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    Archive for July, 2007

    Angry

    20070731 08:26

    I’m not a person who gets angry. I’ll get upset, frustrated, even frazzled, but rarely angry. I hardly ever get to a point where my blood is boiling and smoke is coming out of my ears and I can’t even think straight. But that’s where I am right now.

    The biggest problem is, I’m not sure who to blame for my current situation. Whose fault is it when you get screwed over by someone? Is it your own fault, for trusting that person in the first place? Should you have checked and re-checked, to ensure you were going to get the result you deserved in the end? Or sometimes are people just absolute fuck-tards who treat other people like shit and get away with it because of some junior high monarchal mentality?

    What hurts so much is not the money I will lose because of this certain person’s thoughtlessness, but the time I spent working on a project I was very proud of, which will now never see the light of day. The hours and hours coding and converting and editing, which were hours I could have spent doing something more productive. Like mainlining vodka.

    People have told me I need to get over this. I need to move on. Live and learn. Next time, don’t trust people. But I hate that. I want to trust people. I want to be naive enough to think people will follow through with their committments. I want the fact that I think that way not to mean that I’m naive, just an optimist.

    But most of all, I want to hit rewind, and not watch the hours and hours of homevideos I had to review for this project. And I want to spend that time with my daughter and husband and friends. But I can’t have that, can I?

    See? Now I’m angry again.

    Updated: Read this. Seriously, read it. It took away all of my anger and made me believe in something better. At least for a moment.

    Emailing Rebecca

    20070730 13:15

    Remember Rebecca? My friend from high school who performed a fabulous lip sync to the Spice Girls “Wannabe” freshman year? Well after my post about the Spice Girls and how cool I was in high school, I scarily stalked her out through Google. Could I be creepier? I really don’t think so. Now we have some email banter going on, which reminds me of our old days in the freshman drama room. Oh, freshman drama room, how I miss your musty smell and your set decorations fashioned out of construction paper.

    As it’s a Monday morning and I’m extremely groggy and, honestly, a bit bitchy, I thought I’d share some email banter with you all. Because Rebecca lives in New York and works in publishing and reads romance novels for a living and has cocktails in the evening, and I’ll do anything to feel a connection between that life and the one residing in Kansas City with diapers and Boobah and corporate marketing and dog poop and annoying, rich, competitve mommies.

    Rebecca on Posh Spice:
    “Sup’ Sporty Spice - At the risk of totally shaming myself, did you see the “Posh Spice Comes To America” reality show last week? Because I did. I always thought she was supposed to be a psycho bitch but I have to admit, I kind of love her now. Especially her haircut. If we ever have a reunion of the MHS Spice Girls, I so call Posh. She wasn’t always blond, right?” - R

    “I thought you were Posh the whole time. I’m remembering a little black dress…” - M

    “I’m BABY SPICE, effer! I just <3 Posh." - R

    "I'm sorry. Ahem, Baby Spice. Girl Power." - M

    "Was Lacey Posh? Lily was Scary. And didn't Sporty turn out to be a lesbian? It was all those sports bras, I tell you. I bet Baby is fat now. Figures." - R

    On part time jobs:
    “Know what I do for extra dolla? I read manuscripts. For HARLEQUIN. As in, romance novels. It is the best job ever, and if it paid anywhere near my current job, I would do it full-time tomorrow. This whole grad school thing is a nice idea, but my ultimate career goal is to write romance novels. Seriously. It’s a total racket; some authors get six figures! You should start working on your “throbbing member” and sexy poolboy scenarios, and in a couple of years you’ll be ready to put that kid through college.”

    “Also, I meant to mention this in my last e-mail. I’m reading a romance novel at the moment, appropriately titled “The Mother Of His Child,” and it was just revealed that the woman the hero reconnected with and proposed to is not the ex-girlfriend who secretly bore his child, it’s her twin, who’s been raising her kid since she died in a car accident. So if Lucy is really your dead twin sister’s secret love child, I want you to know it’s okay to tell me. I understand.”

    On former teachers and exchange students:
    Good ol’ Fang-loving, parrot-toting [Mrs.] Wika. I don’t know Fang, obviously, but her Facebook picture looks like the Korean hooker from that ’80s Don Johnson music video.

    On work:
    One of my books, Global Capitalism (context: this is a stuffy, non-fiction economic analysis written by a nice but very boring professor from Harvard that got coverage in the NY Times), was recently translated into Spanish. The Spanish title is CAPITALISMO GLOBAL (imagine that being said in a Telemundo announcer voice) and the Spanish illustration for the jacket - which, fyi, is a nice, regal K-State purple - contains a frowning cartoon octopus wrapping its tentacles around the earth!

    Maybe you have to see it to get the full impact.

    Then, after learning that the Spanish word for octopus is “pulpo,”(our guesses included “octo” and “octupo” - both incorrect) my workbuddy and I tried to imagine the illustrator’s thought process: “ah, si, el pulpo quiere TODO EL MUNDO!” (also in Telemundo voice).

    Ah, here we go: www.ecobook.com

    The Mara Gets a Little Older

    20070727 09:21

    Tomorrow my faithful reader The Mara turns 24-years-old. In honor of this big birthday, I thought I’d write a little poem, lymric you might say, to accompany some images of dear, sweet The Mara.

    At the Moro House
    When we met, we were young and dumb,
    partying through the night.

    Old School
    You always had the cutest haircuts,
    your hair even used to be light.

    St. Pattys
    We’d go out in Manhattan all of the time,
    especially on holidays.

    Green Beer
    We’d drink so much, get sick sometimes,
    laughing all the way.

    Licking
    Your tongue, my dear, is so very long,
    you love to stick it out.

    Christmas 2006
    When we get famous I’ll sell these pictures to E!
    you will probably scream and shout.

    Mara and Lucy
    You a great Auntie to my little one,
    even though you were scared she’d be hairy.

    Mara and Baby Lucy
    She loves you to death, laughs when she sees you,
    even though you can sometimes be scary.

    Mara Simpson
    Happy birthday to you, you live in a zoo,
    you look like a monkey and you smell like one too.

    The. End.

    Space Camp Thursday

    20070726 13:07

    Space Camp Thursday

    Hopefully, if I look extremely busy and important, that man with the camera will stop looking up my crotch. Or maybe he’s just looking at my bitchin’ socks.

    Sigh, yawn, grumples

    20070725 08:38

    Lucy has this pair of PJs that I randomly bought for her when I was babysitting for my sister’s triplets. My sister called late that night to explain they wouldn’t be returning from parents’ night out and would be running away to Fiji. I can’t imagine why, I mean, three six-year-olds? What a pansy? Anyone could handle that.

    Point of this long winded story is I had to run out and get Lucy something to sleep in because she had managed to soak the outfit she was in. I went to the local Babies R’ Us (by the way, an extremely frightening shopping experience) and found a pair of “jammers” on sale for $5. They shirt was screened with a picture of a crustacean and had the words “I’m Crabby” below it.

    Today, I wish they made those in a women’s medium.

    If I had a pair of PJs to wear to work that said “I’m crabby,” today would be the day for it. Instead, I opted for a very chic pair of gauchos (circa 2005) from Target’s maternity line and a lavender t-shirt from Costco. Yes, apparently I’m the kind of woman who buys clothes at Costco. Heaven help me.