Friday, July 23, 2004

Proof positive, that I AM the worst girlfriend on earth:

I FORGOT B's birthday. Well, to be fair, I didn't actually forget it, so much as I moved the date in my head. In my head, I was thinking of all the things I had to do this week--packing, unpacking, cleaning, moving, meetings, reports, errands, blah--and how the earliest date I would have to do anything fun was Friday. And somehow that morphed into doing something for B's birthday on Friday and on into his birthday actually BEING on Friday. So, when on the phone he sheepishly asked me if I knew his birthday had past:

B: Um, you DO know my birthday was yesterday, right?

I retorted indignantly that in fact any person of even marginal intelligence knew that his birthday was on Friday and had therefore not happened yet. Snort.

Of course, I was wrong.

I have offered to make and wear a t-shirt that says, "worst girlfriend EVER." Rar.

posted by m at 11:34 AM

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

I love Jason Sho Green. In that same way that I once loved light bright and lusted after an easy-bake oven.

I went to the "shoppe" on his website and got the following message:

sorry...the shop is down. I'll be opening up a shop-only site with my girlfriend in mid-july. be excited for that.

And I thought, "Damn, he has a girlfriend."

Because, you know, I was planning to stalk him and be his best friend. He was supposed to fall recklessly in love with me and we were going to live happily ever after. In a swirl of maniacal bear sketches and paintings of bloody robots.

Oh, well.

posted by m at 5:54 PM

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

E just sent me this. Apparently the Canadians have already jumped on the tampon issue.

posted by m at 10:37 AM

Monday, July 12, 2004

I have this thing where I freak out about being around certain kinds of people--situations where I may possibly be judged on my appearance/job/car/purse--and I panic and do stupid things like impulsively spend a $150 on a dress that was not in this month's budget AT ALL and is not even that lovely or exciting or (even in ther alter-universe where I HAVE $150 to spend on a dress) really WORTH $150 dollars. I feel bad every time I look at it. This sick, sinking feeling that my lame anxieties about rich people have caused me to waste my precious money that I work hard for at a job that I like (mostly) and that I think makes a difference, on trying to win the opinions of the taller, and wealthier and better dressed.

I had to go to this wedding with B on Saturday, and what you have to know about B's friends, is that they are all that brand of former high school geek-turned engineer/accountant, who work at big corporations and have girlfriends that drive Mercedes and sport "LV" handbags and like to giggle and speak Chinese. Now, I don't have any problem with them. I don't even DISLIKE them. They're perfectly nice. They're just not exactly "my kind of people." Because as much as anyone says they want to or even DO get along with "anyone"--the truth is that the world is very simply made up of "your kind of people" and... everybody else. Chinese giggling, luxury suv driving, louis vuitton toting, lollicup sipping, sanrio adoring, make-up conversation having "Oh, I love your mascara...", ARE my everybody else.

It's as if all the values you have about yourself get turned upside-down, and you are suddenly nobody. Just small and unkempt and impossibly... poor. "You bought a USED car?" The metric has changed. But you haven't.

I don't want to BE them. Not at all. But I don't want to be judged by them, either. It's like waking up in a world where people are discuss how many cows you might bring in for dowry. And you think: Why am I not worth more cows? I should have been working on my cow-worth-market-price rather than wasting time on things like hiking and book reading!!


So now, instead of all the other things one could have done with $150, I have the awful and impossibly expensive dress-of-guilt. Arg.

posted by m at 1:02 PM

Friday, July 09, 2004

craft disasters, part 2

I have already confessed my lust for all things crafty. And that I wish I were the kind of person who could pull perfectly blocked scarves out of my ears every 10 minutes, but I'm not.

Today there was the squishy alien incident, a project that was inspired by the recent invasion of small stuffed monsters like this and this and this.

I sewed them up, relatively without incident. (Relatively, for me, meaning nothing at all was set on fire.) And they came out rather nicely. I set them out on my desk to inspect, and thought about how it would be funny to stuff them in a jar.

Looking back, I can generally pinpoint the moment that one of my projects heads south. This was THAT moment. Because after I had smushed them INside, I realized that they wouldn't come OUT of the jar, ever. EVER. I also realized that the jar was extremely smelly.

I was tempted to throw the whole stinky mess in the garbage, but because I am an environmental scientist, and because I believe in reducing waste (!), I gave them to my friend, anyway.

"Happy birthday!" I exclaimed, presenting the jar.
"Uh, what is it?" she asked, a bit puzzled.
"It's ART!" I said, gesturing enthusiastically.
"Oh. Thanks?"
"Yes, you're very welcome."

posted by m at 3:15 PM

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

I just realized that I pay sales tax on my feminine hygine products. Namely, tampons. Now, I think that this kind of thing should rightly fall in the same category as say, carrots, or milk i.e., things I don't pay sales tax on.

I'm thinking about starting a movement.

Don't tax my tampons!

posted by m at 2:36 PM

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