Support my philanthropic efforts!

I have agreed to participate in a 5K run in support of finding a cure for breast cancer. If you would like to donate some money to a worthy cause (and what is sure to be a comical day in my life, trotting over hill and dale as fast as my asthmatically-diminished lungs will allow), follow my link:

http://KMD2007RFTC.kintera.org/pleasegodletmemakeittothefinish

Will write more soon, but in the meantime, give me your money. I mean, give your money to a good cause via me.

Look, she's got no hair!!

'Ah, where'd it go?!' (or, 'Eat a damn biscuit, girl!')
'Who's that boy?'
I swear it looks better than this in real life.

Oh...my...gosh...

If you've not already seen this, you really should:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdzchIMi43Y


Make sure you pay attn. to the lyrics. I first heard this song when I was driving one of my young clients home and I def. laughed, even though I should have just changed the station. I'm such a good employee.

Also on the list of recent moments when I have laughed inappropriately w/a child: Whilst supervising a group scavenger hunt at the Natural History Museum, I witnessed a young girl of abt. 8 y.o. run headlong toward a glass display case and *bounce*off*. As if this were not enough to make me bust a gut, the girl's mom tried to make her feel better by knocking her own head against the glass (gently, of course) saying, 'Oh, yeah, it's hard to see this glass!' AH-HAHAHA!!

"I drink a lot."

As many of you know, I recently started a new job. Helping ppl. Specifically, I work w/kids in inner city Washington, DC, who are underpriveleged and in need of mental health services. In fact, most of them are in need of new parents, but as a result of having only shit ones, these kids now need mental health services. Which I provide.

The first six wks. of this little karmic experiment went pretty well, meaning that although my kids all have terrible backgrounds and I saw terrible thgs. related to them (e.g., schools w/o electricity, teenage neighbors w/handguns, mom w/eight kids notifying me of being pregnant w/#9, etc.), my kids themselves did a pretty good job of keeping it together. At least when they were w/me, which, I will admit, is my top priority. Ideally, I would like for these kids to be able to act straight in all settings -- that is sort of the point of our work, after all -- but to be honest, that is simply not going to be possible for most of them. So if they can act like a normal, rational human being for a couple of hrs. ea. wk. while they're w/me, fab-o.

Unfortunately, reality, it seems, has finally begun to set in. One girl has decided she would rather return to juvenile detention than follow the rules at home. One of my boys is temporarily banished fr. my car b/c he found it impossible to keep his seatbelt on and not touch the steering wheel while we drove. Another boy has refused to attend evening substance abuse treatment, instead choosing to escalate his abuse, abscond fr. home, and necessitate involuntary hospitalization. And those are just the highlights -- I could continue in this manner w/all 18 of my cases.

Last wk., at the beginning of the end, as I stood explaining to one of my kids why I was going to have to call her probation officer and then the police as a result of her intransigently unsafe, belligerent behavior, I recalled a scene fr. my interview for this job. My future supervisors asked me what I did to relax, how did I go home at the end of a hard day in the pits of Hell and make myself feel better. This question was not actually surprising, given the nature of this job, and I made an apparently satisfactory answer involving social support, music, and horseback riding. But what surprised me was the answer that almost immediately flew fr. my mouth, the answer that, even half-joking though it was intended, would have been a deal breaker had it slipped forth: "I drink a lot."

And so I do. Not generally during the wk. (though that is not a hard and fast rule) and def. not while I am at work, but I do -- I drink a lot.

Give me a stinking break.

Being the dutiful child I am, I spent my w/e visiting family, first a day w/my stepmom (for the moment) and my half-siblings, then an overnight visit w/my grandmother. The number of features that could make this the most annoying w/e ever are manifold: my awkward position of marriage counselor/confidante in my dad and stepmom's continuing marital weirdness; my grandmother's obssessive-compulsive disorder; the $235 car repair bill I had to pay. And so on and so on, ad nauseum (mostly my nauseum).

But the crowning glory must be the three times people asked if I was my grandmother's daughter. Not once, not twice, but THREE times someone seemed to think I look old enough to be my 72 y.o. grandmother's daughter.

What the frick, ppl.???

I am now shopping for a sturdy paper bag w/which I can cover my apparently haggard face. This is why I didn't want to turn 25.

A little smthg. w/which to scare the kids...

My house is infested w/spiders. Big, brown, nocturnal, semi-hairy, jumping spiders. And that does not even begin to describe how repulsive they are in the, um, whatever arachnids have for flesh. I have been assured that my most unwelcome guests are not of the brown recluse variety, but I would rather not test those waters to make sure. Oh, and did I mention that there used to be a Gigantor one that lived in a corner of our cathedral ceiling in the living room and when she ate (I'm pretty sure it was a she b/c it actually had a web, unlike the others, and I think that's where she kept her spawn), you could *hear* her -- "clickclickclick." Her pincers clicking, snipping through the thorax of her meal, you could *hear* that, 15 feet below, sitting on our couch, trying to watch The Simpsons or some such bullshit.

Pret-ty Gross. But, not gross enough to overcome my inability to kill thgs. I don't know when this happened, but it seems I am loathe to kill anythg., even nasty bug interlopers. These spiders have shown up everywhere fr. my dresser drawers to my BED. And still, I could not actually kill one. Usually, I would just flail and they would scurry or I would get one of the cats to chase the latest offendor into hiding. Occasionally, for v. small ones that did not yet scare the bejeezus out of me, I would scoop them up w/a glass and take them outside.

But the tide has turned decidedly against the eight-legged invaders. It is on. Full-on Bugs-You-Are-Going-Down War.

The other day, I stepped out of the shower, started toweling off, thinking how glad I am that winter is over and the bathroom is no longer cold when I get out of the hot water and wondering where my leave-in conditioner had gotten to, when I noticed that my navy blue towel had suddenly sprouted a spot of unattractive brown color. And then the spot moved toward my face. Oh, the hell no. Much as I would like to say that I did not shriek and jump around like I moron, I cannot. In fact, I squealed so loudly, Eli thought I had fallen in the tub and hurt myself (I'm a little surprised I didn't). I did, however, manage to compose myself enough to shake the towel quite aggressively, a maneuver which not only removed the spider fr. my towel, but also injured it. Feeling it would be wrong to lv. it to suffer so, I called Eli in to the bathroom and he picked it up w/some TP and put it in the toilet. Dead. I felt a little bad abt. this.

Until tonight.

Again, minding my own business, on my way to the bathroom to get some floss so I can start my nightly routine, when -- FLPTH!! TWO AND A HALF INCH SPIDER ON MY FOOT. Asshole *jumped* out fr. behind my bedroom door and onto my foot -- and I am not exaggerating. He didn't stay there long, but it was enough: one of us had to go. For a little bit, it looked like it would be me. I immediately laced on a pair of sneakers (needed smthg. to protect my now-tainted feet) and I contemplated just sleeping in the guest bedroom and lvng. my bedroom to the spider. But then I saw the spider attempting to get INTO MY BED and it was over. It was my own little post-traumatic flashback montage: envisioning the last time I found a spider in my bed crawling up my arm, thinking of the one of my towel, the one I found in my pajamas...ARGH!! I got a pair of gloves, put a plastic bag over my foot, hurled small objects at the fucker until he was trapped in a corner and then I did it -- I killed him. W/my plastic-bag clad foot, I squashed him.

I felt sort of happy, like I had accomplished smthg., until I thought abt. how I must have looked: I was hunched over, shaking slightly, in a corner of my room wearing fleece gloves, tennis shoes, an Old Navy shopping bag covering my right leg fr. the knee down, and...a blue satin nighty. That's right, folks, I had thought it would be nice to put on smthg. cute for Eli since I'm moving in a wk. and then he goes to Korea for a yr. And this is how it ended -- me in a blue teddy, looking like a mental patient, muttering abt. killer spiders, wearing gloves in 80 degree heat, and stomping around w/a plastic bag on one foot. Spicy.

Germ vs. Paper; Like Lemmings Off the Cliff; Quelle Surprise!

Really? You *really* think that works??

As many of you know, I have long prided myself on having a bladder made of smthg. akin to steel, but more flexible, which allows me the luxury of avoiding public restrooms in all but the most emergent of cases. Unfortunately -- but expectedly, given my encroaching decrepitude and age (and the fact that I have finally learned to drink the RDA of water) -- Old Faithful has been letting me down lately. More and more often, I find myself having to interrupt road trips or dinners out so that I may have the distinct displeasure of seeking out public facilities.

I know only a few warped individuals who actually enjoy using public toilets (and those I know only through urban legends, not personal acquaintance), but for me, using a toilet other than my own is a singularly distasteful experience. Blame the early exposure to my grandmother's obsessive-compulsive fixation on disease or the fact that I swear I can feel the tiny molecules lingering fr. someone else's, erm, 'secretion' entering my trachea, but either way, I just have a problem w/communal bathrooms. I shudder, I close my eyes and pray, I even hold my breath on occasion, but one thg. I never do is use those little tissue paper toilet seat covers.

In the past, I felt sort of self-conscious that I did not immediately set abt. unfurling and arranging the bit of gossamer that many others seem to feel is a compulsory component of a visit to the public loo (you can hear them rustling!), but I rarely bothered w/this. I never thought abt. it much, but a few wks. ago, entering the restroom at a local grocery store (no, I really couldn't wait til I finished my shopping), I finally discerned why exactly I generally exempt myself fr. this ritual, despite my excessive aversion to municipal facilities.

My rationale is twofold: 1) The simple fact is, that flimsy bit of paper is absolutely not going to prevent any germs fr. getting through. In fact, half the time it only serves to highlight the many areas of the toilet seat that have already been sullied, which serves only to make the experience that much more repulsive. Furthermore, these toilet seat covers are not, to the best of my knowledge, possessed of any sort of anti-bacterial quality, thereby further lessening their utility, which brings me to 2) What a waste of trees. Honestly, consider how many trees are cut down so that ppl. can lay out these useless 'prophylactics.' In this age of global warming, doesn't it make more sense to stop pretending that tissue paper horseshoe you just put down somehow constitutes a feasible line of defense b/t you and germs of unknown origin when you know v. well that if you tried to blow your nose w/that paper, you would have to fold it no fewer than three times in order to prevent fr. blowing straight through??

Protect the planet, forego the toilet seat cover! After all, it doesn't protect you fr. squat!

This just in: GW replaces lemming as Nature's most infamous surge-er

I'm not going to go to far into this b/c, in the words of The Smiths, 'That joke isn't funny anymore -- it's too close to home and it's too near the bone,' but my blog just wouldn't be mine if I didn't make some snide remark abt. Pres. Bush's brilliant new Iraq strategy, The Surge. And by 'brilliant' I mean 'dumbest thg. since Napoleon's decision to surge into Russia in winter.' A more recent example of this misguided battle plan would be the Johnson administration's decision to throw more troops into the asymmetrical war in Vietnam, which served only to inflate the US casualty list. Well played, boys.

Words cannot convey my feelings when I learned my husband was to be part of this action. But some that come close are: bitter, frustrated, and I-hate-you-motherfuckers.

Reluctantly joining the Quarter Century Club

I am now officially 25. Wee-fricking-haw. For a variety of reasons, I was not thrilled abt. this birt-day. Unenthusiastic does not begin to describe it. In spite of this, my 25th turned out to be quite a nice day. These are the thgs. that made it rock:
1) Jill gave me my presents immediately after I woke up, which include the most awesome contact lense case ever, viewable at: http://welltemperedkitchen.com/lucoleca.html She also took me to lunch at the awesome new Indian buffet, where I def. got my $7.50 worth (mmm, black dahl, I love you...).
2) I got an uber-long-distance call fr. Melissa in the Netherlands just before I left for work and had a v. exciting conversation abt. potential Ph.D. opportunities there -- I am slowly but surely beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, professionally speaking.

3) Found the most beautiful skirt at bebe -- on sale.
4) Was offered free highlights and a haircut at a salon I normally cannot afford.
5) Had a wonderful, mellow, entertaining dinner w/my Chas. girls at Kate's adorable house. Thank you, Christy, for making the pizza dough fr. scratch, and thank you, Charlotte, for helping to 'decorate' the Best Pizza Ever.
6) In addition to the perfect I-don't-want-to-be-25 dinner, Christy, Kate, and Charlotte also gave me fabulous presents, including my new favorite purse, jewelry I love but would be too much of a weenie to buy for myself, and a CD I love but would be too embarrassed to buy for myself -- hee hee...
7) Enough phone calls, emails, and general nice-ness to last me til next birt-day. I feel so warm and fuzzy!

25: I don't love it, but it didn't kill me. Yet.

I can't be bothered w/a real post right now, but this is pretty funny

Soundtrack of My Life Music Shuffle.

To take this survey, put your music player on shuffle, and answer each question with the song that comes on, then put any comments you have.

1. What is your name?
Song: A Little Bit of Ecstasy -- Jocelyn Enriquez
Comments: Well, I always joked abt. wanting to be a stripper...

2. Will you get far in life?
Song: Gold Dust Woman -- Fleetwood Mac
Comments: I could be a hot, manipulative queen ultimately destined for tragedy.

3. How can you get far in life?
Song: Angel -- Massive Attack
Comments: Apparently by leaving it.

4. What is [or will be] your profession?
Song: Comfort Eagle -- Cake
Comments: I'm not sure what exactly a Comfort Eagle does, but it sounds sort ofcunning and perhaps drug-related. Maybe I'll get my own infomercial.

5. What do you really want from life?
Song: How to Save a Life -- The Fray
Comments: Wow, that seems pretty apropos. And it also makes me think even more that God is telling me to get the med school show on the road instead of putzing around hiding fr. the MCAT and broken bones (I don't like the crunch noise!!).

6. What should you do to help others?
Song: The Thunder Rolls (Extended Version) -- Garth Brooks
Comments: Exact revenge on cheating ratbag husbands? That would seemingly serve only a small population, but could be satisfying.

7. What should you do to help yourself?
Song: Everbody Knows -- Denali
Comments: It would be nice if everyone would let me know.

8. Will you succeed in life?
Song: I Do -- Lisa Loeb
Comments: I Do, I Will, whatever -- seems affirmative to me.

9. What should you do to succeed?
Song: China -- Tori Amos
Comments: Go to China? Use china? I dunno. The song *is* all abt. emotional barriers and intimacy issues, so maybe it's saying the secret to my success is to continue in my cynical, guarded ways.

10. What is one of your most important goals in life?
Song: Please Forgive Me -- David Gray
Comments: Goodness, I can only imagine what I plan to do if I am alreadybegging forgiveness!

11. How is [or was] high school?
Song: Blue Light (Engineers' Anti-Gravity Remix) -- Bloc Party
Comments: I suppose it was often a melancholy time for me, but thinking abt.it makes me smile, just like this song.

12. How do you see yourself?
Song: Thriller -- Michael Jackson
Comments: hmmm...That would probably indicate a severe psychosis and/or narcissistic personality disorder.

13. How do your friends see you?
Song: The Way I Am -- Eminem
Comments: That seems nice, until you remember that the actual song is all angst-y and sarcastic. On second thought, I guess I am sort of angst-y and sarcastic, or at least sarcastic.

14. How does the world see you?
Song: Eyes without a Face -- Billy Idol
Comments: Gee, that's pretty deep. Could it be that ppl. don't see the whole me b/c they get hung up on the (distracting, alluring) details? haha...

15. What is your theme song?
Song: Silent Spring -- Massive Attack
Comments: It is a lovely, intricate song whose lyrics are unintelligible -- that sounds a lot like me.

16. What is the best thing about you?

Song: I See You Baby (Shakin' that Ass) -- Groove Armada

Comments: Let's face it, I DO have a hot ass and I shake it quite often.

17. What is the worst thing about you?
Song: Roses -- Outkast
Comments: Again w/the narcissism...Am I really that self-centered?? (she queried as she filled out a survey all abt. herself...)

18. How is today going to be?
Song: Keep their Heads Ringin' -- Dr. Dre
Comments: Considering that it is 230am and I am going to get only abt. four hrs. of sleep, I v. well might have a hellacious headache the rest of the day.

19. How will this week be?
Song: Breaking the Girl -- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Comments: Oh, that does *not* bode well...

20. What's in store for this weekend?
Song: You Could Be Mine -- Guns'N'Roses
Comments: Vicious, aggressive, and focused -- I like it. I am now determined that smthg. will be mine this w/e, even if it's just a bottle of wine (which I will apparently need after my "Breaking the Girl" week).

21. What song describes your parents?
Song: You're Crazy Nuts from Hell Bent on Driving me to an Early Grave -- Me
What do you mean you've never heard that song??
Hmmm, interestingly, the real song that came up was "Down By the Water" by PJ Harvey
Comments: This is a song abt. drowning a 'lovely, blue-eyed daughter,' so maybe my faux song wasn't that far off -- haha!

22. What song describes your grandparents?
Song: My Way -- Limp Bizkit
Comments: Uh, Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop are thinking abt. moving back to the East Coast, which is geographically my way (and would be awesome).

23. How is your life going so far?
Song: You Turn the Screws -- Cake
Comments: It has been rather tortuous at points...

24. Will you have a happy life?
Song: There It Go (The Whistle Song) -- Juelz Santana
Comments: Given the upbeat whistle featured in this song, the idiot grin I get on my face everytime I hear it, and the fact that if you squint really hard,'There it go,' could be an agreeable answer to whether or not I will be happy,I'll say this is pretty good.

25. How can you make yourself happy?
Song: Winona's Big Brown Beaver -- Primus
Comments: No, seriously, that's the song that came up. Perhaps I should be re-evaluating my sexual orientation.

26. What gives you the most pleasure?
Song: I Know what You Want -- Busta Rhymes and Mariah Carey
Comments: I do love giving ppl. gifts.

27. Do people secretly lust after you?
Song: Mr. Camouflage Suit Maker -- Bud Light Commercial
Comments: Really, I couldn't make this up.

28. What is your signature dancing song?
Song: Losing Lisa -- Ben Folds
Comments: I do secretly like to twirl and jump around to this song, but that's def. not how I dance in public. I move to strike the music player's random selection from the record and replace it w/'Toxic' by Britney Spears. Hearing no objections,the motion carries.

29. Where will you get married?
Song: Running Down a Dream -- Tom Petty
Comments: Let me assure you, Ft. Gordon, GA, site of my actual wedding, is no picnic, let alone a dream. Hopefully this means Eli and I will one day get around to having our long-planned re-wedding extravaganza.

30. What song will they play at your wedding?
Song: Playground Love -- Air
Comments: Awww...that would have been perfect since Eli and I are high school sweethearts!

31. Will you ever have children?
Song: Insane in the Membrane -- Cypress Hill
Comments: HAHAHAHAHA!! Yes, if I ever go insane in my membrane, I may have kids, who will surely drive me even more insane.

32. How will you die?
Song: All the Things She Said -- TATU
Comments: I will be killed by vicious rumors spread by Russian pretend-lesbiansand their mini-skirt clad army?

33. What song will they play at your funeral?
Song: Closer (Nine Inch Nails) vs. In Da Club (50 Cent)
Comments: Oh, yes, please. Esp. if my mom is outlives me, play this song at my funeral. She would join me soon enough if you did.

34. What is some good advice?
Song: The Rain -- Missy Elliott
Comments: Um, well, when it rains, I like to go to bed early and lay (lie?) there listening to it against the window. So, uh, if you're anxious and looking fora way to relax, try this. It would be particularly helpful if you lived in the Pacific Northwest or Scotland where rain is readily available. If not, buy one of those little fountain thgs.

Now you try! Really, given the eclectic musical tastes of my friends, I think we could get some interesting versions of this....