Newfro

2006-05-30T07:49:00.000-06:00

Here’s how to make an invisibility cloak
Theoretical cloaking device could soon become reality (sort of)

Updated: 12:03 a.m. MT May 25, 2006

Alan Boyle
Science editorResearchers say they are rapidly closing in on new types of materials that can throw a cloak of invisibility around objects, fulfilling a fantasy that is as old as ancient myths and as young as "Star Trek" and the Harry Potter novels.

Unlike those tales of fictional invisibility, the real-life technologies usually have a catch. Nevertheless, limited forms of invisibility might be available to the military sooner than you think.

"We're very confident that at radar frequencies, these materials can be implemented on a time scale of 18 months or so," John Pendry of Imperial College London told MSNBC.com.

Pendry's research team is one of two groups whose results were posted Thursday on the journal Science's Web site in advance of print publication. The two papers lay out different theoretical methods for creating invisibility, not only for radar but potentially for optical wavelengths as well.

Still more teams are out there with ideas to make things invisible — using methods ranging from superlenses that cancel out the light from nearby objects to actual cloaks onto which video can be projected as a moving camouflage. The most exotic technologies involve "metamaterials," blends of polymers and tiny coils or wires that twist the paths of electromagnetic radiation.

"There are recipes for controlling metamaterials," explained University of Pennsylvania electrical engineer Nader Engheta, who published his own invisibility recipe last year. "Metamaterials are very interesting products."

The latest research papers describe how metamaterial could be fabricated to bend light in carefully curved paths around the object to be hidden, so that an observer would see right through it — or more accurately, right around it — to the other side.

Science
This diagram shows how light rays could theoretically be bent around a concealed object, making it seem as if an observer were looking straight through the object. "The cloak would act like you've opened up a hole in space," Duke University's David Smith, one of Pendry's co-authors, explained in a news release. "All light or other electromagnetic waves are swept around the area, guided by the metamaterial to emerge on the other side as if they had passed through an empty volume of space."

Pendry told MSNBC.com that the cloak wouldn't reflect any light, and wouldn't cast a shadow either. "It would be like Peter Pan had lost his shadow," he said, referring to the fictional character who had to have his shadow stitched back on.

Dreams come true, with a few catches
Theoretically at least, the metamaterial could work like the helmet of invisibility celebrated in Greek myth, or the cloaking device that hid Romulan and Klingon vessels in the "Star Trek" series, or the invisibility cloak that came in so handy for Harry Potter in J.K. Rowlings' novels.

"Fiction has predicted the course of science for some time. ... Maybe these Harry Potter novels were ahead of their time," Pendry said, half-jokingly.

Of course, there are some scientific catches that the tale-tellers never had to worry about:

For a total invisibility effect, the waves passing closest to the cloaked object would have to be bent in such a way that they would appear to exceed relativity's light speed limit. Fortunately, there's a loophole in Albert Einstein's rules of the road that allows smooth pulses of light to undergo just such a phase shift.
The invisibility effect would work only for a specific range of wavelengths. "There is a price to be paid if you want a thin cloak, in that it operates only over a narrow range of frequencies," Pendry said.

The cloak could be made to cover a volume of any shape, but "you can't flap your cloak," Pendry said. Moving the material around would spoil the effect.
The tiny structures embedded in the metamaterial would have to be smaller than the wavelength of the electromagnetic rays you wanted to bend. That's a tall order for optical invisibility, because the structures would have to be on the scale of nanometers, or billionths of a meter. It's far easier to create radar invisibility, Pendry said: "You're talking millimeters" — that is, thousandths of a meter.
The radar application is of great interest to military outfits such as the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, which funded Pendry's team. "Radar is a defense technology, and if you wish to hide from it, this sort of cloak would be a good way of doing it," he said. Such a technology would be "far superior to stealth," he said.

If optical cloaks could be designed, that would be of interest to the military as well. "One obvious thing would be that you could construct a hutch in which you could hide a tank, and the hutch would make it appear as though the tank wasn't there. ... You could also think of weightier things, like submarines or battleships, where you might want to put some of this stuff," Pendry said.

There'd be plenty of applications in the civilian world as well, even for rudimentary cloaking devices. For example, you could create receptacles to shield sensitive medical devices from disruption by MRI scanners, or build cloaks to route cellphone signals around obstacles. "You may wish to put a cloak over the refinery that is blocking your view of the bay," Duke University's David Schurig, another of Pendry's co-authors, was quoted as saying.

While Pendry's team proposed constructing all-over cloaking devices, the other research paper published Thursday describes a simpler method that would involve shaping the metamaterials into cylindrical cloaking devices. The method could also work to block sound waves — like the cone of silence on the "Get Smart" TV show, but not as silly.

The catch here is that the invisibility effect would work only if you were on the same plane as the hidden object. "You could look on top of it, and look inside the cloak," said the paper's author, Ulf Leonhardt of the University of St. Andrews in Scotland.

Leonhardt told MSNBC.com that "potentially a mixture of the two schemes will lead to a practical design." He said the paper from Pendry's team gave him some additional ideas to work with.

"I read it for the first time just last Friday, and I've come up already with something new," he said.

2005-12-08T14:51:00.000-07:00

As the end of the year draws near, I can't help but think about how this year has been one of death for me, and as I sit here listening to Daphne Rubin-Vega sing, "the pain will ease if I can learn there is no future, there is no past" I am faced with a million decisions that may or may not affect my future and I'm stuck here staring down my past. And how much of my obsession with what is over and what is to come, is caused by the fact that the present is only occupied with my sitting here looking at a computer and doing nothing? How can I help remembering losing everyone I've loved and alienating everyone who loved me? And how can I not worry that I'll only do it again? Why is the death of the first person who ever loved you so destructive? Why do I fear the fate of anyone who may love me in the future? Why does this take precedence over the few people who may love me now? Why can't I think of any?

2005-10-30T22:09:00.000-07:00

I don't want you to think I'm still mourning the man. I've had a real family member die, so it's a little further back in my mind. But for those of you still saddened by the news, it will hearten you to look at this:

HPB Spoiler!

2005-07-17T04:26:00.001-06:00

I am drained of tears and my body is just wracking against itself forcefully. I have already vomited twice and once the gurgling dies down in my throat I may again. I am painfully lost between feeling destroyed and stupid to react so wildly to a fiction, but my throat is actually hoarse and in pain for shouting curses into the night. If anyone heard them, I'm sure they think I lost a lover or a brother to a real skirmish and I apologize. Who am I to so completely fall into a hyperventilating mess while one of my best friends has a husband, real and palpable and amazing, who faces actual warfare? I feel betrayed by my emotions and so aware of the world and I called my father at 3 in the morning to tell him I loved him. I hate that I need comforting right now. More, I hate that no one else does. Not because they don't care, but because they're slower than I. And I hate to think that just last night the world was celebrating, parties at midnight, people dressed like witches and wizards and bobbing for apples down at Barnes and Noble or whatever they do, excitedly awaiting the strike of the hour when they could lay their hands on what has so fully devastated me tonight. To think that the story was written and we celebrated so early. And tomorrow I will be mourning, and next week, so will so many others. Normally I wouldn't have time to write, as I'd be reading a second time those highly anticipated words. But I can't bring myself to even look at the book as it makes me heave uncontrollably. I don't know that I'll ever bring myself to read this particular book again. I am the world's biggest nerd.

Sad, sad bunny...

2005-07-14T03:43:00.000-06:00

I'm actually so bored I went hunting for spam questionnaires. Sad, sad, sad, sad bunny.

1. What time did you wake up this morning?
10 am, early as hell, but I had to fill out some jury thing online or they would hold me in contempt. Fucking government.

2. Diamonds or pearls?
I would say pearls because I would like that to be the answer, but Next to the smooth luster of a pearl, my face looks spotty and course as sandpaper, so I'll say diamonds...diamonds. And I don't mean rhinestones, but diamonds...

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
Sad to say it was The Interpreter, affectionately known as the worst movie ever.

4. What is your favorite TV show?
I know you guys totally won't believe this, but I'm really into The Office. Shock, huh?

5. What did you have for breakfast?
Three cigarettes, a homemade turtle and a 20 oz iced Oregon Chai. I'm obviously on a diet.

6. Peach yogurt or granola?
Oookay? Since the idea of peach yogurt makes me cringe and I loves me some granola, I choose granola by naerly a thousand percent. But hey, weird question. Way weird. Freaks.

7. What is your favorite cuisine?
Sushi. It makes me feel good. I want some right now! Where can I get sushi at 3:50 am, anyone? Do they deliver?

8. What foods do you dislike?
Tomatoes? Brie? I'm sure there are tons, but I prefer not to think about that.

9. What is your favorite crisp flavour?
The person from whom I stole this thought a crisp was a cracker. Stupid Americans. Anyway, I love Tim's Cascade Sea Salt and Vinegar. I would eat them until me tongue bled if you let me.

10. What is your favourite CD at the moment?
Oooh. The Velvet Goldmine Soundtrack, as it's the one in my player at the moment. Earlier today I was all about Tom Petty and The Killers.

11. What kind of car do you drive?
A 93 Ford Taurus, White. White Hot June. I washed her Monday; the first time in the year she's been mine. I'm sorry babe.

12. Favourite sandwich?
Probably turkey breast on whole wheat with honey mustard and mayo and lettuce and red onion. Maybe a pesto pannini with mozarella and chicken and I'm hungry.

13. What characteristics do you despise?
Unfunniness, Careless spelling and grammar mistakes, Ignorance. Things that it would only take a moment to correct, but you just don't because you don't care. Grrr.

14. Favourite items of clothing?
Low cut tops, nice fitting jeans, china flats, I love all my clothes.

15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Hmmmm...London? Surprised?

16. What colour is your bathroom?
White, blah. But we do have a budding Vargas girl theme in there. It's be cool someday.

17. Favourite brand of clothing?
Don't know that I have one, really. I'm loving Levis jeans at the moment, but I love anything that looks good on me, so, basically I'm a brand slut.

18. Where would you retire to?
Would I be lame to say Sun Valley? I've never quite been any place as pretty and I think if I ever have the kind of leisure time to just sort of soak up my surroundings, Sun Valley's the surroundings I'd love to soak.

19. Favourite time of the day?
Whenever I'm having fun. Usually around dusk is when the fun begins, so 9:30-ish?

20. What was your most memorable birthday?
Well, I don't remember much of it, but 21 is exciting. (That's totally a lie. I remember most of what happenned, I just don't remember being aware of my body at all. I remember what was going on in my brain, but not my limbs. Ooops!)

21. Where were you born?
Nampa, Idaho.

22. Favourite sport to watch?
Football. Both continents' types.

23. What book are you reading now?
Nothing. I just finished Mirror, Mirror and didn't have time to start and finish another one before July 16th. Big night, that. (Nerd alert)

24. What fabric detergent do you use?
Tide. Everything else gives me a rash after a couple of weeks

25. Coke or Pepsi?
I hate it when people put something here like "Root Beer" or "Sprite". The question isn't "What's your favorite soda?" It's, "If you had to choose one or the other and neither wasn't an option..." The only right answer, by the by, is Coke.

26. Are you a morning person or a night owl?
It's 4:13 am. And no, I didn't just get up all chipper. I'm still goin' from...oh, who the fuck am I kidding, I'm at work. Yukky.

27. What is your shoe size?
10-ish

28. Do you have any pets?
Bond, the loudest cat known to man.

29. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with your friends?
I'm not pregnant, and I have the cramps to prove it. You may be asking yourself, "how does SamSam never use a condom or birth control and still not get pregnant?" Well, I'm not going to tell you. You'll just have to guess.

30. What did you want to be when you were little?
Anything that sounded good. Really, radiologist, lawyer, ballerina, fashion designer, singer, welder. Mostly just wanted to be an adult.

31. What are you doing today?
I am sleeping all fucking day, then I'm going to tell MaryAnne to fuck herself, I can't work tomorrow til 2am, then I'm going to see Charlie and The Chocolate Factory with my friend (not firned), SamSam.

Reminder

2005-07-04T16:21:00.000-06:00

I was reminded briefly of Willamette last night when my friend Dave spun fire. And by fire, I mean sparklers tied to yarn. It was fucking amazing.

Afro Ben

2005-07-04T13:27:00.000-06:00

Once, at a party I met this boy named Ben. He had a jewfro, id est, a big curly mass of dark hair, perfectly round, soft and fluffy, atop his oh-so-white, big nose face. Large dark eyes, well dressed, gorgeous...I totally have the hots for him still. He and I chatted and played ten fingers and he put his hand down the front of my dress...you know...all the usual stuff. Of course, I slept with Jay that night and Ben went home. And that was a damn good thing, because I saw him the next weekend and he had cornrows. Cornrow Ben. Shudder.

Hey, Joe...

2005-07-04T13:22:00.000-06:00

More on Joe after he bores of reading my drivel...

Pie

2005-06-27T16:01:00.000-06:00

For some reason, as I wrack my brain for something new to write to appease the bloGods, this song lyric popped into my head:

"I met a girl who sang the blues
and I asked her for some happy news
but she just smiled and turned away."

I wanted to write a bit about my sister, but this is plaguing me. It's from the sad, slow part at the end of "American Pie" by Don Maclean. Now, I know the song is all about rock and roll and America and this bit I assume is about Janis Joplin, but it makes me think of Pattie Boyd. Not because she sang the blues, but the lyric just seems to invoke some sort of mysterious, aloof, gorgeous woman, who answers you by smiling and turning away. That just feels like Layla to me. And I look at pictures of this woman, arguably rock and roll's greatest muse, with her husbands. And I think I've seen one picture where she really looked like she loved George Harrison. And though it seemed like she and Eric Clapton had a great deal of fun, they never looked "in love" like you'd think they would.

There's no denying her allure, especially if you've heard "Something" or "Wonderful Tonight". I mean, this woman inspired some of the greatest love songs of all time. And there's no questioning the love that was felt towards her. Combining the potentially ruinous nature of "Layla"'s lyric (a rock star proclaiming his love for his rock star best friend's wife; it was no huge secret) with that gorgeous instrumental refrain at the end. It's what music and art are about.

Why? is my question. Why do they love her, this veiled creature with the face of a girl and the eyes and demeanor of a woman? Why, when she never risks anything, even in a candid photograph, do they sing her praises so strongly to the world? And it calls to mind another lyric...this one specifically about Mrs. Dark Horse-Slow Hand:

"Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don't need no other lover"

Note to self: Know that other people love you, and they will.

Loneliness is...

2005-06-18T14:09:00.000-06:00

In my elementary years I went to so many schools I don't even remember their names. 3rd grade was a the first year I ever went to one school from day first to day last without changing midway through. Fifth grade was the first year in full at my last elementary school. There were a number of reasons behind every move, but the main one always was that rent was cheaper in the part of town to which we were about to migrate.

We lived in a "garden" apartment, a singlewide trailer, a shared home, a duplex, a fourplex, all manner of inexpensive housing. The worst was a two bedroom house in the only slummy part of the rich side of town. We were surrounded on all sides by trailers, and (horror of all horrors) I had to share a room with my sister, six years my junior. (A lot of my worst memories are from this house and if I had millions of dollars, I'd seriously contemplate burning it down. Then I'd buy a plane ticket to London and a house there.) When my mom finally saved up enough money to buy a house for us, it was the oldest house in a neighborhood.

In Junior High I had a fried who offered to drive me home one day, and when I pointed to my house she laughed at the boarded up windows (my mother and I had to hang sheeting on them to keep energy costs low). She thought I was joking, that no one could possibly live there. We didn't remodel the kitchen or bathroom until my junior year of high school, so from the time I was ten 'til I was sixteen there was a whole between the two rooms that you could crawl through in an emergency. I never had friends over.

Until I was in high school I never had friends, period. It took my sudden epiphany in eighth grade - I didn't have to be rich or attractive to like myself, so what did I care if other people liked me? - to even get me to a level of self esteem at which it was no longer fun for bullies to make fun of me. I don't generally think about those times. It was hard for me.

For some reason I thought of that today as I was getting a ride to work from my mom. Just they way that people react to different situations. A different person may have tried for the rest of their lives to fit into that elite group of people with enough confidence and charm to keep the whole world in orbit around them. I've met adults like them, and I could have been one. As Kurt Elling said, "It's rare in life you come this close to losing all your skin".

Also, another person may have been upset that her serpentine belt was broken. But I'm not one of those adults either.

The Sad but True

2005-04-26T21:34:00.000-06:00

I've never much cared for this weblog. It's a place for me to post when I feel like it, to spew a little bit; an outlet to keep people updated, or at least convince myself that they may care in some capacity since I left college and as a result depleted my friend network to nearly nothing. I've never been a regular poster and I have tried to get my page up and going. Tried to be interesting. Tried a lot of things. But I always feel inadequate when I read the pages of amazing webloggers and know that maybe (just maybe) I could be like them.

I've been writing for years, funny stuff, award winning stuff, semi-published stuff. I'd say my 7th grade English teacher, Phyll, put it best when she said, "I hated having you in my class; one day you'd come in and write the best work I'd ever read by any student, college or otherwise, and the next you'd have some crumpled up piece of paper with nonsense sprawled on it. I'd think you weren't better than 5th grade."

It's always comes down to the same thing...I'd rather read The Slaughterhouse Five again than write about Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. But I would write a poem in iambic pentameter about bulimia before I would go ride my bike around the block. My first term paper my senior year was on books about Hitler between the world wars. I turned it in late and got a B. My second was on Lotte Lenya, a staple actress in Bertholt Brecht plays and the wife of Brecht's composer Kurt Weill. I poured my heart and soul into this term paper so much, I was bawling and had to have someone else turn it in for me. I couldn't bear to let it go and be judged. (It puts a lump in my throat still)

This was my problem in college. I hated my classes. "Old Testament as History 204" would take backseat to my going to the theatre to learn how to walk like a sex goddess while wearing 7 inch heels. I'd rather volunteer to fix lights than write a paper about the plausibility of the Senate accepting Socrates' fine. But I'd rather write a paper about Descartes than journal about my sexually repressed "Romantic Poetry" professor talking about what the sea represents in poems about ships.

The point is, I apologize for being a failure and disappointment in the "blogosphere"' not being like Bouncer X, who is amazingly hilarious and unbelievably cool and grotesquely talented. The title of this post is a link to his site. Get hooked on him if you want a great read. (PS-I feel the need to admit that I would really like little more than to be listed on his BlogRoller, or at least to know that every now and then he may come and check out the fro and not find it bitterly disheartening that people such as myself read and appreciate his skill)

Am I Drunk Yet?

2005-04-26T15:21:00.000-06:00

I'm just saying for the record, this week cannot go fast enough. I am more than 100% ready to be 21 and it's about fucking time.

For those of you who don't already know, the title is sometimes a link. Right now it links to a webpage where a Willamette student once held the top honor for nearly a year and a half. It's really gone downhill.

2005-04-22T15:39:00.000-06:00

I stole this from K-La-La; her answer to the last question was so sweet, I'll never find a better friend than her, I swear.

10 REALLY RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME

1. I am embarassed enough about dropping out of college to refer to myself in conversation as a college opt-out.
2. I have never had a vocal lesson in my life.
3. My stepmother had 2 things I wish I had: a T-Shirt that said, "If you don't like my peaches, Don't shake the tree" and a romantic relationship with Rob Lowe.
4. I met Brian Setzer on a street corner in Boise. That's where I meet all the rich men, wink. I told him he looked like Brian Setzer. He said, "Yeah, I'm Brian."
5. I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep in a bed without a feather mattress cover again and get a good night's sleep.
6. My good friend Dave's first girlfriend's name was Sharon. Sharon Barto.
7. I get scared while shopping for baby showers.
8. I get scared applying for really good jobs.
9. I live in a city with an entire week-long festival dedicated to floating the river. I have lived here all my life. I have never floated the river.
10. I am dieting to reach a misses size 11/12. The last time I was in that size was the summer of my fifth grade year.

9 WAYS TO WIN MY HEART

1. Let me catch you staring at me. I makes me feel awkward and beautiful at the same time. Butterflies...
2. Know when to laugh at me and don't make me be all gushy. I'm not your schmoopie, you dig?
3. No matter how much you dislike it, don't tell me that the music I listen to is dumb or meaningless or sold out. Better yet. Like it. If I feel like we have this in common, I will be yours for longer than I should be.
4. Make me laugh.
5. Make me feel beautiful. Touch me when you don't have to, show me you're not with me just because you're desperate.
6. Never, ever ignore me; I'll accept no lovin' if you're busy or not in the mood, but being ignored makes me doubt my worth and you don't want me to break up with you because I don't feel lie I deserve to be with anyone, do you?
7. Hug me for a long time. Press your hips against me. That's hot.
8. Make something for me. Yes, just something. Spelling my name with the garden hose would count. Spelling it with urine would be borderline. It depends where you wrote it and whether you wrote my whole name or my nickname.
9. Dance with me. (I want to be your partner, can't you see? The music is just starting. Night is calling and I am falling. Dance with me.)

8 THINGS I CARRY/WEAR EVERYDAY

1. Dr Feelgood (benefit)
2. Mascara (Rimmell)
3. SPF 30 face and body moisturizer (Oil of Olay)
4. bra (preferrably push-up)
5. earrings (usually silver chandeliers or drops)
6. lipstick
7. debit card
8. cigaretes

7 THINGS THAT ANNOY ME

1. People with runny noses, especially when it's quiet time.
2. Jeans that lie and say they're low rise talls when they actually sit at my natural waist and are too short to wear with flats.
3. Sitting down to type on my page and not being able to think of anything to write.
4. When I say stupid things and I know I am smarter than that.
5. My cat laying on my face when I'm about to fall asleep.
6. Underwear.
7. When guys ask me where they can find a girl like me, but what they mean is, "Where can I find a girl like you who is also pretty". Fuckin' bastards.

6 PLACES I'VE VISITED

1. The Precious Moments Chapel and theme park
2. The Tom Mix Museum
3. Wall Drug Store
4. The Prairie Dog Village
5. Nowata, Oklahoma
6. Hoots Highway Cafe

THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE

1. See The Moldy Peaches perform live.
2. Streak in London.
3. Dance/play/make-out in a public fountain.
4. Sing in a nightclub.
5. Go on a cruise.

4 THINGS I'M AFRAID OF

1. Not doing any of those 5 things.
2. Thinking I am better than I am, having been lied to all these years.
3. My chef roommate not liking the food I make.
4. Not being able to lose weight. Feeling unattractive for the rest of my life

3 THINGS I DO EVERYDAY

1. Pee.
2. Smoke.
3. Talk on the phone.

2 THINGS I'M TRYING NOT TO DO NOW

1. Eat another piece of chocolate birthday cake. My diet today has been really good and I allowed myself a little piece (smaller than a brownie, seriously), but that was a big mistake. I've had three tall glasses of water just trying to get rid of the taste.
2. Get too bummed out about all the old friends I've been digging up online

1 PERSON I WANT TO SEE NOW

1. KLaLa. And that's not just reciprocation of her saying she wanted to see me. I miss her so much it makes me want to run to Salem. If I knew I wouldn't lose my job, I'd just take off and do it.

You Know, the Green Stuff

2005-04-22T13:23:00.000-06:00

So I put in an application for another job on Wednesday. It's with Idaho Power at their remote Boise substation and it's very similar in nature to what I do now, except I'd be answering phones after hours and taking info on outages and preparing the IVRU and giving emergencies out to dispatchers for only one company instead of 200. I'd also have a wonky work scgedule, which could suck, but for $15 dollars an hour, I'd deal with it. That's right; fifteen dollars an hour. And if I don't like it, I can always come back to the answering service, but I'd like a lot of things for that money.

Anyway, the supervisor out there used to work wih my mom and he was originally the one who recruited me from Adecco to work at Idaho Power as a clerk when I was a senior in high school. Now he told my mom to tell me to apply and he read my cover letter and helped me out with it, so I'm pretty hopeful to get an interview this time. I didn't last time, so it was weird to apply this time. But I am excited to maybe get on this time.

If not, I may be able to milk it for a raise here. That and moving to days and this whole birthday fiasco may get me bumped up to $10.50 if I'm lucky.

Mania

2005-04-19T15:21:00.000-06:00

If yesterday was a peak, today is a valley. I am having the shittiest day and I almost just quit my job. I have had my birthday on the calendar for over a month and I just had my boss tell me I would have to work at 7 in the morning two days after my 21st. I'm going to be so drunk, they're probably going to send me home, and they'll be mad at me, but I told her if you shedule me at seven I'll probably be really hung over. she can suck me sideways.

What's your url, K-La?

Thanks, James, You Said It

2005-04-18T10:32:00.000-06:00

I feel good
(De-nuh-de-nuh-de-nuh-dunh)
And I knew that I would naah
(De-nuh-de-nuh-de-nuh-dunh)
So good
(dunh-dunh)
So good
(dunh)
I got you
(bum-bum-bum-bum)
WAAAAAAAA!

I must say it feels good to back on this website, wriitng what I want and saying stuff after so long of dedicating myself to work and home and nothing else. I was just reading some of my other posts and I find it so hard to believe that I wrote that stuff. If I weren't the author, I'd probably be glad to pop in and check out this page and see what I was up to. I know that sounds conceited, but I think it just means that since the advent of this weblog I've had not only a healthy sense of humor and whimsy, but a healthy sense of self esteem. And I don't think that's anything to be upset about.

Now that I know I'm worth something, (wink) It's time to start directing my friends to come read up on me and my sparkling wit and verve. (imagine me smiling with big teeth at the camera, maybe a chime and a flash on one of the teeth, you know how it goes)

The Love I Take

2005-04-17T12:36:00.000-06:00

I just got done writing an email to Chris Harris, the co-chair of the theatre department at my former university. He was amazing to work with and a totally cool guy and a lot of the reason I left. He made sure that I knew to go where I needed to go to be happy and fulfilled, basically told me to follow my heart, even (perhaps especially) if it were leading me away from Willamette. I really respect and adore him and his quirky caringness. I hope he knows that.

Limber Up! It's National Kick Yourself Day

2005-04-14T19:38:00.000-06:00

I've just been on LiveJournal, checking out the recent doings of friends I've so neglected, and beating myself up about not being a good enough friend to KLaLa to even have her address so I can mail her this letter I wrote to her. And while snooping into the not-so-private-as-to-conceal-them-from-the-net-users goings-on of my hopefully still best friend's life, I decided to check on my other pal from WU (Wu Hoo!), CHunt. Last time I talked to her she was going to get married and move to Boise in June, now she's married and honeymooned and in Mountain Home, a mere 45 minutes away from me and it's only April...

Which reminds me, I needs to do my taxes.

Anyway, back to the nonsense about my being an awful friend. It seems I've been so caught up in my boring day to day that I've forgotten about the people of yesterday and how important they are to me. Notice I don't say were. I mean are! They still are so important. I still desperately wish I were back in a place I fled from for my own sanity, just to be near them. So if you guys haven't completely forgotten about me, I just want to say to Carly and Kristin: I miss you so much. I wish I were more involved in each of your lives and I apologize that I am not, and cannot be, really. I's like to know that you guys are doing okay and for entirely egocentric reasons that you might miss me too.

WHY?

2005-02-08T22:30:00.000-07:00

DO I LIKE Airedale TERRIERS SO DAMN MUCH?

Another In a Long List of Reasons...

2005-02-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

...to move out:

I am sick. I have been sick for four days. I've been losing my voice, I have a constant post nasal drip, and I throw up two or three times a day, usually in the morning/early afternoon when I get out of bed. (No, I'm not pregnant. The life span of a sperm cell in "the womb" is less that the amount of time I can survive without sex.) Today I threw up around 5AM and went back to bed and slept until around 1:20pm. When I did get up, I was a little sick, so I started to make my way to the bathroom. I passed Lindsey, who is moving into my spot when I move out, and she cheerfully said, "Good Morning" to me. Blaine then said, "It's not morning anymore. It's afternoon". I wanted to deck him.

If he were sick, I'd be making him homemade chicken noodle soup, not treating him like shit because he wasn't out of bed before noon. I'd probably actually be upset with him if he was out of bed before noon. I'd make him lay down with a heating pad and a quilt and a bowl of broth until he was better. It makes me so mad today.

Lazy

2005-01-27T20:17:00.000-07:00

3 names you go by:
SamSam
SamBird
Samorama

3 parts of your heritage:
German
British
African (not discernibly, mind you)

3 things that scare you:
Ladders
Loving someone more than they love me
Having people one day fight over who has to take me home, or take care of me

3 of your everyday essentials:
Coffee
Music
A Notebook or novel

3 things you’re wearing right now:
Satin
Lace
A Push-up Bra (I have the DDs, why not shove 'em up to my chin?)

3 of your favorite bands/artists (today):
Adam Green
Kurt Elling
The Strokes

3 of your favorite songs at present:
Can You See Me? by Adam Green
The Waters of March by Mark Murphy
Little Black Numbers by Kathryn Williams

3 new things you want to try in the next 12 months:
Lose 80 lbs
Get at tattoo
Get laid a lot (Hey, it's worth a try, right?)

3 things you want in a relationship (love is a given):
Laughter
Physical desire
Devotion

2 truths and a lie:
I've had sex in an elevator
I've peed my pants because I was too busy talking to a cute boy
I've attempted to commit suicide

3 physical things about a love interest that appeal:
Carriage (He holds himself as if he were unashamedly naked, even fully clothed
Smile (Coy, sexy, innocent, beaming, sly...they all work. A smile is the first form of flirtation, an invitation)
Some sign of rebellion (tattoo, long hair, piercing, etc)

3 things you just can't do:
Whistle
Remember to wash my face twice a day
Be mean to someone just because I've had a crappy day (I always cry and apologize within about two minutes; I'm so sad a specimen)

3 of your favorite hobbies:
Singing (soft and sweet, loud and obnoxious, alone or with the CD...)
Imagining/Daydreaming
Getting myself pretty

3 things you want to do really badly right now:
Go home
Get undressed
Sleep in my own bed

3 careers you’re considering:
Actress
Singer
Beautician

3 places you want to go on vacation:
New York City
London
Jazzdagen Carribean Cruise with Blue Street Jazz Band

3 kids names (either boy or girl):
Kieran/Kiera
Dean or Reed (It's a tie)
Ella

3 Things you want to do before you die:
Sing in a smoky nightclub
Run naked through the streets of New York
Own a home

sORRY

2005-01-16T16:36:00.000-07:00

I feel somehow deathly tired when I think about posting lately. Nothing to say except I apologize, guy, for not entertaining you better.

A Very Merry Un-New Year's to You (And YOU!!)

2005-01-03T17:37:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I haven't been updating as often as I should. I've been so busy being all over the place between Christmas and work and New Year's and rent and power bills and all of that mixed with being hated and loved and loving an hating. It's been a passionate few days.

I am devastated that I missed out on an opportunity to see Carly-pie. It seems she was "socializing" with her fiancee and we kept missing each other. Like phone tag, except it was like I was it and I'd tag her and she'd ignore me. She wouldn't take the it. I cried and cried. It's not like she can ignore me the whole time she lives here. It's just going to be the longest 5/6 months of my life, waiting desperately to be 21...I mean...waiting for Carly to come.

On the other side (of a town ripped in two), I had an amazing New Year's celebration that lasted three days and had cute boys and great friends and funny jokes and a bunch of vanilla vodka and ginger ale and creme de cacao and champagne and great conversation. fireside chats, sleeping on leather, low cut satin shirts, Nat Sherman Fantasia cigarettes, puzzles, pizza, a Carey Grant movie and a reality show makeover of Vince Neil. I was loved and cared for and teased and complimented and prodded and approved of from all sides. What a glorious way to start the year. And I have a little crush on an actor I met at this party, but I can't really say who, can I? I mean, this is the public domain...

Sigh.

I also went and paid rent today and picked out colors for the family room. And I am going to clean my room and put away a month's worth of laundry that I just did and now have lying in the middle of my floor.

If there's anything you desire to know about my absence, just ask. I love to talk about myself, you know.

HoHoHos Don't Marry Anyone, Even Christmas

2004-12-27T22:09:00.000-07:00

Ho Ho Fucking Ho!
What a crock of shit
We all work for Santa Claus
We've had enough
We quit!
'Cause we do all the fuckin' work
while he stars in the show
Stick your Christmas up your ass
Ho Ho Fucking Ho!

Well, I'd have to say after all it was a good Christmas. I got a gym membership and a New Years outfit and a toaster and a blender and a bunch of fake green pearl costume jewelry and underwear with high heels on them. I had to work, which wasn't half bad, considering I made nearly $20 an hour.

And Now When I Clap My Hands, You Will Wake Up and Maul the Cutest Guy in the Audience

2004-12-19T16:16:00.000-07:00

I have always been fascinated at the idea of being hypnotized. Not just to lose weight or quit smoking or remember what I saw my grandma doing to my first boyfriend in the den that Christmas, although all of those would be fabulous...No, I'm primarily interested in the public embarrassment factor. Yes, put some people on a stage, convince them they're on fire or in love with you or a country singer. You're in for hours of entertainment, and everyone knows there's no better entertainment than the kind at someone else's expense.

That said, I've been gone for a long time.

Carly, flaming Rum Punch is off. KLaLa, I lost my Theatre contact sheet, so I couldn't call you on your birthday, but I celebrated in your absense, don't hate be because I supposedly forgot. I didn't, okay. Justin, you don't ever read this, or if you do, you never comment.

Oh, yeah, I am having the periods of two months this week, so don't think I'm just being bitchy. I am just...being bitchy. By the way, there's a really cool tampon company called ditties. Love them. Their website, linked in the title, has a bowling game where the bowling pins are tampons. Too funny.

Carly, you and I and my roommate and my few beautiful friends will get together to celebrate Saturnalia and have flaming rum punch, but it's not going to be a crazy time like I thought. KLaLa, I wish you could come. You chould try reeeally hard. Maybe we can call Sahron Baron to come and have a few drinks with us. It turns out she was the first girlfriend of one of my best friends here in town. Odd.

Anyway. I love and have missed you guys. There's not much to report, no boys, no acting, no money. On the other hand, Christmas is coming. More importantly New Years is coming. Best of all, CHUNT is coming! Also I just had Channukah and my one month anniversary of my apartment and I had croquetas at gernika and Tom was brilliant in a play that was just like my job. But more about croquetas and plays later. Right now I have to write about movies, as I've been invited to join The Reel Deal, although I know nothing of movies.

Happy Thanksgiving, Little Jew!

2004-11-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

Well, up the holidays sneak like something really sneaky. Who knew that tomorrow was Thanksgiving? Who let the busy holiday spending season get so close so suddenly? Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? I don't know, but I can tell you who didn't do all that...ME!!!

As I was walking past the Egyptian Theatre downtown a couple days ago, I realized they were playing It's a Wonderful Life already, every morning at 9:45, admission is free with a can of food. Blaine ad I went and saw it today and cried and cried with happiness and sadness and laughter and comfort and joy. Then we drove the four blocks home (we had been running late getting to the film) and reveled for a moment in the glory of our old home, seemingly plucked straight from Bedford Falls itself. Then I went and got some stuff from home and drove to work.

When we first moved in I was obsessed with making ice, I'd check it three or four times a day until I saw it wasn't wet inside anymore and then dump it into the ice bucket and refill the tray. Yesterday I decided we had enough ice and didn't refill the tray. I've been trying to find ways to otherwise occupy my time. Making dinner, tea, bathing, dressing, undressing, knitting exciting underwear...Walking downtown, dancing around, reading, anything that doesn't require my turning on the TV.

I also work a good deal, and mmm, I'm working Thanksgiving 5 hours. Sam the boy and I are going to get some Jones Holiday soda and hope and pray that we don't have a high call volume. I hope that you are all eating solid turkey and gravy and mashed potatoes and butter and cranberry sauce and green bean casserole and fruitcake, instead of drinking the carbonated version I'll be fighting through tomorrow night.

Then I have a month to get my house gorgey for my Christmas/Housewarming get together, complete with mulled wine and wassail and spiked cider and flaming rum punch...Oh, the holidays.

Well, I have a movie to catch tomorrow morning, so I must needs go home and sleep.

Taking the Good with the Ass-Pounding (aka "the Bad")

2004-11-16T23:21:00.000-07:00

It seems that as I have no credit, I can't get my own cell phone, seperate from my family's plan, without a $400 deposit!! And it's not like I just have $400 laying around that I can give to a wireless company to just hold for me. So I will be getting a lovely, pre-paid phone in January, when my contract is up with Verizon. I'm thinking Virgin Mobile. Yes, Virgin. Just like me. (Picture me smiling innocently, bowing my head to show just a hint of my little halo. I'm also thin and gorgeous and wearing a gauzy white dress with flowers and ribbons in my long, dark, wavy hair. Impressive, no?)

And, of course, the good news is that I have enough cash in my purse for a pita, chicken ceasar with hummus. Yum. And I am going to see Sideways tomorrow, if all works well, and yes, I feel too good to not make it work well.

The moral is this: I don't mind taking it up the ass if I find some cash in my purse later.

Good Dreams, Good Reality

2004-11-16T01:25:00.000-07:00

Last night I had dream about everything good in the world. Money and silk and being thin and sex with cute boys.

Last week I signed a lease on an apartment with my good friend Blaine and I'm moving in on Thursday. It's right downtown and is a Victorian with so many windows and hardwood floors and a wet-bar in a bedroom.

See, good news all around.

It Never Ends

2004-11-15T14:55:00.000-07:00

Random Question #4: If you were to get married right now, what song would you pick for the bride and groom's first dance?

If by some miracle "Mr Right Now" lost the Now and wanted to get married tomorrow, and I didn't wake up before the honeymoon (man, I love the wedding/passionate sex dream, but that's another post, innit?), I would probably want our song to be the first dance. And I don't mean Elton John. I mean the song that embodies our relationship.

For David and I it was "Lady in Red", which may be inappropriate for a white wedding, but then again, if I were marrying David, I'd probably wear red, so no biggie.

If K-La-La and I were getting married, the song would have to be "Live and Let Die" (duh-nuh-nuh, duh-nuh-nuh, duh-nuh-nuh; duh-nuh-nuh, duh-nuh-nuh Da Daaa). But we might just sing it instead of dancing to it, as neither of us can really dance. Not that I don't try, 'cause I do, and K-La-La may be a whiz kid on the floor, but I'll be damned if anyone but Kurt can get her out there.

If Kurt and I got married, (well, we don't have a song, and I wouldn't marry Kurt, but this is a hypothetical) I'd say we should dance to "Waiting For Tonight" because that karaoke song bound us together in drunkenness once. Oh, Glory Be.

I had a brief, yet fruitful relationship with a boy named Steve, and if things had gone (way) differently, he and I would have danced to "Anyone Else But You".

I guess those are all the real relationships I've had. I'm reminded of a song that began, "I've had no luck with love, or not enough to say..."

Givin' Him Sumthin' He Can Feel

2004-11-13T09:02:00.000-07:00

We (Me) here at FroPuff Organization...Or I guess this little fat girl (gordita?) with big hair...I like to give my readership what they want, and since it seems 100% of the readers were faunching at the bit to see me answer the tough questions, Babwa Wawtews Style, I feel compelled to answer these doosies:

Random Question #1: If you could be any cartoon character, who would you be?

Well, readers, this is truly a difficult query. Who would I be? I've though about this for a long time, and I'm genuinely stumped. My first instinct is to say that funny-talkin' mom from Bobby's World, Doncha know? Because how great would it be to know you're pretty much the only good thing about the show you're in? But then again, how awful would it be to have come from the imagination of Howie Mandel? *Shudders*

I then thought I could say I wanted to be one of the Power Puff Girls, but I don't know their names, nor have I ever even watched their show. It just seemed like a good thing to say at the time, and I'll be damned if I let that be all I give you K-La-La, DAMNED!

I guess I find it hard to answer this question because I find the human cartoons more interesting than most. The baby from The Family Guy is unnaturally funny. Lisa Simpson, though jaundiced, is highly respectable. Peggy Hill is the nearly perfect woman, despite her sad political views. Yes, even I can show respect for a Bush-supporter, especially if the actress playing her is very much a democrat.

But I guess I would be lying if I didn't say that the cartoon character I'd most like to be is Sleeping Beauty. First of all, Duh, she is beautiful and she gets to sleep for a long time. She slept through a lot or the movie. Plus, her world is the best animated world ever. Prince Phillip is the best looking Prince in Disney history, unless you like that longhair, hippie Eric...And she sings a great song and she has a pretty dress and a lot of people who care about her, three of whom also happen to have wings and can make themselves very smalll. And Malificent is a wicked cool villain. And if you have to be plagued by a villain, why not a wicked cool one?

Random Question #2: If you could only keep one of your senses, which would it be?

Well, I think the only real viable option is touch. I would be an invalid any way you looked at it. I don't care about sight so much if I can't touch things that I see or smell them or taste them or hear them. That'd be like being underwater, but in a bad way.

Smell and taste would be equally useless if you didn't have any other senses. I mean, you smell dookie but you can't see where it is so you just walk in a direction that you think is away. But it's actually towards. And it's not just a dog turd, but a huge pile of composting cow shit and you trip and fall, but you don't really feel like you tripped and fell and you don't feel that you are now covered in sticky, slimy, mushy, green poo. You just smell it. And you have to know you are covered in feces, and not be able to do anything about it. But at least you don't have to see the look of disgust on people's faces as you wander around aimlessly trying to smell your way home, disoriented by the pervading smell of crap that you can't shake off.

I'm sure something similar would apply to taste...you can taste the honey, but not feel it dribble out of your mouth and down your chin. Or worse, someone decides to play a prank on you, knowing you can't see or hear or smell or feel...They walk up behind you, screaming that they're gonna pee in your mouth, and then they do, but you didn't hear them coming and you didn't see or hear them unzip their pants and you didn't feel them climb up onto your wheelchair. Sad.

I don't think this needs much more explanation. You didn't ask me why, dammit! I choose touch. Period.

Random Question #3: Do you want to shoot me in the face for asking silly questions?

Not atall. I love you.

Wuchoo Wanna Know

2004-11-10T22:27:00.000-07:00

Now that my readership has multiplied exponentially, I was thinking of starting a question and answer page hwre I could answer any questions you have about me or my life or stuff in general. What do one you think (all of you seemed a little showy)? Or you could just ask me a question. That's be cool. I could answer it right on this page.

M*A*S*H is on. It's a great book and movie, if you care to know.

The Truth, and I'd Never Lie, Trust Me

2004-11-09T15:28:00.000-07:00

When I answer the phone, I'm not thinking of ways to try and hinder your success. I willingly promise I am not trying to make your life harder, I will help you as much as I can without putting my job in jeopardy. I have called doctors at home and paged them overhead at country clubs. I will dial every number in any account before I tell you "tough luck," I swear.

People seem to think that I have a stash box that I carry around that has super-amazing fix-all numbers and a wand as a last resort. That if they say the magic words, I will open the box and solve all their problems.

IT ISN'T TRUE

I promise I'm not holding out on you. Like I said, I will do what I can, but if I say, "All I can do is email him a message," I don't mean, "I have his cell phone and home phone and the numbers for all his closest friends and family, and actually he's standing right here, but I don't want to get his attention because I like to make you suffer. On top of that, you're a bitch." If you then repeat your name and situation umpteen times to me, so that I have to say, "Like I said, all I can do is send him an email," so many times that I feel as if I should just be sampled and played back in a Fat Boy Slim 'song'...Well...The subtext will certainly be, "I wish I had all that stuff and that I wouldn't lose my job if I called you a bitch and I wish you were here so I could smash an egg in your face. Oh, and I wish I had some eggs."

I guess the whole point of this is: I'm pissed off, I like eggs, and there is no all-encompassing "Oh, well in that case..." phrase that will get you what you want from someone on the phone. Just deal with it, call during office hours, suck it up or suck it. On top of that, you're a bitch.

No Net at Home

2004-11-07T22:41:00.000-07:00

Well, I've got "Dowloading Porn With Dave-O" stuck in my head and I have no internet at home, so I'm still here at work. Fun for me, but no so much fun for Bob, I assume. Plus, it's not really much fun for me either.

I thought about Kyle a lot today. Kyle is this guy I went to high school with, one of my good friends. I met him one day after school when he was walking to his locker after some orchestra practice or some-such nonsense. That day in my theater class I had done an improv with Taylor Bell...This is a much more drawn-out story than I had intended, but I'm still going to tell it.

When I was just starting school my mother was renting houses all around Boise, ID, my hometown. I never went to one school for a entire year until fifth grade; Cynthia Mann was the school, and I started going there halfway through fourth grade. I was in Jaci Guilford's class, and she was the kind of teacher who had access to inordinate amounts of clay and kiln time. I think she maybe had a kiln in her home, who knows? Anyway, we did lots of clay-centric art projects. Of course I don't still have any of those clumsy fourth-grade clay masterpieces, but I remember a few things from that time.

One: Rachelle Huerta, the bane of my existence, we had the same size breasts, ginormous for fourth grade, but she of course was svelte and wore a bra, making her the most popular girl in school, until we got a black chick, gasp. (Side note: Rachelle dropped off the social stratosphere once the rest of the girls started developing and the black chick now works at WalMart, ha) She hated me and my baby fat, which has yet to melt away as promised.

Two: Aaron King, who sat next to me and ate paper. One time he put one arm of his sweater up to his ear and hoisted the other arm above his head. He claimed he was collecting brain waves. I said, "What waves?" The girl on the other side of him said, "What brain?" This was a crucial step toward my becoming witty and fabulous...If only I had thought to say, "What brain?'; the thought haunts me still.

Three: Taylor Bell. The boy who was likewise pudgy, but already witty and fabulous and mostly popular, who hated me with the fire of a thousand suns. We had the same teacher every year until Jr Hi, when we each became friends, uniting in a common hatred of our choir teacher, as well as a deep and abiding passion for changing the words of chorale music to include references to Viagra. Upon a later perusal of his fourth and fifth grade yearbooks, we noticed that he had seen fit to draw two lines through my name, as opposed to the one line for everyone else he hated...

FF to sophomore year...

Taylor and I are on stage, improving that we are blind bank robbers, obviously an egregious improv failure, blast it all. But after class, I stayed behind to talk to Tom Willmorth (now mentor and good friend) about our affinity for each other, including a shortened version of what I just shared with you.

I left the drama office with a smile on my face and a song in my heart for Taylor, oh Taylor, you wonderful creature, you. Or that wonderful creature, that, as he doesn't read this. And I happened upon a spindly boy with some stringed instrument in a case (violin? viola?) and his friend, who is not important.

Their obvious musicality led me to stop them with an anecdote. In choir one year we were asked to form words from the musical alphabet (A,B,C,D,E,F,G, fin). Taylor thought it witty to form the word fece, apparently the singular of the well-known word feces.

This is the story that binds Kyle to me. We have been friends ever since. I love him. Kyle King, I love you. Unless you read this...then I only like you a lot in the way that means you're a good friend and I don't want to marry you or even see your penis.

Happy, Happy! Joy, Joy!!!

2004-11-07T15:44:00.000-07:00

This week I received an email from my good pal Justin just checking up on me. It was short, but sweet, and it made me smile. And it inspired me to drop in on the livejournals of my friends Kristin and Carly and I dropped them little notes, read up on the happenings of their lives.

KLaLa (Kristin, KRKTheArtist) and I are both British Columbia according to Quizilla. Carly will be in Idaho for Christmas. My other friend Kyle will be back in Boise for Thanksgiving, and he wants to hang out with me (joy of all joys!). I might be moving out of my parents house by Thanksgiving, just as The Flying Pie Eight Ball predicted. I turned twenty ad a half. It's been a great week.

Oh, KLaLa, if you read this, email me. I have a little scheme I'd like to discuss with you.

VayKay

2004-11-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

So, as all of you know, since "all of you" is just a way that I like to refer to myself (the only reader of this weblog) so that I can feel important and loved...Basically, as I know...

I am coming up on the month anniversary of my big VayKay...Basically I am the biggest blog procrastinator of all time. Except of course for Kevin of TJs Place, who is still watching the Olympics...

All that I really wanted to say was that I was psyched and amped beyond belief at the beauty of my trip to the jazz festival. I am a veteran of the festival and have been going for quite some time, almost entirely under the assumption that it would one day be as grand as it was this year.

I have always been a huge fan of the Blue Street Jazz Band, and this year I was fortunate enough to get to chill with three of the members for countless smoke-breaks. Brtilliant and surprisingly nice fellows who gave me nicknames like "Sam Smoker" and "Smoker Sam". Yeah, those are the only two, but they still make me giddy. And one of them said he looked forward to seeing me next year. Fabu.

The other wondrous thing about Sun Valley this year was that they didn't card me. Not even in the liquor store. It was like being...I wanted to write something deep and intelligent. Something like, "It was like being released from the chains of sobriety after twenty long years of anticipation and suffering." But in reality it was just more like being 21. Go on, Sun Valley, whet my appetite, get me all good and ready and send me back to the sad sad reality of liquor laws. You evil bitch.

Anyway, now that I've completed the story of my grand and illustrious trip, I can move on to bigger and better things, just wait...you'll never believe it. Either that or you'll never hear from me again. Or maybe you just won't hear from me in a long long time. Actually that's pretty likely...

Bring Me Up (To Date) Before you Go-Go

2004-10-19T16:53:00.000-06:00

I know it's been ages, but then again, no one reads this nonsense, so no harm done, but I did really want to do this right. Damn! I made me promises, promises, I knew I'd never keep ... Promises, Promises ...

I know I'm lame beyond belief, but a great deal has happened since last you heard from me. You know what that means...even lame people like me are having cool things happen all the time...It just proves my theory that the world is a pretty cool place to be. I'm in a pretty good mood. I look pretty shitty, but it's pretty much okay. I feel pretty...oh, so pretty...

So the big news is, of course, my big vacation to Sun Valley for the Swing 'n' Dixie Jazz Festival, from which I returned late Sunday evening. I had a grand old time, just as I always do, and I made some new friends, young and old, pretty and ugly, cheap and easy...

I have been planning this trip, in essence for five years, since I frist attended the festival and decided to come back every year, I've just been waiting for the festival to be this fabulous.

More later...

Shiny Happy Fits of Rage

2004-10-06T01:05:00.000-06:00

Well, damn. The Moldy Peaches are performing on the wrong night of the wrong week in the wrong town. First of all, for those of you who do not know, MP is my favorite band of all time. They broke up last year. And worse than the tragedy inherent in the breakup of your favorite band, is the desparaging thought that they will be getting back together to perform at a fundraiser for a little-known record label. In New York. When you live in Boise. And actually HAVE the money to go, but have purchased tickets to a traditional jazz festival for that week. Tickets that cannot be returned. And you've made plans to stay with a good friend, who has been getting ready for two months. And there is no way you can go. Even though you can afford to.

Oh, how I wish I were going to be in New York middle of next week. I could see Ira Amyx, meet Adam Green and Kimya Dawson and The Bounncer. I could see the Atlantic ocean. I'm so mad at my obligations. That's it. I will go to New York and London in the summer of 2006 and live it up, just me, KLaLa and the two greatest cities on Earth. I promise. And then I'll move to one of them. Yes, move there. Live there. For at least seven years. Mark my words.

Gym, Spa, Support Group...What Else Does it Do?

2004-10-03T21:41:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow marks the grand opening of ShapeXpress, a new women's gym opening just down the street from my home. I was invited to come down and visit the facility for a small circuit training session and introduction to the company with my fourteen-year-old sister. We popped in around 4 and met with Connie, one of five trainers who staff the gym fourteen hours every day. Just inside the door is the main body of the facility, a large room, in the center of which is a circle formation of weight training machines and cardio platformas and aerobic stepboxes, 26 stations for circuit training, 30 seconds at each station, alternating cardio and weight training.

Off to the right is a rack of free weights, a stretching area, a couple of body balls, a gated children's area and a technicolor oasis painted on the walls (by a couple of beautiful boys, from the back, mmm, shoulders).

Beyond the thunderdome...I mean...circuit training area (oops), is a small room with a stationary bike, treadmill and elliptical machine. They're facing a shelf on the wall that house 3 TVs with cable and individual headphones, so I can watch my morning VH1 while I spend an hour on the elliptical. And also nearby is the massage room, with massege table and oils galore.

And then, in the locker room are two infrared saunas, a double headed shower with shower massagers, bottles and bottles of free Aveda products for hair and body(to be used on the premises, not like handouts, although that would be nice), a professional blow dryer, ceramic straightener and curling iron, and two little women's rooms.

I am stoked to join and am feeling the effect of the minute interval circuit training already. Ask me about my beustiful new body next month and I'll tell you if it's worth six hundred dollars a year.

(If you are gasping right now, just remember, I work at a company that requires its employees to sit at a computer all day, a prctise leading to a lot of wide asses. In an effort to combat the fat growth inherent with an operator position, my company has agreed to give me $150 dollars toward the cost of my gym membership every year. Also, the membership is buy one get one free. I pay 300, my mom pays 300, I get 150 back...See how that works. Don't worry friends: I'm still as frugal as ever.)

So Not to be Ashamed

2004-10-01T19:00:00.000-06:00

I have revamped vicsfro to be this new weblog for two main reasons:

1) I have changed in too many ways since I started vicsfro to maintain it with the same joy. The glossary no longer applies; the friends have evolved; the locale is different; I am in many ways not the same person. And I am saying this. If even I can discern the change in my life and personality, I've changed.

2) I all of a sudden find myself in a position to surf the writings of other webnerds and comment on their often brilliant posts. And these members of the weblog community reciprocate affection for each other in these comments. It is a little neighborhood of supportiveness (not a real word, someone slightly less evil and wordy would have just said 'support'). And I desire to be a part of this neighborhood. I want a little house in the big woods. A Victorian. With hardwood floors and a bay window. And can you guess what color my door would be?