I don't get how sometimes I go to put on my shoes and shoes that were missing yesterday are now sitting nicely in a pair and the shoes I want to wear are just gone. I determine, then, that little people come into my room and switch them around just to mess with me. Then they sit back and Laugh ... and Laugh. But since there is at least 50% of me that believes that it IS possible that little people are coming into my room and messing with my shoes (and other miscellaneous objects) I'll sometimes slip this into conversation.
"Damnit! Little gnomes are running rampant in my room again."
Most often the conversation receiver will just continue as if I've said nothing because it's just one of those odd things that Erin sometimes says.
Erin gets ideas and things (not usually sharp things) stuck in her head. Sometimes she gets obsessed. Sometimes she just repeats the same thing over and over again. Sometimes she just repeats the same things over and over again.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Current Fixation - PodCasts
Podcasts and videoblogs! They make me hate people and love them at the same time. I was all a-wonder about these mysterious things but then I got me a Video iPod for Christmas. I couldn't quite justify wanting an iPod since well... I already had an MP3 player but when those video gods put forth the miniature pod-o-video... I COULD JUSTIFY THAT.
AND I got one for Christmas!
So the current fixation, beyond just sorting all of my 1000 songs plus into fun playlists like "BlueBlack" (for when I feel like mass murdering while wearing leather and vampire fangs) and "Sex Music" (typically a soulful, bluesy mix of deep throated women), is looking for and subscribing to Video Podcasts. (And audio podcasts too but... videos are of course the key.)
My favorite, for the moment, is one called the "Four Eyed Monsters" who are a young couple videoblogging about their efforts to get their indie movie to the big screen. I have zero interest right now in their movie but their video podcasts are incredibly interesting. PERFECT for short attention spans like mine.
This is also inspiring me to think of what I could possibly do in this realm. Well I have some old radio shows of mine that I could digitize and release as podcasts... but the newsy news on them is old. Mostly I'm considering a project my friend Amy wants to do - a documentary of the two of us doing things that we wanted to do before we turned 30. What if we did it as an episodic videocast? That could be coo!
Anyway... the only thing annoying about the video podcasts is the stupid iTunes program that must download once you click on something... WHICH means that after perusing through 20 pages of podcast directory... I then lose my spot and have to start over. STUPID!
AND I got one for Christmas!
So the current fixation, beyond just sorting all of my 1000 songs plus into fun playlists like "BlueBlack" (for when I feel like mass murdering while wearing leather and vampire fangs) and "Sex Music" (typically a soulful, bluesy mix of deep throated women), is looking for and subscribing to Video Podcasts. (And audio podcasts too but... videos are of course the key.)
My favorite, for the moment, is one called the "Four Eyed Monsters" who are a young couple videoblogging about their efforts to get their indie movie to the big screen. I have zero interest right now in their movie but their video podcasts are incredibly interesting. PERFECT for short attention spans like mine.
This is also inspiring me to think of what I could possibly do in this realm. Well I have some old radio shows of mine that I could digitize and release as podcasts... but the newsy news on them is old. Mostly I'm considering a project my friend Amy wants to do - a documentary of the two of us doing things that we wanted to do before we turned 30. What if we did it as an episodic videocast? That could be coo!
Anyway... the only thing annoying about the video podcasts is the stupid iTunes program that must download once you click on something... WHICH means that after perusing through 20 pages of podcast directory... I then lose my spot and have to start over. STUPID!
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Hello, my friend
There is a plumber at my house now who is actually... ACTUALLY ... showing off his ass crack. This is supposed to be fiction, people. This is not supposed to be a real thing.
On top of this he just called my dad and I in to show us the faucet he was fixing.
Plumber: My friend, can you take a look at this.
Us: OK
Plumber: This faucet is leaking, my friend. It's broken.
Us: OK
Plumber: My friend, I put the new pieces in but now it is leaking.
Us: Isn't that the one that was leaking before?
Plumber: Yes, my friends. Now it is leaking worse.
Us: OK....What did you want us to do? Call a plumber?
(Blank stares)
Ass crack. Ass crack. Round buttock cheeks protruding from jeans.... ASS CRACK!
On top of this he just called my dad and I in to show us the faucet he was fixing.
Plumber: My friend, can you take a look at this.
Us: OK
Plumber: This faucet is leaking, my friend. It's broken.
Us: OK
Plumber: My friend, I put the new pieces in but now it is leaking.
Us: Isn't that the one that was leaking before?
Plumber: Yes, my friends. Now it is leaking worse.
Us: OK....What did you want us to do? Call a plumber?
(Blank stares)
Ass crack. Ass crack. Round buttock cheeks protruding from jeans.... ASS CRACK!
Mornings
How the morning went in my head (with a small dose of reality):
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
(Taysha is selling off a small paper sheet full of Kathyrn Hepburn's earrings...or are they hat pins... to high bidders for my mother, I hear. Mom is super impressed and making a lot of money. My inheritance? Taysha runs in...)
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Erin: HUH??
(...with a notebook full of drawings of balloons. Taysha: "Look at what Leslie was going to draw on my wall...er... I mean your wall." She whips out a drawing of one girl sitting at a computer with another girl laughing behind her. Taysha flips the page and addresses my mother. Taysha: "My mom called and my dad is having a cake after all." She shows my mother a drawing of balloons that says "The Neighbors.")
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Erin: HUUUHHH??
Mom: Can you come to the door?
Erin: WHYYYYY?
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
(Alarm is dinging.)
Erin: WHATT?
Mom: Can you come to the door?
Erin: WHHHYYYYY?
(Taysha flips to another page - a drawing of my room with two new chairs in it. Taysha: "Look - I got them! I got them!" I feign happiness all the while thinking - "Why the fuck is Taysha re-decoring my room?" I go to my room and put something in it... then move it and apologize saying, "Oh I should probably find somewhere else for this and not mess up the room any further." Thinking in my head, "So your fucking chairs can fit." I go to the bathroom ... Taysha screams and knocks on the door. I don't respond. I hear Taysha whimpering to my mother and then running to the back bathroom. Apparently she's having a "sudden" attack of the runs. I smile a little.)
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Erin: WHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY?
Mom: Just come to the door!!!
I get up and go to the door. (Fucking God Fucking Fuck Fuck WHY?)
Door opens a crack. Mom is standing there in a cute little denim outfit.
Erin: WHAT?
Mom: Dina (the housekeeper) is here!
Erin: So????
Mom: Get up! Use the bathroom so she can get in there and clean it!
Erin: No!! (Fucking fucking fucker)
Mom: Just do it! It's one day every two weeks! Adapt!
Erin (just glaring)
Mom: Do it!
Erin: Why couldn't you answer me through the door?
Mom: I didn't want to yell that she was here.
Erin: (Fucking bitch...yells every other goddamn thing...yells it "once every two weeks" but today she won't?)
Mom: And straighten it up while you're in there! Are those Miriam's shoes I found in there?
Erin: Yes.
Mom: They were muddy.
Erin: That's why they were in the bathroom.
Mom: Well I put them in your basket.
Mom departs. Erin walks into the bathroom.
Erin: (Fucking goddamn! Why the fuck am I in here? Cuz the fucking maid needs to mess my fucking system up. She better not fucking change my comfy sheets. I hate that shit. I should be sleeping. My fifth alarm hasn't even gone off. Goddamn mother fucking Dina. I should fucking go back to bed and close both doors so she can't do a damn thing. Make her fucking wait until I'm up. Goddamn Taysha "re-decoring" my room! What the fuck is that shit? Oh THANKS MOM for putting a new "basket" in my room for my fucking shit. I already had two "baskets" and I had them down to a system. One for hair product. The other for everything else but goddamn Dina can't tell what a fucking system is and fucked it up every time. Now you've moved my two system baskets and gave me a third for what the fuck now? WHY THE FUCK would you put muddy fucking shoes on top of my shit in the goddamn basket?? I'm putting these shoes on the ground. Dina can fucking deal. If that bitch loses my fucking tweezers again I'll kill her. I better hide my goddamn shit. Fucking Dina.)
An alarm starts dinging from the other room.
(FUCKING fucker! I should still be sleeping! That's only alarm number 3!!! Maybe I won't put my fucking contact lenses in and then I'll have to kick Dina the fuck out when I get up again. Fucking bitches!!!)
I put my contact lenses on.
(I'm going back to the goddamn bed! If that fucking "housekeeper" brought that fucking grandkid again I'm going to have to smile. Why the fuck are there kids in my goddamn house? Fuck smiling! I'll just glare.)
I exit the bathroom glaring. No one is around. I re-enter my bedroom and close the door.
(I can't go back to bed now! My friggin' contact lenses are in. That makes me fucking grouchy! What the fuck am I supposed to do now?)
NEEDLESS TO SAY - I'm not a morning person. (I really should have gone back to bed.)
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
(Taysha is selling off a small paper sheet full of Kathyrn Hepburn's earrings...or are they hat pins... to high bidders for my mother, I hear. Mom is super impressed and making a lot of money. My inheritance? Taysha runs in...)
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Erin: HUH??
(...with a notebook full of drawings of balloons. Taysha: "Look at what Leslie was going to draw on my wall...er... I mean your wall." She whips out a drawing of one girl sitting at a computer with another girl laughing behind her. Taysha flips the page and addresses my mother. Taysha: "My mom called and my dad is having a cake after all." She shows my mother a drawing of balloons that says "The Neighbors.")
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Erin: HUUUHHH??
Mom: Can you come to the door?
Erin: WHYYYYY?
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
(Alarm is dinging.)
Erin: WHATT?
Mom: Can you come to the door?
Erin: WHHHYYYYY?
(Taysha flips to another page - a drawing of my room with two new chairs in it. Taysha: "Look - I got them! I got them!" I feign happiness all the while thinking - "Why the fuck is Taysha re-decoring my room?" I go to my room and put something in it... then move it and apologize saying, "Oh I should probably find somewhere else for this and not mess up the room any further." Thinking in my head, "So your fucking chairs can fit." I go to the bathroom ... Taysha screams and knocks on the door. I don't respond. I hear Taysha whimpering to my mother and then running to the back bathroom. Apparently she's having a "sudden" attack of the runs. I smile a little.)
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Erin: WHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY?
Mom: Just come to the door!!!
I get up and go to the door. (Fucking God Fucking Fuck Fuck WHY?)
Door opens a crack. Mom is standing there in a cute little denim outfit.
Erin: WHAT?
Mom: Dina (the housekeeper) is here!
Erin: So????
Mom: Get up! Use the bathroom so she can get in there and clean it!
Erin: No!! (Fucking fucking fucker)
Mom: Just do it! It's one day every two weeks! Adapt!
Erin (just glaring)
Mom: Do it!
Erin: Why couldn't you answer me through the door?
Mom: I didn't want to yell that she was here.
Erin: (Fucking bitch...yells every other goddamn thing...yells it "once every two weeks" but today she won't?)
Mom: And straighten it up while you're in there! Are those Miriam's shoes I found in there?
Erin: Yes.
Mom: They were muddy.
Erin: That's why they were in the bathroom.
Mom: Well I put them in your basket.
Mom departs. Erin walks into the bathroom.
Erin: (Fucking goddamn! Why the fuck am I in here? Cuz the fucking maid needs to mess my fucking system up. She better not fucking change my comfy sheets. I hate that shit. I should be sleeping. My fifth alarm hasn't even gone off. Goddamn mother fucking Dina. I should fucking go back to bed and close both doors so she can't do a damn thing. Make her fucking wait until I'm up. Goddamn Taysha "re-decoring" my room! What the fuck is that shit? Oh THANKS MOM for putting a new "basket" in my room for my fucking shit. I already had two "baskets" and I had them down to a system. One for hair product. The other for everything else but goddamn Dina can't tell what a fucking system is and fucked it up every time. Now you've moved my two system baskets and gave me a third for what the fuck now? WHY THE FUCK would you put muddy fucking shoes on top of my shit in the goddamn basket?? I'm putting these shoes on the ground. Dina can fucking deal. If that bitch loses my fucking tweezers again I'll kill her. I better hide my goddamn shit. Fucking Dina.)
An alarm starts dinging from the other room.
(FUCKING fucker! I should still be sleeping! That's only alarm number 3!!! Maybe I won't put my fucking contact lenses in and then I'll have to kick Dina the fuck out when I get up again. Fucking bitches!!!)
I put my contact lenses on.
(I'm going back to the goddamn bed! If that fucking "housekeeper" brought that fucking grandkid again I'm going to have to smile. Why the fuck are there kids in my goddamn house? Fuck smiling! I'll just glare.)
I exit the bathroom glaring. No one is around. I re-enter my bedroom and close the door.
(I can't go back to bed now! My friggin' contact lenses are in. That makes me fucking grouchy! What the fuck am I supposed to do now?)
NEEDLESS TO SAY - I'm not a morning person. (I really should have gone back to bed.)
Why I Love My Dad
Dad: I think I'm going to have the pahsta.
Me: What are you, Canadian?
Dad: What do you mean?
Me: You said "pahsta." I've only heard Canadians say it like that.
Dad: How are you supposed to say it?
Me: "Pawstuh"
Dad: But I was using it in the past tense.
Me: What are you, Canadian?
Dad: What do you mean?
Me: You said "pahsta." I've only heard Canadians say it like that.
Dad: How are you supposed to say it?
Me: "Pawstuh"
Dad: But I was using it in the past tense.
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