As much as I wish my great sin was that of lust, or pride, or maybe even wrath, I'm pretty sure mine would be sloth, with a small side of gluttony. I swear I live by the motto, "Why do today what you could put off until tomorrow". This past weekend was FULL of time for me to actually get some things accomplished around the house, I just couldn't bring myself to do any of it... Hell (no pun intended), I'm even having a hard time writing this entry. I keep thinking that I have nothing blog-worthy to write about.
Of course, not too many blog-worthy things happen because I simply rarely ever get out and about. I keep resolving to get off my a** and DO SOMETHING already, but then I think, "OK, I'll do something tomorrow." See how that vicious cycle works?
Then again - when I think about it, I have a pretty busy schedule. I work full-time (who doesn't), I go to class twice a week, and while the past couple of weekends have been slow, typically I'm in my car driving to visit family or friends. I think my problem has less to do with being slothful and more to do with not getting any sense of verve out of the things I am doing! Where did this horrible sense of apathy come from? I have a good life... why the hell don't I enjoy it more?!?
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
The one in which I shamelessly rant over Grey's Anatomy.
Perhaps I am personalizing the storyline too much (hmmm, ya think?), but I can’t help but feel little to no pity or compassion for McDreamy, and more than just a little animosity. So he still has feelings for our heroine… boo hoo, suck it up, who gives a good gorram.
Personally, I think he is selfish and exceedingly pompous in his actions. If he had an ounce of true feeling for Grey, he would allow her the opportunity to be happy with Finn. If she finds that Finn does not make her happy, and they split, then dive in with your declarations of love; instead he leaves her with this Damoclean choice, which allows for no clear choice because one can’t see clear of all the hearts involved! At the very, very, very least he should ditch the wife and get his own shit straight before dumping all over Grey. So what’s he doing? Waiting for Grey to choose and in case she chooses Finn he’s keeping wifey strung along as a backup? McDreamy, how about you make yourself absolutely vulnerable, instead of keeping an ace tucked up your sleeve. When you love someone, you want what is best for them, not yourself.
And don’t even get me started on how judgemental he was when he first saw Grey with Finn. Bless her heart for saying that he didn’t get to dictate the manner in which she fixed what he broke, that he didn’t have the right to call her a whore. I want to stand up and holla every single time that clip gets played.
Ugh – he is a big ‘ol pack of toxic wrapped up in a seemingly sweet, sensitive, handsome package.
And yes, I do know it’s just a show and the writers are writing all this for suckers like me who will personalize the story… I’m buying what they are selling hook, line, and sinker, even tho I know they are peddling me crack.
I’ll be tuning in next Thursday for my next hit.
Personally, I think he is selfish and exceedingly pompous in his actions. If he had an ounce of true feeling for Grey, he would allow her the opportunity to be happy with Finn. If she finds that Finn does not make her happy, and they split, then dive in with your declarations of love; instead he leaves her with this Damoclean choice, which allows for no clear choice because one can’t see clear of all the hearts involved! At the very, very, very least he should ditch the wife and get his own shit straight before dumping all over Grey. So what’s he doing? Waiting for Grey to choose and in case she chooses Finn he’s keeping wifey strung along as a backup? McDreamy, how about you make yourself absolutely vulnerable, instead of keeping an ace tucked up your sleeve. When you love someone, you want what is best for them, not yourself.
And don’t even get me started on how judgemental he was when he first saw Grey with Finn. Bless her heart for saying that he didn’t get to dictate the manner in which she fixed what he broke, that he didn’t have the right to call her a whore. I want to stand up and holla every single time that clip gets played.
Ugh – he is a big ‘ol pack of toxic wrapped up in a seemingly sweet, sensitive, handsome package.
And yes, I do know it’s just a show and the writers are writing all this for suckers like me who will personalize the story… I’m buying what they are selling hook, line, and sinker, even tho I know they are peddling me crack.
I’ll be tuning in next Thursday for my next hit.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Things that piss me off!!!
Group Spreads Anti-Gay Message At Flight 93 Memorial Service
Just how much unmitigated self-righteousness does it take to make a person think that it is ok to turn a memorial service for folks who sacrificed themselves so that others might live in to a forum for their own hateful message???
Nevermind how wrong I think these people are, above and beyond that they are just plain RUDE!
Just how much unmitigated self-righteousness does it take to make a person think that it is ok to turn a memorial service for folks who sacrificed themselves so that others might live in to a forum for their own hateful message???
Nevermind how wrong I think these people are, above and beyond that they are just plain RUDE!
Monday, September 11, 2006
But wait! I thought I was watching football!!!
I've been going around in my head about whether or not to blog about today. There are so many others out there who are much more eloquent than I am, who have put the feelings of five years ago and of today into such wonderful entries and tributes, I feel like anything I could possibly write would simply be inconsequential.
I'm still very raw about 9/11. I haven't been able to go see any of the movies about it, whether on TV or in the theatre. Today, I read some blogs and some tributes in the paper, but I've avoided the TV. The still photos I've seen today have touched me deeply; I don't think I could handle any moving ones.
So today I've had my fill. I've remembered my shock, my anxiety, my desperate need to talk to family on that day and I don't really live or work anywhere NEAR the Pentagon. I've cried for folks who have died, who's absences continue to haunt those they left behind. I had had enough for the day, at some point you just have to protect your own nerves.
So I turned on Monday Night Football - had to see my 'Skins in their home opener. First half was good, they walked off the field in the lead...
... and then halftime begins with a 9/11 retrospective.
... queue tears
What in the name of all that is holy does football have to do with 9/11? I suppose I would understand if they had done a retrospective on players who sacrificed their careers to join the war in reaction to 9/11; if they had done another tribute to men like Pat Tillman (were there any other men from the NFL like Pat Tillman?), but Pat was barely a footnote in their piece. It was full of images of the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, sprinkled with images of football players running with flags once they resumed playing after the post-attack hiatus. It made me cry, but under my tears was a level of anger. I felt like my tears were being milked from me and I had to change the channel. I don't know, a moment of silence before the National Anthem would have been appropriate; the show that ESPN put on simply seemed like an exploitation of the tragedy to me and it hurt, like I was being beaten over the head with it.
I'll be glad to get up tomorrow, not because want to put 9/11 behind me, because I don't think anyone who saw those images whether right in front of them or on TV will ever forget them, but because the relentless wrenching coercion of some of the day's tributes smell a little self-serving, and are just too much for me to bear.
I'm still very raw about 9/11. I haven't been able to go see any of the movies about it, whether on TV or in the theatre. Today, I read some blogs and some tributes in the paper, but I've avoided the TV. The still photos I've seen today have touched me deeply; I don't think I could handle any moving ones.
So today I've had my fill. I've remembered my shock, my anxiety, my desperate need to talk to family on that day and I don't really live or work anywhere NEAR the Pentagon. I've cried for folks who have died, who's absences continue to haunt those they left behind. I had had enough for the day, at some point you just have to protect your own nerves.
So I turned on Monday Night Football - had to see my 'Skins in their home opener. First half was good, they walked off the field in the lead...
... and then halftime begins with a 9/11 retrospective.
... queue tears
What in the name of all that is holy does football have to do with 9/11? I suppose I would understand if they had done a retrospective on players who sacrificed their careers to join the war in reaction to 9/11; if they had done another tribute to men like Pat Tillman (were there any other men from the NFL like Pat Tillman?), but Pat was barely a footnote in their piece. It was full of images of the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, sprinkled with images of football players running with flags once they resumed playing after the post-attack hiatus. It made me cry, but under my tears was a level of anger. I felt like my tears were being milked from me and I had to change the channel. I don't know, a moment of silence before the National Anthem would have been appropriate; the show that ESPN put on simply seemed like an exploitation of the tragedy to me and it hurt, like I was being beaten over the head with it.
I'll be glad to get up tomorrow, not because want to put 9/11 behind me, because I don't think anyone who saw those images whether right in front of them or on TV will ever forget them, but because the relentless wrenching coercion of some of the day's tributes smell a little self-serving, and are just too much for me to bear.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
I love Fall
It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
I'm sitting in front of the TV watching Penn State in their opener, the 'Skins are not doing so well in their preseason, but the last time they went winless in the preseason... (I dare not write the rest), the Caps start season practices in two weeks, and next weekend is the last race before the Chase starts, and I'm going. Additionally, Ernesto has taken the temps down around here about 20 degrees, which puts the weather right in my perfect zone of 65 - 75. I've got cold beer, a three-day weekend, and life is good, pretty darn good.
My friends are watching Penn State also... I know this because a) they are Penn State alumni, and they are a breed apart and b) I got a phone call this morning while I was still asleep. The voice mail that was left for me went something like this:
"WWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fall starts at 3:30! Weeeeeeee Arrrrreeeeeeee!!!!"
No name left with the message, as if I needed it, didn't even need to consult the caller ID. When I finally finished giggling I returned the call and greeted with, "PENN STATE!!!!"
Only shame is that they are in Pittsburgh, I am here in Reston.
What ends up happening is a constant back and forth via phone. Something happens and I call them or they call me... this is the life of a long-distance friendship.
I live for weekends like this one though. No running around, no endless errands, nothing to do but drink a beer, watch football, and enjoy life (well, maybe a little laundry).
There is a bit of scripture that sticks in my head from Sunday School when I think about days like this, "This is the day that the Lord has made; we shall rejoice and be glad in it".
Amen to that.
I'm sitting in front of the TV watching Penn State in their opener, the 'Skins are not doing so well in their preseason, but the last time they went winless in the preseason... (I dare not write the rest), the Caps start season practices in two weeks, and next weekend is the last race before the Chase starts, and I'm going. Additionally, Ernesto has taken the temps down around here about 20 degrees, which puts the weather right in my perfect zone of 65 - 75. I've got cold beer, a three-day weekend, and life is good, pretty darn good.
My friends are watching Penn State also... I know this because a) they are Penn State alumni, and they are a breed apart and b) I got a phone call this morning while I was still asleep. The voice mail that was left for me went something like this:
"WWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fall starts at 3:30! Weeeeeeee Arrrrreeeeeeee!!!!"
No name left with the message, as if I needed it, didn't even need to consult the caller ID. When I finally finished giggling I returned the call and greeted with, "PENN STATE!!!!"
Only shame is that they are in Pittsburgh, I am here in Reston.
What ends up happening is a constant back and forth via phone. Something happens and I call them or they call me... this is the life of a long-distance friendship.
I live for weekends like this one though. No running around, no endless errands, nothing to do but drink a beer, watch football, and enjoy life (well, maybe a little laundry).
There is a bit of scripture that sticks in my head from Sunday School when I think about days like this, "This is the day that the Lord has made; we shall rejoice and be glad in it".
Amen to that.
Friday, September 01, 2006
I may not look happy, but do I look goooood?
Lately I’ve taken to curling my eyelashes. It seems to make enough of a difference that a few folks have actually commented on it, although its usually along the lines of “you look different, have you done something with your hair?”
If you ever get the urge to curl your eyelashes, I would highly advise doing so while standing still. Pacing is not recommended.
This morning I was pacing and curling my eyelashes at the same time… as I was pacing back into the bathroom I knocked my elbow into the doorframe and almost pulled out every. single. one. of my eyelashes by the root.
I believe a whimper escaped my lips, which is what happens when I do something that REALLY hurts.
I still have all my eyelashes (well, one or two were lost), but rest assured I will never EVER move from the spot in front of my mirror when I have that instrument in my hands again!
In other news... this is yet another attempt of mine to start a journal. It may not be pretty, it may not be nice, it may even make others want to rip their own eyelashes out in one fell swoop, but it will be my thoughts. "About me" will come at a later date either when I'm more bored at work or in class.
If you ever get the urge to curl your eyelashes, I would highly advise doing so while standing still. Pacing is not recommended.
This morning I was pacing and curling my eyelashes at the same time… as I was pacing back into the bathroom I knocked my elbow into the doorframe and almost pulled out every. single. one. of my eyelashes by the root.
I believe a whimper escaped my lips, which is what happens when I do something that REALLY hurts.
I still have all my eyelashes (well, one or two were lost), but rest assured I will never EVER move from the spot in front of my mirror when I have that instrument in my hands again!
In other news... this is yet another attempt of mine to start a journal. It may not be pretty, it may not be nice, it may even make others want to rip their own eyelashes out in one fell swoop, but it will be my thoughts. "About me" will come at a later date either when I'm more bored at work or in class.
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