e2theLos

carrie bradshaw i am not...

2006-11-30T14:21:00.000-05:00

but i will be spending christmas in new york city and i can't wait!!!! skating at rockefeller center, the radio city music hall christmas spectacular, chinese food for christmas dinner - i doubt you can do any better.

does anyone have any good restaurant or shopping recommendations?

From Sunday's Washington Post

2006-11-20T10:39:00.000-05:00

SORRY, YOU'RE NOT ON THE LIST

One in an occasional series of parties you should have crashed.

Event: Capital Food Fight 2006, a battle-of-the-celebrity-chefs fundraiser for D.C. Central Kitchen, with "tastings" from more than 40 top local restaurants

Site: Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center

Big regret: Missed the cotton-candy foie gras.

Big revelation: Marvelous sushi . . . from Wegman's?

Big horror: Lobster popcorn. "Almost impossible to eat," murmured one guest.

Big surprise:$1 million gift from kitchen volunteers Bob and Nancy Torray (the event otherwise raised $285,000).

Main event: Galileo's Roberto Donna (teamed with Anthony Chittum of Notti Bianche) overcame his "Iron Chef" humiliations to trounce two-time Food Fight champ Ris Lacoste in the finals by pairing romanescu with escargot.

Post-game: Was it a fair fight? Hardly, said celeb judge Anthony Bourdain, the tough-guy food writer and chef, holding court over Negronis and cigarettes at the Les Halles after-party. "I have history with everyone. But the end, the best dish won. . . . Ris lost by a little too much curry. I'm not convinced she didn't take a dive. I'd like to see the betting spread on this one."

i'm just a girl

2006-09-05T15:51:00.000-05:00

...on a date. a fabulous date. a date i've been anticipating for months. and everything is going better than i could have dreamed, except...my dang cell phone keeps blowing up. it's in my bag, which is hanging on my chair, and everytime i get a message it sends little, tickling waves up into my back and i am completely distracted.

i received the following text messages while i was fighting a (winning) battle with some chopsticks:

[b:] did you give him a bj yet?

[b:] he's staring at your chest.

[b:] stop staring at his dick.

[b:] there's spinach in your teeth.

[b:] fyi our friend hercules is going to crash here tonight. also important to know: he's black & handsome.

[c freddie:] listen em, i'm in your corner and i know you are doing great. but you need to remember to take your panties with you in the morning.

gotta love 'em. but next time the phone's going on silent. smile.

If you wanna ride in my mercedes boy -

2006-08-11T17:14:00.000-05:00

so i have a house on the eastern shore for the weekend. totally empty, totally free and totally stocked with great wine. if you wanna come with, hit me up.

peace.

WAITER, BRING ME ANOTHER MAI TAI!

2006-08-02T18:10:00.000-05:00

i think i have to work that in.

i've spent the last coupla days prepping for my trip this weekend. basically, i've been sweating & drinking. dc has been hotter than it's ever been since i've lived here. and since texas is pretty darn hot in august, i'd say i'm ready.

who would get married in a thousand degree weather? oh who cares.

bring on the festivities!! and the mai tais? margaritas! two at a time.

i promise photos.

Potpourri

2006-07-21T16:15:00.001-05:00

hi.

so the other day i was walking back from...somewhere when i crossed against a light. and these cops stopped me. i thought i was about to be in trouble when one cop said the following, which is the subject of today's hilarity:

things said to me by the opposite sex in the past week

[cop:] did it hurt? when you hit the ground? cause you must have fallen from the sky - you're an angel!

[chicago dude:] you're the greatest! i can't believe it took me so long to talk to you!!

[man hanging out on the block:] you thick! hey thick! hey thick!

[man of color i had to ask what 'thick' meant:] he's talkin' about that phat (fat?) ass.

[man hanging out in the grocery store parking lot:] excuse me miss, you have nice symmetry.

[man hanging out in front of the 7-11 in a wheelchair:] oh man i gotta run home and get the handcuffs for you!!

it's no wonder i'm single.

for the past several weeks 1522 has been operating as a sort of boarding house, or perhaps i should say bed & breakfast, except instead of scones & homemade yogurt we offer a delightful assortment of condiments from foreign lands and a vodka tonic at a moment's notice.

j's brother a was living on the sofa, j was out of his place due to the flooding and k, having intended to only crash while she was looking for a sublet, is staying for the summer. it's been great fun having all this fresh meat around. but then a fell back into the clutches of, well, luv, and j is back in his place and is busy nesting, so it's a good thing we still have k. she makes coffee every morning. it's fab.

what all this has proven is that we do, in fact, have room for extra people in the house. and i think next we should really stop all this yacking and take action - we should get that house boy. preferably one who doesn't speak english.

THAT's the internet ad i'll place!!!

Conversations with Los

2006-07-17T17:47:00.000-05:00

[los:] you have an ad on the internet?
[j:] at least i have one on there! where's yours? i don't see yours!
[los:] but it's easy when you're gay. or jewish.
[j:] huh?
[los:] people are always hooking up on gay.com or jdate. it just works.
[j:] oh yeah. i'm on jdate.
[los:] you're on jdate? but you're not jewish...
[j:] oh come on, THEY'RE LOOKING FOR GOYS!!!
[los:] HA HA HA HA HA HA. this is so going on e2theLos.

fool

2006-07-06T22:13:00.000-05:00

what's so confusing, i asked?

in so many ways, it seems like no time at all has passed, like nothing's changed. but in some ways, it does. he said it so seriously.

i know. good lord, do i know.

in the first hug, he wrapped one arm completely around me & held me so tightly. the other? it stopped on my hip, ready to push me away at the first moment he felt unsure.

i pretended not to notice. keep going, keep going.

we had to push through all the catch up. how's work? how's your family? what have you been up to? oh you did? i heard that. how'd you know, dammit? ah, of course...

but once the work was done, we fell right back into our private comfort - puzzles and breezes and bourbon and swirls & dips and toasts to us. he picked me up and pulled me into his lap. he kissed my face over and over again.

i was happy. i felt like i was home again. this is wonderful. don't fight it.

so i didn't. i stayed there with him inside his apartment, in his music, in his t-shirt covered in his smell, in his arms all night long. it was like it always was. my heater made sure there wasn't one moment, all night long, when we weren't touching.

when we woke, it didn't stop. we spent the entire day there, just the two of us.

am i still asleep? am i dreaming? no. this is real. just enjoy.

and then, suddenly, i felt a shift. his boots were on. he wanted dinner, but something quick. he was really hungry. we had to hurry. but did i have my stuff? i better get it all.

what happened?

WHAM. i was right back there again, right back where i was on that last day we were together, standing on the side of the road holding his hand in both of mine. no, gripping his hand in both of mine because i was so scared to let go. i knew if i did, i'd lose him.

and i did. i lost him.

months later, over a dinner i couldn't eat, i was petrified all over again. i was so scared to let him go, because i knew if i did, i wouldn't see him again. of course, the same thing happened this time. the same thing, all over again.

i didn't learn the first time. but i'll be damned if i didn't the second.

i'm a fucking fool.

29 down, 10 letters

2006-06-29T11:40:00.000-05:00

"High Level of Excitement"

Anyone know? That's where I'm at right now. First correct answer wins a prize.

Today I get to see Aykut & then I am being taken on a date to Wolftrap to see Annie by two really hot ladeez. Saturday is the big soccer game and then I'm going to shoot skeet with someone I love very much who trusts me with a shotgun!

wooWOO! It's not only in da mo'nin!

just dipping in a toe...

2006-05-09T16:26:00.000-05:00

~~sadly,~~ thankfully, there are no pictures of the evening. in a particularly drunken moment at a wedding in february, b accidentally dropped her camera, breaking the lens. apparently, it takes, like, five months to get it repaired, but it did spare me the squirmy moments of having to take pictures on your birthday. (i do, however, have access to some really great photos of that drunken moment. if you bribe me, i'll totally post them.)

i also realized that no one is reading this anymore, as no one even came close to pouring a drink on me. c'est la vie - you're the ones who have to deal with the havoc i'll wreak in another 27-like year, so you're really only hurting yourselves.

speaking of, i kinda want to change everything in my life, all at once. i'm thinking about moving - maybe to a new aparement or house, maybe to a new city. country? i'm thinking about chopping off my hair. i'm thinking about getting a car. or maybe taking a really fabulous trip. or just sleeping with someone who doesn't speak english.

i do like my job, though. it's really teaching me a lot.

things i have learned at my new job:
1. when Jesus returns, it will be to the ladies' restroom at the Kitchen.
2. it is possible for a reptile to come through the earth and bite your leg off.
3. you can smoke crack though a car antenna.
4. a trick only costs $6 - $10. for real.
5. saran wrap will save your life.

you'd love it, too. obviously.

Buckets

2006-04-18T16:25:00.000-05:00

so a friend of mine just returned from thailand, and he happened to be there over the thai new year last week. he was telling me how it's the craziest tradition he's ever seen - everyone throws/squirts/splashes/dumps water on everyone else. from rooftops, from cars, on the streets with buckets. it's just one, giant water fight. it has a symbolic meaning, of course, if you can get past all the wet t-shirts: the water is meant to wash away all the sins and bad juju from the year before and make you clean for the start of the new year.

well, it's not a new year, per se, but a new year in my life, coming up soon. i'm thinking about having all my friends dump a little water on me. no shots, no presents, just a toast and a glass of water. 27 sucked - what do i have to lose?

stay tuned...photos for sure.

Conversations with Los

2006-01-05T19:02:00.000-05:00

[j:] this pear sucks.
[los:] huh?
[j:] this pear sucks.
[los:] there's really no leeway for fruit.
[j:] no. like sex.
[los:] well, sometimes even bad sex is good. like pizza.
[j:] yeah, if you're really hungry.
[los:] but sometimes, like that under-ripe pear, it just leaves you, you know, wanting another pear. but the only one left to have is just another under-ripe pear.
[j:] sigh.

***time lapse***

[j:] yeah e2theLos! it's been a little dry lately.
[los:] like bad sex.

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

2005-11-10T15:34:00.000-05:00

something had been amiss lately, and i couldn't quite put my finger on it. it seemed like the delicate equilibrium of 1522 was somehow off. were the doors locked? check. the trash taken out? yes. nothing rotting in the back of the bottom drawer in the fridge? nope. (well, nothing more than the usual organic head of green leaf lettuce that someone bought in a moment of self over-estimation.) was leroy locked in the laundry closet? no. what, what could it be?

last night the balance was restored, and it wasn't until everything was back to normal that i was able to pinpoint just what was wrong: it had been a long, long while since someone was vodka-drunk on a school night. thank goodness b & g were able to set things straight.

[scene one - kitchen]

los stands alone making corn chowder.

[enter g]

[g, yelling:] b we've got to hurry! the movie starts at 7:30! [g opens freezer, removes vodka, begins to mix drink.]

[enter b]

[b:] hey, why don't you make that in a water bottle so you can sneak it in?

[g:] well, i was just gonna chug it on the walk to the theatre, but I guess that's a better idea.

[los:] why don't you just put the vodka in the water bottle, sneak it in, buy drinks there & then mix in the vodka?

[g & b lock eyes & say, in unison:] that's genius!

[end scene one]

-----

[scene two - bedroom]

los stands alone in her room, folding laundry & listening to bob dylan. it's cranked up so loud that she doesn't hear the front door.

[enter b]

[b, overly animated:] i called your phone, but you didn't answer! we almost got kicked out of the movie by a fat nerd! a nerd! and little g is driz-unk!

[los:] what?! who else is here?

[enter a]

[a, with head covered in bobby pins:] hi! like my hair?!

[los:] oh my goodness. what is going on?!

[enter g, stumbling]

[g:] hi. i'm drunk. [sways]

[b, still overly animated:] this nerd in front of us kept asking us to stop talking - he kept turning around and shhhhh-ing us. and do you know what this one did? [points to g] she mocked him in a fake british accent and kept saying, 'mr. billingsley! mr. billingsley!'

[g falls into closet door]

[b:] i was like, there's no way i can get this white girl home. i called everyone i could think of to come get us. a answered first. so we just showed up at her door and now let's get some chowder - can we have chowder?

[end scene two]

-----

[scene three - kitchen]

[los takes a sip of b's drink:] that's not water!

[b:] hell no! that's vodka and sprite. here, g, eat this.

[g:] just make it so i don't have a hang over tomorrow....i can't have a hang over tomorrow...

[b:] i mean, a nerd! 'mr. billingsley! mr. billingsley!'

[g sneaks out of the kitchen with cell phone in hand. no one notices she is gone until she is heard her talking, loudly]

[g:] i'm drunk. NO, I'M DRUNK.

[los:] what is she doing?! she can't do this.

[b:] oh no, this is a disaster. she only calls boys when she's drunk! ooh, but maybe she's talking to 'mr. billingsley!'

[a, realizing g is on the phone with a boy:] g, you paid for this class! come back here & learn how to give a proper blow job!

[laughter]

[silence]

[a:] moving on to foot fetishes!

[more laughter]

[b:] i gotta go to bed. all this has worn me out.

[end scene three]

-----

[scene four - bedroom]

los sleeps soundly, knowing that all is right in the world.

THE END.

Conversations with Los

2005-11-08T13:17:00.000-05:00

[los:] so how was your trip home?
[j:] oh it was awesome! we went to a craft fair, made homemade pasta, and oh! i noticed there were apples on our tree outside, so we made a pie, too!
[los:] oh barf. that is so martha.
[j:] *smile* but the best part was that i listened to country music all the way home!
[los:] i bet you did.
[j:] windows down, fleece zipped up, skully on...i was so cute. but there was this fabulous song that made me think of you.
[los:] oh?!
[j:] yeah. know what it was called? honky tonk bedonk a donk.
[los:] figures.

Knock Knock

2005-10-27T11:38:00.000-05:00

hello?
i'm the gal who sits next to you
and reads the newspaper over your shoulder.
wait.
i'm not finished...
life is so uncertain.

so, yeah, long time no write, eh? neglectful e2theLos. tsk tsk. i've been thinking a lot, though, trying to come up with funny & interesting things to share, but really it seems like all i can ever think of is how gosh-darn happy i am lately, and that is hard to make interesting. let alone funny. the big lady would love it, but she doesn't know about this site and we're going to keep it that way lest someone cares to lose a finger. i could tell you how the heater takes my glasses off my face every night before i fall asleep, or about how he invited me to spend a week in canada with his family & friends, or about how he sends me little notes that say how wonderful i am - but then you'd have to run into the bathroom and stick your finger down your throat, and, really, bulemia is so '87. but you can see what i'm working with here. it's rough being me.

in other news, 1522 is dressing up in 1970s one-peice jump suits this weekend and filling the house with liquor & taquitos. it'll be far out. photos to follow.

Mexican Jumping Thumb

2005-10-14T14:04:00.000-05:00

my thumb has been twitching. for over a week now. i've tried everything - caffiene, potassium, all sorts of vitamins, more sleep, less sleep, working out, massage. i think i caught something. i hope it's contagious - i'd love a houseful of twitching digits.

in other news, it's raining. for over a week now. i have to admit that i am enjoying it. cool enough for knee socks, boots & a jacket, but not cold. it's perfect for chili and football and sleeping with the windows open curled up with your own personal heater.

maybe i'm twitching from lack of sunshine? nah, it's probably just the crack.

Inventory

2005-09-27T15:48:00.000-05:00

sunshine? check.
70 degree weather? check.
lovey, white fluffy dog waiting for me at home? check?
shopping for new clothes cause everything is too big? check.
fabulous ~~boyfriend~~ gentleman caller who surprises me with weekend getaways? check.
best friend's wedding this weekend? friends & family flying in? check check.
aforementioned fabulous ~~boyfriend~~ gentleman caller coming to said wedding? check.
audience of captivated & enthralled readers? check.

life just doesn't get much better.

And There Was Much Rejoicing Throughout The Land

2005-09-21T15:02:00.000-05:00

e2theLos is proud to announce that she is no longer sans marion!

HAlleluJAH!

How to Spend Your Saturday

2005-09-19T15:46:00.000-05:00

[los:] you don't look so good. late night? hung over?
[j:] no, i just don't feel great.
[los:] you know what'll cure that...
[j:] no really. i've been having chest pains. last night it was really bad...maybe i had a small heart attack.
[los:] OMG was it during sex??!
[j:] you are so out of control.

moments pass.

[j:] i think i need to go to the emergency room.
[los:] are you serious?!?!
[j:] yeah, i just need to get this checked out.
[los:] okay, let's go.
[j:] nah, i'll be fine.
[los:] you cannot take yourself to the er. how depressing. i'll get the cab.

we got there at 3:45pm. we left at 10:15pm. and those six and a half hours now make up one of my most interesting experiences, well, ever.

first there was the snappily-dressed black woman who called her friend to tell her that "there are people here from kentucky!" and "they were on a bus tour!" and "turtles, it's their daughter's wedding anniversary, too, can you believe it?" next there was the stinky, one-shoed man who came in wearing scrubs & pushing one of those half-sized grocery carts. he had to talk to everyone in the er and make a big scene when he didn't get the right paperwork. i get the feeling he spends a lot of time in there. of course, he & his stink had to sit next to me. we moved seats.

at this point, j is called into the actual er. it's been a little over two hours, and i am now left all alone. here's where it gets good.

not five minutes after j abandons me for chest pains, i hear "motherfuckin' health department called my house and shit - why they gotta call my house - they knew i sick they shoulda told me or given me some medicine or shit..." i look up to see this large black woman, wearing so much fake gold jewelry that i actually had to turn my head, coming right toward me. of course. she is carrying a large pizza, a bag of something that smells like french fries, and a huge coke. "...callin' my house - they knew i got something - motherfuckin' health department gave me tuberculosis and shit - i ain't got no air in my house - it a hundred degrees and i bet i got TB." INSERT AWFUL, HACKING COUGH HERE.

she gets her paperwork, sits down next to me, of course and has calmed down to the point that she is no longer yelling - just talking in a loud voice. then she disappears down the hall, but i can still hear her. she comes back about ten minutes later, walks up to the reception desk, and starts yelling about how no one has called her to be triaged yet.

[TB lady:] why nobody ain't called my name yet?
[nurse lady:] ma'am, we called your name already. no one came.
[TB lady:] well i was on the phone.
[nurse lady:] well, you need to stay right here and wait for us to call you.
[TB lady:] shiiit, well then fine i'll stand right here, RIGHT HERE."
[nurse lady:] no, you need to sit down and wait.

tb lady then comes over to the sitting area and asks for fifty cents. no one budges. she shuffles back to where she was on the phone down the hall and says "don't hang up - i ain't got no more change."

at this point it's been almost three hours and i start to pace. whilst i am walking around, two older gentleman who have been talking football walk by me and ask, "skins gonna win monday, right?" to which i responded, "oh, sorry - i'm a dallas fan." at this point, the man in the redskins jersey SPITS AT MY FEET, i shit you not.

tb lady has now come back & has noticed she has a friend in the waiting room. what a small world! tb lady & her friend are commiserating over the lack of ac in their respective homes.

[TB lady:] ain't got no air. all i got to do is just sit in that hot house & suffer.
(i'm thinking, maybe go outside? buy a fan, instead of a large pizza, fries & a coke?)
[TB lady's friend:] you know you gotta write a letter about that shit...let's go outside and have a cigarette.
[TB lady:] yeah, that's what i need - a cigarette.
MORE AWFUL, HACKING COUGHS.

now j sends me a text to come back into the er with him; at least we'll have safety in numbers. but the authoritative presence of the doctors doesn't slow down any of the action: one man kept screaming at random intervals, i saw the police enter an exam room with a camera and a forensics kit, one person came in with an EMT on his chest doing compressions, i heard a rectal exam, one guy in a wheel chair kept sneaking into the er & hiding in a corner, and TB lady gave her phone number to young, hot, gay guy who had been present for all her yelling & coughing. i'm thinking i probably wouldn't call someone who seems so sick - physically and mentally - but maybe that's just me...

let me tell you, if you're ever bored, give yourself a quick stab in the leg with a dull pencil & head on over to the GW er. you'll be there all night, but you'll never be bored...
_______________________
ps - j is just fine. well, as fine as one can be with inexplicable chest pains.

MORE COWBELL!!!

2005-09-07T16:24:00.000-05:00

as if i wasn't proud enough already -

Dear Heather,

I just returned from the Austin Convention Center after working all day with Katrina Evacuees. Austin is hosting 5,000 people and all I can say is that after seeing what 5,000 clean and safe evacuees look like, I can’t even begin to imagine what the Superdome or even the initial arrival at the Astrodome looked like. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that in Houston, whenever a family finds each other or is brought together, they ring a bell — chants of “More Cowbell” have been heard.

I thought that might make you smile.

Cheers,
A faithful reader…
Melissa

untitled

2005-09-01T11:53:00.000-05:00

this morning as i was getting on the metro i grabbed the paper as i always do. and yet again, there was awful, awful news from around the world: 800 die in stampede in baghdad; death toll in new orleans expected in the thousands; russian mothers mourn at child memorial in belsan. about 30 seconds before, i had walked by the site of a car accident in which a taxi drove over the curb, through a fence, into the yard and onto a house porch. what if someone had been sitting there, enjoying the evening, and POW! run over by a cab?!?! i guess it can all go away.

and i was overwhelmed with gratefulness and thanks and a sense of shame that my biggest problems right now are "how will i find the time to pick up my dry cleaning?" and "gosh, i really hope he can come with me to the wedding..." i'm so lucky that what makes me worry and causes my heartache is, in the big scheme of things - even though the anxiety and pain sometimes make my heart race, my hands shake and my stomach turn - really not that big a deal. my family & i are healthy. i have a home. i can afford to buy my dog organic, homemade dog treats. my city is not underwater, i don't expect to be trampled to death, and i am not weeping for the loss of a child.

sometimes i am very good at showing those around me that they are so incredibly important to me and expressing how much i love them. and other times even the thought of putting my hand on his knee causes those shakey hands, the racing heart, the turned stomach. it's so important to let people know how you feel about them. even when it's scary. when i boil it all down, i don't live for my jobs, or shoes, fancy tv, or even my home.

i live for love.

particularly those beautiful moments when i have all my friends around the dinner table. when i can convince g to let me hug her. when b & i can look at each other from across the room and know what the other is thinking. when i catch p kissing leroy. when i see my best friend with her arms wrapped so tightly around the neck of her fiance, eyes closed, knowing that this is as good as gets. when i listen to m talk about the grape. when my oldest friends can tell stories about us from pre-school, and sometimes even before. when my 6-year old God daughter turns to me as we are painting pottery and says, "emmy, i will always remember you...just like this." when my dad emails me and says, "all that matters is that we were all together." when j & i taste a wine together and simultaneously say, "mmmmmm!" when he reads to me in bed, kisses me in his sleep and make sure there's never a moment, all night, when we're not touching.

that's the point. the whole point of it all.

ain't got shit

2005-08-16T12:50:00.000-05:00

there's nothing good to write about. so i'm going to texas, for a week of sunshine and margaritas and avocados and lake water and picking on my little brother and deep eddy-ing with the wind.

see y'all next week. perhaps i'll have a good story or four.

Conversations with Los

2005-08-03T17:21:00.000-05:00

[los:] "bonnie - look at those funky shirts. they're only $7! doesn't charlie need new shirts?!"

[b:] "hell yeah. are there good ones?"

[los:] "i like this one with the pineapples!"

[b:] "are those pineapples? or sea anemones?"

[los:] "who cares? oh and this one with the flowers!"

[b:] "wait, he'd really like this one with the stripes."

[los:] "ew. too 70s cafeteria furniture. ick."

[b:] "okay. how about this one?"

[los:] "who else needs shirts? perry? will? no, that'd freak will out. i'll get one for perry."

[b:] "freak him out? wait...are we wife-ing out here?

...
...
...

[b:] "fuck it. they're $7."

[los:] "right on."

Don't Eat That

2005-07-22T14:07:00.000-05:00

stopped at a red light last night at 7th & mass i traded silly faces with a little blonde boy in the back of a mini-van. this afternoon on the metro i played peek-a-boo with a chubby-cheeked, two-year-old girl.

i think there should be zipkid.com. just like zipcar.com, there's a membership fee, a background check, and a credit card on retainer. then, when you feel like you need some kid time, you just hop on line, choose the most suitable for the occasion, pick it up from its current location and - voila! all the fun & play of a kid (with insurance!) for just $8.50 an hour. plus, you can return it just before happy hour.

genius.

National Weather Service Alert from Agent Getz

2005-07-14T14:59:00.000-05:00

MIAMI - A tropical depression in the Atlantic has developed into Emily

That's a record fifth named storm that has tried an at-home makeover, with much success but as passers-by will comment, oh, that last storm Dennis, well he was just a fashion DISASTER!

The new storm, Emily, is about 5-4, long black hair, with all the right curves and the titties you want. She resides in the middle of the capitol of the free world, an area smashed between the small state of Maryland and the commonwealth of Virginia where a few hottie brothas make her swoon.

According to the National Hurricane Center - in Miami - Emily has great legs, looks fabu in boots, and can wear a pair of dungarees that shows off her booty. It is expected that bubbly personality will strengthen as she absorbs wine on Tuesday, while gradually being more sexy as the night goes on. The projected path of Emily is still unknown, but friends of the storm say that she’s just the sweetest thing.

On The Box: A Trend

2005-07-08T13:22:00.000-05:00

so there's been this thing on blogs lately. one person creates a list of five things that society-at-large likes/gets/appreciates/whatever, yet he/she doesn't. they publish and then tap a friend to the same, and so on & so forth. since no one else i know has a blog, no one has tapped me, but i've actually spent quite a while thinking about this because, really, my list could probably get to be about a million and five things.

but when you stop to think about it, it's actually quite interesting. i've said it before, and i'll say it again: people are just weird. especially people who like/get/appreciate/whatever the things below.

1. futons. i just don't get futons. it's sort of a bed, sort of a couch, but really it's just an uncomfortable platform covered with a cheap, and usually hard, mind you, pad. outside of the singles/grunge era in seattle when all you did was moan about how much you love alice in chains and think about how long it'll take to grow your hair to an appropriately shaggy length, i just can't fathom why you'd would bother with a futon - just make a pallette on the floor and be done with it. i mean who buys this crap?! and these USED futons on craig's list that people describe as "functional" or "stylish" or "space-economic" just leave me speechless. well, apparently not really.

2. leonardo dicaprio. here's the thing: he looks like he's 12, he doesn't even need to shave, he has floppy hair & a feminine voice. and i'm fairly certain he likes kiddie porn. enough said.

3. fake nails. who are you kidding? they're gross. and frankly, they look like they hurt. i don't think your fingernails are enough of a focal point to need to stick some sort of plastic? acrylic? thing on the end. they just look so fake that i think it distracts from the goal (even though, i don't really know what that is).

4. jagermeister. EW.

5. full-butt panties. usually, these do more harm than good. a panty line will do even the best butt a disservice. the panty line cuts the cheek in half and just makes it look so...cut in half. so why, why?, do i see so many girls out there making a grave mistake?! i tell myself maybe they don't have a mirror. or any friends to tell them right from wrong. maybe i should create a PSA: ladies, it's all about the booty - but don't draw negative attention to it. get yourself a thong or a tanga - hell, even go without. it's better. i promise.

So Real I Can Still Feel It

2005-06-21T08:46:00.000-05:00

it's dark and cold outside, but cozy and warm in the car. i have all my belongings, my dog & my boyfriend. i'm not sure where we're going, but i know what we're leaving. we're in socks and sweaters - clothes that make you feel comforted and loved. there's quiet music on the radio, and we're casually singing along, lost in thought and time and the togetherness of the moment.

naturally, he reaches over and touches my thigh in a familiar and affectionate way. the way a lover would easily do, without giving it much thought. his touch sends a wave of calm and excitement over me, a contradiction that is typical of our time together. i love it. and i can tell i love him.

after a time, he breaks the silence. his sexy, thick, rough voice, dripping with his accent, says, "how long is your fucking mother going to follow us?"

ha. all a dream, but yet so so so real.

and the lover? my soulmate? the one with the electric touch? a man who has touched me before, in a familiar way. one who holds my happiness in the palm of his hand. he has the power to bring me to tears - either from pride and joy or bitter disappointment. he can do it all, and without saying a word.

i'm taking the dream as a good sign. we're going to kick some ass tonight.

Things I Found Whilst Cleaning Out My Car This Weekend in Front of Union Station

2005-06-15T14:13:00.000-05:00

one hot pink lighter
one pair of black, velvet gloves
one travel-sized bottle of scope
one used swiffer
one card for tres reyes tamales in san antonio
one booklet of sonic coupons
one half of a parking ticket
three forged parking permits
one wedding-cake-shaped bottle of bubbles
one tube of neosporin
one game of car bingo
one purple, lace thong

E is for Emily, who is back in full effect

2005-06-09T15:54:00.000-05:00

break it down now.

is anyone even still reading this? i'm not sure i would be. e2theLos has been a little boring lately. but i'll confess - suddenly lots of people started reading. and the pressure to be funny, or at the very least entertaining, was intimidating. well, there's that, and all the naughty anonymous emailing i've been doing. but i'll get to that.

there must be something about me that says to people 'go ahead.' this is both a blessing and a curse. take for instance the gentleman who, at the store on friday night, asked for all 5 of our tasting wines to be poured into the same cup. 'the same cup?' 'yeah, lady the same cup. i'm just tryin' to get a drink.' 'okay then....' and i obliged, pouring all 5 wines - whites, reds & a rose - into the plastic cup. he took the wine, drank it in one swallow, and stepped back into the corner...where he proceeded to take. his. pants. off. if i'd known all along that all it took was a cup of wine & then men's pants would come right off, then i could've saved a lot of heartache, not to mention time spent at dollar beer nights pretending who can burp the loudest really is funny. hell.

later that same night a short indian fellow with a big nose and bad hair told my korean friend that asians look like aliens. and this is how he did it:

[short indian fellow with a big nose and bad hair:] if a space ship landed on earth, who do you think would get out?
[laurie:] i don't know...who?
[sifwabnabh:] well, not blacks. cause blacks look like monkeys. and not mexicans. cause mexicans are too lazy. and not whites, just cause. so, asians, cause asians already look like aliens!

when i heard this, i walked right over to him to ask him to leave - you can't openly be a racist in my presence and not suffer some consequences - when i noticed he is drinking an enormous glass of wine that wasn't from our store. perfect excuse. 'excuse me. yes, you. you. with that enormous glass of wine. i'm going to have to ask you to leave with that.' 'then i shall proceed,' he said. and he was about as tall as yoda...

so far i am two for two. sweet. bring it.

i also just found out that we've had a rash of shoplifters lately. i am totally gonna kick some ass if anyone goes near my 1998 rioja. i mean, if they're stealing it, they probably don't have a wine opener. and just the thought of pushing the cork down into the bottle, like we used to do in college when we snuck a bottle of cheap merlot into the sorority house and drank it whilst spying on the sigma chis next door, offends my sensibilities. *shudder*

so my father responds to an email i sent today which contained an article from the NYT about the spurs (i love manu.) his response was "good article. but the way, aunt louise died a few days ago." my mother tells me when she changes her socks. my father forgets to/chooses not to alert me when a family member, with whom i spent a considerable amount of my childhood, passes. and we wonder why their marriage didn't last...or why i am such a weirdo. go figure.

somehow i was totally hung over yesterday. like, i got up from my desk and thought "this is it. i am going to have to throw up in my office bathroom. i have finally reached the bottom. now i know how whitney houston must feel." three drinks over 3 hours plus dinner and an enormous homemade-cream-cheese-iced-brownie should not an office puker make. equally inexplicable is how i managed to convince my entire office that i was downing water, diet coke & advil simply because i didn't feel well. and to think that casting director didn't choose me to play possum in places in the heart. what a waste. i am so misunderstood. and then last night i only got four hours of sleep, and somehow today i am in a great & borderline-offensively perky mood. it certainly doesn't hurt that someone just delivered two andes mints directly to my desk. rock!

but i digress. wait, what was the point? oh yeah - naughty anonymous emailing. so after the crazy times at the store, jason & i opened a bottle of pomerol and decided to hop on craig's list to see what was going down. after a glass, i had the genius idea to post an ad ourselves, just to see what sorts of responses we'd get. i mean, we all know people are freaks, so let's see what they got.

the post read: i've got the titties you've been looking for. send a photo and tell a joke.

that's it - no photos, no stats, no adjective, nuthin'.

i received 55 responses. fifty. five. everything from, "hey, how did you know i was looking for those? i was about to check my backseat again!" to "the titties i've been looking for used to be attached to sharon stone - how'd you get them?" to "got milk?" old men, young men, skinny guys, naked guys, nice guys, geeks, body builders, players, teachers - you name it, they were interested. and persistent. as of yesterday, the emails were still rolling in.

all in all, it was a totally amusing experiment. i highly recommend getting drunk with your gay guy friends and having them craft your sexy responses, mostly cause if you're anything like me, you will be too shocked or too busy giggling to do it yourself. but it'll salvage a saturday night. try it. you'll see.

i'm pretty sure that after figuring out that guys like titties, however, i'm fairly close to curing the common cold. please, no autographs.

TOOL!

2005-05-31T14:14:00.000-05:00

In Case of an Emergency

2005-05-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

Internet -

This message shall serve as your official warning as to the level of feistiness you are currently experiencing. The below chart is an easy-to-read, color-based guide, designed for all ranges of familiarity with feistiness.

Your current level of fiestiness is: HIGH.

HIGH levels of fiestiness are characterized by a sassy mouth and a spiked sense of humor.

SEVERE levels of fiestiness are known for the suggestion of truth or dare, flashing and practical jokes.

Common triggers causing an increase in level from HIGH to SEVERE are known to be vodka, flirting, and the proximity of exciting social plans.

Please note that the status of said feistiness can change abruptly and without warning. It is best to stay prepared. For more information on preparedness, please visit: www.readyforfeistye.gov

Regards,
Your Local Office of Fiest

He Strikes Again, That Borf

2005-05-18T12:37:00.000-05:00

...Till You Funk

2005-05-12T08:05:00.000-05:00

tuesday night we crunked it on the porch. we had so much fun i had to go to bed early. but before i did, i sent myself a text message with specific words from the outrageous conversations that night, to jog my memory and so that i could share them with you, internet.

but now that i'm decrunkified, i have no idea what this means:

"Labia. peed. Girls. sex. Feet."

i am so amused.
_________________
*update - i was just looking through old work notes, and i came across this, written in really big, bold letters:

FLUFFY BUBBLE TUSH.

How to Freak Out Your Coworkers, As Evidenced By e2theLos

2005-05-09T09:30:00.000-05:00

show up to work on a monday morning really cheery. say 'good morning' to strangers. smile at everyone. be able to complete a sentence that doesn't end in: dammit; you're gonna have to give me a minute; wait, i haven't had my coffee yet; or a yawn.

i'm telling you, they're running scared.

I Can't Stop Twitching

2005-05-06T12:26:00.000-05:00

i just spent the last two hours on the phone with john, my techie, in an, apparently, futile attempt to save my email account. john is in charleston, west virginia on a wildlife refuge with deer and geese (although they hiss, and you aren't allowed to kick them) and an occasional bear, where it's sunny and they have email.

i am sitting at my desk, it's cloudy out and i have no email. life is unfair.

i am an email addict. really, an addict. my blackberry wasn't called my marion barry for nothing. i have my server set to check for my email every 60 seconds. i read it immediately as it comes in. some of my finest prose, my funniest moments, my most impressive professional accomplishments have occurred via email.

and yet today i was reduced to this:

"hello, email help desk, this is john."

"JohnYou'veGottaHelpMe-MyEmailIsTellingMeIHaveMessages-ButTheMessagesAren'tProducedOnMyScreen-TheyAreInSomeSortOfEmailPurgatoryAndIAmDyingHere-ThisIsTheWorstFormOfTorture!"

so we tried to uninstall, reinstall, clean up the folders, reboot and it's just, well, dead. now someone from the email powers that be is supposed to call me back to resuscitate my email.

until then, i'll just be sitting here twitching with this taped to my desk -

Hey Y'all - Remember Me?!?!

2005-05-04T13:35:00.000-05:00

i'm baaaaaaaaa-aaaaaack!

and just in case you forgot:

my comments hoster lost it's server, so i'm in the process of hooking up another one. i hope to transfer all the old comments. it's doubtful, but i'd hate to lose all your snarky-ass comments.

***update: new comments up and running!

TwentySeven

2005-04-21T15:28:00.000-05:00

yesterday i turned twentyseven.

hello, my name is emily carsldfjujfifoidhf, and i'm twentyseven.

HI EMILY!

i don't feel any older. i don't feel sad. i don't feel like i should lie and say i'm twentyfour (ahem ahem.) i don't feel much of anything...except totally loved. and extremely grateful.

my friends threw me a fantastic fiesta on the roof, in the sunshine. it doesn't get much better. well, see for yourself.

getting the party started

bonnie snuck out of the house, headed to cake love to procure some delectable cupcakes, and she even decorated them herself!

see how delectable?!?!

i also got a pink flamingo martini shaker - to match my pink flamingo tumblers i got last year! it was awesome.

AND A NATS HAT!!!

which are very popular...

for the first time in twentyseven years, i had ethiopian food. YUM-MY.

my friends even showed up dressed. don't they clean up good?

but really, everyone knew all i wanted was some hot mens.

it was a wonderful night! thank you to everyone who came and ate and drank and made me laugh. but most of all, for not telling all those stories about little miss wonderpants. i love y'all.

It's More Interesting That Way, You Know?

2005-04-19T11:59:00.000-05:00

A Graffiti Legend Is Back on the Street
By RANDY KENNEDY

Published: April 18, 2005

He arrived on foot, and on time, wearing heavily grease-stained beige overalls and boots. He seemed to be in his late 30's or early 40's, with thinning light brown hair. He had the windburned eyes and blackened fingernails of an ironworker, along with the vaguely feral intensity of someone on the lam.

But he hardly looked like the kind of shadowy revolutionary figure who had once declared that his goal was to "tear the city to pieces and rebuild it." Now, he says, smiling weakly, "I stop at stop signs; I pay taxes; I get up and go to work and get a paycheck."

In the New York graffiti world of the early 1990's, he was everywhere and larger than life, sometimes literally: the name Revs, usually accompanied by that of his partner in crime, Cost, could be found scrawled, wheat-pasted or painted in gargantuan white letters on overpasses, walls and roofs from SoHo to northern New Jersey. The work upended many traditional notions of graffiti and helped inspire a new generation of so-called street artists.

Then in late 1994 Cost was arrested for vandalism. Revs went underground and left the city for Alaska. And when he returned, his work went mostly underground, too - into the subway, where he painted long, feverish diary entries worthy of a Dostoyevsky character on dozens of walls hidden deep inside the tunnels. (He called this a personal mission and said he did not care if anybody else saw them.)

But over the last few years, he has re-emerged into public view and reincarnated himself in a way few of his fans ever expected, as a legitimate and (mostly) law-abiding sculptor. He has made dozens of works using construction-grade steel and other metal parts and has sought the permission of building owners to weld and bolt them to the outsides of buildings in the meatpacking district, the East Village, the Gowanus Canal area and Dumbo, where the gentrifying but still half-deserted streets have become a veritable Revs gallery.

Yet unlike many former graffiti artists who have turned their street credibility into successful careers as graphic designers or youth-market branding gurus, Revs has continued to shun, angrily, the worlds of conventional art and commerce. He makes his living about as far from the art world as possible, as a union ironworker, surrounded by co-workers who mostly have no idea of his reputation as a near-mythical deity of the graffiti world. His only gallery show, in Philadelphia in 2000, was to raise money so he could pay a lawyer after he was arrested for the subway graffiti. Otherwise, he has refused to sell his work or take commissions for it.

"To me," he said recently, in a rare interview, "once money changes hands for art, it becomes a fraudulent activity."

He also continues to avoid publicity. In order to find him, a reporter contacted several graffiti aficionados, most of whom warned that Revs, whoever he was, would probably not cooperate. Calls eventually led to Julia Solis, an author and photographer who specializes in charting forgotten and subterranean New York. She agreed to pass a message along to Revs. A day later, a call came to the reporter's home from a man with a thick New York accent who agreed to an early-morning meeting in Brooklyn, at an intersection almost beneath the Manhattan Bridge, on the condition that his photograph not be taken and his name and age not be revealed.

He apologized for the cloak-and-dagger routine but said that his anonymity was still his most prized possession. "I don't want to become nobody; I just want to do what I do," he said, stressing, as a kind of implied message to the police, "I'm not trying to stage a major comeback or anything." (The New York Police Department confirms that he has not been on the radar screen of the Citywide Vandals Task Force since his arrest in 2000.)

But Revs fans can be forgiven for thinking a comeback is in the works. Over the last several months, pictures of the sculptures have shown up on several street-art Web sites. This has prompted graffiti cognoscenti to scour the streets to find - and in a few places, to wrench loose and steal - the works, most of which are clustered in or close to Manhattan, although some have been discovered as far afield as Queensboro Plaza.

"He's huge, you can't deny it," said Will Sherman, a photographer who operates a Web site called untitledname.com and has scouted out several Revs works recently. "I have a lot of respect for him not just as a graffiti artist or street artist but as an artist in general."

Peter Sutherland, another photographer, spent a year tracking Revs down. Last year, in a book of portraits of graffiti artists titled "Autograf," he featured a picture of the artist himself, though his face is completely covered by a cap. "I'm a photographer and I don't usually get intimidated or impressed by celebrities," Mr. Sutherland said. "But when I met Revs, I kind of geeked out."

During the recent two-hour interview in Brooklyn, Revs conducted a proud tour of half a dozen of his metal sculptures, only one of which he said he installed without permission: a tall, heavy piece that spells out "Revs," welded several years ago to the top of an abandoned loading dock. Asked how he was able to weld something so large and distinctive to a building without attracting a crowd and eventually a phalanx of police, he shook his head.

"I can't talk about my techniques," he said sternly. "It's a trade secret, you know? It's my cloaking device."

Over the last few years, he said, he has made more than 100 metal pieces, some weighing hundreds of pounds, and he estimated that he has installed about two-thirds of them with permission, including nearly all his most recent sculptures. He says that while he may not be a guerrilla street painter anymore - some of the 1990's wall paintings were more than 10 feet tall in the middle of sheer walls, most likely requiring a harness and ropes to accomplish - he is still a fully committed outsider, and his work will be seen only outside, on New York City streets, as long as he keeps making it.

He kicked one the pieces, made from two-inch-thick steel, part of a column left over from a construction project where he once worked near the Port Authority bus terminal.

"A car can back up into it," he said. "Somebody can get their head cracked open on it. A dog can go on it. Somebody can paint it if they want. It rusts. It's more interesting that way, you know?"

But is it any less interesting because it's legal?

He smiled. "I might still have a few little knickknacks scattered around in places where they're not supposed to be, who knows?" he said. "I'm not commenting on that."

i think if i met borf i would 'geek out.'

Cheese Porn

2005-04-14T12:59:00.000-05:00

last night i attended a wine & cheese event at national geographic. i arrived with every expectation of working the event, but short of laying down a few plates of cheese, my friends & i were guests. we were treated to rounds and rounds of wine and cheese. and when i say cheese, i mean obscure, raw-milk cheeses from france that dance on your tongue and make you "mmmmm!" and "aaah!" with pleasure. it was unbelievable.

steve jenkins from fairway was our featured speaker and cheese monger for the evening - and that man has a passion, a fire within, for cheese. at one point during the discussion, well, a lecture, really, on how ridiculous it is that the FDA won't allow raw-milk cheeses in the states, steve worked up a sweat from yelling and waving his arms. he was like a baptist preacher. about cheese.

after the seventh or so cheese we tasted, my friend leaned over to me and said, "this is like cheese porn!" and she slumped back in her chair, acquiescing to the decadence on her plate and in her glass.

but it didn't end there. from the tasting we headed back to the store for more discussion on wine with the ceo & founder of the company. champagne, brunello, port - you name it, we opened it. and from there it was on to dinner ohmigosh i can't believe i was able to eat any of that crabcake salad.

and you know, the night just unraveled. i'll never understand how my life unfolds - but then again, i don't really want to. it just rolls over you. one moment it's work, the next it's cheese porn. first it's a lazy saturday afternoon, then it's margaritas on the porch with ten friends. one minute you can't believe that you're actually there with the asshole who will only say one thing all night and the next you're lost in thought dreaming about his hands. pardon? how did this happen? how did i get from there to here?

this is like my current theme - the unexpected just happens, and you have to roll with it. when you do, life is better than you thought before. i'm just thrilled.

Conversations with Los

2005-04-08T13:55:00.000-05:00

[los:] what up, homeslice?

[dad:] yo! tell me about your trip.

[los:] i know, i've been meaning to call. but can you believe i've been busy everynight this week?

[dad:] call this weekend. REAL tomato ketchup eddie?

[los:] yes sir. a liger? it's a cross between a tiger & a lion. it's practically my favorite animal.

[dad:] stop right now and go fix yourself a DANG quesadilla!

[los:] GAH you're bruising all my neck meat!

[dad:] no fair. that was going to be my next one.

[los:] i could have ripped your mole off.

[dad:] well, stop eating all the steak.

my dad is totally cooler than your dad.

What Gilligan Really Needed

2005-04-06T14:58:00.000-05:00

i spent last weekend in mexico city (insert woeful and longing sigh here) and it was a dream come true. you know when you build things up in your head and there's just no possible way reality can keep up? yes? well, this wasn't it. reality was even better.

during the weekend we took a side trip to san luis potosi for a rugby match. on the way back, our companeros had a little car trouble: the engine was overheating. on the side of highway 57, two men, ofo & jeffrey, peered under the hood of the car trying to fix the problem while roxy & i tried to stay out of the way...of them & oncoming traffic. after five minutes or so of pure dicking around, i suggest to the boys that a good solution, albeit temporary, is to turn on the heater.

"really?"

"si, really."

heater on, temperature guage takes a nose dive.

and we're off again! ... but not for long.

a mile or so later, jeffrey's car pulls off to the "side" of the road - into a dusty patch of dirt that backs up to a strip of cinderblock structures. a sign on one of the stuctures announces that they can fix tires. great! perhaps a mechanic is there, too?

no. of course not.

so as jeffrey & roxy wait in the car, ofo & i head off to find a mechanic. after stopping in to see at least four different mechanics, we finally stumble onto two young guys who look more like cholos than anything else. they offer to come with us to attempt to fix the car. as this is sunday AND we've found no better options, we take them up on it.

the cholos proceed to do the following in an attempt to fix the car: pull out several really big tools, get their hands really dirty, and flush out all of the antifreeze. still, nothing.

in all the to-do, several large, and some shirtless, mexican men have come out of the aforementioned structures to see what's going on. what do they find? two city boys who can't fix a car, a mexican model, and, probably, the whitest person they have ever seen. i felt like a spectacle.

after several hours of sitting in the sun and dust (and did i mention peeing in the mexican brush?), the car is started using only water & a very small peice of plastic.

evidence A of what gilligan really needed.

so, once again, we're off! ... but not for long.

not a mile later, ofo & i hear this thumpthumpthump and the car starts shaking.

"what's that?" he asks.

"i think it's a flat tire..."

"FUCK."

so, we're once again on the side of the road. we not only had a flat tire, but, as jeffrey said, ofo tore the fuck out of it. it was a goner. but ofo changed that tire, by himself, in less than five minutes and he hardly broke a sweat.

(glorious and totally sexy) evidence B of why gilligan was screwed.

so we're off! ... and for long. for about four hours this time.

we're just pulling into mexico city when we hear the all too familiar thumpthumpthump. yes, internet, a second flat tire. i started laughing and could. not. stop. i was completely amused. who cares that it's dark and we hardly have any money; this is hilarious.

(needless to say, ofo didn't find it quite has funny as i did.)

luckily, a tow truck stopped for us in less than five minutes. after a brief conversation, ofo comes running back to the car and says, "okay, i took care of it. he's going to fix it. get your stuff."

"uh...we're going with him?"

next thing i know i'm in the enormous diesel truck, flanked by ofo & the driver, and we're going over the edge of the highway.

after a brief drive and one unsuccessful stop, we finally stop at a little shack that looks strangely familiar to me...oh yeah, i had noticed it from the highway two days before. but tonight it is bustling: two men barely five feet tall, covered in grease and grime, are throwing around tires big enough for a semi truck. seriously, the tires are almost as tall as they are. and they're working on more than one tire at once - it was incredible.

i decided it was safe to venture from the car once several of the male customers had left. the truck diver and i start talking, and he realizes i'm from washington, dc.

"so, you must know world-wide currencies then?!"

"si..." the question was so absurd i almost thought i had misunderstood him.

he reached around to his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and showed me a foreign bill.

"i found this in the airport a year ago. i've been carrying it around but no one can tell me where it's from. i'm sure you can, since you're from dc."

so i look on one side, examining the text and the images - i have no idea. it's worth 10,000 whatevers, though. i flip it over, and i see 'zagreb.'

"this is from bosnia*! see this word here? that's a city. wow - bosnia. so cool, no?"

he didn't know bosnia.

"how much is it worth?"

"i have no idea. really, no idea."

"please, guess. it's very important. in american dollars, how much?"

"gosh, maybe $10? $20? really, i don't know."

"so, 100 or 200 pesos?" and he smiled.

this exchange, this improbable, totally coincidental moment, made me very, very happy. it made me feel like we were karmically even: he stopped to help us; i satisfied a mystery.

so the tire is fixed by the little, greasy man. the driver takes us back to the car. he and ofo replace the tire with sychronized, smooth movements.

evidence C.

once back in the car, i say to ofo, "i'm not sure if it's 'cause i'm a girl, or if it's cultural, but i'd never trust anyone who stopped to help me on the side of the road. never."

"oh, i didn't trust him either. i had my knife in my pocket the whole time."

evidence D.

if i were ever stuck on a deserted island, what would i take with me? not my lover, not my dog, not my best friend, not a book or music, not a water distiller...not even sunscreen.

i'd take a mexican. any ole mexican.

they're friendly, they make really plain food taste incredible, and man, they can fix things.

had gilligan had a mexican he'd have been off that island in no time at all.

************
*e2theLos realizes that the bill is croatian, not bosnian. but, it's practically the same thing.

Bearer of Bad News

2005-04-01T15:02:00.000-05:00

The Lamb here, guest posting by request from the Los.

As you all may know, it's the FIRST ANNIVERSARY EDITION of e2theLos! So it should be an exciting, fun day, as I have been wanting to guest post for months, and here I am, finally, just in time for a special occasion! But it should be the Los who is writing here, laughing and celebrating her first anniversary.

Instead, the Pope is dying and Los is sitting at home, alone (save Squirrelly), probably watching Days and Jerry Springer. She might even be drinking - who knows? Is she crying? Probably not - she doesn't really cry over stuff like this, and besides - there's too much irony here for her actually to be upset.

The Los was DOOCED.

Wednesday afternoon she was sitting innocently enough at her desk, carrying on 14 email conversations and reading the comments you lovely readers left about her wine store posting. A stifled laugh (in response to the squirrel reply) elicited interest from her boss, so he sauntered over and asked what she was reading. She told him about her blog, and he was totally intrigued - he read over her shoulder for a bit. He seemed interested and wanted to read more on his own, so she kindly emailed him a link to her beloved blog, which he spent the next hour and a half reading.

At the end of the day, he called her into his office. Their conversation went something like this:

"Your blog is great! I've never even been sure about what a blog actually was."

"Thank you - I'm so glad you liked it!"

"I read a lot of it, and it's obvious that you've put a lot of work into it."

"Absolutely - I try to write every day, but sometimes it takes so long to plan and get each posting just right, I really can only get one in every few days."

"It's lucky this isn't one of the sites we've blocked, isn't it?"

[This is where she could have had a bit more foresight:]

"Really! Especially because I don't even have a computer at home - I wouldn't be able to do this at all!"

"Well, that's what I thought - I just wanted to be sure I understood correctly. So you've been working on this pretty much every day for the past YEAR?"

"That's right - my anniversary is Friday! Any ideas for how to celebrate?"

[Long pause...]

"I don't think you'll be celebrating - you're fired! The blog's great, but we haven't been paying you to work on that crap! Do you think we're all a bunch of idiots? Pack up your stuff and be gone within an hour."

So I hope you've all really enjoyed reading. Los's devotion (and trusting nature, and uncanny ability to multi-task for so long that it took her boss a WHOLE YEAR to notice anything) got her fired. DOOCED!!

For those of you who are relatively new readers, you might not catch the full irony here: it was the blog Dooce that inspired e2theLos, and the Dooce was fired for her blog - not for spending too much time on it, but for what she said in it about her coworkers. You can read about it at http://www.dooce.com. Since I'm new, I don't know how to make this just a link. But I'll figure it out eventually.

I guess it all depends on how long it takes the Los to find another job - she could fall back on the wine store, but she doesn't have her own computer there. So for a few weeks at least, I'll be here.

You all knew she'd get you somehow - that's right: April Fool's!!

So You're Not Drinking Any Fucking Merlot

2005-03-28T16:08:00.000-05:00

i encounter a lot working wine retail.

there are the people who won't drink red wine, or the people who won't drink white. there are the people who think veuve cliquot is the best champagne ever bottled. there are the people who think it's okay to make out in the middle of our store. there are the people who say they're allergic to red wine, that red wine gives them headaches, or they can't have sulphites. (hello? do you drink oj?) there are the people who think it's hilarious and/or insightful to quote sideways incessantly whilst discussing the relative characteristics of a pinot noir. (hello. HE is pinot noir. put on your critical thinking cap.) one woman even told me she refuses to drink wines grown above the 49th parallel because they make her ill.

to all these people i want to scream, "PUH-LEEZE you idiot! do you any idea how much crap you're spewing?"

but instead, i smile real nice like and suggest something that seems to fit within their arbitrary prerequisites.

there are, however, certain things i can't stand.

i don't care for it when people throw their credit cards at me, or their cash. (i didn't just service you; hand me that $50 like a gentleman.) i question their mama's judgment when i offer to help someone and i am completely ignored. this past weekend a woman yelled at me when i wasn't pouring her wine fast enough. there are the guys who stare at my chest and the ones who invite me to go home and drink the bottle they've just purchased. once, a guy actually grabbed my ass.

it's official, internet: people are weird.

No Book Ever Has A Good Enough Cover

2005-03-25T12:42:00.000-05:00

i walk by tucker every day at least once. he's the guard who sits outside our office. he's friendly, tall, black, muscular, always smiling, and his head nods up and down when he says good morning.

"hey tucker! good morning!"
"all right, all right. how's it going?"

we make some small talk about our weekends. he's going to jersey, his neices are coming over, he's got a ball game.

but this morning it was different. tucker asked if i ever saw def poetry jam - yes i did, last season - he writes poetry; do i write - yes, i do, but not poetry - oh, he also does spoken word - i've only gotten behind a mic once - well, let him read something for me that he wrote this morning.

tucker pulled out a scrappy peice of yellow legal paper with scribbles on the front and the back, leaned over the desk and took a deep breath. he then proceeded to read, with perfect elegance, an articulate and beautifully written poem about the pain of letting someone go when you know it's the right thing to do, even though your heart doesn't agree. he spoke with an eloquent cadence, terrific poise, and a command of his words and emotions.

i was totally amazed. i closed my eyes as he read and listened to his perfect word choice. i knew exactly how he felt. i was right there with him. it was incredible. he has an amazing talent and i'm so glad i know this side of him now. just imagine how many people don't.

i love it when life suprises me.

$Two Dollar Poke$

2005-03-22T12:15:00.000-05:00

it all started last winter when, on a particularly snowy day, i stayed home to watch the six-hour movie of lonesome dove - one of the best westerns of all time. if you don't fall madly in love with augustus mccrae and the landscapes and the way of life back then, well, check your pulse. but in the movie there's a whorehouse, upstairs from the saloon, of course, and the cowboys swing in for a shot of whiskey, a hand of cards, and a two dollar poke.

that's right, a two dollar poke.

now you just can't say the phrase two dollar poke around the people I live with, no sir. they will snatch it, grab onto it, and never let it go. suddenly everything was two dollar poke.

"hey, can you get me a drink?"
"only for a two dollar poke!"

"oh shit, i've only got three dollars."
"that'll get you a poke and a half!"

poke poke pokety poke.

it didn't take long for the two dollar poke jokes to dissolve into a myriad of hooker, ho, dirty slut, oh i know why your knees hurt jokes. i have had entire email conversations with genevieve that go something like: hooker. i know you are. nuh-uh, you are. oh yeah, well i saw you were on sale for $1.95, you slut bag.

and they just keep being funny. always.

so last night as bonnie was touting her multi-tasking abilities, i naturally responded with, "yeah, you can give a blow job AND make change for a twenty at the same time!"

the whore.

Get Yer Duct Tape, Yer Bottled Water, Yer Plastic Sheeting

2005-03-18T15:58:00.000-05:00

i'm taking bonnie to church on sunday.

you might want to get provisions, just in case the world does, in fact, end.

********
update: you don't need duct tape, bottled water or plastic sheeting. but you do an industrial-sized boxed of kleenex, 'cause when they announce that a member of the parish has asked for prayers because he is taking his father off life support that very morning, timed with our prayer request, you, bonnie and all your friends are going start crying and just. not. stop.

Conversations with Los

2005-03-17T12:52:00.000-05:00

scene one - the office

[k]: come on. let's go to mcdonald's. i'll be your partner in crime - your wife will never know!

[s]: i think mcdonald's is slowly killing me...

[k]: no! it's good. come on. let's go.

[los]: y'all know how i feel about mcdonald's. ick.

[k]: i'll even let you have my fries, since i gave them up for lent.

[s, squirming]: no, i better get something else. no mcdonald's.

[los]: two donuts and then mcdonald's - that will kill you.

[s]: i know. so what should i get then?

[los]: go get a salad. i'll go with you.

[k]: MCDONALD'S!!!!!!

[s]: sigh.

scene two - mcdonald's

[k]: awesome.

[los]: so, what'd you get?

[k]: two burgers, chicken mcnuggets and a coke. but no fries!

[los]: good for you. where's s?

[k]: over there, in line.

k gets coke. los glances around mcdonald's, disgusted.

[los]: mmm, mcdonald's. so, what'd you get?

pause.

[dude]: uh...a salad?

[los]: YOU'RE SO NOT S! HA!

[other dude, who had overheard]: ha! that's okay; it's fun to ask. me? i got a big mac.

[los, to myself]: i am such an ass.

Cacophony

2005-03-15T14:24:00.000-05:00

"why don't you post more?" he asks.

cause there's so much in my head right now that i can't find anything and put it down here.

how did you make a cake that came out like cornbread - you always say what you're not going to tell me; that's mean - are you going to buy new panties - words don't restore - now he's not speaking to me - but wasn't that the point - are we going to church this weekend - what if it's weird to be there - what if it's not all we expected because we've built it up too much and there was no way reality could compete with our ideal - are you going to buy more detergent - maybe you should get some drain-o - you lost 8 pounds, get in the gym and lose 8 more - maybe i shouldn't talk about it with her - how close do i let her get again before she fucks it, and me, up even worse - i'm being replaced; it's exactly what i joked about and now he is actually doing it - if i go to the party is he going to be there with his fiancee - i don't give a fuck, but people will be looking to me for a reaction - ugh, the pressure - i had you on my hands and in mouth for days, that's what i didn't say - but it's all the same old bullshit anyway - i threw the sole blow, but you, you threw the first stone - man, i'm supposed to make green jello shots - i can't wait to see our skin together again - god i want to be there sooner, but, at the same time, i don't want it to ever come - isn't it nice where we are, don't you want to keep it that way forever so it never sours and never hurts - must think of april fool's jokes - why does my dad respond to my emails with a quotes from national lampoon's vacation - i need to go to the dentist - on my hands - the first fucking stone.

There Are the Things You Do For Your Friends...

2005-03-11T10:04:00.000-05:00

...and then there are the things you do for your friends.

this post is all about the latter.

it started simple enough, or so i thought. rachel - aka THE BRIDE - and i - aka the bridesmaid, but really, let's call it what it really is, THE PAWN IN THE GAME OF BRIDESMAID DRESSES - had been discussing dress options. she was sending me out with a list of the dresses we had agreed seemed to be the best. (notice how i am stressing seemed? well, yeah. bridal salons are in some sort of alternate reality where good is bad. the evidence is below.)

armed with my dress list, a diet coke, a strapless bra, my highest heels, a camera, bonnie - aka THE AMUSED - and a higher than usual dose of self confidence, i set off to try on dresses.

"Hello and welcome to your handy pocket guide to bridesmaid dress shopping! Here you will find invaluable advice and insight, as well as some fun shopping tips! If there's anything I can do to make this a more pleasant experience, please help yourself to a drink. I suspect that will smooth over any possible turbulence. Beware the salesladies, though: I have no control in their ferocious realm.

Basic guidelines to bridesmaid dress shopping:
1. Always find the dress with the most - most ruffles, most bows, most tiers to the skirt. Those are the ingredients of the most beautiful dress.
2. Always hide your face from the salesperson - it will throw them off your trail. Instead, skip the underwear and moon them as frequently as possible.
3. Always take your best lesbian friend with you. You will need her help in the dressing room. "

internet, consider yourselves warned.

EXHIBIT A

i call this one "holding it up." NONE of these dresses fit correctly. and no one who worked there was willing to help me. i can't tell if it was because they read the email above or because of, well, see exhibit b.

EXHIBIT B

i mean, we are nothing if not classy bitches.

EXHIBIT C

HORSE BUTT. bonnie got a real kick out of this one. she kept grabbing all that fabric in the back and saying, 'look! i have a tail - just like a horse!' horsey was the most deceiving of all the dresses. it had been my favorite in the photos. but, now i say neigh.

EXHIBIT D
this is where the whole ordeal just took a turn for the worse. i loathed this dress from the moment i saw it in the photos. and when the sales ladies said, "oh, this is one of my favorites! everyone loves this dress!', i just about gagged.

i did, in fact, look as bad in real life as i do in this photo. two words: preppy linebacker.

EXHIBIT E
as if the OUTSIDE of the dress weren't bad enough, the underlayers bugged the fucking shit out of me. lime green satin + box pleats + a bow (are you kidding me?!) + itchy crinoline = one grumpy los who won't let go of her vodka tonic. is that what you want walking down the aisle? i didn't think so...

people, i know. i can feel your shudders from here.

Conversations with Los

2005-03-08T11:14:00.000-05:00

[bonnie:] BURP.
[los:] ew. that was awful.
[bonnie:] oh whatever. i'm with family!
[los:] really? aw bees. that's the sweetest thing you've ever said after a burp!

[los:] if she gets to move into the back house she's going to start doing coke!
[bonnie:] no she won't! coke is ghetto.
[weave:] oh no. coke is the rich woman's crack. and crack is WHACK.

[bonnie:] her family went on vacation without telling her!
[weave:] that's hilarious!
[los:] i'm glad y'all think this is so amusing. i actually find it rather upsetting.
[bonnie:] it's so 'home alone!'
[los:] hmpf.

[los:] genevieve, i am talking to you.
[bonnie:] oh babe. she's reading about gael. you've lost her.
[weave:] 5'6"! he's only 5'6"! damn!
[jessica:] genevieve, do you know how tall you are? you can totally date someone who is 5'6".
[los:] i can't believe you can get away with saying that to her.
[weave:] damn...5'6"...

[bonnie:] can you imagine hearing a laugh like that? and in the bedroom?
[los:] can you imagine being scared of a dick?

[bonnie:] okay, what if we mix the vodka with big red?
[los:] sure!
[bonnie:] do you think it'll be too sweet? should we put a lime in it?
[los:] i think it'll do in a pinch. i mean, it has vodka in it, right?

[los:] you are such a dirty slut.
[bonnie:] whatever. you're the one who's in love with a mexican.

Feisty Fridays

2005-03-04T13:35:00.000-05:00

come friday, you better watch out. i am feisty. there is just no telling what i'll do or say. email, however, is where i really feist.

welcome to another feisty friday! i'll be your foxy feistress, providing for all of your feisting needs.

i find it hard to sit still, what with all this feisting to do. there are boys to flirt with, thursday night tales to regale, blogs to hit just once more before the weekend, drinks to be had, plans to discuss - it's endless.

what are you wearing? have you slept with your boss yet?

in a particularly feistful bout of friday feistiness, i was going to delete my last post. i didn't like where it was going, and i regretted that i used e2theLos as a means to communicate with one person in particular. (last night i had thought it clever to respond to jack's post on his blog that was clearly about me, but this morning i reconsidered.)

once i checked my comments, however, i knew it had to stay. you people are funny.

tell me, is friday feistiness contagious?

Confidential to Jack

2005-03-03T20:07:00.000-05:00

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind.

-susie

I Heart Borf

2005-03-01T11:51:00.000-05:00

The Post

Ben's Chili Bowl

U Street

Stencils

A Flyer

My Favorite

If anyone knows about Borf, don't tell me. I'm enjoying the mystery.

Donk whomp whomp, is this thing on?

2005-02-18T22:00:00.000-05:00

Yeah... Bees here. In the hizz-ouse. I thought I should take this opportunity to tell you a funny story about e2thelos. But then I was thinking about it and well, there aren't any. She's very...

dour
and boring
and hardly ever leaves the house
and nothing ever happens to her.

But funny stuff happens to me ALL THE TIME.

Like today,I was in a meeting for work. After the real work was concluded, my big boss introduced us to his new lady-friend. My big boss and my immediate boss had described her to us before she arrived as being "less of a rommance and more of an adventure" and "kinda loopy, but in the good way." So I was not at all sure of what to expect.

So she came in and my big boss invited us to "interview" her in a joking way and I asked where she grew up and someone else asked what she did for a living. Then our other colleague, who tends to pull this kind of crap, went ahead a blurted out a more personal question with, "What's your maritial history?" You know, not to like, put too fine a point on it with someone you met five minutes ago, or anything..!

But really, the new lady-friend did me proud and taught me a thing or two about responding to people's nosy-ass questions. Basically, she went the ridiculous route. She said simply,

"Well I was married to a man once. We met through the personals in "local-city-magazine" and on our first date, he played "Deck the Halls" on a piece of floss on the "famous-late-night-show" show. I just knew I was in love that night. But a year and a half later, he was at an ashram in California making pickles for Krishna and I just knew it wasn't going to work out."

Floss? Love? Pickles? I have no idea if any of it was actually true, what with her being kinda nutty and all - but I don't care, because that shut Little Miss Nosy the hell up, RIGHT QUICK.

Ridiculous AND effective? I can dig it. If things don't work out with her and my big boss, I'm so totally gonna date her crazy ass! (Just as soon as e2thelos teaches me all about that lesbian kind of sex..)

The Case of the Missing Sanity

2005-02-17T12:08:00.000-05:00

somewhere between last night, when i went to sleep all responsible and clean, and this morning, when i woke up a whole three hours early with my stomach in my throat, i lost my sanity. missing. gone. buh-bye.

who's the girl who keeps forgetting what she's doing? YO!

the one who just went down the elevator for no reason whatsoever? OVER HERE!

she who can barely stomach her coffee, cause it's full of butterflies? ME!

the one who can't even sit still for a whole 30 seconds? ME AGAIN!

it's hopeless. i just got distracted trying to reload my stapler.

in my absence, both physical and mental, bonnie will be guest posting. yours truly is going to be downing tequila in mexico in an attempt to self-medicate the missing mind. i promise bonnie won't let you down - she's much like the usual author on this site, only slightly drunker and with rowdier bedroom stories.

Excerpts From Emails Sent Today

2005-02-15T16:58:00.000-05:00

please pause whilst i vomit.

if you're nice to me, i'll let you make me breakfast.

you eat a lot of eggs. you're like a mongoose.

yes, i am stalking you.

that was probably a slip - cause you're a big WHORE!

of course i'm wearing underwear.

just think - you get to spend 5 whole days with ME!

you know, this whole calming down thing really wasn't working, anyway.

don't fret - obi wan luvs you.

be there or be made fun of.

oh man, i hope these is a bar close by.

you know, the boy i keep in the basement.

i'm sorry; you forgot to mention the hot black musician.

here's a photo of my imaginary boyfriend.

i wuz starin' at yo boo-tay cause it's my du-tay.

Found on the Metro, Unedited

2005-02-09T14:45:00.000-05:00

Discussion's/Confessions

Baby we need to have a talk please don't ask about what just sit down and liston, I'll tell you everything including the things you'd rather not hear, hold on wait before we go any ferther i am not exspecting, It's just that I think I'am involve with you It's been so long I'am sorry I never told you I didn't think you would care of even wanna hear I mean you Life is so busy you would never have time for Me, not even think you got a girl." If you ever thought about it, it's like you no but you dont care because you an't interested, I just thought you should no, but wait I'am finish that was the discussion "I still got a congession or should I say congession. I'am so confused cause I know you got a girl but I just keep comeing back to you I didn't Run, I caught the bus, sometimes I walked to get to you, any ways I got a little bit more to tell you, I cant do it I won't do it, you cheated I cheated we both cheated lets just leave it alone. You got a girl I got a man lets just keep what we got even though I want you bad and I don't got you and said to myself I'am gonna fight for you," Not phsically but emotional but fuck it ama" do us both a fava" and stop wasting my time. And I know no it's bad that we an't talk no more, but I love you enough to let you go!!! I'am going keep on walk'n I know I can do it, I am not going look back cause if I do I garentee ama wanna come back, just to let you no I'am not going come back so don't wait up for me cause I won't be back

Taps: A Novel

2005-02-07T11:01:00.000-05:00

i had been avoiding reading the end of Taps because i could see where it was going, and i didn't like it. i read the entire novel in less than a week, save the last 40 pages. those took me almost two weeks themselves. everytime i thought i could stand it, i'd start back up again, only to get two or three pages in before i had to stop.

he isn't supposed to lose the girl. this isn't how it happens.

last night i decided enough was enough, and i had to read on. i was doing the author - my favorite - a disservice by fighting against his vision. so, i read the last chapter.

and it was worse than i thought. in less than five minutes i was sobbing - sobbing - in the bathtub.

he loses the girl to the circumstances we've all experienced; he grew up.
i could've dealt with that alone.

but then his best friend is killed by a jealous husband.
i can't believe he stabbed luke. couldn't he fight back? oh, poor amanda.

the worst was the dog. dusty gets shot. murdered. by luke's mean-spirited, vengeful killer.
but dusty is his dog. he had nothing to do with luke. why does dusty have to die? oh this is awful.

i had to read that paragraph over and over again because i kept losing my place through blurry tears.

willie morris is an incredible author. through his beautiful, melodic southern prose, he brings people, places and scenes to life. he gives luster to and piques your interest in the ordinary. his writing paints vivid images in your imagination and you feel like you are the sixteen year old boy coming of age in mississippi years ago. he makes you love his characters, even though you have nothing in common with them.

and he does it all so well, so subtly that even you are surprised when you're crying in the bathtub, half because of how the book ends, and half just because it ended.

Well Slap My Ass and Call Me Betty

2005-02-04T13:13:00.000-05:00

if this doesn't steal your heart, then there's no hope for you:

EMERIL'S FRESH AND FIERCE MARGARITAS

Ingredients needed:

1 1/2 cups fresh lime juice
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons lime zest
2 tablespoons lemon zest
2 cups premium tequila
1 1/2 cups triple sec
Lime slices, for garnish
1/4 cup coarse salt

Combine the lime juice, lemon juice, water, sugar, lime zest, and lemon zest in a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, stirring, and cook until the sugar dissolves. Remove from the heat. Cool to room temperature.

Combine the cooled citrus syrup with the tequila and triple sec and chill thoroughly.

Meanwhile, chill margarita glasses and then wet the rim of each with a lime slice. Put the salt in a saucer and dip the rims into the salt.

Serve the chilled margarita mixture in salted glasses, over ice if desired, garnished with lime slices.

Makes 2 quarts, 8 to 10 servings

This is the kind of email that makes my day

2005-02-03T13:54:00.000-05:00

Today is special because... (drumroll please)

It's the 9th anniversary of my going ALL THE WAY and losing my virginity to the young, virile, oh-so-hott and what-a-great-lay Mr. King.

I'd like to thank Fawnzelle (Holy Jesus I can't remember her last name and she was one of my best friends at State U!) and her boyfriend Joey D. for getting me out to that party at The Spot.

I'd like to thank Nikki DiCarlo for tossing me that condom on my way out the door to the TKE house with Mr. King.

And I'd like to thank The King himself, for giving me the full introduction to his D. I truly, madly, deeply enjoyed myself. And I have ever since...

Friend of e2theLos

Ladder Theory

2005-02-01T16:54:00.000-05:00

(click me)

why ARE there so many single girls in their 30s these days, bridget?

2005-01-31T16:12:00.001-05:00

"fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. oh, and fuck you."

i was yelling. in the middle of an empty metro station.

i had just seen this.

make your friends live vicariously through you.

make them wish they were one of those girls, those girls who squeal with delight as they show off their engagement ring; only they're not gazing down at the ring anymore - they're looking at the single girls faces, hoping they are squirming with jealousy. "that's right. carlton picked it out all himself. i love him. he's perfect." you just love your three carat hunk of coal for which some poor boy from sierra leone lost an arm. hope you're happy, brianne.

make them wish they were one of those girls who suddenly points at things with her left hand, gets a manicure every four days to keep her hands just so, who waves at waiters from across the dining room just to see her diamond flicker and shine in the candlelight. "excuse me, more veuve clicquot." snap snap.

excuse me while i vomit all over your cushion cut, six-pronged platinum, self-validator.

whoever approved this ad campaign, (ahem ahem marketing director over at a diamond is forever dot com) is a misdirected tool. and, if i can ever figure out who it is, i'll be telling them just that.

Free Association

2005-01-28T09:57:00.000-05:00

all through the day, song lyrics have popped into my head in reference to actual, real life conversations.

"you really shouldn't be laid back in a meeting."
laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind

"come over here."
lover, you should've come over

"it's been a long day at work."
can you work it? lemme work it. i put my thing down flip it and reverse it.

"are you going out tonight?"
everybody wang chung tonight

"..they come into the lobby, and you'll then escort them onto the elevator and to the 10th floor..."
love in an elevator, lovin' it up while i'm going down

"they're in the back of the office, playing that game where they throw a ball into a box."
i wish i were a little bit taller, i wish i were a baller, i wish i had a girl who looked good - i would call her

"i talked to my dad last night."
i love it when you call me big poppa

"no, i'll miss the party tomorrow as i have to go to santa barbara for work."
goin' back to cali...cali...cali...

"shouldn't you be on a train by now?"
come on ride a train, and ride it

"i am! technology!"
i love technology, but not as much as you, you see...but i STILL love technology...always and forever.

does this stuff happen in other people's heads?!

Hit Me with Your Best Shot

2005-01-27T13:42:00.000-05:00

i have been slammed lately! slammed with work or bad moods, i couldn't think of anything good to write here.

but now, ladies and gentleman, i have something ~~good~~ GREAT! to share.

drum roll please...

after months of longing and remembering and wishing it were true (sniff sniff), I AM GOING BACK TO MEXICO CITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Life kicks ass, eh?

Nothing But the Best

2005-01-19T11:27:00.000-05:00

catherine, i think they are on tv, i said.

"no, no, just perry. not my husband. he's been drinking."

"oh, i'm pretty sure i see steve's red Texas shirt. how could i miss it?!"

"oh. my. god. that IS steve. shit!" catherine actually said shit, and she ran over to the crowd of tv cameras, overhead mics and onlookers that were surrounding perry & steve.

"...oh, i'd say the pat downs are the airport were better than here. mostly cause they wear more form-fitting uniforms." steve was being interviewed by mo rocca for the tonight show!!

a few seconds later i hear mo ask something about the Presidential balls, meaning inaugural, but perry responded with, "well, i guess he's only got two..." and steve followed up with, "and you've got them right in your hands..."

you can tune in for their television debut thursday or friday night.

other honorable mentions for the night include: genevieve's flashing bob schneider - TWICE!, bonnie's dancing against the stage so much that she bruised her knees, d's wearing a shiner bock label on his forehead, jessica's serious booty shakin', and catherine's delivery of plate after plate of jalapeno poppers and vodka tonics, her "official inaugural beverage."

i don't why anyone would bother being friends with people other than my friends.

they are just so fucking awesome.

In a House in France All Covered with Vines Lived One Little Girl...With 2 Handles of Tequila

2005-01-13T13:22:00.000-05:00

while in mexico city this past august i was fortunate enough to meet rodolfo, otherwise known as ofo, who is a good friend of one of my good friends here in dc. i had never laid eyes on him until we rolled into a bar in polanco where he was already a few drinks in with his friends.

needless to say, it was an amazing night, and one of my best memories of mexico. it was fascinating to spend time with people who are like you while on vacation. these are young professionals who work and talk about love and movies and vacations - they just do it all in spanish. and in better jeans.

ofo was a wonderful host and despite his incessant recitation of "help me obi wan kenobi; you're my only hope," we have remained friends, mostly via email. yesterday i got this from him, and it just about knocked my socks off.

"you strike me as a "Chic" that appreciates culture, surely very serious but is not afraid to throw down. I think your name suits you perfectly, all neat and tidy. I would even say that if you wouldn't have been born you would be the main character of a children's book, maybe Madeleine's hard-core party half sister or something."

i'm pretty sure we're going to get married.

Sugar and Spice and...

2005-01-11T15:02:00.000-05:00

yesterday i received an email inviting me to join a recipe tree. according to the email, i was to send one recipe to one person, move some names around, send the invitation to ten people and VIOLA! i would receive 36 recipes.

sounds great, right?

so far, all i've gotten is this:

Skanky Biotch

Take one Big Lady and one John "I make the goofiest jokes on the planet" Carlos and mix. Bake in oven for nine months. Remove from oven sprinkle with charm, charisma and the ability to wear the same t-shirt for four days straight. Add obsession with hott men, a touch of booty-shakin' and a dash of "not proud."

26 years later you will have One Skanky Biotch.

Conversations with Los

2005-01-10T11:15:00.000-05:00

[jason:] "oh that girl, she's a fag hag."

[los:] "am i a fag hag?"

[jason:] "no, you're a fruit fly."

[los:] "what's the difference?"

[jason:] "well, a fag hag basically devotes herself to gay men. she gives up her sexuality. a fruit fly, on the other hand, hangs out with her gay friends and has a great time, but still wants to get laid."

[los, after thoughtful contemplation:] "oh yeah. that's me."

ATTA GIRL!

2005-01-07T14:26:00.000-05:00

i am pleased to report that bonnie is no longer smoking. done. finito. cold turkey.

no mas ehsmoking.

and, like a bad ass, she is totally succeeding. it's been one week today, and girlfriend hasn't even had one single puff. although last night she was grabbing unlit cigarettes and smelling them in a fevered, molly shannon kind of way.

"molly shannon is funny and all, but you don't want to fuck her..."

well, she is my SUPERSTAR!

but p.s. - if she does fall off, internet, y'all are going to get one helluva photo!

Grandad

2005-01-06T14:55:00.000-05:00

i'm not sure if it's worse that i am crying at my desk, or that i am crying at my desk and no one has noticed. am i usually this pink & puffy?

my grandad died yesterday. or maybe tuesday night. i guess; we don't really know, since he died in his sleep. and that's the best way to go. i guess; we don't really know. he had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure a long while back, but he was doing perfectly fine for a long time. and then he needed oxygen, but just a little tank and it came with the push-scooter-thing and it actually wasn't intrusive at all. he could leave it behind if we needed to go to dinner or something like that, and he was the same ole grandad, the one who never stopped talking about football or the war or how much he loves Bush.

so when i came home for christmas, i asked when the grandparents were coming over for christmas eve church. "they're not," i was told. okay, no big deal...so when are they coming over tomorrow for christmas day? "they're not," i was told again. "grandad isn't doing too well."

but even then i wasn't prepared for what i saw christmas day. grandad was really thin. he was on more oxygen, and leaving it behind wasn't an option now. his hair was much longer, since he hadn't been able to leave the house to cut it, and his Roll Tide cap sat awkwardly on his head. he didn't have the energy to open his presents, but he got excited about everyone of them. he just sat in his chair and told us each how much he loved us, and how we'd never really know, while his eyes filled with tears.

"you know, if i had a son, that son would be john carlos. he is the best dad ever, and i love him." and i looked at my dad and he had tears in his eyes, too.

then grandad turned to me and told me how to buy a car. yes, how to buy a car. see, grandad had been a car salesman, and he explained to me how to find the best value for your money, buying new or used. it was as if he wanted to give me this one last life lesson, just in case he never had the chance again. it was ridiculously amusing and sad, at the same time. bittersweet.

my grandad was always supportive, always easygoing, always happy to see us, always good for a long (and i mean long) talk. he could talk about anything and he loved to tell stories. particularly war stories. he has scrapbooks of photographs and letters and travel journals, documenting all his years in the navy. he told stories of how he was the youngest man on the ship so the other guys used to make him do all kinds of harebrained pranks, like the time they lowered him by a rope around the waist into the gully of the ship to steal some booze and food.

but the best story he ever told me, the one i had him retell on christmas day, happened towards the end of the war. he never knew it's significance, however, until many years later. at my parents rehearsal dinner grandad and pawpaw, my father's father, were talking about the war and sharing memories of where they had been and when. grandad asked pawpaw if he had ever been in the philippines.

"why yes, as a matter of fact." replied pawpaw. and he explained which island he was on.

"where you there in 1943?" asked grandad.

"yes, yes i was." pawpaw was astonished.

pawpaw's unit had been under heavy attack and a rescue naval unit had been sent in to get them out. as it turns out, it was grandad's unit that had been sent in to rescue pawpaw's unit. they had been on the same ship at the same time in the middle of the world's craziest war.

my step-mother's father had saved my father's father's life.

and they didn't know it until almost 50 years later.

i've always been grateful for that. my life, and those of my whole family, might have been very different had that coincidence never taken place. but i never told grandad thank you. it seemed too sappy, to overly sentimental (even for me) to say thank you. so i'll say it now.

thank you, grandad. i love you.

Keeping Score

2004-12-22T11:31:00.000-05:00

Butterflies - 2. Me - 0.

i think i'm screwed.

Conversations with Los

2004-12-17T16:14:00.000-05:00

[los:] eeek!

[whole foods check out girl:] what?

[los:] i am buying this christmas tree...for a jew.

[guy in line in front of me:] i think you should reconsider.

Fairy Tale

2004-12-15T15:52:00.000-05:00

once upon a time it was good.

once upon a time it was nice. and safe.

once upon a time it was warm socks and oversized sweats. it was poetry in bed and nights spent on the roof. it was bourbon in the bath and arguments over proper crossword penmanship. it was sly glances over a pool table and looks that no one else saw. it was ripped clothing and tiaras and deadbolt necklaces. it was clem snide softly and counting crows loudly. it was talks over vodka tonics while our knees touched under the table.

once upon a time it was reading aloud to one another on a car ride in the snow. it was a phone call from you as you cried alone in your bath tub. it was snowball fights in the streets and late-night texts. it was movies with my head in your lap. it was nights under hand-made quilts. it was back flips off your couch and rainy nights at wolf trap. it was whispered words and dreams spent underneath you.

once upon a time i saw a side of you that i thought no one else saw.

but now i'm seeing a side that everyone sees.

and my push has come to shove.

B to the Third Power

2004-12-14T13:25:00.000-05:00

yesterday was Bonnie Bacon's Birthday and we celebrated hard core. the night started off calmly enough, though. here are exhibits a & b that we were, at one point, well-behaved.

we went to helix for dinner & drinks and were joined by lots of friends. if anyone can bring out the people, it's bonnie. it seemed that every single person who came in was there for her party! consequently, there were toasts and birthday cards and the telling of bonnie stories. helix was even kind enough to create a bees-tini in honor of the occasion!

our waitress, who i must say did an excellent job of handling all of us, was also named bonnie!

very quickly, and it always goes this way, the night just got rowdy. by 8 or so we had most of the bar to ourselves, and we were all having a blast.

but especially bonnie.

and then POOF! we had a drink fairy. some creepy guy in the corner kept sending us drinks and, even though he bugged us out, we flirted shamelessly to turn that one drink into six. and then there were birthday shots. (author's note - thank you to whomever sent us those shots; we still don't know. i don't do shots unless in mexico, and i firmly believe that alcohol and milk products just don't mix. as a result, there was at least one shot that was left on the table. but it was appreciated.)

finally, bonnie had had enough and she got up to dance. and by dance, i mean she made us all laugh so hard we thought it was our birthday! see for yourselves.

of course, she was ultimately rewarded with a cherry.

it was a great night and i am just too sleepy to write any more.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEES!!! i hope you had a great night.

I'm Tellin You

2004-12-10T14:06:00.000-05:00

if it's not one tall, skinny black man it's another.

sKiLLz

2004-12-10T11:34:00.000-05:00

my breakfast today consisted of oatmeal with raisins. usually DUH produces the thickest, most viscous oatmeal you've ever seen, let alone eaten, but today it was much thinner. runny, even. somehow, i managed to keep myself completely clean. and, i was eating it with a plastic fork.

self-contained banana with a piece of dry toast, and i look like i need a bib & a highchair. but gimme some runny oatmeal eaten with a fork - i'm golden.

just me then? go figure.

Wondering If I've Crossed Some Line...

2004-12-08T11:45:00.000-05:00

i just signed an email to my father "word, the future mrs. mos def"

Confidential to the Butterflies in my Stomach

2004-12-06T15:19:00.000-05:00

do ya think you can tone it down a bit? you're way fun and all, but you woke me up before my alarm this morning and you just made lunch a little difficult. despite the swagger you've put in my step today, we don't want to get ahead of ourselves, now do we?

sure, it's been a while since we've been excited about someone. he's a clear departure from the boring and predictable possibilities we usually encounter; i can see why you're excited. twice now our surroundings have melted away as we engaged in conversation, rapt words and locked gazes. and the casual brushes against his arm, his funny jokes, and the way he smelled as i leaned in to hear his whispers certainly heightened your tizzy.

but now we've got to get back to business. it's monday and all i've done all day is read and write and day dream. it's got to stop. well, maybe not totally stop. that'd take all the fun out of it. and i'm excited about just being excited again.

Just a Chip Off the Ole Block

2004-12-03T16:55:00.000-05:00

"emmy!!! email me back!!!!!!!!

dont be hatin just b/c i'm black.

peace, margaret"

Change

2004-12-02T17:07:00.000-05:00

well, here's one, at least. still working out a few kinks, so please pardon my mess.

Memo

2004-12-02T13:58:00.000-05:00

To: E. Carlos

From: B. Bacon

RE: The Weave's ghetto quotient.

Please be advised that due to the aesthetic condition of The Weave's car, her ghetto quotient has become unacceptably high.

We convened a meeting on the subject and determined that the remedy is for you to make one of your cute signs that says the statement below. This sign will be posted on three sides of The Weave's car for the next two weeks.

"Please don't think I'm ghetto. My car got hit yesterday and I'm getting it fixed tomorrow. Thank you. If you don't believe me, ask Pharell. We are engaged. The Weave"

May I suggest decorating the signs with some bling to make them more
authentic?

You have your assignment. This message will explode in three minutes.

ARGH

2004-12-01T16:32:00.000-05:00

i've been without email or internet for the past week, and it just about killed me.

welcome back.

alone in my old, creaking, thunking, enormous house i became a little crazy. and a little confident. maybe a change is needed.

i need...something.

maybe i'll call him. maybe i'll quit. maybe i'll move. maybe i'll chop it all off.

good Lord. do something.

Good Morning

2004-11-24T17:42:00.000-05:00

if you're up & would like a good laugh tomorrow morning, i'll be on good morning america!

they are shooting their national weather broadcast live from dc central kitchen all morning, and i'll be there, bright & early.

gobble gobble. wishing you all a happy thanksgiving.

Whoa Nelly

2004-11-23T15:24:00.000-05:00

my mormon boss just asked me, "hey - you wanna see some wood on a desk?" and it gave me pause.

of course, he meant that my coworker's desk was now so clean you can see the surface, but still...

Being Shy is a Waste of Time

2004-11-22T15:18:00.000-05:00

"emily made us laugh so hard we almost peed our pants..."

last wednesday was fray day 8. dc's event was held at love cafe, proprieted by the charming, handsome, and, evidently exhausted, warren brown. i found out about fray day by reading tequila mockingbird's (above linked) blog and when i realized she was a featured speaker i marked fray day on my calendar in bright, pink ink.

a chance to see tequila mockingbird? in person? and hear a story? in person? and eat cake? hot damn. it doesn't get much better than that.

i arrived early and got seats for me & kristin, who was kind enough to come with me, and even offer me dinner afterwards! we sat and listened and laughed and contemplated and applauded as all of the featured and scheduled speakers took their turns at the microphone. there were stories about parents and computers, crazy men burying their cremated wives, finding love where you least expect it, delayed puberties, adolescent summer camp pranks and not having a boyfriend to take home to your ever-persistent and anxious family. (ahem ahem.)

once all the scheduled speakers had a go, the mic was opened up to anyone else with a story. the only guidelines were that it had to be true and it had to be personal.

and that's when it happened.

before i knew what was going on, i stood up.

"i'll tell a story."

[holy fuck, was that me?!]

"hi, i'm emily."

[what are you DOING? you're petrified of public speaking! you hands were all sweaty just moments ago in sympathy for that other person. sit down!]

"i figured i should step here so i could face my greatest fear...that, and i don't know anyone here..."

and they laughed. all of them.

[okay, maybe you can do this, you badass.]

i went on to tell a funny experience i had at best cellars. into a microphone. (did i mention there was microphone?) and the audience, they kept laughing, and at all the right moments. when i finished, they applauded. for the entire time it took me to get back to my seat.

wow. sometimes i suprise myself.

And It Don't Stop

2004-11-19T11:36:00.000-05:00

last night bonnie & i saw talib kweli at the 9:30 club and it rocked!!! well, it hipped and hopped, rather.

last time i tried to see him i went with these two adorable wankers who can charm the panties right off barbara bush, but they made me really, really late and i missed practically the whole show. so this time around i knew better. i went with bonnie. she was there on time, looking cute, and she made friends with the bartender. (which is probably why she ended up with 'i heart black cock' written on her arm and 'leroy' on her knuckles.)

last night we were "those people." no, not that kind. the kind of people who get the most amazing spot for a show without. even. trying. (see diagram a.)

diagram a

i could see! everything! it couldn't have been better. talib had great energy, dj chapps spun wickedly, the sound was perfect. and the people around us even afforded my bedonkadonk a good three foot radius in which to bounce.

word.

Arf I Did It Again

2004-11-18T15:25:00.000-05:00

right before halloween i had the pleasure of serving as celebrity judge in a dog halloween costume contest. and let me tell you, it was a riot. there were 53 dogs in costume. fiftythree. here's some evidence:

the sailor

the biker

monster and tinkerbell

the bride

the elvis (i think he is, in fact, a hound dog)

britney!

the scarecrow, our favorite costume

celebrity judge and her handsome, handsome dog in his *new* sweater!

Lingering

2004-11-16T14:58:00.000-05:00

saturday i was sitting in a movie, totally paying attention, when a sentence, out of nowhere, hit me.

"i have just a little bit of cancer." and the image of my father holding up his index finger & thumb to indicate that "little bit" was just as vivid as the moment he said it. immediately, i felt exactly as i had four years ago - my knees went weak, and i felt the cush of the bed underneath me as the tears steamed on my cheeks.

this memory, strangely, made me think. it's amazing how a memory can come flooding back, the feelings can be just as real, and a phrase can echo in your head.

"i can't be your boyfriend anymore." a year and a half ago, that crushed me. i thought that my life was derailing right before me, and i was totally powerless to stop it. nothing i could think to say or do, no position i could take, no reaction i had would get it back on track. i was sad. i was angry. i was hopeful. i was powerful. "well then what the fuck are you still standing in my living room for? get out. now." and i pushed him out the door as he cried.

"i have the most handsome little dog for you," she said over the phone on christmas day. dog?! i don't want a dog. and particularly not a little one. a scrap. a yapper. can he fetch? can i wrestle with him? can he be my pillow as we lay on the floor in front of a fire? little did i know, that sentence would change my life. and in so many ways for the better. leroy can't do any of those things, but he can do many, many, many things i never thought he could.

"i'm going to spend the night at david pritchard's house. and you can't come." a wave of frustration and hurt swept over me and i laid down on the living room carpet and cried. i think there was even some kicking and screaming. i knew my dad wasn't just going for a night. i was five, and i knew. and i knew i couldn't come because he wasn't coming back.

"i love you." whispered. drunk. through tears. some sort of self-destruction was happening right before me, and i couldn't stop it. i couldn't even understand it. but right then, our...whatever took an irreparable turn for the worst. and it never recovered, even when it seemed fantastic. i tried to pretend, for days, that i hadn't heard it. but i had. and that was the beginning of the end, because he didn't mean it, at least not the way he should, and there is no recovering when those words are misused.

"pardon me, do you have a minute?" flirtatious. hopeful. confident. mysterious. this guy - this beautiful, jovial, interesting guy wanted to talk to me. me. and with that, a friendship was formed that has provided both of us an outlet, a fantasy, a boost when things seem less than perfect.

"i'm engaged." i knew it. i knew it was coming, and i knew by the tone of his voice on my message last night that this is what he had to tell me. i didn't call back. and then he emailed; he needed to talk to me. rather than having to face what i already knew over the phone, when my reaction couldn't be hidden, i forced a hint over email. break the ice. prepare myself. but there it was.

and in my mind they still are.

Crappity Crap Crap

2004-11-05T14:26:00.000-05:00

it's amazing to me that people cannot recognize crap. i just went to the office printer and there was a pile of screwy, incoherent garbage printed on a stack of papers that someone had just left sitting there. no one needs this. no one is going to use this. this is obviously crap - throw it away! or better yet, recycle it, so we have less crap. and do it for yourself. i am not your crapmaster.

but it's not just this. there's crap everywhere and people buy into it, even encourage it. like shopping at ann taylor loft or eating spam or voting for people like tom coburn. CRAP! recognize crap for crap and say, "I DO NOT LIKE CRAP! IN FACT, I ABHOR CRAP!" and just be done with it. definitely don't be a crapmaster.

on a totally crap-opposite note, i have a really addictive personally when it comes to things i love. if i love something, i just want more & more & more of it. (note to self, boys: i'm a great girlfriend, *wink wink.*) i have been reminded of this characteristic lately, ever since my roommate gave me a feather bed/down comforter combo and introduced york peppermint patties into the household in a 24-hour time span. every day since, i have looked forward to nibbling on a peppermint patty in bed later that night. i'm a fiend. (note to self #2, boys: you're easily replaced by a candy and an episode of Cheers.)

and more on crap: i really want to beef up e2theLos. this is something i really enjoy and i would love to spend more time on it, if i didn't have to create everything at my crappy work computer under crappy fluorescent light. the more i visit other blogs, the more i am aware that this site is just not where i want it. i say it hovers right around crap plus four. i want better graphics and a cooler lay-out and neater fonts and more photos. so, for christmas i want a nikon d70, a mac super-duper laptop and an i-pod. for creative inspiration, of course.

but you what santa will say? "THAT'S CRAP!"

2004-11-04T14:50:00.000-05:00

If This Doesn't Totally Boost a Girl's Self-Esteem Then I Just Don't Know What Will

"I was also distracted by your breasts which looked quite bangin' in the Selena outfit. Please let them out more often." - Really Hot Guy

2004-11-03T13:20:00.000-05:00

Don't Call It A Come Back

last night i did something that i hadn't done in a long time. something i really enjoy. something that starts in public but ends up the privacy of your own home, using all sorts of fun toys and different viscous substances. and once you're done, you fell totally spent & satisfied.

that's right, i cooked.

here's a little known fact about me, internet: i love chicken pot pies. i crave them. i think they are the worlds best comfort food, and any time there is a even a hint of cooler weather or a little sadness or a slight cough, i want to be all over a chicken pot pie. problem is, they're not the healthiest thing to eat, so my heart goes through a little tug of war.

[frivolous los:] just eat it. you're sick. eh eh

[cautious los:] oh why don't you just take it & stick it right on your ASS, cuz that's where it's going! you whore.

you get an idea of the dilemma.

so last night i was tickled pink to find a recipe for chicken pot pie soup! yes! an alternative to the pie that i easily made much healthier than the crusty version, but ever so satisfying.

i'm telling you, she may be in the pen, but martha's spirit lives on at 1522. except that i used canned soup, and she would have milked the cow. but that's not the point. the point is my victory, neither small nor lame.

2004-11-03T13:12:00.000-05:00

Totally Enjoying

"i take my victories like my hookers, small & lame."

2004-10-29T14:34:00.000-05:00

October

at the beginning of october i predicted that it would be a good month for me, since it got off to such an auspicious start and all. it did not let me down. here is a recap of october, in all it's glory. (categorized, of course.)

things that made me happy:
- spending 2 great nights with all my college roommates
- wandering in central market, aisle by aisle
- discovering that candle-lit showers can be even better if you're alone
- rediscovering my bat socks..3 bats AH AH AH
- falling even harder for mos def due to track 11, the new danger
- my date with aykut

things that made me cry those bittersweet, happy tears:
- driving through south texas after a great weekend home
- sitting at dinner with my father, having an adult conversation, and realizing this was the first time we had been alone in years
- leroy all snuggled up under the electric blanket
- jamie cullum's version of jeff buckley's 'lover, you should have come over'

things that made me proud:
- watching anne walk down the aisle
- cleaning out my closet & finally getting my wardrobe in order
- working out again
- ever-politely helping the strange man in the wine store whom at first i thought was just weird, then i thought was on drugs, but finally figured out he was mentally challenged
- capitol bite night with dc central kitchen

things that should have made me not-proud, but didn't:
- eating a complete five guys burger...with fries & a root beer
- flirting my way to illegally duplicating copyrighted material
- saying fuck in front of a 2 year old
- flirting with the south african minister at anne's wedding
- actually pausing to consider having sex in the bathroom with that hot, hot black doctor

and you know what else? i have the best two days ahead of me yet.
november, i'm ready for ya.

2004-10-28T09:00:00.000-05:00

This Is How I Sometimes Start My Days

i stand on my front porch & yell, "HELLO WORLD, ARE YOU READY FOR ME?!"

today is a great day.

2004-10-26T15:33:00.000-05:00

Tool

baby needs some prilosec otc

2004-10-22T15:46:00.000-05:00

John Carlos

until last monday, my father didn't use a computer. had no knowledge of them whatsoever. he had never emailed. he didn't know what an attachment was. he called the mouse "that arrow thing." his favorite jokes (at which he, and only he, laughed) were, "i can't even spell email." and "yeah, that internet. i really think it's gonna catch on."

but last monday started his 55th year and new era in the life of John Carlos, as he was mercilessly thrust into technology. and i am tickled pink. here are the first emails i have received from my dad, unedited.

1. Emmo-sorry about the delay. I'm a very busy and important man. El jeffe.
2. Bill gates has nothing on me. I'm turning into computer nerd .
3. Dude! Can you say gooooooooooooooooooogle?
4. I'm leaving early. Gotta pimp my ride. It's the weekend!

that's my father, internet, 'pimping his ride'for all the 'computer nerds' to see. 'dude.'

2004-10-22T12:27:00.000-05:00

From Blurbomat

No on 3

It's pretty clear that most people in the United States are uncomfortable with gay marriage. I have no idea why, other than ignorance and fear. I've not heard one valid reason why consenting adults shouldn't be allowed to marry.

This year, the religious are going crazy, crazy, crazy with legislation to keep marriage "as we've always known it." An amendment to the State Constitution is being proposed. If the initiative passes, it will be overturned, but nevertheless, the conservatives feel their marriages are threatened.

Even crazier, the Mormons are all about limiting the marital rights of others, even though at one time, certain states passed an extermination order to kill Mormons precisely because of their marital doctrines, amongst other things.

It is the opinion of Blurbomat that consenting adults should be allowed to enter marriage. Gay or plural, marriage is the right of the citizenry. Not "civil unions" or any other such thing. Marriage. Despite common sitcom plot structure and media stereotyping, marriage falls under the "... and pursuit of happiness" part of what is left of the Constitution. If one brings God up into the discussion, it doesn't make the argument against gay marriage stronger, because God's will is subject to wide debate and not known for certain. Blurbomat doesn't need the state to "protect" my marriage. That's between me and my spouse to figure out, not the government. Or your God.

Open, tolerant cultures do better than closed, scared ones.

Sadly, it is in such times that great opportunity to lead and rise is lost. Those that preach intolerance and forgiveness and faith miss a wonderful opportunity to include others when they marginalize those who believe differently. It doesn't take more than 30 seconds into the debate over marriage rights to see that it's about God. If you believe in God, why don't you want your brothers and sisters to be happy? If they want to marry, to show their love, why would you deny them this? Because of stories from an old book, which may or may not be true, despite what you might think? We don't live in ancient times. We live today.

These are dangerous times, but Blurbomat believes that it's time to stand up and say let go of fear. Time to stand up and say that people deserve to be happy. People deserve to not live in the margins. People deserve to be accepted into the mainstream. Except for the indie fundamentalists who are always hipper than the rest of us and living in the mainstream is totally selling out.

In our lifetime, people have died for freedom, whether we want to see it as such or not. When people died in New York, in Washington and Pennsylvania, they died because they live in a free country. They died not to celebrate fundamentalism. Not to celebrate religious intolerance or partisanship. They were taken prematurely from this life because of freedom. Freedom to not believe in one God but many. Freedom to not even believe in God. Freedom to say that our elected leaders are morons. Freedom to say that the system is flawed. Freedom to go to any church they wanted or none at all. Are their lives for naught?

We should imagine a future that is full of hope not fear. And to make that future happen. With our vote. I'm voting against Proposition 3 in Utah. Gay marriage should be allowed in this country.

2004-10-20T14:50:00.000-05:00

The Unfriendly Skies

last friday i flew to texas. it was (almost)a total disaster.

7:35am bees & i leave the house, luggage in tow.
7:40am arrive caribou coffee, get bees a mocha.
...stuck in traffic...stuck in traffic...stuck in traffic...
7:58am finally arrive reagan national airport. i am already checked in, via the internet, and have decided to carry on my luggage because God forbid if something happened and it got lost i would be totally screwed for the entire weekend.
8:01am realize that i am at the back of the longest line of tired-not-yet-had-my-coffee-slugs creeping forward to the security check point.
8:05am still inching forward
8:08am still inching forward
8:12am FUCK! i realize that i have tweezers in my suitcase. and not just any ole tweezers, but super-duper sharp tweezers that could definitely be used to take over the cockpit and create a national disaster.
8:12am i jump out of line and race back up to the continental desk to check my bag.
8:13am the machine won't let me check the bag and indicates that i need to "seek assistance from a continental representative."
8:13am i look around for said representative. i notice that there is NO ONE else in line and that there are 4 representatives standing around chatting.
8:14am [los:] "pardon me, i hate to interrupt you, but i had to jump out of line downstairs when i realized i'd never make it through security with tweezers in my bag. so now i need to check it, but the machine says i need you. can you please help me? my flight leaves in 15 minutes."
8:14am [Geneva l.:] "of course! anwar, can you check this bag?"
8:15am [f. anwar:] "of course! let me see your boarding pass."
8:15am i give her my boarding pass. she types something in. frowns. [f. anwar:] "oh no. we cannot check your bag. it is less than 30 minutes to your departure time."
8:15am [los:] "is that some sort of new policy? i have never heard of that before."
8:15am [f. anwar:] "yes. well, hmmm...we have an 11:30 flight you could take. how's that?"
8:15am [geneva l.] "it's just a flight to houston, right?"
8:15am scowl at geneva l. [los:] "11:30? i'm here now. and i have to get to houston. okay, how about you check my bag on that flight and i catch this one?"
8:16am [f. anwar:] "no, no definitely not. you cannot fly separate from your bags. no."
8:16am starting to get pissed. [los:] "oh, i see. but if you lose my bag then you're perfectly happy to send it separate from me. of course."
8:16am [f. anwar:] "that is completely different."
8:16am [geneva l.:] "yeah, that is completely different."
8:16am [los:] "so let me get this straight - you won't check my bag on this flight, and you won't check it on the next flight either. so, can i fed ex the tweezers to myself or something? they are very expensive and i would rather not just throw them away."
8:17am [f. anwar:] "no, no, no. but they might not take them away. you never know."
8:17am [los:] "okay. thanks."
8:17am i make my way back downstairs, only to realize that the line of slugs has practically doubled and i have less than 15 minutes to make my flight. i very politely approach the lady with 4-inch finger nails who is attempting to herd the slugs into distinct lines and say, [los:] "pardon me, but my flight leaves in less than 15 minutes. see? here's my boarding pass. i know we can usually move ahead to the front of the line if we're going to miss our flight, so, may i?"
8:18am [totally incompetent TSA lady with 4-inch nails:] "aw no, uh-uh baby. you cain't do that 'less one of them gate reps vouches for you."
8:18am [los:] "what?! you're kidding me! one of them has to walk me down here?!"
8:18am [totally incompetent TSA lady with 4-inch nails:] "uh-huh."
8:18am sigh. i run back upstairs to find that there is still no one else at the continental ticket counter and the same four gate reps, including f. anwar & geneva l., are still standing around talking, only this time geneva l. is looking at wrapping paper.
8:19am [geneva l.:] "yeah, let me see taylor's school book. i'll buy some wrapping paper."
8:19am [los:] "i'm sorry to bother y'all again, but it seems that i can't bypass the line for the security check point unless one of y'all goes down with me - i know, it's silly. i even showed them by boarding pass to prove my flight time, but they still insist that one of y'all has to escort me. so, would you mind?" *smile*
8:20am [geneva l.:] taking a momentary break from her engrossing book of wrapping paper samples, "no."
8:20am [los:] "excuse me?!"
8:20am [f. anwar:] "we don't do that."
8:20am [los:] making a point to look around and notice that NO ONE else is there needing assistance, "oh i see. you don't ACTUALLY assist your customers, but you DO stand around and talk for 10 minutes! i just need your help for a minute; i am going to miss my flight."
8:21am [f. anwar:] "ma'am, we don't do that."
8:21am LIVID. "so, you won't check my bag for this flight, you won't check it on the next flight, AND FINALLY you won't help me carry on this bag?! y'all are doing a great job!"
8:21am [f. anwar:] "if we do it for you, we have to do it for everyone."
8:21am [los:] "you mean do your job. HA!"
8:22am [f. anwar:] "all i can do is check you on to the next flight at 11:30."
8:22am [geneva l.:] the same fucker who piped up earlier with 'you're just going to houston, right?' says, "it's just 3 hours."
8:22am i was about to climb over the ticket counter and beat her over the head with the wrapping paper sample book, i was so angry. [los:] "just 3 hours?! who ARE you?! fine, f. anwar, check me through on the next flight."
8:23am [f. anwar:] "give me your boarding pass." so i slam the boarding pass down on the counter, and f. anwar has the audacity to THROW IT BACK AT ME. she. threw. it. "you know, i don't have to check you through to houston...", she threatened.
8:23am i wanted to say 'well apparently you don't have to do a damn bit of work, so maybe you DON'T have to check me through! who knows?' but then i remembered that seinfeld episode where the skycap purposely checks his bag to honolulu, so all i said, very calmly, very seriously, was [los:] "yes, you do."

motherfucking continental.

2004-10-13T15:53:00.000-05:00

Things My Roommates Have Said to Me in the Past 24 Hours

[los:] man, those beastie boys are old, but ad rock is hot!
[weave:] sigh. i've always been a mike-d girl.

*****

[bees:] yeah, i'm pretty sure i'm going straight to hell.
[los:] but you'll be in great company!
[bees:] yeah - me and SteveSchulte will sit in lawn chairs drinking acid on the
banks of the firey river making fun of all the other denziens of hell.

*****

[los:] jess your ass is a toy!
[jess:] yes, but not for you.

*****

[bees:] man, i live with some funny bitches!
[los:] and there dads! well, no, don't live with my dad...
[weave:] but you're dad's hot! no wait - he sounds hot!! that's it! he sounds hot!!

*****

[weave:] i thought tupac was the shit even when he was alive.

*****

[bees:] go find my halo, biatch. It's the one with the built-in cigarette lighter.

2004-10-12T12:20:00.000-05:00

Buggin'

here at e2theLos there's little we enjoy more than making fun of public figures. from celebrities to politicians to sports figures, we think there are a lot of silly, asinine people in the world - so why not call them out?!

yes, internet, we bring to you the *newest* feature on e2theLos: TOOL.

periodically you'll find an update on who we think is a big, ole tool - sometimes with an explanation. (although, if you're cool at all, you'll know why. and agree!) and if you think there's a big tool we should highlight, you can send your suggestions to why you gotta at hotmail dot com. we're an equal opportunity snark.

TOOL