May some of your dreams come true.
2006-12-30 7:39 p.m.

I had a dream last night that I got a big box of books from Amazon.com from the post office. When I got up this morning I tripped over a big box from Amazon. I then began to panic a little. I ran into the bedroom and ripped off all my clothes in front of the full length mirror to see if I had Harvey Birdman tattooed on my body anywhere. Thank the gods, that one was a dream. Whew.

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Kill the trees.
2006-12-30 2:56 a.m.

I arrived at work in the late afternoon, because I was busy finishing up some work at home and I also wnated to park in the company garage for free. Basically, it was just me and two other coworkers. I wanted to straighten out some things before the three day weekend, so I could quit obsessing. Even then, I may still sneak in during the holiday to do some busy work. It will make me feel better mentally to start out the new year with a clean slate and an organized desk and mind. So very zen.

As I was standing at the xerox machine wondering what it would be like to chew on that cute tech guys lips, I could hear them on the streets below. Fifteen stories in the air I could clearly hear their angry drumming, stomping and chanting. I raced to the back of the building and pressed my forehead against the glass and looked down. I could hear the hippy dippy hellcats but I couldn't see them.

I should be proud that I live in such a liberal city, a city where weekly protests of angry unwashed hippies stomping through downtown beating drums, carrying huge posterboard signs and screaming indignities happens every week. I should be. Unfortunately, I'm a selfish bitch whose only thought was: "These dorkfucks better not be walking down third and blocking my way out of the parking garage and my way home. I'm hungry, cranky and at this very moment I don't give a damn about the rights of same sex native american salmon to marry in old growth forest."* I felt guilty for about ten seconds and then went back to the xerox machine pick up my papers (most likely made from old growth forest).

* I could barely make out the chanting, it sounded like it was court related. Something about local politics. Does anyone local know?

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Me in a nutshell.
2006-12-28 1:01 a.m.

I�m the girl who�
� Will dance and sing in the aisles of Safeway when the theme of Friends starts playing over the muzac system.
� Cries uncontrollably at the end of chick flicks when the heroine gets her man, even during lame ass movies like Garden State (good soundtrack though).
� Inadvertently maces herself while trying to juggle her bag, purse, groceries and keys to get in the front door.
� Has perpetual bruises at the hip level from running into the same table corner every single frickin� day.
� Believes in karma (and boy am I owed!).
� Has long deep conversations with her cats.
� Doesn�t need an excuse to rip off her clothes and jump naked into the Puget Sound at any time of the year.
� Thinks she can sing when she�s drunk.
� Will try to make strangers laugh in the elevator.
� Suffers for fashion.
� Sleeps with weapons.
� Mixes up the fictional world with the real one.
� Wants to be kissed at midnight on New Years.
� Talks to herself in weird accents while driving.
� Loves potato chips dipped in cottage cheese.
� Uses her breasts to get her way.
� Has more books than her house can hold.
� Believes in love at first sight.
� Laughs hysterically at Shakespearian comedies.
� Makes up songs for her cats by replacing the words of pop songs with feline related words.
� Gets crushes on fictional characters.

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Burst into flames.
2006-12-26 10:21 p.m.

I just wrote a really long entry and went back and deleted it. All my blog entries are starting to look the same. It's just me whining about my health and I can't even begin to imagine that this is interesting for any of you to read. I mean, Jebus, it's not even interesting for me to write.

I spent the day being fairly lazy. I did some work which I hope will cut down on my work related anxiety attacks. I've managed to freak myself out about my job to a pitch so frenzied that I haven't slept for about four days. I go to bed and I toss and turn and obsess about my desk. I'm just terrified and it's not just my type A personality traits kicking in. There's so much more too it but I don't know what else to do but obsess and obsess and obsess and work as many hours a day as I possibly can. And pray.

When not breathing into a paper bag, I've been captivated in reading "Through a Glass Darkly" and discovered there's also a sequel out. It's already a huge book, like 700 pages or something. Trying to hold the book may be what's causing my carpal tunnel syndrome. Hmm. The writing is making me want to wear a big wig, corset and a heart shaped birth mark on my face and let me tell you, all this talk about heaving bosoms and escaping nipples is not helping my innate horniness. I really need a man. Really really. Really really really. I'm even afraid to touch myself for fear I'll burst into flames, that's how bad it's gotten. It's not a hot flash but spontaneous sexual combustion. Baby.

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Merry Retro Christmas
2006-12-25 6:22 p.m.

I was in junior high and high school during the eighties. I am the MTV generation, the MTV that played these things called music videos. Sometimes very late at night you can see one of these things on VH1 or better yet, you can now download them from the iCrack store for a nominal fee.

Growing up we didn't have cable, but I did a ton of babysitting and all my clients did. They also supplied me with Diet Coke or Tab and potato chips (once I was in high school my savvier clients kept a four pack of Bartles and James in the fridge for me). I charged two dollars an hour and an extra couple of bucks, if they stayed out past midnight (usually they came home totally smashed after the bars closed). I enjoyed taking care of the kids but the best part of my evening was getting the little monsters in bed and asleep (I have been known to set clocks ahead an hour for this purpose) so I could curl up on the couch next to the phone and drink Diet Coke, gnaw on chips and watch MTV for hours. Boobies on Showtime? Couldn't care less. R rated movies on HBO? Big freakin' deal. I wanted my MTV. I wanted to see what Martha Quinn was wearing. I wanted to drool over Kurt Loder who did the news that lasted 2 minutes tops. Other than that it was all music videos. Lots and lots of music. I knew the words to all the songs. I could do the entire choreography to Thriller. You remember Thriller don't you? It was done by Michael Jackson when he was still black and possibly liked girls. This was back when Madonna didn't have muscles and was just another blonde bimbo in layered petticoats who had the exact same appeal as Cindy Lauper. I fantasized about losing my virginity to Simon Le Bon. He was my favorite Durannie

Back in those days, I wore my hair cut short on one side and long on the other. I also wore jeans so tight I had to lay flat on my bed in order to zip them up. I had about thirty black rubber bracelets on my left wrist and a transclucent swatch watch on the right. I had four holes in my left ear and three on my right. Only two of them were done professionally, the rest were done with needles, ice cubes, potatoes and a stiff drink in my bathroom. Where is all this nostalgia coming from you ask? Well, I ran across this holiday video today (I could name all but two people, how about you?). Merry Christmas.

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