Friday, February 24th, 2012
I saw this over on Sizzle’s and it’s been a while since I told you pointless stuff about me, so here we go!
A. Age: 38 — I’m not really sure when that happened. When I think “ten years ago”, I still picture the 90’s…
B. Bed size: A king. From Bed in a Box. I cannot say enough good things about them. SO MUCH AWESOME. (No, they’re not paying me, but I’ll happily take their money.)
C. Chore that you hate: Dishes. Yet, I’m the one who does them. mikey gets things like trash, vacuuming and spiders.
D. Dogs: Love dogs. I’m totally for dogs. Especially dachshunds, labs and pit bulls. Currently, Lulu is the head of the household, diva rabbit that she is.
E. Essential start to your day: Coffee, followed by extensive bunny love. And then after that some more coffee. And whatever I recorded last night on the DVR.
F. Favorite color: It changes all the time. I’m a big fan of pink, but it’s not practical always. I love oranges and aquas, rich reds, happy grass green… and I like to mix it up.
G. Gold or Silver: Silver. Or white gold. Anything not yellow, basically. I have gold undertones in my skin and it makes me look jaundiced.
H. Height: 5’10” So, taller than you, probably. I don’t wear heels.
I. Instruments you play: I play the larynx. I’ve also dabbled in guitar and recorder (remember those?) My mom was a concert-level pianist,so I also took piano lessons from 3 to 18 and taught them from 18-22. I haven’t played in ages and it makes me sad. Let’s talk about something else.
J. Job title: This is the part where I am supposed to put like “web design ninja/rock star/goddess/diva/bad ass”, right? I honestly have no idea what my job title is. Web designer. Business owner. Creative director? Principle? Lead? Whatever. I make pretty websites that go.
K. Kids: The forecast is 99% no kids with a 1% chance of holy shit.
L. Live: I currently live in our nation’s tramp stamp, Las Vegas. North Las Vegas, to be specific, for all you creepers out there. I’m from San Diego, of which I’m proud and for which I’m spoiled absolutely rotten and have been ruined for every other city. Thank god we’re going back in the Fall.
M. Mother’s name: Jamia Jewel. We have the same first name.
N. Nicknames: Dude. Babe. Whore. Jo. (Only a few get to call me Jo and only one gets to call me Whore.)
O. Overnight hospital stays: One. I assume you mean one instance and not one night. I spent 3 nights, I think, back in the early 00’s for an acute asthma attack. It was totally not awesome. The pudding wasn’t bad.
P. Pet peeves: Lack of a courtesy wave. Not acknowledging when someone’s held a door for you. Amazeballs. Obvious poor grammar, like “supposably” and “fustrated”. When you’re signaling to get around the guy in front of you and just when you get a window, the asshole behind you dashes out and takes it. Eff that guy.
Q. Quote from a movie: “Was it a dream where you see yourself standing in sort of sun-god robes on a pyramid with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?”
R. Right- or left-handed: Lefty
S. Siblings: It’s complicated. The short answer is: 1 half sister, 2 half brothers and 2 stepsisters.
T. Tattoos & Piercings: I have a nickel-sized butterfly on the back of my neck near my hairline I got in Dallas in the early 00’s after 2 bottles of sake. It’s my favorite one. I also have Kanji on my left ankle I got with Allison in ’98. I’ve been thinking about covering it up because in hindsight, it doesn’t make sense and they’re bigger than I wanted and the guy put this magenta fade around it that causes people to ask if it’s new fairly often, but most of the time I forget that it’s there.
Piercings: my ears, only once. I had my tongue pierced in the early 00’s, twice (once with Sarah). Like y’do. And I had my nose pierced in the mid 90’s — just a tiny tiny little one that I took out a few weeks later when it was allergy season.
U. Underwear: I used to not wear any in my 20’s, like girls do for some reason. Then I went on a “let’s wear sexy underwear all the time to make ourselves feel sexier” kick, but that just left me with expensive underpants and a lace chafe, so I’m a fan of cotton boyshorts in black, white, or nude. Wank accordingly.
V. Vegetable(s) you hate: I have to agree with Sizzle, mealy tomatoes are abominable. But I generally like most veggies. I’m not the biggest fan of fresh green beans, for some reason. The crappy canned kind I love, but fresh ones just feel hairy and tough to me.
W. What makes you run late: Very little. I tend to be one of those annoying early people and spend a lot of time in my car on my iphone waiting.
X. X-Rays you’ve had: Oh, lots. Mostly my ankle, which I’ve twisted and sprained several times falling down stairs. (It’s a gift of mine.) I also have had my back x-rayed when I slipped and fell in a grocery store meat department and my lungs x-rayed to make sure I didn’t have TUMAH.
Y. Yummy food that you make: I make pretty good chili, I think. And tacos. I make good spaghetti sauce — I got Kathy to eat mushrooms, so that’s saying something. I also bake these cookies that are affectionately called Orgasm Cookies due to the sounds people make when they eat them.
Z. Zoo animal: Pandas, pandas, pandas. I also love to see the flamingos, even though they reek. And the polar bears.
Tuesday, June 28th, 2011
I really, really, really hate it when I get Asian take-out and I forget (or they forget) to include chopsticks. In fact, I hate that you have to specify that you want chopsticks. I’m eating sushi or Thai or chowmein or whatever and I want to eat it with chopsticks. I appreciate that there are people in this world that aren’t skilled with them — hell, I drop half my rice in my lap, but I still prefer to eat Asian food with chopsticks.
While popping into a Japanese market (Mitsuwa for SoCal, Jersey and Chicago people) to satisfy Mike’s craving for Pocky (I like Men’s and Coconut the best), I impulse-bought this huge bag of chopsticks by the checkout so I’d never have to be chopstick-less again.
Cut to 6 months later when I still have 300 sets of wooden chopsticks taking up space in my kitchen drawer. So, I started thinking of different thing I could do with my surplus chopsticks. These are just some of the things I’ve come up with:
- Coffee Stirs
I don’t know about you, but I go through spoons like crazy. It was worse before I started using chopsticks to stir my coffee. One set can last you for a while — you can use them stuck together, like one big stir or you can break them apart and use them individually. If you set the stick out on a spoon rest or something to dry in between stirrings, you can get away with using the same chopsticks for a couple days — or more if you’re in a dry climate like me.
- Toast Retrieval
My toaster is a beast. I gobbles up everything I put in there — such as the case with many wide-slot toasters when you don’t intend to toast anything wide. My little sandwich thins get lost down there and over the years, the spring-load on the pop-up part of the toaster has gotten a bit tired. Sometimes, I have to fish my toast out, but hate sticking utensils down there, even when the toaster is unplugged. Since my “coffee stirs” are near my toaster, I once grabbed a chopstick, dug out my toast and never looked back.
- Aquarium Habitat Adjustment
I have fish — several, actually, all with unique bowls. More than once I’ve positioned the plants and marbles, but after adding the water and moving the bowl, things shift and start to float up or just otherwise need adjusting. You don’t want to dump out the water or shove your hand in there — you might disrupt the pH or stress out your fish. A stuck-together set of chopsticks makes a nice tool to insert rather unobtrusively and tuck those plants back where you’d like them.
- Plant Aeration
I also have several, several plants — about 15 or so, mostly hibiscus, a tropical plant native to Southern California, Hawaii, Asia and other places with pleasant climates. Though they are fairly hearty plants, they do require attention (though not as much as orchids) and since moving to the desert have had to make most of them houseplants. I don’t like using gardening tools indoors or slopping soil all over, so we started using chopsticks to move the soil around, aerating and allowing the water more access to the roots. It works great, doesn’t make a big mess and we can just stick the chopsticks in the soil for the next time.
- Scraping Non-Stick Coating
Sometimes, non-stick surfaces aren’t so non-stick — especially baking sheets. I’ve used the slanty backend of a stuck-together set of chopsticks to scrape baked-on stuff from baking sheets and frying pants. Works great, doesn’t scratch the surface or make that hideous metal-on-metal sound.
- Drain Unclogging
I have long hair. In fact, I not only have long hair, I have long wavy/curly hair, which is notorious for breakage and shedding. If you have ever met me, you likely found a long, serpentine, dark brown hair on you after we parted — to remember me by. It’s my gift to you. It’s not a gift to my shower, which constantly needs to be unclogged. I’m usually butch enough to put on a pair of latex gloves, reach in and just grab the offending clog out, but sometimes there are clumps that go beyond the grabby area or are wound so tightly, you need to wedge something in there are drag the clog up. (Isn’t this delicious?) Chopsticks, my people.
- Stirring Bath Salts
As a rule, I’m not a big fan of the super oily scrubs that require you to stir them up to use them. That’s so inconvenient. I’m not sure who thought trying to manhandle a slippery, oily jar in the shower, open it, stir it up, find a place to set it down out of the water stream, find a place for the lid, apply it to your person and then, with oily hands, put it all back together again was a reasonable solution, but shower beauty engineering is not their strong suit. Anyway, I always hated that little plastic scoop they make you dig out from the bottom of the jar, all the while sloshing the oil down your feet. So I’ve just started stirring the scrub up before I get in the shower with a chopstick or I just don’t buy that kind of scrub. But sometimes you get it as a gift or don’t realize it’s one of those until you get it home, so chopsticks help a lot.
So you’re making kabobs for dinner and you forgot to buy skewers. Chopsticks will work, though they do displace a bit more food than a thinner skewer would. Just remember to soak them first!
I do still use chopsticks to eat. Sometimes I eat my salads with chopsticks. It makes it a bit more of an adventure and I take more time with my food than I might otherwise. I’m kind of a fast eater. I know it’s not like, super hot for a girl to admit that and it’s not like I’m hunkered over my food like I’m a prisoner trying not to get shanked, but I do tend to hurry through my meals and don’t always appreciate them. Chopsticks requires you to slow down if you ever want the food to actually make it to your face.
So there you go: alternate uses for that metric ton of chopsticks you may or may not have in your drawer. Mine are almost gone, but I’ll definitely be getting more. If you have alternate uses that I haven’t mentioned (and that don’t involve lubricant or adult entertainment), I’m always looking for something new to do with them!
Sunday, September 27th, 2009
It’s about that time again — the time of year where bloggers far and wide bare their bazooms for breast cancer. Kathy and I have participated, donated and supported Boobiethon since 2003 and we’re proud to do it again this year.
I can’t remember if I submitted a photo last year or not… but I will this year, though I don’t know what the motif will be. I tend to go with the sort of arty boudoir kind of thing. You don’t need to see every freckle, do you?
It’s funny how after all these years of looking at headless blogger boobies, I do recognize some. I’ve never seen 99% of these women topless with their heads on, but I can still pick out certain bloggers like I’m choosing chocolates from the See’s box.
But, let me be clear, that’s only because I’ve participated every year and actually know those bloggers’ boobs, either in real life or because they told me it was them in the photo. And sometimes I don’t recognize the blogger, but do recognize the boobs from years past.
Otherwise, the Boobiethon is totally anonymous and very tasteful. Photo submissions are usually covered, either by some sort of prop, hands or a bra or, for the more adventurous, there’s a bare gallery that requires a $50 minimum donation by viewers in order to gain access. Men edit men’s photos, women edit women’s and for the love of all that is holy, if you don’t want people to know who you are, do not include photos with your face in it. It will be edited out before it goes online, but remember that someone will need to do that and that someone will see your face. So, no faces. NO FACES. And men? No junk. Seriously.
The lovely and talented Mel is in charge now and has been for the last couple years. She’s totally kicking ass at it and has put forth a lot of effort and time to this cause, so your participation is encouraged and welcomed. Right now, she’s accepting pre-launch submissions of photos, so get your racks ready and snap a few!
The 8th Annual Blogger Boobiethon starts on October 1st and runs through October 7th. Submissions are accepted now and monetary donations will be accepted starting October 1st. Both men and women are encouraged so submit their headless, faceless and junkless photos of their breasts. Themed shots, prop shots and bra shots are welcomed — use your creativity! — and survivor submissions are greatly encouraged for the Survivor Gallery, which is the reason for this whole thing.
All proceeds, except a portion set aside for the Bloggers Helping Bloggers, goes to the Susan G. Komen Foundation. Last year $9300 was raised — let’s make it at least $10k in 2009. In the last seven years, bloggers have raised over $50,000 for breast cancer research and awareness, so take off your bras, get out your cameras and show us your boobs!
Sunday, August 31st, 2008
Yesterday the Wiener Nationals Wiener Dog Races were being held at Qualcomm Stadium and of course, I had to go. Last year, I had the Nikon D80 that was on loan to me, so I spent a lot of time taking photos and not actually petting dogs. Since this year I no longer had a fancy camera, I vowed, “I intend to focus more of an effort on touching wieners this year.” Strangely enough, I had to same goal at the start of my Senior year.
And touch wieners I did! There were so many this time, big, small, wee, long, dappled, chubby, crooked, one-eyed… and I loved them all (dogs, people… I’m talking about dogs). But what really caught my eye was the Chihuahua Rescue booth. I’ve never been a huge chihuahua fan, but I’ve realized that it’s the owners that make them so yippy and annoying, not necessarily the dog itself. There were some of the sweetest little dogs in there and one, a pale blonde and white male currently named Bixby totally melted my heart.
He was leaping in the air in his little playpen really high, like “Look at me! Look at me!”. When I approached, he stopped and sat calmly, sticking his wee nose through the gate to sniff me. When a little girl picked him up (one of the foster family members), he squirmed and carried on, but as soon as she handed him to me, he nestled against my chest and closed his eyes — except for the moment he looked up at me and licked my nose. *swoon*
The foster mom was into me; she said we seemed to mesh and I’d have to agree. Though, he could be a big pee-factory that never shuts up and she’s trying to unload him on me, so I’m wary. But, she seemed very genuine and I was happy she got a chance to see me with the dog to know I’m not some psychopath running an illegal chihuahua fighting ring in my parking space.
I never thought I’d want a male dog, first off… and secondly, I never thought I’d want a chihuahua. I’ve had my heart set on a doxie, or maybe a corgi, for a while now. But he just melted me, that dog, and now I’m seriously considering adopting him if he’s not gone. mikey says I should stop torturing myself and wait for the dog I *really* want, but now I don’t know what I really want.
*sigh* Damn that cuteness!
Monday, July 7th, 2008
I’ve been a big blogging slacker, but I swear I have a good excuse. Like work and sunshine. I went to the Del Mar Fair on the 4th of July. I know it’s supposed to be called the San Diego County Fair now, but to hell with them. It will always be the Del Mar Fair to me.
mikey, GFI and I got there before it opened and spent the majority of the time sifting through the assorted crap vendors in Bing Crosby Hall and the like. We stopped for cupcakes at a super cute booth that was decorated in pink and black and white with lime green accents and curly font. It looked like a website I did for a client once… only life-size. A little surreal, but the cupcakes were good! Three mini cupcakes in red velvet with cream cheese icing, chocolate on chocolate and vanilla cake with chocolate icing for $5. It worked out perfectly; we each got a bite of every flavor.
We got our handwriting analyzed because we had a sudden urge to piss away $3. The Fair does that. It’s like a state of fugue or something. One minute, you’re perfectly rational, bypassing the loud guy selling chamois, the mood-lipstick mistress, the uber-butch hocking cheese graters and then, without warning, “Let’s get our handwriting analyzed! It’s only $3!” And the next thing you know, you’ve corrupted your whole party.
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