our love is weird

'Nother video. This one's Fugazi - Turnover.

Baby, you see this? This is a love letter. I miss you and can't do anything about it, so I'll listen to your music.

bad quality, good song

Sex Pistols Sunday. I want my rude-ass, punk, asshole (but not to me, no shit you think?) boyfriend back home.

I'm gonna wear his destroy shirt to bed and nothing else.

wow wow wow, underage baby

'parently I was hitting on a 19 year old from Hellay all night. And he told me I was "acting responsible for a 22 year old."

"Really, 19 year old baby?"

Because, I've been a responsible 22 year old for the past three years, why the eff are you at an older kids' party???? Huhhhh?!?!?!

And then after I told him his bedtime story and walked home, I realized I left my house keys in Rajen's car and had to call my mom to let me into my apartment. This is while I reek of nefarious substances from the wonderful band practice house party. Somebody kill me.

UPDATE: Wonderful. I love waking up to see I blogged in my sleep. I turned off the bold type and caps lock so it didn't seem like I was type-yelling at you, or myself for that matter. Also, I love how I call myself responsible one sentence before explaining how I lost my house keys. Hahahaha ... um, yikes. Not good. Well, hmmm ... maybe one day I will be able to laugh about this. Not today though. Today I will laugh about some funny, sad social tragedy that I went through in High School. P.E. memories, you never fail to amuse me :) TRAVEL TRIP posts continue later today!! Yay!

TRAVEL TRIP: Albuquerque, travel day quatro

If you are just tuning in, I like taking travel trips by myself. No, scratch that, I LOVE taking travel trips by myself. However, I am stuck at home while the boyfriend is out of town and damn it, I am going to do something about it. I will take a "travel trip" in my own current city. No, I am not doing mushrooms ... I am visiting Albuquerque with new eyes!

Thursday, February 25, 2010.

Even though I am glamorously vacationing in my own hometown, truly examining paths well worn, I must still attend to the responsibilities from regular life. One of those responsibilities comes in the form of a girl I tutor in 6th grade math on Thursdays! She's a sweetheart. I luv her, but if I don't put my foot down and act authoritative, then she tends to go cray cray and not do her homework ... which means bad grades in math ... which means no more $90 checks ... which means finding a crummy soul crushing adult job. The state of my non-existent soul rests in my ability to command attention!!! Yeesh. Can I go back to sleep?

In my mind, a sharp eyeliner pencil, high ponytail and fitted black jacket commands attention like no other. Also you gotta act cool, especially around kids. When kids become hell rats around me, I start whispering. It throws 'em off the crazy train for some reason.

PLEASE CLICK BELOW TO READ MORE :)

TRAVEL TRIP: Albuquerque, travel day tres

If you are just tuning in, I like taking travel trips by myself. No, scratch that, I LOVE taking travel trips by myself. However, I am stuck at home while the boyfriend is out of town and damn it, I am going to do something about it. I will take a "travel trip" in my own current city. No, I am not doing mushrooms ... I am visiting Albuquerque with new eyes!

Wednesday February 24, 2010

Woke up, fell out of bed, dragged a comb across my head ...

What is this, a magazine or an advertising almanac? Uhhhg, that joke sounded better in my head. There's just an unbelievable amount of ads in that thing, PLUS, it costs $6?! Hmmm. Well, if there were no overpriced Albuquerque Magazines then what would the mega rich lady read at my dentist's office? You know she's not gonna pick up a Time.

O.K.! TRAVEL TRIP: HOMETOWN EDITION ... Take Two!

Please click below to read more!

GIRL TALK: self breast exams

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

SELF BREAST EXAMS

So, ladies and guys with big boobies, how often do you do the whole self breast exam? REALLY, TELL ME THE TRUTH! I used to have this handy plastic card that hung around the shower head and basically reminded me to check myself every time I took a shower or at the very least, every month. And I am still confounded as to how I've lost it. I know I never took it off of my shower head, so either my old landlord came into my last place to steal the breast exam hanger or a plastic-eating robot from Saturn burrowed its way into my bathroom to eat it. Do you like how those are the only two options I will ever consider? NO?!

Ok, I admit that I really should do my self breast exam more often ... I think I did one in December? Damn it. I will make a promise to you out there right now if you promise me something in return. We will promise to do our breast exam and feel for lumps the next time we're in the shower and also, we will ask our moms, aunts, grandmoms and girlfriends if they are doing their monthly self breast exams. Besides, I bet this is the only way you could get away with sending your grandma a picture of boobs. I'm LOLing in real life!!!!

I mean it! I care about each and every one of your girlies out there. Let's do this!

GIRL TALK: small dogs vs. big dogs

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

SMALL DOGS vs. BIG DOGS.

Uh, I'm sorry that the opening quote and the topic combined suggest bestiality ... THAT IS NOT WHAT WE ARE TALKING ABOUT. We are talking about dogs as pets. Platonic pets.

I was raised with big dogs my whole life, so I seem to have an affinity for them. Are dog sizes like your parents' political party, I wonder? You know, you tend to align yourself with whatever environment you were raised in. Man, I bet my parents WISH I rebelled by owning a dog size that I did not grow up with. Ugh, that is the third time I ended with a preposition, SORRY! My last English class was seven years ago, ok English professor?!

ANYWAY.

I'm sort of afraid of small dogs. Like, are they going to have sharper teeth? Or will they melt if I turn the heater on too high? This is sort of why I prefer cats. They have their own agenda to tend to. (another preposition ending ... i feel nauseous.) With cats, I'm like "hey cat, do you want to snuggle me while I read a science fiction book?" and then they look at me with complete indifference. Even that time I said "HEY CAT ... CHOKING ... help ..." Complete indifference. But this is not about cats, sorry. Let's get back on topic.

OK, DOGS.

Sometimes a dog will look at me with such sad eyes, I can't help but sing a Karen Carpenter song. And that is why I don't have dogs. The end.

GIRL TALK: girly drinks

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

GIRLY DRINKS.

Have you noticed the utter rudeness between guys about their drinks? I think there is a running joke on Scrubs about Zach Braff's character liking apple-tinis and Mr. Cox drinking straight bourbon. One guy is soft and the other hard, um, is that last statement a porn or what. Also, I just noticed I typed "Mr. Cox" instead of Dr. Cox, but YOU KNOW WHAT, I AM A LITTLE BIT RUSHED RIGHT NOW. I have write, post, be dressed for a dance party within 25 minutes, I may accidentally write "one guy is soft and one guy is hard" without meaning any innuendo, alright?!

Anyway, I'd like to say that in the girl community there aren't judgments based on what you drink, but there are. I remember a country song sung by a lady a few years ago about being a "whiskey girl" or something? And I know that I always felt like a wimp when my bff, Claire, drank gin martinis and I couldn't even smell them without passing out. Why is this? I mean, I hate to sound too hippy and preach the can't we all get along mojo, but really, it is just a drink! The next time I see a guy drinking a girly drink or a girl drinking a whiskey, I will wink at them knowingly. Um, what will that even accomplish? Hmmmmmm...

I AM THE SQUARE.

Whoops. It's Thursday, huh? Damn it, I am on a fake vacation ... I CAN ONLY TAKE SO MUCH STRESS (obviously, I am kidding, blogging here is one of the more fun things in my life, but still, I am sorry. I need to remember to be more consistent here. Thank you so much for reading!)

O.K.! Get out the cheap liquor because it's time for ...

GIRL TALK ON THURSDAY!

I will be addressing topics discussed by ladies, no holds barred. Cue No Doubt and ... NOT. Put on whatever the fuck you want. I'll be typing posts as fast as I can tonight because I'm going out in an hour or so. Please feel free to comment, I promise to reply to all comments :)

Love,

Me

TRAVEL TRIP: Albuquerque, travel days uno y dos.

Monday February 22 and Tuesday February 23, 2010.

Knock, knock, knock. Can I come in? Hey, hi. Uh, can I sit down with you? I've got to talk to you about something ...

THIS TRAVEL TRIP SUCKS AND I AM LONELY! HOLD ME!!!!!!!!!!! Damn it. Damn me. Damn my dependency.

CLICK BELOW TO READ MORE (I promise it gets ... better, for lack of a better word. Agh, there were too many better's in the last sentence and it's starting to sound weird. Is "better" a real word?)

REAL LIFE: excuses, excuses!

Effing procrastination, F*CK!

Thank you, evolutionary biology (sarcasm) for adapting our brains to desire interruptions in our stream of work and thought, yet giving us guilt for desiring it, all the same. I started this damn post about twelve hundred times before doing errands, writing fb comments, playing mousey with the cats, making a cocktail, taking a bubble bath, looking up how old the RZA is, memorizing an Oasis song for karaoke, making another cocktail and watching ... Fraiser (Ew. Seemingly, I was desperate for entertainment.)

Would you like to hear my official excuses?! Of course not, but you know I'mma write it anyway:

Hello, pink valentine's day flowers! You are already dead and crispy. How ephemeral.

MY RETAHDED EXCUSES:
My computer's fried.
The cats need food and entertainment.
I have Tuesday afternoon tutoring.
I need to snap pics for the blogette.
I'm tired.
I'm depressed.
I'm lonely.
BLA BLA BLA!

What are your usual procrastination excuses?

CLICK BELOW TO READ MORE:

MUSIC: 1997 was thirteen years ago

Hi-Lo!

I'm writing a new Travel Trip post and I have a song we can listen to together while I type ...








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GIRL TALK: the essence of being a girl

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A GIRL.

Something that I like to think about when I am daydreaming are retarded gender cliches like "men are from mars, women from venus," "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" and "she moves in mysterious ways" (just kidding bout the last one, guys). Ok, so those aren't the best examples, but there seems to be a general consensus that women are "complicated" to men or that the genders are confused about each other.

I obviously can't speak for the boys, but I can say that ladies like to be complicated. And maybe that's a poor way to write it, but I'd say for the most part girls don't ever like to be "figured out" because what girl do you know has EVERYTHING FIGURED OUT?! And if she doesn't have it figured out, then why should some sleazy guy have her figured out before she does?

This reminds me of the time I took Human Sexuality for my biology minor credit. It was taught by Randy Thornhill, famous author of A Natural History of Rape. Everything can be explained through biology, which is just a fluffy variation of chemistry, anyhow (hello, dusty chemistry degree ... great, now I'm depressed).

ANYWAY.

Many "complicated" things can be explained through sex biology. It's biologically important for ladies to think extremely highly of themselves. We are enigmas. We are temples. Yes, we have a galaxy between our legs and we can never be figured out. We are gods. Pregnancy and nursing take an exorbitant amount of energy and calculation. Our bodies make babies and we must, must, must be very disconcerting about our own natures to throw off any ill-suited mate. Any boy willing to be strong enough to put up with our secrets will get a baby out of it.

Hmmmm, aaaaaaaaand every biologist in the world is spinning around in his/her grave. WHAT DO YOU THINK?! Boys, show your face.

GIRL TALK: shitty movies

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

BEING STUCK IN A SHITTY MOVIE.

Ok, obviously you're never "stuck" in a movie theater, banging the door to get out while a steaming pile of poop is being played on the screen. Sometimes, though I'm such an asshole with paying for a film that I'll stay the whole time to get my money's worth, making sure to sigh and groan loudly enough for the whole row behind me to hear. "Yes, row behind me, I HATE THIS MOVIE, but I paid $7 to see it so I'm going to stick it out to the end. If I'm going to leave early, it'll be because I'm thrown out. GROOOOOOOAAAAAN."

That is what happened tonight. Agate at the Storm was like watching a rambling soap opera written by illiterate rich kids with my eyelids being propped open a la Clockwork Orange. But, you know, what's great about being with friends is that you can take a shitty thing like a boring movie and turn it into an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000: Whatever Movie You're Watching.

GIRL TALK: going on dates with your s.o.

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

GOING ON DATES WITH YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER

Is it called a "date" if you already know intimate details about this person? I've watched him pee/examined his penis piercing. He's watched me pee/washed my dirty underwear. So, is this a date? Or is it called something else?

I suppose we can call it a "date" if we act awkward and coy and feel each other's boners in a dark theater ... Hmmm. When is a date with your long term partner not a date? Please feel free to comment below, I will reply :)

P.S. I bring up this topic because I am going on a "date" with my S.O. to the Italian Film Festival right now, as in, I have to leave in 3 seconds so my GIRL TALK posts will continue after I come back around 8:45pm MOUNTAIN TIME ZONE.

P.P.S. We will be watching Agate and the Storm, ICYWTK (in case you wanted to know).

GIRL TALK: boob sweat

Let's talk about sex, baybee! Let's talk about you and me! Let's talk about ...

boob sweat.

I can't remember if I've ever been that worried about boob sweat. When you're a lady, there are more, um, permanent stains to be fretting over. That being said, boob sweat may be a concern that exponentially increases as cup size increases.

I recently read a blog post (I'll link to it later) where a girl was complaining about being called "fat" just because she had large tits. She said she had a small waist, size 8, with 38DDD cups and there were people (read: retarded boys) out there calling her fat! I have to say, as a recent grad from B to C cup, that is a problem I WISH I HAD, but you know what, after reading about her back aches and low-hangers I'm grateful for my sweetheart boobies. They are like cupcakes compared to pineapple upside cake (wait ... what does that even mean?!) and everyone knows that most girls like to dress for other girls, not guys. Ok, this post veered from boob sweat to comparing our boobs to pastries, but THAT IS WHAT GIRL TALK IS ALL ABOUT!

P.S. Turns out boob sweat is not just a girl thing:

Don't be a square!!

Hi girls and curious boys,

Put on your cowboy boots, pocket some change from your laundry quarters bag, go to Trader Joe's/discount booze aisle at Smith's/overpriced liquor store and get a bottle of wine because it's time for a new feature ...

GIRL TALK ON THURSDAY!

Yesssssssss*

*I literally just pumped my fist in a downward motion while my elbow was bent, um, you know what I mean. WHY ISN'T THERE AN EASIER WAY TO DESCRIBE THAT MOVE?!

Anyway, we'll be talking about boobs, guys, clothes, vaginas, sex, cute dogs with bug eyes and the like. Join me!! I'll try to get the first post out about 6:00pm Mountain Time Zone. :)

SEX: pretty LAYDEES

Alright. So, you want to see nipples poking through a vinyl record? It might just be what you need to jump start your afternoon chores. NOT SO FAST! Interweb searching "nipples" + "record" + "vinyl" comes up with 8 million crummy images of homemade dominatrix suits. Count your lucky stars I found the one vintage porn (read: cute and not disturbing) photo.

Click below to

brellow, bright + yellow

Today, on this fine President's Day, I'll be rearranging the blog layout. I'm feeling pretty serious about making G la fille more accessible to the legions of possible blog readers out there. I'm going to start by changing the main post column to better fit a multiple grid of pictures, rather than what I'm doing now, which is a list of single photos and can take forever to scroll through. And since I have no idea how to program in HTML outside of increasing photo size, I will be at the mercy of a stranger's advice in the dungeon of HTML websites. I need to use 6 test photos for my picture grid idea, so I went back to 2007 and found snaps from when I was a brellow head. Ah, I almost miss touching my hair and getting a paper cut ...

ANYWAY, enjoy your day off!! Even if you don't have an off day, enjoy the afternoon. I think today is a pretty good shopping sale day. Thrift town is having a 30% sale and department stores are probs marking their chunky gold jewelery on sale, too.

And also (I already posted this statement on facebook), I watched a snake yawn yesterday and it looked like a floppy tennis shoe being stretched open from its sole, so basically the best valentine's day ever.

arts and crafty

Last night, I poured the papers from my arts and crafts box on the coffee table and we made Valentine's Day cards!

Baby: "Sniff. Sniff. Are these for me?"

Baby: "I don't care for paper cards! Please give me a sprinkle of Maui Wowie catnip instead!"

Me: "No, little cream puff, we made these cards for Marc's nieces. Now, please move out of my sunlight so I can snap photos!"

!!!!

Baby: "I can't wait for you to yell at Tiva to move out of the sunlight. Why haven't you done it yet?"

Me: "Baby, she is very old. Her life is almost over and we let her do what she wants. Please stop complaining and take a bath, crazy cat!"

Chompers: "I should be allowed in the window then, because I am older than Baby."

Sigh!

ATTENTION PEOPLE!!!!!!!

Today's the LAST DAY you can cash in on the $39 flight deal at Southwest Airlines. The big catch is that you can't travel on Fridays or Sundays and the cheapo flights are only to select cities depending on where you live. But, that ain't matta, I'm depositing my $90 tutoring check (FINALLY I'M A 90-dollars-and-2-cents-onaire!) and investigating which cities SWA flies to for 39 BUCKS!!!!!
For Albuquerque, the special applies to Lubbock, Denver, Odessa, Tucson, Phoenix, Salt Lake City, Las Vegas, and El Paso, i.e. boring, boring, barf, where?, yeah, maybe, wow, ew. That's it, I've decided! I'm going to sell some clothes and shoes and take a couple 4 day travel trips to one of these interesting* locations. I'll let you know where I go!

*"interesting" is superbly subjective. I bet a Parisian thinks El Paso is a wonderfully exotic land where pain killers are sold next to the Mexican gum.

summer blues: chug, chug, cheers

Really, this was the end of the end of the end of the end of the end.

Our night felt important, however irreverent these snaps appear. So happy and full of each other's company.

The end!