Sock Monkeys and The Tarantino Connection

First of all, I love this dress!!! -- If I had this dress I would probably wear it at least once a week and sleep in it the other days. Man, it just leaves me semi-speechless.



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OK, now that I've gotten that girly freak-out out of my system, next topic. Someone asked me recently why my life is so strange. Actually, people that know me, ask this a lot.

I know that I haven't posted enough here for folks to get the full measure of just how weird it gets in the world of Hella, but trust me, it's freaky. I told her that although I don't know the why of the weirdness, I do get the distinct feeling that my life is actually a remake of the "I Love Lucy" show, only I'm divorced and Quentin Tarantino is directing the whole thing.

If it can go wrong or weird, it will, without fail; usually both if it's at all possible. I'm finally getting to the point where I'm OK with that, but it's taken a long time. Take the Mr. Meth story for instance. I mean, come on, how many other people have had some random dude sitting in their car in the mini-mart parking lot? (And yes, I have learned my lesson, lock the doors even if it's just for a minute)

Admittedly, I would prefer a calm, quiet life with some guy that worships me and my critters. But I think any semi-normal man that met me would probably run screaming in the oppposite direction when he got his first glimpse of what an emotional bag of snakes/freak magnet I truly am. I wouldn't blame him either, I'd run if I could.

Popping The Cherry

I have stories, lies, rants, and just random ideas that will appear here whenever I get the time to post.
Can't wait to see how it all works out.

First story...

The other night I ran to the mini mart down the street to pick up soda. When I got to the cooler in the back, I saw this skinny, very brown, very grey-haired older guy picking out random sodas and mumbling to himself. In the town I live in, this is not unusual (there is a lot of meth being produced here, or so I'm told), so I just went about my business. Keeping a safe distance in case he decided I was a giant meth addict eating spider.

Unfortunately, I moved too quickly because he was still at the register when I got up front, mumbling about the JonBenet guy to the cashier. Poor cashier, he looked disgusted and a little scared. (First rule of being a cashier at a mini mart, never show them fear.)

Mr. Meth finished mumbling, took his purchases and left. I paid, already forgetting about him and left as well. I was getting into my car when I saw something odd in the backseat. You guessed it, it was Mr. Meth. Right there in my car, looking totally content and ready to roll. Thankfully, I'm not so desperate for sex that I took him home with me. Instead, I asked him very nicely, about 5 times to get out of my car. Finally he did, and I went home. (maybe I should have gotten his number though, just in case)

I love my life. Even picking up soft drinks can become an adventure.

Great way to start the day

It's still too early to think, but I had to take a moment to talk about my parents. I love my folks, they are super cool, they don't stick their noses in my life too much, but I think that there is such a thing as being too hands off. That's them.

I called my mom on the way to work this morning, we chatted for a little while and when I got off the phone I realized that we hadn't spoken in almost a month. What's up with that? Why don't they call ME? I'm too far away for it to be offensive body odor. I do know that I've now given myself a new inferiority complex. Great way to start the day...

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A Word of Advice

Most of you have heard this at least once in your relationship, “I wish that…” Now, in that blank area you can insert “my ass was smaller, I had bigger boobs, I didn’t have so many wrinkles,” or whatever else it is that your partner is wishing for.

Here’s a little tip, the responses of, “But you look great,” or, “I love you just like you are,” – those are bullshit. The correct response is as follows, “If that’s what you want honey, then let’s make it happen.”

Pony up for the procedure, offer to help her out with whatever it is that is bothering her. Even though you may think she’s perfect (and NONE of you do, so quit lying to yourselves), she will feel way sexier if she fixes what she doesn’t like. And trust me, you will benefit from her feeling sexier, so just do it.

My biggest hang-up is my chest. It’s not what my mind sees on my body, because in my mind I am built like the fantasy comic book chick. Along with the myriad of other things that went wrong in my last relationship, if my man had just helped me buy a new set of tits, it probably would have worked itself out.

Think about this, it could save your relationship. And I promise, once whatever it is heals, you will benefit, in a HUGE way.

Local Kids Make Good

I went to see "Little Miss Sunshine" and it is freaking fantastic. Not only is it intelligent, well shot and a nice change from the crap I've seen recently, but it also features the music of one of my absolutely favorite "unknown" bands of all time, Devotchka! There's even a music video, which you can see here:

TILL THE END OF TIME
Devotchka
Singingfool.com

It is so cool to see a great movie and hear such a fantastic band getting the exposure they deserve.

random fragments

It's about 8.30 am on Saturday, I fought getting out of bed as long as I could. I need to go to the office to get more crap done that no one really cares about, but first I wanted to share this little tidbit.

So I have tried to create a new habit (my ONLY new year’s resolution in fact – I’ve gotten realistic with old age), to type random thoughts that come to me during the day into a single document so that I can do the following:

a) Spell check (for the love of PETE, this is so crucial)
b) Reality check (is this something I want everyone on the planet to possibly see? -- yeah, I know that only 5 people probably read this, but just in case...)
c) Sobriety check (as I told my dear friend A, friends don't let friends type drunk)

On that note, I thought I would share with you some random sentences (or fragments, for the grammar freaks out there) that I have written in the past few months that were just, well, too silly for a grown up to post (stop laughing damn it!). Taken out of context, they are pretty damn funny to me, and safe to post (maybe). -- Stand by for my public humiliation/self-flogging (I do it all for you darling, no one else, I swear)...

My favorite subject line:
"I smell like someone different" -- did I really write that? OK, taken in context it wouldn't be so bad (no, really, I swear). I am not dishing the context though, it's much MUCH funnier just standing there on it's own. (Or sad, or creepy, not sure yet)
Things I've written that now make me want to cringe in shame or possibly bitch-slap myself:
"...and despite my best efforts I fell in love" -- now WTF is THAT?? Did I mention that I am NOT in the midst of puberty? OR that I’m not in the starring role in some lame ass American romantic comedy? Yes? Well then, need I say more? I'll have to show that one to the kid when she gets a little older, she will get a kick out of it.

OK, now I’m starting to hate myself just for realizing that I have written this tripe. Here’s the last one:
"there is no hesitancy in admitting that I am damaged" – OK, I had to take a moment there to stop laughing at myself. Nothing worse than shooting your beverage all over your monitor, ridiculing yourself for being such a dweeb, while sitting alone in your basement. All I can say is this, "damaged" does not even begin to describe me for one thing and I’m OK with that.

Oh boy, I would just love to get myself loaded and watch the rest of the brilliance roll in. Sheesh…

Yay Localization!

You made it all better, thank you SO much. I TOLD you that you are Superman!!!

Oh Glorious Exotica

Today I woke up in one of those craptastic moods, just knowing that once my feet hit the door of the veal pen, it was going to be a rough day. -- So to keep my mood as far away from homicidal as possible, I decided to listen ONLY to somafm.com's streaming station "Ill Street Lounge: Classic bachelor pad, playful exotica and vintage music of tomorrow."

I would like to say that thanks to this station, no humans were hurt in the production of this day. If you like lounge, exotica, check it out. They have other cool stations too, such as "Secret Agent: The soundtrack for your stylish, mysterious, dangerous life." I'm listening to that one now, and it's lovely, truly lovely.

That's all. I have to get back to work. But I wanted to share this with any other wage slaves that may need intervention.