Monday, February 27, 2006

Brownie


When I was ten I had a dog named Brownie. She kind of looked like this, (especially her nose).

I was an angry kid so I didn't always treat Brownie very well. Once I made Brownie choose between my brother and I. We stood apart and both called her name and clapped our hands for her to come to us and poor Brownie looked very confused.

Then, after a few doggie eye-brow tilts she ambled toward my brother. I was furious and vowed never to show her affection again. After all the things I did for her, I gave her food and water, I combed her matty hair, I rubbed her little belly...and this is the thanks I get!

One day after piano lessons I looked out toward the backyard and noticed that Brownie was gone. "Where's Brownie?" I asked my dad. He said that she ran away but I knew that wasn't true. Brownie sometimes ran around but she always found her way back to the house eventually. I knew my dad had done what he had long threatened to do. He took her to the pound. He never liked Brownie much either.

And then I felt guilty for all those times I witheld my affection. I never had a chance to tell her I was sorry for being such a bad owner.

One day I hope I can get another dog that looks just like Brownie and shower that mutt with all the love in the world. But I won't let her near my brother...you know, just in case.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

The Bet

I've always been confidant in my pop culture knowledge (and condescending of Michael's). That's why I brazenly bet Michael that it was Phil Collins who sang the Lion King song "Can you feel the love tonight?"

Michael kept insisting it was that "gay guy from England."
"Who? Elton John?" I said.

"Yeah, Elton John!" Michael replied.

"No! It was Phil Collins!" I retorted, "I'll bet you! A hundred dollars from my clothes budget into your book budget if I lose, and vice versa if I win."

"Fine! Bet's on!" He said with full confidance.
"Gosh, you are so dumb. You are SO going to lose!" I thought to myself.

We raced over to Amazon.com and found this:



You probably can't see it, but the cover lists Elton John on it. NOOOO!

So, it would appear that I lost the bet. But I was unable to concede defeat just yet because I SWEAR I saw Phil Collins singing a Disney movie song on TV once!!! So I did a little sleuthing and came up with this:


You may be able to see that it says "Music by Phil Collins."

I felt semi-vindicated. I mean, it's easy to confuse the two! They're both Disney movies with music from fading pop stars of the eighties and both movies had a lot to do with animals and nature!

So I begged Michael to leave my clothing fund intact because it was an easy mistake to make! And he being more generous than I would have been, mercifully forgave my debt.

Did you know it was Elton John and not Phil Collins?

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Agony

For the entire day today my throat felt like this.

There is nothing worse than having a sore throat. What can you do to dull the pain? That's not a rhetorical question. Really, someone please tell me what I can do!!! I'm dying here!

Thursday, February 23, 2006

The Power of O

Dear Oprah,

I've never told anyone my deepest darkest secret, not even my Savior and Lord. But I'm writing it to you because I think you are the only one who can save me.

By day I am a student at a prestigious college, but by night I have unprotected sex with strangers. I am a sex addict and I fear that my habit will kill me. In the past year I've had sex with over 25 different men, all strangers.
(Paraphrased from a real guest letter)


My observations:

1. Why would you choose to "out" yourself on national TV? And why do it on Oprah? Why not go to a trained medical professional? Or your priest? Or your best friend, sister, mother, etc (i.e. not a complete stranger)?

2. Oprah is scary powerful. She RULES American popular culture. She can make people voluntarily divulge their deepest darkest secrets...that they won't even tell God. Heck, she can make people voluntarily read Tolstoy!

3. I think I would be more excited about being on Oprah than about being named Time's person of the year.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Crap

After fiddling around with my blog template, I managed to delete a lot of stuff from my sidebar. Oops. I'll fix it later. I'm such an idiot.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Luck be a lady (with a capital "B")

No one has come forward to claim the $365 million dollar Lotto prize in Lincoln, Nebraska yet.

The winning ticket was sold at a local convenience store but the holder of the ticket has yet to step forward. He/she probably was murdered by a close family/friend who coveted the prize, the biggest in Lotto history.

My grandpa, a deeply "religious" man, used to buy Lotto tickets once a week and grew bitter at God for not ever letting him win big. Luck be damned, he knew that God was the one pulling all the strings.

I never bought Lotto tickets because I know that I would be an unproductive member of society if I did win. Instead of earning an honest living and trying to do something meaningful in the world, I would just live in a presidential suite and go to luxury spas everyday. What a waste of a life.

Most Lotto winners haven't fared much better than that. Here are some sad cases:


Evelyn Marie Adams

Evelyn Marie Adams hit the jackpot not once, but twice, buying both winning tickets at the 7-11 store her husband owned in New Jersey.

At the time Adams won, she was required to take winnings as an annuity paid out over 20 years. While the winnings were taxed at 50 percent, the government initially took only 20 percent, surprising her later with a tax bill for the remaining 30 percent. Like many lottery winners, Adams had to sell off her annuity to pay her taxes and her debts.

She spent some money on travel, visiting South America, Hawaii and Disney World, and ignored the seven marriage proposals she got. But she did follow some bad advice; she was told to become a professional gambler so she could use her gambling losses to offset her winnings at tax time. Adams says she spent so much money gambling that she actually lost more than she won.

Today, Adams lives in a trailer park and works in an upscale food services company. She does still play the lottery, but only in affordable amounts now and then.


William "Bud" Post

In 1988, William "Bud" Post, a traveling carnival worker who also did house painting and other odd jobs, won $16.2 million in the Super 7 Pennsylvania lottery. He was living on a government disability pension at the time.

Within months, he was successfully sued by a former girlfriend for a third of the prize, about $5.3 million, and his brother Jeffrey was imprisoned in Florida for trying to hire a hit man to kill Post for a share of the winnings.

Post says he bought Cadillacs, tractor-trailers, utility vehicles, Harley Davidsons and electronic gadgetry. He also gave relatives loans, set his family up in doomed businesses, and borrowed in advance of his lottery payout

Today, Post has come full circle. He now lives entirely on a government disability pension of $450 a month.


Curtis Sharpe

In 1982, Curtis Sharpe, a plant operator at Bell Labs in New Jersey, claimed his $5 million New York State lottery prize, with his wife on one side of him and his mistress on the other.

Sharpe stayed on for eight more years in his $20,000-a-year phone company job so he could earn a pension, but he lived the high life. His 1983 wedding set him back $100,000 and he even fed a number of gate crashers. He bought a beauty parlor for his fiancée, invested in Florida real estate and fell behind in payments to the IRS.
With fellow winner Lou Eisenberg, who became a lifelong friend, he promoted the lottery in TV, radio and billboard advertising.

Today, Sharpe, in his mid 60s and the father of eight, is a preacher in Tennessee. He sold off the remainder of his annuity, but he still drives a fancy car and lives in a comfortable home. He also sill is involved in several side businesses and entrepreneurial ventures.


Lou Eisenberg

On Friday the 13th in 1981, when Lou Eisenberg won $5 million in the New York State lottery, he was earning $225 changing light bulbs in midtown Manhattan. At the time, it was the biggest jackpot in the world.

Dubbed "Lightbulb Lou" by the press, the painfully shy Eisenberg quit his job and became a state lottery poster boy. With fellow winner Curtis Sharpe, who became a lifelong friend, he promoted the lottery in TV, radio and billboard advertising.

His 20-year annuity has come to an end but he says he enjoyed every cent, despite some bad investments and losses. He and his first wife, Bernice, bought a Brooklyn condo and did a lot of traveling in the early years. When they divorced in 1990, he assigned her half his winnings.

He met his next wife through the lottery; she was a lottery spokesman. They moved to Jupiter, Fla., and Eisenberg began betting on dogs at the Palm Beach Kennel Club. His second wife asked for no share of the prize when they divorced not long ago.

Today, Eisneberg, 73, is living in an apartment in West Palm Beach, is dating a woman he met at the dog tracks and survives on a $600 monthly Social Security payment plus a union pension of several hundred dollars a month.

What would you do with 365 million dollars?

Friday, February 17, 2006

You don't know me at all...

Your Hidden Talent

You have the natural talent of rocking the boat, thwarting the system.
And while this may not seem big, it can be.
It's people like you who serve as the catalysts to major cultural changes.
You're just a bit behind the scenes, so no one really notices.

If this were true, it would be pretty cool. But I highly doubt it. This test was no good because it failed to reveal my true hidden talent: Being able to eat more than any man alive, in one sitting.

You Are Lemon Meringue Pie

You're the perfect combo of sassy and sweet
Those who like you have well refined tastes

Eew... I don't care for lemon meringue. I was hoping I was more of a cheesecake or fruity kind of pie (apple, cherry, or blueberry). This test got it wrong again. I'm not "sassy and sweet." Yuck. I'm cynical and bitter.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Am I going to get cancer?

I chipped a tooth and now I'm worried about getting tongue cancer.

That sounds ridiculous, right?

Why would you get tongue cancer just because you chipped your tooth? Well, I never would have associated those two events until I visited this one particular dentist. He said that if the tongue chafes against an uneven edge, the skin of the tongue toughens, which may lead to tongue cancer.

Huh? Does cancer work like that? Wouldn't you just get a callous on your tongue?

So yesterday, after I absentmindedly chomped down on my spoon (thinking it was just soft food), and chipped my lower central incisor (on the right side), I scoured the internet for information about tongue cancer.

All I got were disgusting pictures of rotting gums and tongues.

Any sensible person would've just gone to their dentist and gotten reassurance from him/her. But noooo...not me...I'm cheap, lazy, and "too busy".

So I sit around and worry...and blog about it. Maybe someone who chances upon this entry might enlighten me on the risks of tongue cancer due to a chipped tooth.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Valentine Schmalentine

I love you.

Those are probably the three most welcome words in all the English language. Can't you just hear it now in the soundtrack of your mind, that song that goes "What the world, needs now, is love, sweet love. It's the only thing, that there's just, not enough of." Everyone, join in. You know the words...

But sometimes I'd rather hear another set of three-little-words, like:
Deep tissue massage, or
Month long vacation, or better yet,
Super-Lotto Winner!!!!

Monday, February 13, 2006

The Blizzard of '06

Yesterday was the biggest snow storm Boston has seen all season. I was hell bent on enjoying it too my fullest abilities.

Notice the cars covered in snow!

The snow was as high as my knees, and even higher in most in some parts. It was the softest, powderiest, substance you've ever seen. It makes you wanna just run out and make...
Snow angels!

And then I ran around like a mad woman...

And all the way back home I walked through as much snow as possible.

There's much in life I don't understand, but one thing I know. If God made everything for a purpose, I'm certain his purpose in making snow is to make us understand, however briefly, that most elusive of emotions...pure joy.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Consolation for the Poor

There are those in life who strut like peacocks.

They preen and priss and love showing off their brightly hued plumage -- Oh, yes, my ravishing form -- Oh, thank you, my shining intellect -- Indeed, my superior breeding.


They look down their noses at the hoi polloi and cluck their tongues in condescension, "Oh, thank God you didn't make me like them."

I don't know what it's like to be one of these "superior" beings, because really, pride is not about objective accoutrements, but more about subjective positioning. And I guess I'm just missing the "I'm #1" gene. If not by nature, then certainly by nurture it was beat out of me by the constant criticism and absent praise of exacting parents.

And though it is probably due more to sour grapes than sweet consolation, I say to those peacocks, real or imagined, "I wouldn't want to be you. Not for a million bucks. All you wealthy, and beautiful, and confidant, and strong -- you are to be most pitied. For you can't help but to take pride in what you are. That's your identity and that is the foundation of your esteem. It is the flaw in every man to idolize that which he thinks makes him superior."

"But we, wretched of the earth, we poor, we friendless, we beggers are free from the inimical bonds of an inevitable false master. We have a chance to find true consolation. But there is no consolation for the wicked."

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Happy Place #2

The perfect picnic...


With a fruity Reisling,
butter-rich quiche,
and cashmere throws...
C'est la vie!

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

NegHead Therapy

I'm generally a negative person with a lot of negative thoughts.

So what's a perpetual neg-head to do (to keep herself from going psycho)? Many times a day I have to "go to my happy place." A "happy place" is an imagery exercise to help cope with the downward spiral of negative thoughts and resulting release of feel-bad brain chemicals, which lead to more negative thoughts, which creates more feel-bad chemicals, etc.

This is one of my favorite happy places.

The more details one can imagine, the more effective the exercise. So here's some extra goodies on the side:

1. The smell of refreshing salty sprays.
2. Bright straw hats and crisp white linen.
3. Warm smooth sand squished between your toes.
4. Deep tissue massage!
5. Candlelight.
6. Warm breezes.
7. Mai-Tais and Pina Coladas.

Monday, February 06, 2006

The Well-Dressed Toddler

These are the cutest outfits ever (and all for only a song at Old Navy)! Would that I had a 18 month old doll to dress up.



Sunday, February 05, 2006

For your viewing pleasure

I've added two more blogs to my sidebar.

Emily Lee is a fellow first year law student and can probably give you a less jaded version of law school than I. She was convinced that God had called her to be a lawyer since age 9 and has aspirations to be the biggest, baddest, prosecutor there ever was. (She uses a different platform so you need to scroll all the way to the bottom of the screen to view her latest entries)

Post Secret is a blog that accepts anonymous postcards from all over the world that are sent by people who have a secret to share. They'll make you laugh, they'll make you cry...they'll make you want to send in your own.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

So they say

You Are a Glazed Donut

Okay, you know that you're plain - and you're cool with that.
You prefer not to let anything distract from your sweetness.
Your appeal is understated yet universal. Everyone digs you.
And in a pinch, you'll probably get eaten.

Mmmmm...I would like to eat myself.

Slow and Steady

Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy.

They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder.

It'd really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment.

They expect you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then usually decide against it.

Wow, I guess I am as boring as I feel...

Who Should Paint You: Gustav Klimt

Sensual and gorgeous, you would inspire an enchanting portrait..
With just enough classic appeal to be hung in any museum!

Yay! I luuuuuv Gustav Klimt!

Your Career Type: Artistic

You are expressive, original, and independent.
Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts, music, or art.

You would make an excellent:

Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor
Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer
Dancer - DJ - Graphic Designer
Illustrator - Musician - Sculptor

The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.


Oh crap, I have always and still continue to make the wrong career choices.

Gotham Night

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Another Unlove Story

When I was in college, there was total grease-ball of a guy who lived in my building.

I think he fancied himself an Asian pimp because he drove a rice rocket and dressed like he was going clubbing perpetually. What a delusional poser.

I passed by him once in the hallway, throwing out the trash, and he showed absolutely no discretion as he proceeded to stare at me like a cheap piece of meat, until I finally reached my apartment door and gladly slammed it shut as fast as I could.

"Can you believe that guy?!" I asked my roomate at the time. "Yeah, he used to harass me too," she replied, "He harasses every new girl."

The next day, the unwelcome Romeo rings my doorbell and when I opened the door, I could barely keep myself from busting out laughing. Unbelievable! There he was - with a grey silk shirt on, unbuttoned down to his waist! In one hand he held a bowl of fruit all cut up with little pastry forks stuck in them. And not to mention, he was wearing enough cologne to nuke Hiroshima twice! Pee-ew!

What was this?! The x-rated welcome wagon?

"I cut you some fruit," he said, holding the bowl out to me.
"Uh...what kind of fruit is that?" was all I could muster.
"It's a very rare fruit you can only get in tropical places," He replied. "I bet you've never tasted it before. Do you like trying new things?"

Are you kidding me? Is this guy for real?!

"It's called temptation fruit."

Ha! At this point I lost it and laughed my butt off and screamed for my roomate to come out of her room and say hi to the new neighbor. Anything, anything, to throw this psycho wannabe lothario off his game.

When my roomate, faithful friend that she was, came in, Mr. Temptation Fruit looked very disappointed and promptly left (thank God)...with his bowl of treats.

I'm a little disappointed that we never got to taste the fruit though.