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June 30, 2002
regroup
regroup
I just took a few hours and walked around my neighborhood. First, I bought a tres chic sun hat on Melrose. Then I stumbled on one of those hot, windowless used book stores with narrow isles and shelves rising up to the ceiling. I lingered in there until I sweat off a few pounds and found two hardcover Woody Allen books that I used to own. Somewhere along the way these prized books were loaned out and not returned. I lounged around the neighborhood coffee house thinking and sipping iced coffee with a shot of vanilla. Something about that bookstore inspired me to resume working on my own book -- so that someday someone might discover it in a dusty used bookstore and purchase it for a dollar.
If I had a cooler looking laptop, I would have brought it to the coffee house and tried to make some progress on my book. During my regrouping this afternoon I've decided tonight to take the thing offline and actually write without distraction for a bit. Unfortunately, the fruits of my labor will not be shared here, as writing on the web is both a benefit and a liability. But I'll try to get another journal entry out as well.
Posted by Moxie at 12:37 AM
June 29, 2002
the beginning of a beautiful relationship | new neighbors
the beginning of a beautiful relationship | new neighbors
"Yeah, we're going to live out here on the patio"
"Go get a six pack of that shit 'she' likes, the sky vodka sissy crap"
"Okay. What do you want?"
"For her to get some taste"
"No asshole, to drink"
"Beer, dickhead"
When I first moved in two months ago, my friendly neighbors greeted me warmly. They introduced themselves, told me how my landlord had said such nice things about me. My landlord was over this afternoon. I don't mind, he's cool and we talked about getting me set up with his brother the doctor, heard about his new home purchase, and his first child due to be born in early August. I really like my landlord, he's cool as shit. So imagine my distress upon hearing that he "wasn't too excited" about the new tenants. "I wouldn't have chosen them," he said. Well who the f*ck chose them then, YOU own the building! "Except that I had to get the place occupied as soon as possible." Okay fine. "They're boyfriend and girlfriend, I don't give the relationship more than six months." It's exactly this kind of insight that gives me confidence in his proposed set up.
My new next door neighbors. Not even my landlord is excited about having them "onboard."
After two months of renovations, the happy couple has moved in, and I don't like them. I can't extend the same welcome that was extended to me. And it makes me feel like a jerk. Moments ago, they (Couple + a guy friend) were outside on the patio, when the aforementioned conversation was overheard. I'm in my office. The windows are closed. They're loud already. Since I lurk here in Chateau Slade solo, and only talk to the cats it's difficult for me to lead by example. It will be some time before they realize that they have a neighbor and I can hear every word they utter.
Yes, every word. Even when he's talking shit about his own girlfriend. I give them four months.
Posted by Moxie at 5:57 PM
you have to get to know him
you have to get to know him
"Maddie, you have to get to know him, he's such a terrific guy. That and he expressed some interest in you."
So finally, at a party last night that was what I set out to do. I need a terrific guy. As usual in my life, things never go as planned. I flirted, he flirted and another partgoer, a dimwitted woman flirted with him. She brutually insulted me at least four times in a 2 minute span. He chuckled and was oblivious to the unacceptable catty behavior. First strike. He played the game of openly flirting with both of us, which only egged her on, and caused me to retreat and forfeit from the silly unwanted competition. Strike two.
I like to have women friends. I don't compete with other women. Though I could have shot off a neverending stream of insults that would have resulted in tears, I took the high road. From the high road, I watched her rubbing her boobs against him, I watched her scowl when he'd flirt with me, or other women at the party. I could see the evil and jealousy in her eyes each time she looked at me and I was insulted countless other times and resisted the urge to fire back. They disapeared, high school style for about an hour. Strike three.
The funny thing? He's not even a good looking guy, and after I got to know him "better" I discovered he's not a terrific guy, either. A terrific guy wouldn't have let the unprovoked insults continue. A terrific guy wouldn't have tried to pit two women against each other. A terrific guy would have been able to distinguish between crass and class. A terrific guy would have noticed that I'm also terrific. Yes, this is the same guy who's afraid to date me lest he end up a story on my website. Well congratulations and thank you for the story B, this is it.
Posted by Moxie at 1:47 PM
June 27, 2002
i may never be | as cool as thee
i may never be | as cool as thee
I may never be as cool as my most-favorite-tony-who-blogs, with his flow a brotha a buck so he can buy a car fund, but I am currently the number ONE result for green pantyhose on google. I've beat out 34,600 other sites to hold this honor. And damn it, I'm going to celebrate the little victories. Why? Because I had a bad night.
There was a reluctant date this evening with Champagne Brunch Guy. Before we had even reached the little neighborhood restaurant, the place where *everyone* hangs out, the place where the owner comes to your table 30 times to make sure you're happy, CBG tried to hold my hand.
I'd have none of that, in fact it made me want to vomit so I promptly decided it was time to smoke a cigarette in order to free up my hand which was currently being held hostage in his clammy palm. At least that would deter him from trying to kiss me later. I could tell this date was going to be a tough one, so after he began telling me how his shrink advised him to make a list of all the good and the bad things about a girl after the first few dates I figured out my plan. And a good one at that. The obvious outs always are the best option.
I began talking smack. My "drug" habit, my 4 pack a day cigarette smoking, my desire to be a single mother of 6 kids, my Indian man fettish, oh heck the gefiltefish fettish. I told him I had a crush on George W. Bush, and that I thought Donald Rumsfeld was a hottay. I went on and on about how I'd cheat on my husband, how I'd like to become Amish someday, that I planned to shave my head bald next week, and that all three of my Aunts were wiccan's who'd cast spells to have any man castrated who dared not pay for my dinner.
Hell, I was having a great time making up these outlandish things. I almost liked him for a second for sitting there there nodding and smiling like he still wanted to hold my hand. He still insisted on a hug at the end of the night. Ugh, I could tell he was a little "excited" by my talk of made up negative traits. It was the worst free meal I've ever had in my life. I'm too nice, if only I knew how to say "no way!" to a date without thinking, "well maybe that was the guy for you. You just needed to give him another chance."
There must be a better way to find a good guy...according to CNN, my chances aren't good now that I'm 3,000 years old.
Posted by Moxie at 11:58 PM
something about me
something about me
There's something about me that makes other people like to call here early in the morning. This morning My Exotic Stranger called at 8:30 AM. I don't know him well enough to chew his head off for waking me so, half asleep I listened to his message which was playing down the hall in my office. It went something like this...
"Luuuucy, I'm going down to the club."
"I'll pick up Little Ricky later. But then I want to talk to you, cos--you got some s'plainin' to do..."
Well, at least that's what I thought I heard. I fell back asleep and dreamed of Ricky Riccardo singing Babaloo. Later, when I was more coherent, I replayed the message only to discover the content was nothing that I thought I heard, but the accent....oh yeah. My very own Desi. Ironic, as he asked me the other day if he and his friends had inspired me to do any writing on my site.
"No," I lied.
Posted by Moxie at 6:51 PM
June 26, 2002
unconstitutional, my ass
unconstitutional, my ass
I had to check the calendar after reading all the stories today. I was pretty sure it was the end of June, and not April 1st. Our country's pledge of alliance is ruled unconstitutional. Perhaps, next month it'll be the constitution that's determined to be unconstitutional. And the month after that the flag will have to be redesigned because stars, and the color blue are both loosely associated with the "heavens" and indirectly the big man in the sky. Hey, I'm an aetheist. Have been for a long time. The pledge has never bothered me. It's no different than singing songs about Santa Claus with a child who believes in him.
How is it that no one has caught this "huge mistake" before now? So suddenly, one judge in San Francisco is saying, "Oops! Our country screwed this one up." I guess he's just that much smarter than the folks who've lived and governed the US for oh say, the last 120 years that the POA has existed. God bless him, the god damn genius!
Posted by Moxie at 8:20 PM
a bunch of vegans
a bunch of vegans
Suspicious about the uncooked broccoli I found on my floor this morning, I opened a jar of carrot baby food left over from a previous visit when my cousin was much smaller. I hid around the corner, but the cats just looked at me curiously. I got tired of my sneaky experiment and went to hock some silver so I could buy them some pricey wet cat food. When I returned, the entire jar of mushed carrots was gone. Neither one would fess up to having their 3 daily servings of vegetables in one sitting. I also noticed that they neatly placed the empty jar in the recycling bin. Damn tree huggers.
I should have suspected their vegan leanings, I did catch both of them gouging themselves on cilantro and basil from my herb garden. I'll have to guard my developing tomatoes and red peppers more carefully.
Posted by Moxie at 6:15 PM
still groggy
still groggy
There's a piece of uncooked broccoli on the floor here in my office. I have no idea how it got there. Really, there are only two logical options. 1) I was eating in my sleep which is a distinct possibility as I often forget to eat when I'm awake or 2) Bentley went down to the fridge last night to fix himself a snack. He never cleans up after himself.
Last night. Champagne Brunch Guy called on my cell phone, and before I hung up My Exotic Stranger called on the land line. I felt like a hoochie mama, especially when MES revealed that he's waiting to get his visa. Not as in a plastic card used to buy things you can't really afford, but as in so he can be in this country legally. But I digress.
You see how this works, guys? There's an inherent phone hierarchy. It's been carefully measured out. My cell phone is almost never answered, charged or even left with the power turned on. I gave that number to CBG. I never have to talk long because the line is full of static thanks to my fine cell provider, AT&T. The land line, however, is a step above. I still have the protective layer of the caller ID screen, but if I want to talk to him it's easy enough.
Which leads to the third thing. Private numbers and out of area callers. I've learned never to answer either phone for those. No caller ID no talkie.
Posted by Moxie at 11:33 AM
June 25, 2002
ass backwards
ass backwards
"How much did you love him ?" he asked. I took the challenge and thought long and hard about his question.
"I loved him so much... I would have wiped his ass for him," I replied.
"But you hate poo. Ewwwww, I'd never wipe my girlfriend's ass.
"Sure you would. If you loved her. And she needed you to...."
"I guess I've never loved someone like you did."
"No, perhaps she never needed you to do something like that. What if she was old and wearing depends?"
"You talk about asses a lot," he pointed out. Sure I do. I can admit that.
"But you didn't answer my question"
"I guess I'd hire a nurse."
How much have you loved someone? (past or present)
Posted by Moxie at 11:53 AM
June 24, 2002
why june brings forth a deluge
why june brings forth a deluge
Moxie has been turning into a dating blog as of late. But I'm not the only one who's been dating a lot. It seems the month of June, much like the feverish frenzy that preceeds Valentine's day, provides a rush in dating prospects. Why, I asked myself? As per usual, I ignored my own question and never answered it.
I've heard other theories, and this time forced myself to come up with a few of my own:
1) The perfect accessory for the beach is not a sarong. It's an attractive mate.
2) A cold beer on a hot day just tastes better when some woman you picked up at a bar opened it for you.
3) It's not the "shimmery summer makeup" you bought 'cause you saw it in a magazine. It's the fact that it's hot and you're wearing less clothes.
4) Lots of forward thinking folks start buying Christmas presents during the summer. Now's the time to locate your date for New Year's Eve, while there's still "merchandise" on the shelf.
5) Some of us are always looking. Statistically speaking there's always bound to be some heavy rain after many months of drought.
Whatever it is, I hope it lasts until I find a good one.
Posted by Moxie at 1:59 PM
June 23, 2002
wanted: handsome men with fabulous accents
wanted: handsome men with fabulous accents
If you happen to be a single woman in LA and in want of a single man with an exotic accent, Sky Bar is the place for you. Saturday night, my friend and I were out on the town and ended up meeting a few guys from a group of what seemed like 40 friends. They introduced us to others from their cadre and each one had an even more intriguiing accent than the last. My friend and I tried to guess the origins of each.
One particularly tall, intelligent and gorgous man was soft spoken, his musical accent was rich with what we thought a native French tongue. Or something European.
"French?"
"no."
"French Canadian?"
"no"
"Belgian?"
"Swiss?"
"Tahitian?"
"no, no no."
We gave up and he laughed revealing both his dimples and his heritage. He was Israeli. My friend elbowed me and said to the group, "Maddie has a thing for Jewish guys!" What was I to do?
I did what any other girl would do, and I talked with the perfect man. He eventually disapeared and another great guy with an exotic accent stood beside me, doting after my every need the rest of the night. When I disapeared to use the bathroom I was told he asked my friend where his future wife had gone. Having a little fun she said,
"You know, Maddie's hands are long and thin. For a wedding ring to look really good, you'll need to get her at *least* a carat and a half..." {you gotta love a friend with your best interests at heart!}
"Oh, I was already thinking two carats. Maybe three"
"Have you chosen a cut? I may be able to help you out in that department."
"I think it would have to be a princess cut."
And so the conversation continued until I returned and my hands were inspected. It was quite an amusing and fun evening. And eventually the handsome Israeli stranger returned, demanding to know where he could find my web site and offered me his business card. My "future husband" protectively put his arms around me and gave him a "mister, you're about 2 hours too late" look. Lesson? If you play too hard to get, you just might not get anything at all.
I'd write more, but some of the folks figured out where to find my home on the web. So I'll have to be tight lipped about the rest in case they remember to check....
Posted by Moxie at 11:49 PM
June 22, 2002
Dear Ann Landers
Dear Ann Landers
Why did you have to go so soon?
There were a few questions I'd been meaning to ask you. I know, I sound like a proscrastinator. I am. But I've been sad. Okay, I hear you -- I should enjoy the things I do have and not take anything for granted. You're right, as always.
I suppose your written voice and wisdom will live on in our minds.
Best,
~Maddie
Posted by Moxie at 5:49 PM
June 21, 2002
i'm not happy about it
i'm not happy about it
But Champagne Brunch guy called last night. True to form he had all kinds of fabulous ideas for this weekend involving jazz, museums and a funky bar downtown. I never go to hang out downtown but I like it.
I had hoped he sensed my lack of interest. I had hoped some other woman had the good sense to look past his appearance and snatched him up as her own. I'd hoped I'd never hear from him again, so I could avoid the awkward.
No such luck.
Being a spontaneous person by nature, I rarely make plans in advance. Even though I don't have any social outings scheduled until the Sunday dice game Saturday evening. I'll have to rely on the, "oh shoot, I've already made plans for the weekend" thing. Part of me feels that a date request should be made futher in advance. If only so that the guy shows you indirectly, "hey I think you're desireable, and I assume there are lots of other people vying for your time."
But I guess I'm just old fashioned that way.
Posted by Moxie at 1:43 PM
June 20, 2002
life after conan
life after conan
I know he wants me. Bad. He told me so last night, in his special "I just did a LOT of coke" manner. I was about to turn off the teevee when he said in that smug, cocky son-of-a-biatch voice; "Wait! I'm on next."
"Okay, Carson but aren't you in NY right now?"
"I'm omnipresent, Maddie." {crooked smile}
"You want me, Carson. You need me. We're perfect for each other."
"Hang on, I'm about to announce the guest. Look how cute I am!"
"Yes Carson, you're very cute. A frequent know-it-all and at times purely obnoxius. Just how I like my men."
"I need the ratings right now. Hence my personal visit to the home of every single woman in America. Yes, of course I want you."
"I knew it. I can see it the way you look at me through the teevee."
"Can you see me now?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"I knew you were going to say that."
"I want you to watch my show with me. I'm SO clever. You can forget about model man. You've got ME most nights."
"I always watch your show."
"No you don't. Your [sic] only watching because Dan recently pointed out that I come on after Conan"
"That's true, I didn't think there was life after Conan."
"The best is always saved for last."
So I watched the pretty boy. And I liked it.
Not really, but I'll still probably watch it tonight. Another effective sleep aid.
Posted by Moxie at 11:16 PM
summer hair | girl talk
summer hair | girl talk
It's almost summer, the best time of year to be blonde. This mop hasn't been highlighted since December, so it's long overdue. Unfortunately, I can't get my hair highlighted professionally because *gasp* they'll forceably take scissors to my head. My hair has not been cut in 11 1/2 months, last cut was just before leaving on my month long trip abroad. I still have no plans to cut it in the immediate future. I think it has to do with letting go of the past. Someone suggested that I casually mention that I'm a member of the Pentecostal church, where it is ungodly to cut a woman's hair. And that I didn't want to face the firey depths of hell just so that they can charge me 70 bucks plus tip for a trim I didn't want.
Instead I just decided to color my hair myself. Nothing drastic.
They stopped making the color I used to use and well, my hair is somewhere between strawberry blonde, and cheetos orange. Time to head back to the store. There's only one option left. And I kind of like it.
Platinum.
A few years ago, I was a home-dyed platinum blonde. Things were good for me. I'll keep you posted. I guess this means I'm not going goth afterall ;)
Posted by Moxie at 2:34 PM | Comments (1)
no sleep for me
no sleep for me
I'm in a shitty mood. If I were 16, I'd add one of those graphic "I'm feeling... " lines to my blog. I'd find the sadest "smilie" I could -- a huge frown with a tongue sticking out, and one evil eye. Maybe even an eye patch. Earlier this evening I fell asleep while watching one of those courtroom news programs. You know the ones where the producers lead you down one path only to reveal at the end that the suspect is a living saint who donates all his money to charity and pets bunnies in the park. So now I can't get to sleep and I'm sad and cranky.
It's times like this I wish my blog was called "Up Yours," or "Drowning in a Pool of Depression" or "Fuck Everyone Who's Ever Hurt Me." Yup, that would be cool. The entire page would be black, and I'd have all kinds of grotesque, morbid photos down the left hand side of the page. I'd ramble on and on about how much I hurt inside, and use a lot of swear words. FEWHE would extoll the virtues of never opening yourself up to be hurt, it would disprove that love exists, and berate those who watch romantic comedies while eating jujubes. Angst ridden, I'd mope around the house, oh wait I already do that. Okay so I'd mope around the house shouting obscenities at the walls and doorknobs. I'd have nothing good to say about the world. I'd eat cheetos for every meal and never brush my teeth. That would be really cool.
But lucky for you, this blog is not called "Fuck Everyone Who's Ever Hurt Me." At least not yet!
Posted by Moxie at 12:53 AM
June 19, 2002
more | a conversation with phoebe
more | a conversation with phoebe
P=phoebe M=maddie
P: Do you love me?
M: Yes I do, but I’d love you more if you kept your ass out of my face.
P: What’s wrong with my ass?
M: Nothing, except that you never clean it.
P: Hey, I can’t reach back there.
M: I’ve noticed.
P: So what, you sit and watch me try and do nothing to help?
M: I’ve thought about wadding up some toilet paper, but the yuck factor is too high.
P: Why the fascination with my butt?
M: If my ass was in your face 20 times an hour you’d understand my concern.
P: You can put your ass in my face.
M: No thank you. I have better things to do
P: Well so do I….
M: Like what?
P: Uh oh, are you challenging me?
M: No.
P: I didn’t think so
P: So how about a kitty bidet?
M: I’ll add it to my miles long list of things to buy
Posted by Moxie at 7:05 PM
a model citizen?
a model citizen?
Model man stopped by last night. Drunk as a skunk. I wasn't impressed but the cats loved him. This should be no surprise, they probably thought they could get some home brewing tips. So we sat on the steps and talked until the crazy lady next door started yelling, "stop whispering out there, I'm trying to get some sleep!"
I'm from the school of thought that finds it very sexy if a man knows when to stop drinking. Afterall, it's not very manly when a guy can't walk in a straight line. He did ask me out on a date, to which I reluctantly answered yes. It'll be interesting to see if he remembers this at all.
Posted by Moxie at 12:06 PM
June 18, 2002
a dirty job
Moxie is steam cleaning the carpets, so instead of her usual tripe here's an exclusive interview with Phoebe
Q: Tell me about a typical day
A: Do you know who you're interviewing here?
Q: I'm supposed to be asking the questions.
A: That wasn't a question.
Q: Okay then, what are your earliest memories?
A: Creeping through some brush on the border so I could slip into Mexico to buy myself some cheap tecquila.
Q: Do you drink much?
A: Not anymore, my Mom doesn't leave much for me. Bentley and I are trying to install a still in the litter box. We found a great recipe for moonshine on the internet.
Q: What are your predictions for the stock market and economy?
A: Things are sluggish right now, but overall I'm bearish on the market. I monitor the S&P closely and buy and sell accordingly
Q: How do you manage that?
A: I hijacked my Mom's eTrade account. Bentley is my financial advisor and we've diversified her portfolio.
Q: Did David Westerfield kill Danielle van Dam?
A: I'd like to talk about that, but my attorney has advised me against it. I can say that I slept with Damon van Dam on only one occasion.
Q: Are you reading anything interesting currently?
A: I completed Fear and Trembling by Kierkegaard this morning before my nap
Q: That's pretty heavy reading
A: Maybe for you
Q: What are your thoughts on Watergate?
A: I know the identity of Deep Throat
Q: I thought you might. What are your plans for this evening?
A: Writing up a report for JAMA. I've discovered the cure for Lou Gehrig's disease
Q: In your litter box?
A: Where else can I go to get my work done?
Q: A lot goes on in that little box.
A: Don't get me started, I promised Bentley that I wouldn't reveal too much about the air fueled jumbo jet we're building in there. We're about to revolutionize the aviation industry.
Q: Well, we're out of time. Thank you for being so candid with us
A: No problem. It's my pleasure to enlighten you big bare-skinned people.
{Phoebe will be accepting your questions/comments below for a limited time only}
Posted by Moxie at 5:00 PM | Comments (1)
now it gets interesting | when it rains it pours
now it gets interesting | when it rains it pours
My doorbell rang at 10 PM last night. It was my neighbor inviting me over for frozen margaritas. It was a hot and sticky night and I welcomed the unexpected diversion. Of course, I looked a mess but quickly put a comb through my hair before heading next door in my black tank top, adidas running pants and sneakers.
Four of my neighbors and a mysterious stranger greeted me. "Maddie, this is a friend of ours from Barcelona." He looked terribly familiar and I was puzzled about the Spanish thing -- he had no accent and looked midwestern/corn fed. Turns out he was from the midwest. He's been living in Europe working as a model for some names even Rubin would recognize.
Early on, during a lively group conversation he quietly moved the tall lit candlestick that was blocking our view of each other and placed it so that it obstructed his view of the others instead. I tried not to notice. My neighbor pulled me outside a bit later and indicated that he was single, a total sweetheart, had been dating awful women, and that he was moving here. "Oh God, I doubt he'd be interested in me," I said somewhat shocked at her allusion. "Oh yes, he is. I want to set you up!"
I'm not typically impressed by ravishing good looks, but he was so well spoken, funny and well, yea handsome. When the stray cat in my neighborhood came to the door and he picked her up and talked baby talk to her I discovered he's also a cat lover. A very rare but desireable trait in men, I've found. A few minutes ago, I said my goodnights, and he looked me squarely in the eyes and said, "I really hope we'll see each other again, Maddie."
"Yes, I'd like that. You know where to find me ;)"
That is, if he's still interested in "slumming it" after the moment has passed ;)
Posted by Moxie at 1:11 AM
June 17, 2002
rubin | the prognosticator
rubin | the prognosticator
Anyone who lives in a big city has a vagrant tale to tell. Had I been writing this online journal 12 years ago, mine would include the repeated antics of a homeless woman in Manhattan who would try to get in my cab with me every night after ballet class.
Fortunately, here in LA we have even more colorful characters. His accent is unmistakable. He'a a New Yorker. How he ended up on this left coast corner is beyond even my imagination. I’ve never asked his name, but I’ll call him Rubin.
Rubin: Do you have any change to spare, young lady?
Me: No!
Rubin: Okay, God bless you and don’t forget to have your pets spayed and neutered.
Rubin disappeared for what seems like only a few weeks. Last night I saw him again, outside the Ralph’s. Though he still screams of the Big Apple and Judaica, he’s suddenly wearing a long white Islam style beard and makeshift t-shirt turban.
Rubin: Do you have any change to spare, Miss?
Me: No!
Rubin: May Allah bless you Ma’am, please make sure you have your children vaccinated annually. And watch out, lice seems to be running rampant in the Hollywood middle schools.
I overheard Rubin tell the guy leaving the store behind me to be sure to brush and floss, as tooth decay can be spread through kissing. If I were the paranoid sort, I’d be suspicious of his ominous warnings and predictions.
Look at Padilla, the dirty bomb suspect. A few years ago he was flashing the gang sign in the windy city, and now he's wearing the 24 carat "I *heart* OBL" lapel pin with a stamp from Afghanistan in his passport.
Posted by Moxie at 4:05 PM
June 16, 2002
the date | champagne brunch
the date | champagne brunch
It began when he ran around to open the door of his classic car for me. A few minutes later we valet parked the car and sat down in the wicker chairs in a warm but pleasant room of the sunny craftsman style house. Immediately he ordered two glasses of champagne, two coffees, and two glasses of still water without consultation. The menu was amazing, but since I've previously ranted about those who blather on and on about the food that ends up in the toilet, I'll spare you the details. Damn it, and I promised no more entries alluding to poo.
Anyway, back to the date. It was wonderful. Everything my matchmaking neighbor had promised. The best part was, when I offered to help with the bill, I didn't hear, "Your half is 50 dollars." Now that's my kind of man! He did afterall ask me out. Why guys I've dated for 2+ years never treated me this nicely for brunch, I'll never know.
Posted by Moxie at 11:15 PM
June 15, 2002
the unthinkable
the unthinkable
Yes, it's true. I have a brunch date tomorrow. My "new" neighborhood has proven to be a good source for dating. Of course, I've seen him....he's not my type, not even if I take my glasses off and squint. But I've got to start somewhere, right? I ceased returning YHITD's calls. My soul mate picked up an impulse wife, and I'm tired of cuddling with the kitties. Sleeping alone sucks.
My problem is that I'm far too particular now. Two months back I met another Cornell grad, who was smitten with me. I couldn't get past the goiter-like growth on his neck. Otherwise, he was handsome, charming and intelligent. I gave him my number, not the correct one of course. I still have his business card, and when it turns up I wonder if requesting surgery is too much to ask in exchange for a date with me. Having nursed someone through 10+ surgeries (not ones I requested!), I'd be a first class nurse during the recovery period.
This being particular is a result of already having my share of 'winners;' folks with rare skin diseases, a guy who was legally deaf (his hearing aid would audibly buzz when he got near my front door), a rapist, an almost rapist, an effeminate man who was thinner than I am, an alcoholic, a drug addict, a cheapskate, a liar, a high school drop out. Oh then there was the guy with the twitch, and the one who had so much body hair, I thought it was a furry t-shirt and almost asked where he got it.
Well since I'm on the subject, I can't forget about the guy who didn't want me to dress nicely, or put on even a bit of lipstick, the one who slept with my roommate, the sun worshipper with scaly skin, or the obese one.
I'm off to play dice with my favorite group of friends. Oh, one of them revealed that he'd be afraid to date me, lest he end up a story on my website. Yes, that's right, treat me right or be afraid. Be very afraid!
Posted by Moxie at 5:29 PM
saturday so far
saturday so far
It shouldn't have amused me, but I secretly enjoyed that Al Gore got groped at the airport. Twice. Surely, this indicates that the random screening process isn't effective. Perhaps there was an Al Queda associate who also chuckled as he breezed through security and saw the former VP's undergutchies. I hate myself for wondering; boxers or briefs?
The fact that a member of Hanson recently got married is proof positive that there's someone out there for everyone. Or maybe it indicates that Mmmmm bop was a forgiveable crime of the 1990's afterall. But somehow I don't think so.
This afternoon, I got around to checking my email. There is a certain mailing list of local social events. Most of them aren't my style, but as I know the owner of the list professionally I couldn't bring myself to say no to her. I'm too nice. So back to me checking my email. I have no less than 50+ emails in my inbox. It seems the list was hijacked, a spam sent and then everybody and his uncle decided to reply to the entire list in order to unsubscribe.
Delightful. Here's a sampling:
"I DON'T KNOW WHO ANY OF YOU ARE. BUT, I KNOW THAT I HATE YOU ALL.
ENOUGH WITH THIS SHIT ALREADY!"
"We are all on a virus, and I wonder if it infected {name withheld}'s otherwise
very helpful notification list."
"Unsubscribe me. NOW."
"This must be a new virus. Back up your hard drives fast!"
"Why are you sending me your unsubscribe requests, I don't own this list"
Nothing like a list of digitally ignorant folks who don't know to look at the To: field. Because if they did, they'd see why these requests, outbursts, and brilliant virus theories were being sent to the hundred+ people on the list. They are replying to the entire list. Sheesh.
Posted by Moxie at 1:16 AM
June 14, 2002
insulting movie physics
insulting movie physics
I happen to love sites like this one, which outline the typical movie events which defy physics in reality. During action flicks I have to admit, I end up giggling, "why doesn't he ever have to reload his gun?" or "how did he just fall through a window and come out without a scratch?"
Sure, action movies *have* to defy physics in order to appear dramatic and the viewers need to generously use the suspension of disbelief concept. I like the new trend in TV shows and movies filmed in "real time." I think a great new trend would be action heros who actually have to reload their guns, get cut when they fall through glass or witness an explosion in outer space that makes no sound. It might not be as exciting, but at least we'd be teaching our kids something real.
There's also lots of other great stuff on this website, like how to count to 1,023 on your fingers and amazing applications of probability if you happen to be sitting home this fine Friday night ;)
Posted by Moxie at 6:10 PM | Comments (1)
June 13, 2002
threepeat
threepeat
It was no suprise. Neither was the Kobe Bryant/Byron Scott hug. There's history between them. They're both a class act.
Hey, the guys were a shoo in for the title but during the last few rounds of interviews never showed a sign of cockiness. They played hard in the second half of every game, and made it happen.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't know if there are finer role models out there. I ran into a man in the Ralph's who started talking to me about his student. a 7'3 high school senior, a fine basketball player with no interest in education. He was taking him to watch one of the playoff games, hoping to point out how intelligence and education has played a part in most of the Laker's success stories. I think it's obvious, who knows if they can tell you what 56 divided by 4 is, but they speak eloquently, graciously and think on thier feet. That's half the battle.
Posted by Moxie at 1:10 AM
June 11, 2002
writer/editor needed @unemplyed rabbi's prices
writer/editor needed @unemplyed rabbi's prices
That headline on Craig's list has got me wondering if God is downsizing.
Posted by Moxie at 1:43 PM
June 10, 2002
something about summertime
I'm not sure what it is, perhaps the gentle hum of the ceiling fan, or the smell my tomato plants leave on my hands...summer always reminds me of my Grandma. I was incredibly tight with my Gramma. She spent summers with us when I was a kid, and we played scrabble and figured out word puzzles together late into the night. Usually around Labor Day we would go to visit her, and her home relied on fans of all sorts to beat the heat and humidity. The sound still soothes.
Gramma was the one who would call me out of the blue saying, "I thought something was wrong." And something always was going wrong for me when she called. She just knew. She was my only ally against my Mum during the turbulent teenage years. Gram was also the anglophile of the family. Folks always ask me why everyone in my large extended family refers to our mothers as "Mum." It started with Gram.
When she passed away December 8th, 1998, I was lying on the floor in my apartment when my Mum told me over the phone. I pounded my fists into the ground screaming, "no, no, NO!" A day or two later I had a ticket to fly back east for her viewing and funeral. I had my suitcase packed. A friend was scheduled to watch my cat. Someone called a cab for me, in fact it was on its way -- but I knew I couldn't go and my heart was palpitating. I had seen her in September. We went to the grocery store and I smiled and waved to all her friends while pushing her cart as she told them proudly, this was her granddaughter from California. We had picked fresh herbs and vegetables in her sprawling garden. She helped me stir up my favorite marinade for swordfish, which we grilled outside for a family gathering. We walked through her gardens and looked at her flowers. We talked about boys.
At 26, I still wanted to sleep in her bed with her, and hear the intricate and well-crafted bedtime stories she made up on the fly. Those stories would go on miraculously, until the last sleepless grandchild had drifted off. Some nights there would be 5 or 6 of us sleeping in her room with her. We all wanted to be near her as much as possible. This was the way I wanted to remember her. And I knew it was okay not to go. I've never regretted it. I had better memories.
The family is still tightlipped. No one talks about her. I think its wrong. Sure, they'll fight over who gets her china, or furniture, but nothing more. Long ago, the "firsts" passed, and the "seconds" and so on. I guess everyone heals at a different pace, but I was the first of a family of more than 20 to be able to enjoy and talk about my plentiful memories of her. Perhaps it's only because I'm the sole family member with last memories of her living and enjoying life.
So much of who she was has made me who I am today. She was the one who passed her love of books, and especially writing along through two generations. As much as I'd like to consider myself a writer, this story can never do her justice, damn it! When they were cleaning out her room, my Mother found a story in one of her drawers that she had begun to write about me, and tucked it into her purse. It's up to me to finish the story now. I guess it always was mine to complete.
My Mom and Grandma were both huge readers. Reading was a vacation luxury that everyone was encouraged to enjoy. Every summer my Gramma would ask how many books I read. Usually, the number exceeded 30, and she'd ask me to tell her about my favorite.
It's mid June and I haven't even read one book this summer. But every night, I leave the fan on, close my eyes and somehow it's just like being ten again falling asleep in her bed while listening to her stories. I can still hear her voice, but only if the fan is left running.
Posted by Moxie at 3:20 AM
how hollywood works | a direct path to the dictionary
how hollywood works | a direct path to the dictionary
Here's a script I bet drove most hollywood folks, even the senior guys with receeding gray hairs to a dictionary before agreeing to produce;The Road to Perdition.
Hollywood Bigwig #1: "Wow, hey, grab my dictionary, will you... what's that? Per....diction? We can spout all kinds of useless facts about the director's life, but we don't know WTF the title means!"
Hollywood Bigwig #2: " Damn it, that's the draw, Bigwig number 1!"
Hollywood Bigwig #1: "You're right! If *we* don't know what it means, lots of folks will see it because it's from the American Beauty guy (what's his name, again?), and also because the title sounds intellectual to the ignorant masses, like us."
Hollywood Bigwig #2: "That's brilliant Bigwig #1, dumb guys all over the world will take their girlfriends to see it just so that they seem smart. Dumb guys all over America will be having the sex we wish we could have because of this film!"
Hollywood Bigwig #1: "Yeah! If only we weren't married to women we can't stand, we'd be having all this sex too. There will be a perdishious baby boom, and an American population with a better vocabulary as a result!"
Hollywood Bigwig #2:" Reality check, Bigwig #1, you haven't seen the script or looked up "perdicton" yet...."
Hollywood Bigwig #1 "The dictionary is for the weak! We're financing this film. It's going to be a blockbuster! "Per dick on" will hit the masses this summer! "
American Beauty was an instant classic, but I guess we'll just have to wait until July 12th to see if success breeds success....
I sure hope so, I have huge expectations. And if the guy thing works out as outlined above....though I prefer one who knows what perdition means, it's all good.
Posted by Moxie at 1:01 AM
June 8, 2002
Jennifer Lopez splits with husband
My satirical take on the news
NEW YORK, June 7 - J.Lo is "soul low" again. Jennifer Lopez and her impulse-husband, Cris Judd, have separated, a moxie source confirmed on Friday. The source said the pair parted amicably without any significant fingernail scratches, or hair-pulling and desire immediate plans for divorce.
A Lopez spokeswoman declined to confirm or deny the split but said, "Cris is just crazee, we're talking about J.Lo. She's all that now, you know. Hee, I rhymed!" Secretly, Moxie reporters wondered how many heterosexual men choose to spell Chris in this manner. The 31-year-old actress-singer married Judd, 32, in a super private goth ceremony in Calabasas, California, birthplace of the black light. The sudden pregnancy induced Sept. 29 nuptials came just weeks after she broke up with super-fly hip-hop mogul Sean "P. Diddy" "Puff Daddy" "Crunch Piddy" Combs, with whom she had a highly publicized superficial romance.
"I didn't know who I should marry," she admitted to the National Enquirer. "I just knew my period was late, yo."
A penniless Judd appeared as a background dancer in the video for her tune "Love Don't Cost a Thing," but ironically in recent months P Diddy is the one still paying off the price his "Love" cost him. He's quoted as saying, "Yo, I didn't know a brother had to make a payment on the tiffany's account within a month y'all. This credit docking is a conspiracy to keep the brothers down."
Judd directed the video for the Ja Rule remix of her lackluster song "Ain't It Funny," and choreographed her recent embarrassing NBC special but asked to be taken off the credits. Judd's spokesman insisted that this request had nothing to do with the break up.
He and Lopez also co-wrote the song "Alive" from her aptly named release "Enough," barely making an appearance in theaters now. Judd spoke with Moxie reporters and said only that, "I didn't know she expected me to call her J.Lo all the time. I thought that was a joke when she demanded it on our wedding night. But I wanted to call her by MY pet name, for my wife, you know? Jennifer. She practically scratched my eyes out. So I tried calling her Jen. That left me with a band-aid on my left testicle."
Lopez married model Ojani Noa in 1997 and divorced him the following year. Bets at the OTB are 10 to 1 that she'll be married again within the year. In fact, men at the lower Manhattan site are lining up as candidates.
Posted by Moxie at 5:13 PM
link via funktrain Watch the
link via funktrain
Watch the air traffic over LAX. Fascinating, though I'm not sure why. As I was looking at this, I heard a small plane flying overhead, and I found it on the map!
Posted by Moxie at 12:52 AM
June 7, 2002
is she gonna talk about basketball again?
is she gonna talk about basketball again?
You betcha! When the NBA finals look more like a special olympics event, I'm forced to focus on the "other elements" of the game. The Lakers are all such handsome, clean cut, well spoken men without exception.
Then you've got the Nets. Wearing black socks. No one told the folks in New Jersey that black socks with shorts are a fashion don't. I guess they think it looks cool. Van Horn wears his pulled up to the knee like my 80-year-old Grandfather. Lucious Harris has that creepy Halloween Mike Myers facemask, and Kidd blows a kiss to the basket before each free throw. Is this a ball game or a voodoo ritual?
I get asked a lot, "do you like the Lakers just because you live in LA?" The answer, which I will try to make as short as possible is no. From early childhood I've followed the Lakers, my Dad knew Jerry West so Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Wilt Chamberlain and Magic Johnson were guys I watched at a tender age. Though I have to admit, we did always like the 76'ers, too.
Posted by Moxie at 8:11 PM
June 6, 2002
round two
round two
Lots of the yard sales I've seen in my neighborhood begin at 10 or 11 and end in the late afternoon. I've looked at the obviously worn out DKNY sweaters marked 20 dollars and promptly put them back down. Target bookshelves, generously used went for a few dollars less than for what they could be purchased new. I didn't see anyone buying anything, nor did I make a purchase.
This Saturday is round two of a joint effort yard sale. My friend is a pro at this, and instructed me last week, "do NOT throw anything away, people will buy anything!" I laughed, but put my faded towels in the box anyway and marked them $1 for the set. They joined things that were torn, stained or hopelessly out of style. She arrived armed with lingerie, things that needed mending, as well as many things in good condition. Nothing was more than 5 bucks, most items in the 1-3 dollar range.
Beginning at 7AM we surveyed the goods and tried to merchandise them as best we could. "What items of yours do you think won't sell?" she asked me. Definitely those lime green pantyhose (never worn) or the logo infested straw cowboy hat. "No one will ever buy that," I assured her.
You know what? The hat went first, and I tried not to laugh as the woman handed me her money. The lime green pantyhose were purchased by someone who thought they were cool. My friend's lingerie was selected and paid for discreetly. Even my old faded towels made some nice lady very happy for only a dollar. The old saying is true, one (wo)man's junk is another's treasure. All said, we made great money for just a few hours of work. People really will buy anything. I'm hoping this weekend will be even more successful!
Even better than feeling a wad of cash in your pocket is the purged feeling afterwards. Letting go of this old stuff is very therapeutic.
Posted by Moxie at 11:43 PM
June 5, 2002
to my los angeles readers
to my los angeles readers
There's a great new site, LA blogs. If you have a blog, and I *know* you do, go on and join. Awww, I know you aren't a joiner. But if there's a large enough crew, eventually it may evolve into a social enabler. You know, drinks and stuff!
Posted by Moxie at 10:22 PM
dim and dimmer
dim and dimmer
That would be the lights, and perhaps me. Three cheers for Brent, who figured out my uniquely colored electrical wiring this afternoon! Apparently, when my landlord revamped the place he chose both custom paint and electrical wiring colors.
The 'crib' is perfect now. Although I'm sure the kitties enjoy the romantic lighting as much as I do, all I need now is to find just the right guy to invite over for a dimly lit dinner. It's just about time for a trip to Thai town, so you can guess the menu. I always look forward to my trips so I can practice my numbers. The young girl at the checkout counter covers her mouth when she giggles as I repeat my total in Thai. Gosh, what $11.31 {sounds like sip-et sahm sip-et} must sound like spoken with my American accent. I shudder to think.
Posted by Moxie at 6:44 PM
a long time ago, in a land far far away...
a long time ago, in a land far far away...
Okay, so not in a land so far away. When I lived in San Francisco I was playing a small role in Robin William's flick Flubber. I never thought I'd admit that in public. Fortunately for me, it got cut. But no matter. Robin had been to my improv class several times, as he's great friends with the teacher. While standing around on the set waiting for the next scene, Robin began talking to me. I asked him if Jim, the improv teacher was going to be working on the film, yadda yadda. Somehow, we got onto current events, and I asked him what he thought about the Oakland school district officially recognizing "ebonics" as a dialect.
rw: It's kind of funny isn't it?
me: You bet, next thing you know the school plays will be ebonic productions of Shakespeare
me: "To be or not to be, yo. That be the questions bro
rw: "Hark, what GTA through yonder window's broke..."
And so on. I told my Mom about it. In fact, I told everyone about it. Two days later unbeknownst to me, rw was on the Tonight Show. My phone rang, I picked it up, then I got call waiting beep after call waiting beep. Yup, Jay asked him what he thought about ebonics, to which rw replied, "next thing you know the school plays will be ebonic productions of Shakespeare....." and began a similiar improv. Sure, he *could* have thought that up on his own, he does a lot of Shakespeare material but each call I got was the same. He stole the set-up line word for word. Even the yo and bro in the to be or not to be.
I was flattered really, I'd never do racial material on stage anyway.
Posted by Moxie at 1:18 PM
June 4, 2002
security screening
security screening
Instead of completing the 5+ journal entries I have sitting on my desktop, I 'played' a few rounds of MSNBC's security screener simulation. Click that link, you'll get a pop-up and that's actually what you want to look at, okay?!
Scary that the scans used were actual scans from airport security. And hey, even the most inocuous items looked suspicious to me. "Oh! That could be a paper clip bomb!" Even scarier is that I got 100% the second time around. I guess I'm in the wrong field.
Posted by Moxie at 11:35 PM
June 3, 2002
home depot
home depot
I'm putting on my independant woman hat today and heading over to the home depot. I'm installing dimmer switches in the livingroom and diningroom. I read up on it, and it's a pretty easy task. The heat has my hair looking as if I've already been electrocuted anyway, so I have nothing to lose.
Full report later on. (And no, I haven't forgotten that I still owe you guys the story about Mork on the tonight show!)
Posted by Moxie at 11:11 PM
kottke | poking fun at the A list
kottke | poking fun at the A list
If you get bored reading about what ended up in Meg's toilet, you can always go here to her young boyfriend's site and try to figure out how he wrote 4 ambiguous sentences when all could have been clearly communicated in one. For the lazy, it's posted below:
"- Posts now appear in strict reverse chronological order. Previously, the newest day appeared at the top of the page, but the posts within each day read from oldest to newest down the page. Posts now read from newest to oldest down the page within each day. The newest post is always at the top of the page."
I'm feeling mean tonight. This post may disapear. While they may be touted as great designers and programmers, I really find them most effective as sleep aids.
Posted by Moxie at 9:55 PM
calorie restriction
calorie restriction
"The diet, dubbed “calorie restriction” in the clinical parlance of science, would be called severe deprivation in any other lexicon.....limit food intake to the minimum necessary to prevent negative effects on health — or at least 30% less than the current “healthy” diet. Translated into human terms, that would be 1,120 calories a day for the average woman, or 1,540 for a man. For the average American, eating at that level would create deep hunger pangs."
I've never had a big appetite, most days I barely consume 1,100 calories. If this article proves to be true for humans, I'm well on my way to living to 150. I'm not sure why anyone would want to at this point. If, for most people the diet feels like starvation, who wants to spend the next 120 years feeling hungry?
But what's really troubling about this article is the effects it can have on the millions of young girls who are suffering from eating disorders. Having grown up studying ballet in NYC, I saw first hand that so many of these girls could and would use this type of theory as further justification for starving themselves. Dangerous stuff.
Posted by Moxie at 9:53 AM
June 1, 2002
wisdom from rick
wisdom from rick
The power of suggestion is perhaps the strongest influence we have over our minds. When disgusted with years of mediocre salaries and deadend jobs, my beyond brilliant Daddy suggested visualizing the paycheck I would like to receive, along with the desired job title and what I did to make it happen. It worked within a few month's time. Another practical application of this technique did not dawn on me until it was spelled out on the web.
I have dreams I'd rather not have, period. Most wouldn't classify these night visions as nightmares. But as my dreams at first glance are wonderful and romantic, involving joy and the love of a man who has abandoned me abruptly and without reason -- I wake up with a sense of exuberant happiness, that once reality sets in, is promptly replaced with depression. I found Rick's article on "How to Stop Nightmares" at technoerotica highly useful.
Hey, one woman's dream is another's nightmare. But either way this is a great method to stop the thought process.
Posted by Moxie at 8:23 PM
where have I been all this time??
where have I been all this time??
It's common knowledge that Toyota makes Lexus, Honda makes Acura, and Nissan makes Infiniti. Imagine my shock and dismay to learn who makes Mercedes-Benz. Yup it's our friends Daimler Chrysler. Apparently, the corporation was formed when Daimler-Benz AG bought Chrysler Corp. in 1998. Where have I been all these years?
Perhaps it was a bit of information I chose to forget. What Daimler-Benz could possibly have seen in Chrysler's cars is completely beyond me. Oh yeah, I guess it's all about money, isn't it?!
Posted by Moxie at 4:47 PM
