Rock

I'm number one for the google search The nicest vagina in the world. But only in spanish, for some reason.

Which is obviously weird and wrong, since I do, in fact, have the nicest vagina in the world.

Hello, My Darlings

I have, unfortunately, had to leave the bed, and I am currently safe and sound in Maryland with the lovely Emily. I will be in Philly on the 1st, where I shall begin the whole wacky moving in process. Em and I are having fun girly times already, so you should not be concerned about us.

I am, however, very sad to have left North Carolina. Words I thought I'd never say, to be sure! Ahhh, love makes fools of the best of us.

Fun Times in NC

You see, there's this bed here . . . and also this couch . . . and they are nice.

Not so sure about the rest of the state.

We went to an Early 90s Dance Party at a club last night and danced in a cage. Also, we started a dance revolution in the bar we went to after the club.

Ran into someone from Oberlin walking down the street the first day I was here. The girl and I were holding hands, and the chick I know from Oberlin was like, "I was all excited because I saw a lesbian couple I didn't know, and then I was like, 'Hey, they're from Oberlin!'"

On Break

If I'm not posting over the next ten days, it's because I'm having hot lesbian sex.

Dear Los Angeles

Los Angeles, you are so hard to seperate from your myths. You're the people trying to be famous, you're where the West ends, you're the last part to be conquered, you're falling into the sea. But sometimes, Los Angeles, you're just a suburb with really good weather.

LA, (I can call you LA, right?) people seem to think that you're the future, you're what we're California Dreaming of. But my dreams are of public transportation, and tall buildings close together. LA, I'm going to walk to work in the snow, in my fake fur coat and fuzzy hat.

I'll miss you. I think I like you best off all when you're overcast, fog coming in from the sea on mornings when I'm a wee bit cracked out or hung over. I love when the sky and sea blend together, and the end of the world is an endless circle of blue. I love your freeways, the way they climb over each other with cement structures that remind me of dinosaurs. And yes, I love 80 degrees in the middle of January.

Love,
Cyn

PS. A-1 All American Roofing Mural on the 110 Freeway, I think I'll miss you most of all.

I Want, Part One Billion

Orange Kitty Shirt!

And how cute (and totally unhelpful) is their little "what does this shirt look like" drawing?

Three Legged Dog

I Sold Out

RIP Bob Racecar Bob, 1984-2002

My car Bob died today. Thankfully, he did not die on the freeway. (I am totally terrified that one day I'll be in a car breakdown on the freeway! It's like, the scariest thing in the world to me!) He started to go on the freeway, and kind of lost fourth gear, but being the brave and loyal car that he always was, he managed to make it all the way to my dad's work. My dad says that it was probably the transmission.

Bob was a good car, and he was always there for me. I credit him for saving my life on at least one occasion. He may not have been the nicest looking car, and he may not have liked going over 65, but he got me where I needed to go. He will be missed.

And if anyone says that Dodge Colts aren't sexy as fuck, I'll kick their ass.

Conversation with my Brother

Setting: The car.
Me: Did you ever meet Ben?
Bro: I don't know. What does he look like?
Me: He's tall, skinny, kind of English.
Bro: Did he come over the first night I was staying with you?
Me: I don't know. He's naked a lot, wears girl's clothing a lot.
Bro: That doesn't really narrow it down.
(Random Conversation)
Me: Did you meet (other friend)?
Bro: What's he like?
Me: He's kind of balding, wears a baseball hat with things on it a lot, he's gay.
Bro: Uh, maybe.
Me: He's kind of pudgy.
Bro: Is he the coke dealer?
Me: Yeah.
Bro: Yeah, I met him.
Me: Staying at my house was like a little trip into degredation for you, wasn't it?
Bro: Pretty much.

Eat the Old

I was wearing my "Babies: Fun to Make, Fun to Eat" shirt today. I went to Home Depot to buy some packing boxes, and I had to ask one of the employees where they were. After I got the boxes, I was walking back past the person I'd asked to where my dad was, and I kind of gave her a, "Look! I have boxes now!" nod, smile thing. So she comes up to me, and talking in a conspiratial tone says, "After you left, there was this old couple, and the old Lady said, 'That woman was wearing the most offensive shirt I've ever seen!' I thought it was funny."

This kind of surprised me, because really, who thinks baby eating is that shocking? This shirt isn't even the most offensive shirt I own. It's nowhere near as good as my "Watch More Porn" shirt or my "Jesus Hates You" shirt. And I don't even own a "Ask Me About My Vagina" shirt.

I obviously need a shirt that says: "Old People: Twenty Pounds of Cranky Dumb Snatch in a Ten Pound Bag."

How Do People Feel

About Cingular wireless? If I get a cell phone, and no land line, will I need 350 or 500 minutes a month, if I have 3500 Night and Weekend Minutes?

I need guidance, people!

Dear Gin,

I love you! And your name rhymes with mine! This means we are meant to be together.

Yours with lime on ice,
Cyn

I Want!

"Ask Me About My Vagina" merchandise . . .

I'm not sure whether I like the "Team Vaginas" shirt or the "Vaginas are for Lovers" mousepad best . . .

Holy Fucking Shit

I'm leaving to see the girl in six days. I'm moving into my Philadelphia apartment in fifteen days. I still need to, oh, pack up my belongings, figure out banking, figure out keys, figure out electricity, phone, etc, and find a job.

I'm feeling a little frazzled. Possibly because I haven't gotten enough sleep all week because of this goddamned parrot's need to sqawk starting at six-thirty in the morning.

Does anyone have cell phone recomendations?

Bob Racecar Bob

You know how, when you're driving on the freeway, sometimes you see someone in a car that's just completely fuct up? It's got primer colored parts, it's got dents, it's not going all that fast, it's just the most fuct up car in that stretch of freeway. And you look at it, and you go, "Man, what poor motherfucker has to drive that thing?"

I am that poor motherfucker. My car, Bob Racecar Bob, is that car.

Bob has two new tricks, lately. The first one is that the driver's seatbelt now sticks, so when I want to unbuckle I have to sit there for ten minutes and wiggle it around and pull on it. The second one is that every time I get going over around fifty, it starts moaning like a whore fucking a senator. This is in addition to a random squeak that appears well, randomly, but mostly when I start the car, back up, or go over a bump.

Bob's been a good first car. I like to think the primer colored driver's side door gives him a certain sense of personality. Unlike most cars, in Bob's case the bumper stickers are actually raising his retail value. And most importantly, if I hit something, I've got a pretty good chance of banging a dent out.

I just hope he doesn't explode and kill me before I move.

Have I Mentioned

That the dog I'm taking care of (whose name is Maggie) not only has three legs, but also has bad hips? Which means that I have to carry her upstairs and up hills, and pick her up to put her in the car. She is not a small dog. She is a large dog. If Dog Lifting ever becomes an Olympic Event, I'll be there.

Worker Bee

I templated a stair handrail this morning.

Yes, that's right, I'm this charming and talented, and I can template stairs. Aren't you just swooning?

Bad Morning

I woke up at 6:30 this morning, because the parrot would not stop hollering at me. By the time I got up and fed it, the dog had joined the mix and was whimpering. So I fed the dog. Then I discovered that the dog had shat all over the rug. So I went to back to bed, because I have a strict No Dog Shit Before Eight O' Clock policy. Unfortunately, the dog shit had NOT magically disapeared when I re-got out of bed, so I spent the first hour of my morning hosing dog shit out of a rug. Did I mention that it was all over the rug? And it was not friendly, easy to pick up dog shit, either.

I am ending this post now, for the good of us all.

Parrot Teacher

Yesterday, I was attempting to feed the vicious parrot I am watching some peanuts through the bars of its cage. I accidentally dropped one on the floor, and the parrot said, "Bad dog!"

Yes, that's right, I am currently being abused by animals.

Why I Could Never Be a TV Interviewer

Because the first time someone said something was "more funner," I would mock them until they cried.

Delightful

More of this sort of thing is exactly what this world needs.

Surreal

I am currently petsitting a three-legged dog and a vicious parrot.

We Should Not Be Allowed In Public

Characters: A Nameless Boy and I.
Setting: Outside a coffee shop.

Me: You're not allowed to do heroin until after your placement exam.
Him: You're going to call me everyday and be like, "Are you on H right now?" and if I say yes, you'll be like, "Take some Narcan!"
Me: Yep.
Him: You'll use that obnoxious baby voice. You'll be like, "What's the matter? Poor baby doesn't want to take Narcan because it'll put him into H withdrawl?"
Me: I'll be like, "Dude, does Narcan make your pussy hurt?"
Him: Then I'll hang up on you. I'll be like, "You know what would make my pussy feel real nice? Some heroin!"
pause
Him: So, can you tell that these benzos are fucking me up?

Corneal News

I went to the eye doctor today, and he said I have happy corneas.

I just thought that was exciting.

Cyn Goes to Disneyland: Behind the Music

Conversation with Neal on the way there, right after we got on the 91 Freeway.

Neal: You know, my driving style has really changed in the last four years. I'm really not sure how we're getting there all, I just know this freeway goes kind of towards Disneyland. Two years ago, I would have printed out all these maps and things the night before.
Me: I liked it better before you told me that.

Thoughts on Disneyland

• I quite like rollercoasters.
• I hate people. Especially people under 18.
• They should have a ride in AdventureLand called "Finding a Job." Before you got on, they'd ask if you'd ridden it before. If you hadn't, they wouldn't let you on.
• Punks are even cuter when they're at Disneyland.
• The Pirates of the Carribean is really long.
• That Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is a damn good ride.
• After five hours, my back hurt and my ankle hurt and I wanted to go home. I am old.
• I should not be allowed in front of children.
• The magic of Disneyland is really all about how anal retentive it is.

Why Must I Be Broke?

Words cannot express how much I want this.

Damn the man and their way too cool $55 bags!!!

Today, I . .

• Got up at six (not by choice, believe you me.)
• Worked from seven until one.
• Went to Disneyland!
• Ate at Denny's. I realized I haven't been to Denny's sober in a long time. Denny's is significantly less good when you aren't have trouble keeping upright.

Dude

I totally heart this site.

New Life

I've begun packing my books for the move. It's a bit fun to go through all of them and pick and choose. I am trying to bring only the books that I need. It seems very odd, that I cannot go anywhere without Love, Death, and the Changing of the Seasons, or all of A.S. Byatt and Francesca Lia Block, but that is the way things are. In fact, I can't find one of my Francesca Lia Block books right now, and I'm worried I shall have to buy another copy. It's not so much that I like these books, although I do, or that I want them. I need them, in that way that is different from wanting or liking. I have seperation anxiety about these books.

I'm only this way about some books, thank goodness. I've got about seven boxes of books I'm leaving here. I'm trying to cut down to just the very important ones. I've got two and a half boxes of must have books, but they're small boxes.

So True

From The Brunching Shuttlecock's Months' Ratings:

"Growing up in California, weather was something that happened to other people, like meteor strikes or cholera."

For the Love of All That's Holy

Do not mix vermouth, vodka, and cranberry juice.

Your stomach lining will thank me.

That is all.

Addendum: Above drink has proven very effective in killing bugs.

Conversation with the Parents

Mom: (cutely excited)We're going on a date to Home Depot!
Dad: Maybe we'll sit in the parking lot and neck!
Me: Don't do anything I wouldn't do!
Dad: Oh, I'm not worried about that.

I wonder if my neighbors have been talking.

Why Do We Need

the word gamer? I mean, the english language already contains the words, "huge loser."

How Cool Is That

From a Salon article on Lynn Breedlove:

"She founded Lickety Split Couriers, an all-girl bike messenging service, in 1991."

Lickety Split Couriers! Hee hee heeeeeee.

Gloom & Doom

I think my billion one line no content posts yesterday are a symptom of how bored and depressed I am. Every time I have a vaguelly interesting thought I blog it, because god knows nothing actually interesting happens to me ever.

I haven't been leaving the house lately, because all my friends are in different states. But there's a major remodel going on here, which means that my room has huge holes in it and all my possesions are covered in dust and everything's a god awful mess and it's noisey all the time. Plus it turns out that the bathroom subfloor was completely rotten and full of mold, and it's kicked my allergies into over drive and I can't breathe at all. I had the worst night in the world last night, I couldn't sleep and I couldn't breathe and then after I finally went to sleep I woke up at six because my sinuses had shut down, and finally I popped a handful of allergy meds and got a couple of hours sleep.

My job search is going nowhere fast, I don't know what to do. I have no idea how to look for a job, and I have no experience. I'm really kind of angry about the whole deal, too, since I have a 3.75 GPA from one of the top twenty-five small liberal arts schools in the country, and I've done two internships, and I've done all these tutoring and grading jobs, and I really just don't know what else to do. Plus I'm moving across the freaking country, and I have this apartment that I'm going to have to pay for, and I have no furniture and no car, and I'm kind of stressed out.

Being scared about my future and angry about this dumb ass remodel and bitter about having no friends and bored out of my skull is all combining into making me a complete bitch, which in turn is driving my parents nuts, and it's all just going into this hideous downward spiral when I'm cranky and resentful and angry all the time and everyone hates me.