Archive for April, 2007

P.S. I cannot get a youtube video directly onto my site to save my life.


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This video is genius.

 <object width=”425″ height=”350″><param name=”movie” value=”http://www.youtube.com/v/OXM5LGfpmrE”></param><param name=”wmode” value=”transparent”></param><embed src=”http://www.youtube.com/v/OXM5LGfpmrE” type=”application/x-shockwave-flash” wmode=”transparent” width=”425″ height=”350″></embed></object>

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Happy Anniversary!

Tomorrow, Wednesday the 25th, will mark 4 weeks of my lazy reflective vacation from working. In that time, I have become addicted to online chess (6-game losing streak, baby!), applied to 6-ish positions, watched The View more times than I’d like to admit and have gone on a few leisurely strolls with my pal, Skeletor. I even toyed with the idea of launching a multi-billion dollar business, but I just can’t narrow down the slogan.

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Spring Awakening

Up until last year, I hated spring. When everyone else was happily waving winter goodbye, I longed for the ability to hibernate until the next big snowfall. But then i discovered capris. I love spring now. Even though I am still beyond pale, I work it. I wear my capris and flip flops with splendor and glory. Spring also means that the downtown farmers market is in full swing. So for the last few Saturdays, I’ve been wondering around the many aisles of produce and homemade goods. There’s the table of all different flavors of honey. You can even buy your own honey stick (think pixie sticks but with honey) for only 25 cents. Then there’s the booth of homemade and organic pastas. I particularly love the table with the wee little banana, zucchini and carrot cakes and breads. But something else happens at the farmers market that i despise. I sneeze about 2 million times (give or take a few thousand). Damn allergies. Next time I’ll just wear a surgical mask. That won’t scare people off at all.

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Oh, readers; I only jest about really winning six million dollars, but I did have a dream last night that I did. The strange thing is that as soon as I was holding what appeared to be a the winning lottery ticket, everyone hated me. I asked to borrow someone’s something-or-other and she sneered, “Why don’t you just buy yourself your own something-or-other?” And I replied, “That would be like me asking to borrow shoelaces that you can only get in Japan and you telling me to go buy my own.”


Needless to say, I woke up feeling A) disappointed that I was still jobless and poor and 2) confused about the Japanese shoelaces comparison. At least I’m not having nightmares anymore.

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The new album from Feist is coming out soon. The video for the song, “My Moon, My Man” is on youtube (link posted below) and, let me just say, I wish people really did act this way in airports. I wouldn’t despise going to them nearly as much if people like Feist populated the stale, blah-ish airports. So, next time you find yourself on one of those walk-alators, try adding a little rhythm to your step:


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Well, folks, I’m back from St. Louis. I never really got to experience the real, gritty city (as gritty as STL can be) until I was shown around by a “local” – a.k.a. Brandi. We went all over the place. From the City Museum (a little less museum, a little more adult playground complete with caves, slides and ballpits) to the Science Center, The STL Art Museum and a sushi place called the Drunken Fish. I had a STL delicacy called gooey butter cake….which was, um, gooey and buttery and quite cake-like. They have this shit all over the place. The guy who owns the house where Brandi rents a room is named Sam. His fiance is named Pearl, and they are from Gana. Furthermore, they are prince and princess and Sam was in line to be the next king, but he discovered that no, that isn’t the life for him. So instead, his brother will take over the throne eventually and Sam rents out a huge house in STL to have a dozen people. Quite a world away from his life in Gana.

Now, the job junt continues. I applied to another nonprofit organization today. It’s a grant writing position. I noticed that another grant writing position opened up at none other than KCK Community College. In an ideal world, Antonio and I could have lunch every day! But alas, that job requires a bit of experience. Another time, perhaps…

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