).
Ok, so maybe that wasn't THE last time... I ended up back in bed with a former lover, and he told me he loved my body. Sigh. It doesn't get much better than that. Almost. I wouldn't consider dating this individual again, nor do I think he would want to try and walk down that road either. He's not even a bad guy, just kinda.... whatever.
Wow, are things really that bad? Boosting confidence by way of strangers and former lovers? As far as I'm concerned, we are in need for some serious revamping of the dating standard game. Not to mention, I used to pride myself on being "just one of the boys", that is until recently when I was casually, yet still completely awkwardly, shuffled out of an all boys chatter about a steamy vacation abroad. Most decidedly some funny stories were told, even some I will eventually hear as one of the boys is a friend of mine, but none the less, ushered out I became. Should I be upset that my status as "just being one of the boys" was striped from my uniform? Or should I consider it the natural progression of things? Hence, my original assumption- men are from Mars, and we won't ever understand.
How sad. Most of the woman I know are smart, cool, funny, beautiful and confident. What the hell? Here I am, counting the sum of recent flattery only to find it acquired by a desolate highway man and debauched been-there-done-thats. Christ. I knew The District had a slight ratio problem... and a homeless problem... but please don't tell me the Census is counting those hapless souls as part of the available single men per single women? Knowing this system, everyone counts. Like Miranda says on an early episode of Sex and The City, "I can't believe an island that small can hold all our ex boyfriends". I say, "I can't believe a city this large can hold nothing but vagrants and has-beens". Maybe that's being short-sighted. But is it?
Say men really do want these things in a companion. They want more than "that girl will do", right? I know I don't want just "that guy will do". Man, it's as if the double standard is so thick we might as well be swimming through Jello to get to the other side. Why do they get to claim such tried and true values in the fairer sex when we get immature, emotionally unavailable, possibly even mildly retarded (but adorable) dudes? How is that a fair trade?
If it is true that women are always looking for a man who is like their father, then is the same true for men? All they really want in this world is to be given the love that only a mother can give? Jesus, I surrender. I may love my Dad, but I don't really want a man like him. But I don't want a monkey either. Not to mention, last time I checked my maternal instincts haven't kicked in yet. Sigh again.
What's a girl to do?
Not to suggest I have an answer for what men actually want. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a smart, confident, funny girl.... and yet, the last man who made a pass at me was a homeless man on the street who whispered, "beautiful" as I walked by.
(I may have ignored him, but hey, a compliment is a compliment, even if from a dude who smells like pee).
Ok, so maybe that wasn't THE last time... I ended up back in bed with a former lover, and he told me he loved my body. Sigh. It doesn't get much better than that. Almost. I wouldn't consider dating this individual again, nor do I think he would want to try and walk down that road either. He's not even a bad guy, just kinda.... whatever.
Wow, are things really that bad? Boosting confidence by way of strangers and former lovers? As far as I'm concerned, we are in need for some serious revamping of the dating standard game. Not to mention, I used to pride myself on being "just one of the boys", that is until recently when I was casually, yet still completely awkwardly, shuffled out of an all boys chatter about a steamy vacation abroad. Most decidedly some funny stories were told, even some I will eventually hear as one of the boys is a friend of mine, but none the less, ushered out I became. Should I be upset that my status as "just being one of the boys" was striped from my uniform? Or should I consider it the natural progression of things? Hence, my original assumption- men are from Mars, and we won't ever understand.
How sad. Most of the woman I know are smart, cool, funny, beautiful and confident. What the hell? Here I am, counting the sum of recent flattery only to find it acquired by a desolate highway man and debauched been-there-done-thats. Christ. I knew The District had a slight ratio problem... and a homeless problem... but please don't tell me the Census is counting those hapless souls as part of the available single men per single women? Knowing this system, everyone counts. Like Miranda says on an early episode of Sex and The City, "I can't believe an island that small can hold all our ex boyfriends". I say, "I can't believe a city this large can hold nothing but vagrants and has-beens". Maybe that's being short-sighted. But is it?
Say men really do want these things in a companion. They want more than "that girl will do", right? I know I don't want just "that guy will do". Man, it's as if the double standard is so thick we might as well be swimming through Jello to get to the other side. Why do they get to claim such tried and true values in the fairer sex when we get immature, emotionally unavailable, possibly even mildly retarded (but adorable) dudes? How is that a fair trade?
If it is true that women are always looking for a man who is like their father, then is the same true for men? All they really want in this world is to be given the love that only a mother can give? Jesus, I surrender. I may love my Dad, but I don't really want a man like him. But I don't want a monkey either. Not to mention, last time I checked my maternal instincts haven't kicked in yet. Sigh again.
What's a girl to do?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
"Look out honey, 'cause I'm using technology/Ain't got time to make no apology..."
NPR continues to cover the great Google debate reporting on thoughts surrounding the newly developed "Google Book Search", a prospect that will allow searchers to locate full texts online (for a small fee of course).
It all started with the fact that Google didn't exactly ask permission before scanning more than 10 million books from about 40 libraries. Oops. Until settlements are reached in October, authors can still "opt out" of having their entire catalog placed online for a Google search and read, though some worry that it'll be more like taking a queue from Iggy Pop - Search and Destroy.
It's certainly up for debate though, as some consider it a necessary evil, a way to preserve literature so to speak, and in out digital age, it's not necessarily surprising. Well, maybe the whole copyright thing...
To read the whole story, and the supposed pros and cons, go to:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112484311
It all started with the fact that Google didn't exactly ask permission before scanning more than 10 million books from about 40 libraries. Oops. Until settlements are reached in October, authors can still "opt out" of having their entire catalog placed online for a Google search and read, though some worry that it'll be more like taking a queue from Iggy Pop - Search and Destroy.
It's certainly up for debate though, as some consider it a necessary evil, a way to preserve literature so to speak, and in out digital age, it's not necessarily surprising. Well, maybe the whole copyright thing...
To read the whole story, and the supposed pros and cons, go to:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112484311
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