tell me something I don't know

Your Personality is Very Rare (INTP)

Your personality type is goofy, imaginative, relaxed, and brilliant. Only about 4% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 6% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceiving.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

my goodness

i have fallen into the realm of the unblogged. i am not immortalizing my every twitch and fart these days. the blogosphere weeps...

I know I know. I majorly did NOT rise to the challenge of posting every day. I mean, it's really all I can do to keep up with my life. So, let's all move on shall we?

On the job front, I am DETERMINED to catch up, because I am tired of sneaking in (late) taking and hour and a half in the middle of each day to go to the gym, and leaving (earlyish) and feeling guilty about it. I mean I won't stop doing those things of course, but i do not wish to feel guilty any more. Ergo, I guess I'll just catch up. Appropos of that, I have designated this week "Type A" week, in which I impersonate someone effective who gives a shit about her job. To that end, I worked on Sunday, stayed late last night, stayed late-ish tonight, and only checked my email 85 times today. I did still go to the gym of course. As I've said before, I'm addicted. I love my gym. until i get my bike, the gym it is. I project that i will catch up in the next couple weeks and then I can go back to slack.

On the physical front (what front? I have no more real front), I feel pretty good. In 2 weeks I get my expanders out and the implants (saline) in. that will be a welcome change, as I've had these damned hockey pucks sitting on my chest way too long. And it's not like, because they are hockey pucks, they are impervious to pain. OH no. I am reminded every time I bathe that i am still made of flesh and blood, sadly enough. I also try not to look at myself naked more than once per week, which is easily enough accomplished, I just make sure to fog up the mirror inthe bathroom when I shower, and that's the only mirror in the house. No wonder I sometimes show up to work wearing two different socks and with my fly undone.


Cancer has definitely killed one of the seven deadlies... that one being vanity. But i make up for it in gluttony and sloth...I won't talk about lust, lest i get another joyous comment from my evangelical constituents....

cuppycake

the Ex tortures me today with the cuppycake video and song, which, if I had swallowed poison, and needed a good emetic, I would certainly appreciate, but, since I would like to keep my dinner flowing in the proper direction (that is, from top to bottom so to speak), I do not appreciate in the least.

People should have to sign a contract when they purchase video equipment, or even cellphones with any digital recording capability that they will not, EVER, videotape their child singing ANY song for the camera, even if that song is the overture from carmina burana, or one of the more decadent stylings from the weimar cabarets. Get it through your head, people, your idea of "cute" or "talented" is my idea of vomit inducing. so don't do it. I don't care if it made cuppycake a star.

not my fault

tried to post and blogger ate it...
hahahahahah not my fault...

o bother

Yes I know, I know, i already blew it (forgot to post last night). Well, really, lest ye wish to cast the first stone, how long did your new years resolution last?

At any rate, we saw Borat last night. It was pretty damned funny, but, i have to say, I laughed harder at Jackass 2, which made me almost wet my pants. In fact I want to BE johnny knoxville.

Guess my movie choices show what kind of brow I am/have (low, lower, lowest?). My brow ridges must be threatening my nostrils by now. I don't really know what high brow humor would be, or if we have it any more. I mean, Oscar Wilde? Isn't that more gay than high brow? Maybe gay humor is the only highbrow humor there is? Except that I am about 98% sure that the jackass guys swing each and every way there is to swing...

Actually, all this testosterone based humor (I also watched Richard Pryor, live on sunset strip last week, which remains one of my faves. the cheetah bit alone is worth the stained bedsheets), has raised a question in that foggy area north of my overactive mandibles. Women can be funny, we know this. But, the serious low brow, wet your pants, stain your drawers, effluvia inducing humor of jackass remains out of our reach. Why? I think it's because females aren't generic enough. Jackass is funny because of what they do to their bodies, and, thus, the body that is done to, has to be generic enough to evoke humor rather than horror or vulnerability or lust. Really. if you think of women doing what johnny knoxville does, it just isn't funny. Because if she's pretty, you get distracted by that, and if she's not, you don't give a fuck. It's the way the world is. And, women probably wouldn't do it anyway, because the returns for us are not what they are for men, i.e., we can't make you laugh and make each other laugh and make millions of bucks doing it.

there are women who will mutter something essentialist about biology and women's superior intelligence, etc. very well. But, I for one think there is something completely euphoria-inducing about what the jackass guys do, and I'm not kidding either. If you take all your demons and make them physical, and then survive them, it must make you high as a kite. Keep in mind where I'm coming from with this. I am someone who has fallen down mountains, been shot, jumped hurdles while drinking tequila (with disastrous effect), been beaten up, and, more damaging than all of the above, had a semi-successful dance career. Thus, I must have some need to put myself through hell in pursuit of something (or in avoiding something) In my old age my body has become a source of fear for me, rather than a source of mastery. Is it any wonder I'm attracted to the bold and audacious misuse of said body by the jackasses? While women can DO wild stuff, we can't make you laugh doing it, we can only terrify, horrify or disgust you (not in a funny way, either). And THAT is kinda sucky. Because you need the whole thing. if it's just about doing it, that's not enough. The laughter has to be there too.

This is not making sense, because it's a blog, and therefore is a place for me to put half-baked ideas out there for all 4.5 of you to read. So i'm not fully fleshing this out, pun indeed intended.

At any rate, no, you won't be seeing me blindfolded in a bull ring anytime soon. at least i don't think so...

time

I have nothing to say, and usually, I manage to stretch saying nothing out for at least several paragraphs, but today i really do not feel like blogging nothing. Nor do i feel like blogging anything. My job is really stressing me out, and, unfortunately, stress is not what I need right now. I just need time. TIME.

tempus, stop fugging.

fried

Great sweet mother of bugger mad, slime-infested crapulent sons of beehives I cannot believe i made this god-forsaken resolution. I do not have anything to tell you and I am far too busy to give wilingly of my precious "down" time, all 29 minutes 33 seconds of it. Sigh. Ok Ok. I have no one to blame but everyone. I mean, peer pressure made me make this resolution. I should not be bound by it. I was not responsible at the time. I was coerced, I was intoxicated, I was fraudulently induced, and futhermore I lack capacity....(except i seem to have an endless capacity for greasy vending machine snacks and anxiety, see below...)

Well, today I had one of my "hours of spaz". Sometimes my mind literally short circuits and I cannot make sense of anything I see. Usually this happens when I'm stressed or nervous and I have to admit I woke up even more anxious than I usually am, and believe me my general capacity for anxiety is even larger than my above legendary capacity for fried, bagged snack foods, preferably with some form of red flavoring on them. Thus, I spent the morning fruitlessly reading the same paragraph of a case over and over and thinking "what does this mean?" "what does this have to do with anything?" and even "what language is this?" and even "byaoenorid;fa;iupr /s///*U()_)???

Then, i got it together and managed to get some work done. I gotta get another job.

resolute-shun

I resolve not to make any resolutions this year. As a general rule, my resolutions are pretty good, I mean I never resolve the usual things involving health, altruism, or self-improvement, so I'm never caught up in the usual, "quit smoking" "lose 10 pounds" boring crap. My resolutions, like most, however, sometimes seem to reflect some fantasy about what either I or my life should be...like "go to mongolia this year" or "have plastic surgery done in order to look like cate blanchet." My best resolutions were those I wrote in (sorta) jest, which consisted of resolutions to "harrass, irritate and otherwise make life miserable for those I love and cherish each and every day of the year" and "point out to well meaning strangers how dismal and hellish their lives really are". I managed to keep those....bwhahahahahah.

At any rate, in complete bipolar reversal of the first statement on this post, here's one for this year that I think I'll really try to keep. the beauty of it is, it's short term enough so that Ms. ADD may be able to do it, and fast enough (now) so that ms. alzheimers won't forget about it.

I resolve to write in one or the other of my blogs EVERY DAY FOR ONE (1) MONTH, that month being the month of January, 2007, i.e. starting today.

So there u have it, my very first step towards keeping my resolution. 30 more days to go. If I fail, feel free to dis the hell out of me. I love it. (See recent comment on "the year in fears" over at cancer-grrl...)

great caesar's ghost

It has really been over a month since I posted on poor ole bloggrilla! That's cause all the action is happening over at cancer grrl, at least in terms of posting.

Actually, my life is pretty boring, and pretty much devoted to going to work, trying to run as much as I can, and trying to ignore chemotherapy as much as i can. Outside of the stigmata of perennially perforated veins in my arm, I am pretty good at putting this whole thing out of my mind.

I did manage to see Snakes on a Plane last week, with the Ex. Since I lack the required snake phobia, roughly 85% of the chills were wasted on me. However, I have a slight airplane phobia, so I was able to reap some fear gratification from the whole endeavor. NOT, mind you that I need any more fear in my life, but, we all like a little gratuitous fear from someone else's pain.

The movie had a lot of the requisite junior high school gross out moments: snakes bit a nipple, a penis, an eye, and a tongue. People's faces turned black from venom. Good, solid lunch hour discussion fodder for cafeteria.

And, muthafuckin Sam Jackson did not swear as much as this muthafucka would have wanted. goddamn it.

All in all, it was kinda fun. Not scary, and not real funny either, but, i think worth seeing. I mean, these days I will take my entertainment as low brow as I can get it, thank you very much.

I also watched The Spy Who Shagged Me, last week at chemo with Gar. I thoroughly enjoyed all the anal jokes, in fact I nearly wet myself. Since I was in the chemo drip place, I'm sure that would not have caused the nurses to blink an eye...

Today's aspergian exercise, or: the hairy ocean heresy

My recent head depilation, and subsequent medieval monastic look, led me naturally to try to create a pun filled blog for the cancer grrl site, using two words that have frequently vexed me because despite the fact that they are similarly spelled and sounded, they completely lack any relationship one to the other. NOW I realize that there are three of these perilous P-words. Without further adieu (heh..sorry, I KNOW it's ado), I bring you the three perilous Ps.


1. Pelage: fur, hairy covering of a mammal. As in: "Maria possessed a diminutive pollard, whose pelage was lactescent as crystallized precipitation. (thas mary hadda little lamb, yall) OR, if you moderns prefer, Maria possessed a diminutive clone



2. Pelagian: The theological doctrine propounded by Pelagius, a British monk, and condemned as heresy by the Roman Catholic Church in A.D. 416. It denied original sin and affirmed the ability of humans to be righteous by the exercise of free will.
Of course, If I were witty and british and medieval and all that, I could make a good pun out of fur and monks and heresies...ah...but I ain't even gonna go there... Of course, it's also funny that "hairy" sounds a lot like "heresy"...
*By the way that's not Pelagius above. That is St. Augustine, one of his opponents. Couldn't find a pic of Pelagius. I would think he'd look a lot happier than St. Augustine.



3. Pelagic: Of, relating to, or living in open oceans or seas rather than waters adjacent to land or inland waters.
This is my favorite of the 3Ps.







So pelage is from the Old French word for hair, and pelagic is from the Greek word for ocean. Pelagian is obviously from the man's name (Pelagius). Maybe Pelagius was hairy. He was an old Brit, so he did live near the ocean, although that ain't enough to be pelagic of course. He was also supposed to have been influenced by Greek thought.

At any rate, I just think these three words are interesting. I remember getting confused when someone was talking about "pelagic" meaning near the ocean, and I thought they were talking about "pelagian" as in the heresy.

So I can't really make anything cute up about this, because my head's just not there right now, having lost my pelage. I leave it up to those of you pelagian enough to exercise your free will. for me, I would rather go to pelagic regions for some R&R.

Monster Name

Your Monster Profile

Merciless Beheader You Feast On: Starbucks You Lurk Around In: Roller Rinks You Especially Like to Torment: Your Evil Twin

What's Your Monster Name?

And here I thought it was bloggrrilla....

There's a face off in the corner

I have proclaimed this week the "International Week of Denial" partially in honor of the edmonton oilers winning the third game in the Stanley Cup playoffs on Saturday night (DENIED the hurricanes), and partially because i am damned tired of thinking how my breasts betrayed me.

What cracks me up is that the announcers keep saying "the oilers play PHYSICAL hockey". Ok. um, yeah? I mean, is there metaphysical hockey? Astral hockey? ectoplasmic hockey? If so does anyone watch it? Or do you need a medium?

So I am in a good mood. I have been watching hockey and blasting the Ramones and the Pogues. These are things that make me feel good. Am I secretly a teen boy stuck in 1977? Hmmm. I don't have a shag or a mullet, or a mohawk (any more). I don't have acne. And I don't lust after teen girls (as a matter of fact, I avoid them like the plague). Ok, guess not. But I do wish that, vampire like, I could suck up some of their energy. Hockey, Ramones, and the Pogues seem to give me that kind of energy...

Well, I must leave you with my favorite hockey leper joke. You probably remember it from third grade, but, here goes.

How can you tell a leper hockey game?
There's a face off in the corner...

Now, WHO SAID cancer lowers IQs? And i haven't even STARTED chemo yet...

Philematology

The science of kissing. Because really, who'd have thought?


I mean, where does one study this science? And from whom? And...does it cause cancer? heh. The wiki article is full of splendid phrases, such as: kissing is "the touching of the lips to some other thing"..."In order to avoid clashing noses"...and "Kissing is a complex behaviour that requires significant coordination," and information. for example did you know that "the Romans distinguished three types of kiss: osculum, a friendship kiss on the cheek; basium, a kiss of affection on the lips; and suavium, a lovers' deep kiss?"

at any rate, this was brought to you by the fact that I went to the dentist today for the first time in TWENTY-FIVE years or so (ok ok don't get all grossed out on me, I assure you no one noticed my lapses). My teeth are FINE! Good even. No Problemas! Good news is rare these days, and most welcome.

Moveez

I just ordered Throne of Blood from Amazon. I'd been vacillating about ordering it, because it is pricey, but it is one of my favorite movies. It's Akira Kurosawa's version of Macbeth. It has a great creepy witch scene, and the lady mac character is even worse than the hand washing shakespearean character.



I don't have a big DVD library or anything, really the only other one I've ordered is the Ruling Class, which is like Monty Python meets Edgar Allen Poe, via the Producers. Oh hell I don't know what it's like but it's good. Peter O'Toole plays an aristocrat who thinks he's god. At first, he's the god of love, full of love (and lust) for all his creatures. This pisses off his aristocratic relatives royally (or nobly?), so they enlist all kinds of shrinks to cure him of his delusions.

He gets cured...not of the delusion that he is god, but of the delusion that god has anything to do with love. He becomes the destroyer, a god of death, a/k/a Jack the Ripper and starts killing people. But, his manners and sartorial sense are impeccable, so he is totally acceptable to the aristocratic relatives and neighbors. He runs for parliament and of course wins big. At anyrate you should see it, it's quite strange. And peter o'toole is a madman.