O. Mah. God.
Hell freezes over. Story at 11.
mutherfucker.
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Hell freezes over. Story at 11.
mutherfucker.
It's hysterical to hear my cousin J talk about the mishigas(1) down at the store. Or how she got babkes(2) for her birthday. She was born in NYC, but raised in the midwest and here in Dallas; which makes for an interesting accent. Her mother, my fathers sister, has a *very* strong NY accent, so it sounds completely normal coming from her. But to hear Yiddish words coming from this goyish(3) looking girl, it just seems wrong.
My grandmother and aunts would break into Yiddish for intervals of conversation that they didn't want us to understand, which led us to learn very criptic Yiddish, only the real basics. It's crappy, too. I mean, there was such a stigma against Jews for so long, that my grandparents never taught it to their kids, except for my dad's oldest sister who actually used it on a regular basis at work. That makes a whole generation of my mishpacha(4) Yiddishless. We know words, but that's pretty much it.
M has been trying to learn how to say certain things, which is hillarious! He is such a shagitz(5), at 6' 5" and 250 lbs, with red hair, my grandmother would crap herself to hear it. He pronounces the word shmata(6) "shamatta". So funny. So, I'm going to try to incorporate Yiddish into my daily life, just to sort of keep some tradition alive in this family. It's funny how many words are already there though:
Everyday Yiddish (and how to pronounce it, with examples)
shmuz (schmootz) - Uh oh! You got shmuz all over you from that crap you were eating!
khutspe (hootzpa) - You gotta lotta khutspe to give that baby her name!
kakameyme (cockamaymee) - Don't give me some kakameyme story about it either!
mazl-tov (mahzel-tov) - Moishe, you got the promotion! Mazl-tov!
nosh - Have a nosh now so you're not hungry in an hour.
mishmash - There's a whole mishmash of crap in here!
Interesting how so many words like these weave their way into society. M is trying hard with the Yiddish, which is adorable. I love it when people say the words in their Dallas drawl. Anyway, let me also give you the definitions for the ones I used above, so you too can be a Jew!
(1) craziness; (2) nothing; (3) non-Jewish; (4) family; (5) non-Jewish man; (6) rags, torn clothing.
"Oh my God! She said America sucks! Why doesn't she just leave then?" Bullshit. I don't have to leave. That's the good thing about being an American, right? I can bash my country and it's my god given right to do so. I used to love it here. I'm sure there will come a day again where I can hold my head high in the world. A day where inborn American arrogance and gluttony are seen as positives.
The reason why I'm so upset is this article I read about the 40,000 rapes of women and girls in the Congo. 40,000. Do you know how many people that is? That's like all of Pac Bell park, filled to capacity, being raped. Can you imagine no one even caring? "Hey did you see Bonds hit that homer tonight? And the 40,000 fans get brutally gang raped? Score!"
But we invaded Iraq because of the crimes against their people. What a fucking load of shit. This country, at present time, sucks. Sucks, sucks, sucks.
If you need to reach me, I'll be at Gitmo under the Patriot Act. Be sure to write!
I have a paper due on Tuesday on mandatory sentencing. I have a mid-term on the same day in my history class (you have ANY idea how much shit happened between 1900-1930? A lot.). I've done nothing more than take out a bunch of books on the prison system, and studied until roughly 1916. That was five hours of studying yesterday. Killer.
In the meantime, I'm going to go off on a little rant here, just to take my mind off of our faltering penal system and "big stick" diplomacy. Here we go.
You may recall me mentioning "The Victim" in these pages. "The Victim" would be my ex boyfriend, Bob Melvin. I have no problem writing his name out, because, honestly, he deserves all of the embarrassment the world has to give. Bob is little more than an annoying memory in a "How could I have been so dumb" sort of way. Though he was a cocksucker, he really helped me to understand who I was. I have grown more in the almost two years since that breakup than I have since I was 18. I know more about myself, my dreams, my tolerances, my loves. But, it's not like I wouldn't have found those things out, it just would have happened later rather than sooner.
Bob was a perpetual victim. The type of person that is owed a debt by the world because of the bad things that have happened to him in his life. His father took his own life when he was eight. Very sad. His mother married a man who was horribly abusive to him and his brothers. Awful. His mother died when he was about 20. Terrible. These things are truly bad things. His mom let the abuse occur; therefore he had this deep-seeded hatred for her, masked by this Oedipusian reverence for her.
While many people take things like this and use them to fuel their success (the "I'll show them" types), Bob instead spent every hour of every day making people feel bad. When he'd see an unattractive person, he'd laugh in their face "Ugh!” When someone was walking on the side of the road, he'd yell "slut!" or something to that effect. His friends were the most cowardly of all. He would treat them like shit, would actually tell me how much he hated them, loathed them. He'd say things like "I can do what I want to them because they'll never leave." He referred to them as his "minions". I thought for two years that he would change: until he did it to me. He actually is mentally ill, which is sad, sort of, but sad in a way that you feel for prisoners when you know they're a little slow, but they think they're really clever and evil.
I left him while he was at work, after he threatened to kill me and my dog. He started cutting up his legs saying "Look what you're making me do!” He would tell me that no one could ever love me the way he did. Classic signs of sociopathic manipulation. He does it to his friends, and his lovers. The smartest thing I ever did was stay on top of birth control. My heart goes out to the mother of his son.
So, this all behind me, I started my life over. I got a great job, a great apartment, and about 6 months later, I started dating M. Moved to Dallas last spring, things are moving along. Bob was completely gone from my life. Just another trainwreck of a relationship to use as a warning to my friends when they start falling for the "Sleeping with the Enemy" guy.
Until the other day, when I got an email from an old co-worker from Cape Cod. Bob has moved to Texas. How the fuck does this happen? How laaaaame. I mean, he's in Austin, so that's not a big deal. But, he's trying to start his band, Romero, up again, which means he'll try to play Dallas. The thing is, he'll fail. Not because Austin is a very hard music scene for the MOST original bands, but because they suck. So, I just hope that I don't ever bump into him, especially with M. I would guarantee his music career would be over mighty fast. But of all of the states in the country, this jackass has to come to mine.
I rarely get that girlie "I hope my boyfriend kicks your ass" thing, but man, this one really, really deserves it.
I'm working at this company as a receptionist. It sucks. $15 an hour. Yes, that's about $10/hr less than I was getting in SF. But, on the flipside, I do nothing. Where at my old job, a day may have consisted of me surfing the web and eating Kung Pao Chicken from Henry's Hunan (I miss you, you old lug), and the next day I may have spent scaling up the side of the building to the roof to design a makeshift shade for our skylights in the middle of a meeting. Really. True story. Except for the scaling part. There was a ladder. But the ladder was small, and the climb was scary. Sort of.
In this reception area, I'm privy to all sorts of info. Mostly info I don't want to hear. Honestly, I really don't give it much thought that you go to the bathroom 18 times in a seven hour period. The only thing that may possibly bother me about that is that each time you walk back in the office, I have to quickly close this here window that I'm typing in. Or maybe my Scrabble Blast! window. Or Craigslist. Or hotteensexkittens.com.
For some reason though, receptionism (my new word) is quite like bartending. People feel the need to talk to you, ask your advice, from where to send their kids to school to asking the gross national product of East Timor (petroleum) and then put you down in casual conversation: "Yeah, at least I'm not a receptionist!" Or "I'd rather be unemployed than be a receptionist!” Ya know what, buddy? Me too! I was unemployed, and it was GREAT! Who grows up saying, “Man, I wish I could answer phones all day?” I digress.
I'm told the strangest things by the passersby-of-reception desk. "I'm sorry I'm in and out all the time. I have IBS." Yum! "Man, this coffee is running RIGHT through me!" Oh, thanks. Why do they feel the need to justify bodily functions? I could see them saying that if they accidentally crapped on my shoe, but really! I don't care, so don't share!
And, a little tidbit from an experience at school last night. I'm talking to this guy, a nice guy from my Critical Thinking class. I like him, and I think some of the things he says are really good, but he's a lefty the way I was five years ago. He'll just think something is bad because it differs from the left, not because a whole lot of thought has gone into it. As I've mentioned before, being anti-establishment or leftist just merely because it's anti-conservative is really kind of dumb. As someone who does an obscene amount of research into things, I find that people like that are just as empty and bigoted as their opposites, just singing a new song.
He says, "So are you into activism and stuff?” And I tell him that since I've moved here I haven't been, really, and I was more into it in SF. I told him about my Anti-Newsom, Pro-Gonzalez crap that I was really into, and mentioned that too bad that we have to vote for Kerry, he may not be the best, but he's better than Bush, etc. So, he says to me "Hmph. I'd just rather vote along with my conscience." I was like, "Holy shit! Did you just question my conscience?" He's like, "Well, we're in a republican state, so there is no reason you can't vote Green here. The democrats will NEVER take Texas." I was like "Well not if you keep thinking that way! We have a democrat woman mayor, dude! In Dallas! Hellooooo?" Questioning MY political conscience...Bah!
Ahhhh, another "love/hate" list.
Authors I Love/Hate
Love: David Sedaris. There is no one funnier than this man ON EARTH. People actually try to get as far away from me as possible when I read him, because I laugh so hard, I start crying, and boogers drip out of my nose.
Hate: Sue Grafton. I've never actually read a Sue Grafton book, but I hate her titles "L is for Loser" or "S is for Suckass". How fucking unoriginal?
Hate: Dan Brown. Yes, I read the DiVinci Code. Who hasn't? Actually, if you've never read the DiVinci code, but have read another of his books, like "Angels & Demons" or "Digital Fortress", then you have, in fact read ALL of his books. Ready, this is how it goes: Man (most likely teacher or professor) and woman (probably scientist) run up against evil ancient organization/priest/monk/government official. Man dies, or so you think. Man lives. Woman lives. They get together at the end, probably at a little out of the way inn in St. Tropez/Venice/New Hampshire. End of story. SUCKS!
Music I Love/Hate
Love: Elvis Costello & The Attractions. I'm obsessed with him now, because I hate everything else that’s out. The song Oliver's Army is so great. Love him!
Hate: All of the following bands - Three Doors Down, Hoobastank, Evanescence, Cradle of Filth, New Found Glory, Good Charlotte, and pretty much any punk band out there that sucks.
Love: The Postal Service and Interpol. I didn't know until recently how much I really like these guys.
Movies I Love/Hate
Love: Garden State. It's the best thing to come out in a while, but I haven't seen Team America yet...
Hate: Fahrenheit 9/11. Ok, I don't HATE this movie, because it's really good for lefties like me who want Bush out. But I *do* hate people who see this and say "Oh! That's how it is!" NO NO NO NO NO! Yes, Michael Moore's facts can't be disputed, but he does manipulate things to fit his story line. By seeing that and taking it as is, is the same thing as these idiot right-wingers watching Fox News and doing the same thing. How bout this: Watch everything, read everything, and make up your own fucking mind. K?
Hate: The Matrix. Apparently I've never seen/paid attention to this movie, because when M explained it to me, I really had no idea. It's apparently about some computer program, when I thought it was about a stupid surfer who wears dumb clothes and trips out for a few weeks.
Love: I Heart Huckabees. I've not seen this yet, but I have a feeling I'll like it.
TV I Love/Hate
Hate: Anything with the following cast members: Jon Cryer, Charlie Sheen, John Lithgow, French Stewart, Jami Gertz, or The Cast of Friends.
Love: Lost. The best new show. Alias. Holy crap, can't wait until January.
Hate: Reality TV, EXCEPT Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. M's sister got me into this. I can't stop, and I cry through the WHOLE THING. Love it!
Person I Love/Hate
Love: Jon Stewart. How do not love him? HOW?!?!?!
Why shouldn't stupidity be painful? Yeah, I know, I failed my History test, so I'm kinda dumb myself, but I am NOT stupid. When someone asks "Is this gonna be on the test?” the teacher should be able to punch them in the face.
So this kid in my History AND Critical Thinking class really, really bothers me. Remember him? He's the one that wears a tie with a tee shirt. Idiot. Anypoo, he constantly asks the stupidest fucking questions on the face of the earth. Like, we'll be talking about FDR, and he'll be like "Um, Professor Longwinded, did FDR, like, did he, um, you know, like, did he cry on Tuesdays?" And everyone is thinking "What the fuck?", and I say out loud "What the fuck?" and he looks at me like I'm just the most horrible person on earth.
Then we go to our next class, and he's there. Talking and talking and talking about pretty much the most random, non-sensical crap that he can come up with. The other day, he comes to class with a white shirt on, that he wrote all over with a red sharpie. It said things like "Kerry 2004" or "Bring our boys home!" as if it's WWI and only the boys are there, and "Anti-Abortion!” Anti-Abortion? So I say, "You know Kerry is Pro-choice, right?" And he says "He's Catholic." Um, ok.
We're learning about Black Tuesday, and the crash and everything, and my teacher gets REALLY excited when he talks about this stuff. Like, he'll say things like "There was a guy...he got this crazy idea...(add some clever inventing crap here)...and that man's name was...THOMAS EDISON!" And he looks around wildly, hoping that some of us really, truly care as much as he does, and have wet our pants with the buildup. Well, he's going on about the crash, and giving us a day by day lead up to it: October 12th.....October 13th..... Well, shithead says "Do we need to know this for the test?" The kid drives me friggin nuts. Then, I came to a conclusion: He's robbing me. He's stealing my time, which I paid for.
And to top it off, the girl who ALWAYS sits next to me in class has taken to getting barefoot before the lecture, so I have no choice but to stare at her feet. It's like a G.D. carwreck. I want to vomit.
I'm hungover. I saw Bad Religion last night and it was GREAT. But I need sleep desperately. Man, I used to be able to party till dawn and go to work the next day. Getting older sucks. But, no one is here today, so I've spent the day on this site: The Best Page in the Universe.
You know what? I had this big long entry here for a few days, and didn't send out a notification for it, because it was really mean. It basically talked about my dads crazy family. The jist: they're crazy, and all the years of me trying to live up to their expectations were wasted, because, well, they're fucking insane.
I took the entry down, because on the off chance my Dad reads this, I don't want him sad. Even though he makes me sad all the time.
Stupid conscience.
Let me start this little "Let's feel sorry for Layla" routine with me saying *I know you can't make comments on my site. It doesn't work for some reason, and I don't know how to fix it. If you want to comment, email me and we'll chat, k?*
So here are some really crappy things that are going on in my world right now. Most of them aren't happening to me, per se, but to my loved ones.
-My Grandma died on Sunday. This was expected, as she was turning 91 this year (or 92 if you listen to my father, who sent her Happy 90th B-day flowers on her 89th birthday). This also means that I'll be going to New York for the 2nd time in a month, but at least I'll see my brothers. My grandmother, you may want to know, was not your typical old biddy. My guilt over not seeing her since my wedding (1999) is almost alleviated by the fact that I can always remember her as the spunky, adorable, borderline mentally ill woman I love. My family has issues, what family doesn't? But it has become apparent to me that my picture of my grandma is vastly different than the one held by my cousins. It seems that after I was born (the youngest of three) my Grandmother was all out of love. She used the last of it on me, and completely neglected my cousins. Who knew?
So, without spilling all my family secrets (on this post at least), it seems that each of us had a very different relationship with my grandma. My brothers and I will agree, I think, that grandma was the best. She always loved us, hugged us, cooked for us, bought us stuff, pretty much did all the good grandma stuff. And we'll always miss her. She gave us memories that I'll cherish forever, like the time me and J were in the backseat of her car driving with her and my grandpa, and J told me to look closely at the end of the umbrella. He, of course, pushed the button, nearly blinding me, but oh! The fun! And the time that we took out Grandpa's golf cart, and J spent the whole time perfecting hairpin turns to knock me out while doing what seemed (at age 7) to be 60MPH, but was more like 10MPH. Good times...
-Someone very close to me was diagnosed with cancer. We've been waiting every day for the past two weeks for an idea of what kind of cancer it is, what the treatment will be, etc. It's excruciating. I am completely fucked up over this, so I can only imagine what it's like for her. Luckily, she has an amazing support network of friends and family lining up to lend a hand, so that's a really good start.
-M is completely on edge. He's having stressful work issues, family issues, etc. I want to whisk him away to our place in Monte Carlo, but the jet is being fixed, so it's gonna have to wait until the winter. If we decide against Aspen, of course.
He has been subsidizing our posh lifestyle since I've moved here. I can mostly pay my bills and rent and whatnot, but not a goddamn month goes by that something doesn't come up and fuck up everything. Cars or emergency trips or whatever. So it's stressing him out that I make no money, bitch constantly, fall into deep i-miss-san-francisco depressions, gain weight (that doesn't make him stressed, but my incessant complaining about it does), and have no friends other than him (and no desire to make any). But does the crazy bastard stop loving me? No! Or, I really really hope not...
-I failed my first test at school. Failed with a capital Idiot. Me. The biggest know-it-all on earth. Turns out that not only do I not know it all: I know very, very little. Crap.
-I'm too fat for my fat clothes. This needs no description.
Random observation:
-My brothers are all so f'in funny. T is hysterical. J is really funny in a goofy sort of way. Actually, T & J are very similar in their funnyness. A is completely cynical and sarcastic and can make you feel really, really stupid sometimes, but not in a bad way. And they're all so confident, even A, who can't make a fucking decision to save his life. Anyone who can play with Magic cards at 21 years old has to be pretty secure in the fact that this is the dorky life he has, so he's gotta love it. Come to think of it, all of my brothers are dorks. T and J are just as dorky, but about different things. Hmmmm. I'd really like to see what happens to A when he gets his first serious girlfriend. Hopefully he won't wuss out the way T did for a piece of ass(sorry if you're reading this T, but come on...).
Anypoo...
Things that annoy me this week:
SUV’s. An oldie but goodie. M and I really got into it the other night about this one (he drives a 2000 Cherokee which get’s about 13 MPG city). The problem with the argument is that it happened when I was drunk. Anyway, his stance is that SUV’s aren’t inherently evil, nor are the drivers. I disagree. I understand why HE drives one (he hauls around samples all over the south, and needs a large vehicle to do it in). But, the rest of them ARE evil. He brings up the fact that in 2000, I came close to owning an SUV. Did I? No. Here are some SUV facts that I would have gladly provided had I not had 3 or 4 pint size Vodka Crans:
·SUV’s use more gas than passenger cars. They have larger tanks, and burn fuel quicker than passenger cars or light pickups. If current rates of consumption were to continue, the world's remaining resources of conventional oil would be used up in 40 years.
·A passenger car that gets about 28 MPG will emit 54 tons of Carbon Dioxide during the life of that vehicle. Your average SUV emits well over 100. In English: CO2’s rapid buildup is majorly responsible for extreme climate change. Driving an SUV adds to the buildup of greenhouse gases at twice the rate of a regular passenger car.
·SUV’s produce more smog causing pollutants than passenger cars. The American Lung Association did a study in 2000 that 141 million Americans lived in areas with poor air quality (major cause of respiratory issues, from emphysema to cancer). That is 14 MILLION more people than two years previous.
·SUV manufacturers raked in a profit of about $10K on every single SUV sold. It takes about $1,500 to turn an SUV that gets 16 MPG into an SUV that gets 28MPG according to a study by the National Academy of Sciences (NAS).
All of these points aren’t news to people. People know that SUV’s are bad for the environment. I didn’t even get into the statistics of rollovers, accidents, etc. To say that you “didn’t know they’re bad” is like people saying that back in the 60’s they didn’t know that smoking was bad. IT’S SMOKE. What do they tell you to do in case of fire? Don’t breathe the smoke! Not rocket science.
The fact is, the marketing spin on the SUV made them popular: Take a break from your hectic routine, jump into your SUV and head to the mountains for some offroading/snowboarding/kayaking/rock climbing! What a paradox. Take your SUV to nature. Your SUV is actually speeding up the complete demise of our environmental beauty, but pay no mind! No one thinks it odd when a 5’ 1” woman who would plotz if a bobcat came within 100 yards of her steps out of her Dodge Durango via stepladder? They are not safe cars. They rollover. People can’t control a vehicle with so much weight behind it. Especially here in Bad Driver Land.
So, yes. I do indeed think people who buy SUV’s for no good reason are evil. Even if they don’t know it.
-Music. All of it. Completely unoriginal. I don’t like punk. It’s dumb. It’s not what it was. It’s some 19 year old kid who sounds exactly the same as the other 19 year old kid. Actually, I do like punk, I hate NEW punk. I hate all these new bands that sound EXACTLY the same. It’s the same as nu-metal, just with more twinge in their voice. I can not, at all, find one single band that blows me away now. That’s really annoying. Side note: Saw Social Distortion the other night. Holy crap, they were good. Mike Ness really hasn’t lost it at all in his old age. And Matt Freeman from Rancid is touring with them. Hmmm.
-Perfume. Why? Why must you smell musky and hot at work? We know from your dark red lipstick and six-inch high bangs (higher the hair, the closer to god!) that you need attention. Must we smell you too? How fucking obnoxious!
Some random crap today.
-My blog entry didn’t make sense to some readers yesterday. To you I say “A-doy”. And sorry. Sometimes my brain works faster than my hands typing, and by the time I get around to jotting down a particular thought, it doesn’t…what were we talking about?
-Do you have a “lucky shirt” or outfit that you can’t wash because you’re afraid the magic will go away? Like, you got laid in that hot skirt, or landed your dream job in that suit? Well I’m wearing mine today. Except it’s not really lucky. I’m just too lazy to bring my clothes to the dry cleaner, so I’m just pretty much wearing dirty clothes.
-I have a job interview today, though I’ve committed to my temp assignment through the end of the year. I’ve gotta say, I’m going into this with no hopes or expectations. I mean, I felt really good about every interview I had been on, and they all turned to poo. This one, I wasn’t even going to send in my resume, but M insisted. They called me, crazy bastards. I’m gonna be like George Costanza, and do the exact opposite of what my instincts tell me.
-“What kind of message are we sending to our troops…” how many times was that shitforbrains gonna say that last night? Jebus!
-The weather is starting to get nice here. No more hot. Thank god. I really thought my skin was going to melt off.
-I’m fat. I’ve gone up almost a whole mother f’in size since moving here. I go to the gym. Ok, I’ve GONE to the gym. I eat well (oh my god! Have you tried these new Butterfinger Ice Cream bars? HOLY CRAP) and still the pounds come on.
-They ripped down my childhood home. I’m very sad. M doesn’t really understand why I was so upset, but M never really had a childhood home. He moved around a lot, so never really stayed anywhere more than five years or so. We had that place for 20 years. It’s just weird to see the place that you could always count on, no matter what, gone.
-M’s sister is coming to town today. That’s good. She’s the only person I’ve met in Dallas that I actually like and get along with. Girls don’t normally make me laugh a lot. This one does, it’s amazing. And she can do hair like a MO-FO! Downside: She lives in L.A.