Mary-Beth and Janice were normal people. They liked vanilla ice cream and watched The Regis and Kelly Show every morning before work. They were also Republicans. And as the pending presidential debate loomed ahead, they decided to show their campaign spirit by putting up a Bush/Cheney poster in their window to display their support for the GOP.
Days went by and the girls also got into the Halloween holiday spirit by putting up orange lights on their door and carving a jack-o-lantern and placing it on their front doorstep. They lit it up with candles and their holiday spirits were high and flying.
One weekend, they were having a nice brunch of french toast and fruits while reading the Sunday newspaper. Suddenly they heard a loud banging on their front door. They glanced at eachother and shrugged because neither were expecting any company. Mary-Beth got up and answered but was startled to see that no one was there. She glanced down and was shocked because their beloved jack-o-lantern had disappeared and was replaced with a white piece of paper. Mary-Beth picked up the paper and walked back in to show Janice.
"Janice, that was weird, no one was at the door, but the pumpkin is gone and there was this paper." They proceeded to read the note:
Your jack-o-lantern has been taken for ransom.
Don't be alarmed. If you follow our requests, he will not be harmed.
If you want your pumpkin back, take down that damn Bush/Cheney poster.
Regards,
Concerned Democrats
Mary Beth and Janice stared at eachother and started laughing. How childish. Had the elections really been reduced down to this. Has the American electoral system been replaced with constituents reduced to stealing pumpkins in order to supress individual policital views. They decided to ignore it, keep their poster up, and continue with their day.
5 hours later.....
KNOCK! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!!
Mary Beth and Janice had just sat down for coffee when they heard the familiar knock. Mary Beth rolled her eyes. "You get it, Jan." Jan chuckled and headed towards the door.
As expected, no one was there and there was another white note on their doorstep. This time there was a polaroid picture clipped to the note.
We see that you refuse to take down your Bush/Cheny poster.
Due to your apathetic actions, you left us no choice.
Regards,
Democrats Up to No Good
The picture attached was of their jack-o-lantern with three butter knives stuck in its orange flesh with ketchup blood oozing out of it.
The End.
*This is a semi-fictionalized account. No pumpkins were harmed in the making of this blog.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Death of my Marlboro Man
Waking up to a new day
And he wasn't there anymore
The craving waned, the novelty faded
A new day with an empty box
His company no longer needed
To walk beside me in these dark ages...
I quit smoking.
Now what do I do with all these lighters? -- love, annie
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Miscellaneous
Through a baby's eyes on the bus...
Why you lookin’ at me. Don’t look at me. Hi, you look like me. Wussup. Oh, her? She’s mother figure. She gives me milk and toys when I cry. Nice talking to you. *sigh* The pictures through this window are going by fast. We must be on a space ship. Hey, ma, when do we get to Mars? I’m more excited about Saturn though. Wake me up when we get there. What? We’re still here. Darn. Oh look . Ma gave me some Cheetos. Don’t you dare look at my Cheetos. These are my finger lickin’ good puffs of cheese. No dice. Keep on walking, partner. I hold on the bag, tight, ma. Don’t worry. I’ll protect them. This time when I eat them. I won’t get cheese on my face. Well, maybe just a little. Look at me, ma, cheese on my face! That lady smiled at me ma, look. Do you think she’s nice? Maybe. That man looks funny. His face has something on it. Did you call it a moose-stash? I want to sit in my own seat. Shall I cry? Shall I? No, ma, gets mad when I do and then she gives me a mean look. But I always get a kiss and something sweet to eat afterwards. Decisions. Decisions. Oh, is this it? Ma’s moving. Ma’s moving. Hey, what are you looking at? Don’t look at me.
Warning: Sushi May Seem Smaller Than They Appear
So we sat there completely engorged and the threat of rice and seaweed brimming over our eyelids was eminent. How did we find ourselves in this nightmare of wasabi and soy sauce......
Two hours earlier....
Nancy picks me up from campus and we decide to eat out because we were going to the songwriter's open mic at the Hideout (a local coffeehouse downtown) and it would be pointless to go home and eat and then come all the way back into town. I'm pretty hungry because I didnt eat anything all day other than a yogurt cup and granola (Mathias's eating habits have rubbed off on me ^_~ thanks babe) So anyways, we drive down Guadalupe and see this Japanese restaurant we've never been to, Zen, which always has alot of people covorting its booths. We go inside and are disappointed that its merely a fast food Japanese restaurant and doesn't tout a good selection of sushi. We haul ass outta there and contemplate our other choices. Ok, Vietnamese doesn't sound too bad. We drive back down Guadalupe and my taste for Japanese overcomes me and luckily there's Kyoto, a sushi place downtown which never disappoints so we opt to go there instead of Mekong River.
The tiny Japanese hostess lady with grey curly hair dressed in a kimono brings us over to a nice table for two by the window. She says some stuff about how its Happy Hour so all the sushi rolls are $2.00! How nice! She mentions something about "Be careful" and I assume she was talking about the Kenichi Ichiban Draft Beers that are also $2.00 and how we shouldn't drink too much.
We're both hungry and its a horrible thing when you are because then your eyes become hungrier than your stomach. We start off with a nice light seaweed salad and two Kenichi beers. Then comes the ridiculous part. We mark our sushi menus down for (1 of each mind you) ---
- Godzilla Roll
- Longhorn Roll
- Chicken Tempura Roll
- Shrimp Tempura Roll
- Spider Roll
- Unagi Roll
- Hamatchi Roll
I think about it and roll my eyes at what fools we were for thinking two mere mortals could finish this feast of sushi we had just ordered. But anyhow the hunger was overtaking us. We are given the Godzilla and Longhorn roll first and we finish that off and wait. The sushi bar is pretty busy so this is causing our order to be slowed down. Why not order another seaweed salad while we wait..What fools we were!!! So we got our second bowl of green gelatinous strands doused in sesame oil. Then the flood, THE FLOOD I REPEAT, of sushi we ordered comes and the plates can barely fit on the minature table we're at. Oh, how tiny the rolls looked in the pictures on the menu. How could this be?! They should put warnings on the menu about this understatement of visual proportions. So there we were with 5 plates of sushi and a half eaten bowl of seaweed. How embarrassing!
What were other people thinking when they saw this spectacle? "Those girls must be sushi nuts to order so much"... or "Goddamn! Those girls must be from Japan and miss their rice and seaweed..." But anyhow no need in speculation. We trudge on and our beer isn't helping either (which Nancy orders a second round of!!)
The Unagi roll hasn't been touched. Only half of each othe tempura rolls had been eaten and one slice of spider roll sat there in a pool of soy sauce. And to make things worse I still had a Hamatchi piece all to myself that sat there. The mere sight of the slab of raw yellowtail made me want to run to the vomitories of Roman times where people would have these magnificent feasts, reside to these vomitories to throw up only to make room for more food and eat more afterwards. I decide to just eat the peice of raw fish excluding the bed of rice it laid placidly on. Raw fish is mushy. Don't eat it by itself. Even soy sauce doesn't help...its still raw fish.
Nancy says we should just take the rest to go. Agreed. Good plan.
We ask the waiter for a take away box and are abhorred when he says that you cannot take away items that you order during Happy Hour. The Monsters!! How dare they impose this ridiculous rule! Don't they know that people in Africa and India are starving! Don't they know that the fishermen in Maryland worked their fingers to the greasy bone to catch the fish, shrimp, crab,etc. to make it hear on our table?! Do they expect us to just throw away this food as well as throwing money in the nearest garbage recepticle?! What a crock of shit.
So back to the intro of this dubious tale....we sat there completely engorged and the threat of rice and seaweed brimming over our eyelids was eminent. How did we find ourselves in this nightmare of wasabi......We contemplate whether we should just sit there diligently, let our stomach digest a bit, and try to finish off the rolls. That would take at least another hour if not more!
The tiny Japanese lady waddles over to us gracefully and sees how we are doing and replies, "So sorry we cannot give take away boxes. I told you to be careful...Arrigato..." That "arrigato" was like a slap in the face. And with that comment like a woman giving her teenager sheer motherly advice, trying to be supportive but all you can hear is "I told you so" and cant help but feel resentful for not listening. So that was the portentious warning given to us in the beginning, not about the Kenichi beer, but of the possibililty of ordering too much goddamn sushi...Well, how do you like them apples...
We decide theres no way to finish this and we pay for the check and walk out with full stomachs and empty hearts for the wasted sushi rolls that should have been enjoyed, eaten, and digested.
I never want to see a piece of unagi again.
So the moral of this story, boys and girls, is to be wary when you order at Japanese restaurants during Happy Hour. Don't let your hunger overcome you because more often than not, your eyes hunger will not match the capacity of your stomach.
Thanks for joining us this evening. Please keep all arms and legs inside the cart at all times....
I woke up today not wanting to really get up and unfold another page in my life but I didn't really have a choice. I had a class at 11 so that was that. Government. It's actually a pretty good class if you overlook that its a basic course so I'm surrounded by first years but the entertaining professor makes up for that. He looks like he'd be someone's geeky older brother with his helmet of bushy hair and goofy smile. But he makes me laugh and that's what every student yearns for, right--a professor who can make you laugh. I did the usual morning ritual and waited outside at the bus stop for the #325 where I'd transfer to the #1. Blah Blah Blah. I get to campus with fifteen minutes till lecture.
I decided that since I had that cushion of time I would buy a pack of cigarettes just because. I wish I had a better reason and I can't lie to you guys so there we are. I walked into the Eckerds and asked for a pack of marlboro lights. I should have known from the sparse shelves that this wasn't a good sign. The guy behind the counter told me that they were out and that they had ordered some and they were still waiting for the shipment. Hmm..interesting predicament. So I had already committed myself this far so I went for the Marlboro Medium 100's. What the hell are Medium 100's. How stupid, it sounds to me. But no more stupid than me buying a pack of them, I guess so shame on me. And of course they ran out of lighters and matches and I wasn't going to buy a $4.00 lighter with an eagle on it so I had to walk further down the street to buy a regular lighter.
I sat on the steps of the statue of one of the founders of my school. I don't even know his name. How sad. But anyhow, I sat there smoking on this silly little cigarette. Then I saw a guy that had ridden my same bus walk by me. He was a blind black guy who had a walking stick to guide his way. I liked his dreadlocks. He was smoking a cigarette too. I wondered if they were Marlboro medium 100's..probably not.
On the bus home, there was a blind man reading a huge voluminous braille book that filled his lap. It was a pretty cool sight to see.
There was also a woman with the tiniest legs I've ever seen. They weren't just short. They were thin. They were child legs. How could someone have such small legs to support their torso? Riddle me that.
When I got home I was so hungry I made some fried rice. Unfortunately I had been too impatient to wait for the fried rice to cook so I snacked on some guacamole and chips. That ruined my appetite for the rice. How sad. I think I've developed an addiction for avacadoes. Mmmm.... There's these billboards for avacadoes around here that say, "Trees give oxygen. Really good trees give oxygen and avacadoes." That's stellar advertising...
Sirens
The sound of fire truck sirens wails in the background and gets closer and closer, louder and louder. I am sitting at the café tables outside of our student union reading a screenplay of my friends and smoking a cigarette when I hear this commotion. I expect the sirens to pass by me as it sails down Guadalupe Street which is the thoroughfare I am sitting off of but I realize that the sirens stop and park in front of the Barnes and Noble across from where I can see. My apathy plays a tug of war with my curiosity as I wonder what’s going on yet don’t want to move from my comfortable spot in the shade where a cool breeze floats by me. I can see the fire truck and the lights blinking but they are covering where the action is taking place. The sirens have stopped and the firefighters hop off their mighty steed and begin to shower the sidewalk with gushing water. A billow of steamy mist floats into the air and the scent of washed out flames envelopes the area. It’s as if someone has just blown out the candles to their birthday cake yet there’s no wish at the end of the extinguishment. The people around me look in awe and natural curiosity and I sit there still and unphased. The engine pulls away and life resumes once again.
SHE
SHE is my sister who knows even though I smile on the outside, I am dying on the inside.
HE is my best friend who walks side by side with me and slows down when I fall.
SHE is the friend from Singapore whose eyes tell you secrets you thought you already knew.
HE is the Italian who grew up in Germany who waits for the love of his life to consume him.
SHE is the free spirited butterfly who smiles so big it envelopes you in warmth.
HE is the bastard who you slept with last night and tells me the next morning how much he regrets not holding you longer.
SHE is the artist who is struggling to come to terms with emotional love and human contact.
HE is the brother who waits for me in his room to play tennis at least once a month.
SHE is the mother who works so hard night and day and says she’s so happy to see you.
HE is the father who used to live by the ocean and wake up to catch fish with the heavy, smelly nets...
SHE is the little sister who is growing up so fast you’re petrified she’ll grow up to be too much like you.
HE is the tall prince with crystal blue eyes who gave you more love than you thought you ever deserved.
SHE is me.
A girl struggling to identify the me in her. Struggling to identify these relationships that mean so much and hurt so bad because mere words, definitions cannot encapsulate the bubbles of feelings each one represents.
Feeling that each friendship she embarks upon leaves an impression on her but wonders does she leave an impression on them as well.
A brand on your bosom. A notch in your heart. A scratch on your soul.
SHE wants you to know that you mean the world to her and that means you are her world.
SHE is me.
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