On Bad Drinks

Some of the worst drinks I've ever had have been at Chinese restaurants. In fact, my worst birthday margarita was at one. Tonight was no exception. I tried the "Plum Paradise" which sounded intriging (Plum wine with some vodka). The first sip was just fine. I like plum wine. Sadly, the second sip tasted exactly like grape cough syrup. This flavor lasted all the way through my little glass. Being a college graduate, I've learned that when life gives you shitty drinks, take big big long sips through the sippy straw.

By the end of my little glass, I was enjoying many things near me. I liked how they always bring rice when you order a noodle plate. I liked how the guy at the next table was trying to find the balance between being a serious doctor-type from California (impressive, yet dorky) and being a cool oboeist in a rock band (impressively dorky).

I liked how the people behind me were cold and assumed their food suffered the same fate. They were trying to convey (in bastardized Chinese-English) that their food was cold, not hot..but not hot like spicy hot...hot like not cold...oh wait, cold like not hot...but not really cold, just kinda warm. I then enjoyed when the word "Microwave" arrived in the exchange and how the people only wanted their food heated up by microwave if it wasn't a type of microwave that would lessen the flavor in the food. Brilliant!

My walk home was marred only by my own buzzed logic. Wondering if it was icy out, slipping on the sidewalk as an answer, and then realizing that since the high today was around 25 or so that OF COURSE IT'S ICY YOU DUMB ASS! Luckily, I managed to keep hold of my noodle and rice leftovers. Ah, the joys of being home...

An Erinku:
cheese puffs
glowing
tempting with their
false cheese gods.

On Joy

While I'm visiting my mom, I've discovered a new joy in my life: brussel sprouts. Apparently, my mom hated them growing up, but has learned how to cook them into yummy delicious goodness that I was introduced to two days ago. I am in the midst of a brussel sprout orgy. Mmmmmmm.....

An Erinku:
air in can
water in bottle
nothing I say
will be profound.

On Airports

I'm packing to go away for Christmas and my carpool ride needs to be at the airport about two hours before I do. I'm not worried because airports are good places to pace. And by pace, I mean walk from end to end to the other end and back. It's usually a few miles and makes me realize that I'm in a building that is miles long. Which is creepy as my apartment (the Hobbit Hole) is exactly 20' wide by 20' long. It's a garage and pacing doesn't work in the Hobbit Hole.

I'm also morally obligated to buy at least one trashy magazine per vacation due to a binding day job agreement. And I'll definitely want some coffee. And I'm thinking now is a good time to brush my teeth, since I'm heading out very soon and I've been up for about fifteen minutes...

Moral of today's story: I shouldn't be allowed to type/write/do dishes until I've been awake for at least an hour.

An Erinku:
oh holidays
like a train wreck
we see you coming
but we just can't stop

On Violence

At Naropa, I took the worst class in the world. It was called "20th Century Literature." While I've got two of the best quotes from random people in that class, one story about getting my ass kicked verbally (and almost physically), one event of betrayal and reading two great new-to-me-authors, some of the literature I read there has scarred me for life.

Violence seemed to be the theme for the works we read and perhaps all books written after 1950. What was awful about the books we read was that the violence was so vivid, so appalling and so pointless. By midterms, I was pretty grouchy and by finals I was ready to commit some senseless violence of my own.

The moral of today's story: my brother does NOT look like a plastic toy figurine. I just forgot to take a picture of him at Thanksgiving and needed a substitute.

An Erinku:
piles of
blankets
keep the
floor warm

On Impostors

Last night was the company holiday party. As usual, it was awesome and, as usual, I intimidated people enough that I won a gift card. As that party ended, we walked down the street to another party-to-be with Adam. Everything was grand until Adam took off and wouldn't talk to us about half an hour later. I then realized that he wasn't Adam, but some friendly guy in a knit hat that looked a LOT like Adam. I think we just randomly picked him up outside the restaurant. I spent the rest of the night wondering just where Adam had gone. Perhaps he got mixed up with the other guy's group and had many exciting adventures. Perhaps he's still at the restaurant waiting for us to come back from the bathroom. Perhaps he's pining because he didn't win a gift certificate...

An Erinku:
old fax machine
in bag on floor
to be recycled
some day

On My Magic Fingers

Yesterday, after an hour of waiting in the sub-freezing snow for a bus, big bus-like lights appeared in the distance. I made sure I had my little pass and started bopping up and down so the driver would notice something (me) that looked like a weeble-people bopping around. The bus driver failed to notice me and drove right by. Instantly, of its own accord, my mittened middle finger flew up and at the back of the bus. (or maybe gloved. I confuse the two...whichever one is funnier.) Instantly the bus stopped. Impressed by my magic middle finger, I bopped over to the bus and rode around happily all the way home.

Tonight, after bussing home, I walked from the station to home (instead of waiting for an hour for the next bus). At a busy street, I stopped and waited for the little green guy to appear on the light for me to cross. Looking both ways, I stepped into the crosswalk and was nearly flattened by a big, red truck. As my mittened magic finger was busy holding onto a big bag of presents, I started waving my bag at the guy. I was also saying "No no no, don't mind me HERE IN THE CROSSWALK!" Halfway across the street, I realized how funny that must have looked to have a weeble-people shaking a bag at a big oblivious truck. I only look like a weeble-people in winter. I blame my coat.

An Erinku:
I am down to mustard
and brown rice
for dinner.
Ug. Shopping.

On Names

One thing I've been hating lately is people who spell their name in a clever way. Like "Thom." No, your name is Tom and you need to get over it. Or "Xeri" for Sherry. I usually dig when names are spelled differently, but when I hear on the phone "I'm Sam Smith and I want to order" and I'm rudely told, "No, NOT Sam Smith! It's Shyam Smyphth!" like I'm the fucktard, I get annoyed. (Sorry to any Shyam Smyphths out there). Of course, it could be worse. They could spell Sam Smith "P-e-t-e-r-W-i-l-s-o-n."

On an unrelated note, my printer is having another panic attack and isn't sure it can print a page. Lovely how technology can replace just about anything in life.

An Erinku:
cellophane
shiny
from distance
like the sun

On Privacy

The other day, I did a cookie dance. The other day Chris recorded a cookie dance. Chris is a punk ass who puts things on-line, such as cookie dances. Chris thinks "on-line" is one word. I think that Chris can suck my butt. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sSC6VZVN8YA

An Erinku:
Snow
four inches
delays
adventures.

On Secret Santa

Every year at work we have secret santa and every single year I get people that I don't know very well / or don't know what to get them. I will often get the new person who's been there for two weeks and is wanting something wonderful for $15 or less. This year I've gotten someone awkward and have been pacing trying to figure out what to get. My ideas are dumb and this is especially a problem as I trust myself. I'm thinking a gift card, which seems like a last resort, but I've been thinking about it for two weeks and only have a few days left and still can't think of anything. Ducky suggested lotto tickets. But if they are winning tickets, I'll feel obligated to break the Santa confidentiality pact and insist that the recipient share...which would make me a bad santa. Meh, I'm trying to catch a cold too. Maybe I can get them a cold as my present and buy them $15 worth of cold-beating stuff! Gift card it is, then.

An Erinku:
a record
player
arrived today
bliss

On Too Late

There are too many cliches when it comes to customer service. The whole "customer is always right" is as wrong as cheese on cereal is wrong. Tonight, at Job 2, I had screamers leave messages about not getting holiday tickets. Apparently, job 2 stopped selling tickets on-line as of yesterday. Considering my pre-recorded messages are long enough and offer several ticket purchasing options, I was cranky about having to call the screamers back. They didn't want my other options. Bastards. Just because someone is on the other end of the phone doesn't make them less human.

An Erinku:
Up late
Another concert
Oh, yeah
I forgot!!

On Dancing

I used to take dance classes when I was little. I then grew older and very clumsy and dance just wasn't working out anymore. I will sometimes spontaneously burst into dance (much like spontaneous songs and spontaneous poetry). I did a dance this evening while eating a cookie. I seem to be overly fond of cookies currently. I even sang a little cookie song while dancing about a cookie...it's harder than it looks. I'm waiting for the next adventure to begin...I was ordered by Dana to wait for her..... ... .. and I wait.

An Erinku:
advent calendar
melted chocolate
waiting for cool nights.

On Anger

My family members have anger issues. There's always stories about how they're pissed off at someone for some such thing and on and on and blah and blah.
I've always like to think that:
1. I'm not as angry as my family
2. When I am, it's for a great reason.

Tonight, at rehearsal, I realized I'm as pissy as my next of kin. I was getting mad because the cello section sucked antelope ass. It was completely horrid. I've practiced a LOT while only having the music for two weeks. The other people in the group have played the same music each December for years and still manage to suck herbivore ass in a big way. While driving home, I started to self-doubt and played my part for Chris when I landed at home. His honest critique was that he could hear my shifts but it sounded good and in tune. Thus, he helped perpetuate my belief system and I spent time venting about how I was pissed about such and such and blah and blah. The whole hereditary thing can suck my mammalian ass.

An Erinku:
Cookie crisp
Cookie warm
Perfection in circles.