Lateshoes

Maybe it’s hormones or maybe it’s the fact that the sky has been pissing snow on my head for like, I don’t know 6 million days…or maybe the piss-snow has acid in it that’s rotting my brain – whatever the cause – I am really and truly in a state of utter bat-shit right now.

I’ve been butterfingers and impulsive and more than that – the winds of irony are really not amused with my routine.

So, The Dent – remember “the dent” on my Macbook that nearly drove me to run an ice pick up my nose? Well…4 things -

1. Last night I finally summoned the will to photograph the deformity. I took a million lovely pictures and only whimpered a few times.

2. I ordered a pretty and red hard shell case so that nothing like “the dent” would ever happen again.

3. Pretty red case arrived this morning while I was at work.

4. In a moment of utter craziness, I decided that the very minor kernel panic problem I’ve been having had to fixed immediately – so, on my lunch break I popped the Macbook Pro into it’s joke 0f a neoprene case to take it to Macdocs and before I could get it all the way into my bag, it slipped from my butterfingers onto my desk. I thought, it’s only a few inches I mean what could possibly….? GAH! Huge, enormous, gnarly bend on the bottom case near the vents!!!! Painfully, gnarly. With the new hard case, sitting at home!!

Deep breaths.

I called Apple and very, um… politely explained to them that the next time they design a 2000 dollar computer they might want to use materials a little sturdier than my recycled Diet Coke cans.

4 things that I am passionate about:
1. “Sticking it” to “the man”
2. making my house a “home”
3. my family- and yes, this includes my animals
4. exploring, expressing – being creative
*bonus* 5. Getting a haircut!!

4 things I want to do before I die:
1. Have a cool kid, raise it right and watch it take over the world.

2. Make tons of money as a consultant – work on my own terms and did I mention make tons of money?

3. It’s a toss up between write some books or create a magazine. Why not both?

4. Be completely comfortable in my own skin. Is that answer hormonal enough for you?

4 books that I have read recently:
1. No One Belongs Here More than You

2. Middlesex

3. Full Frontal Feminism

4. and the best answer ever — The South Beach Diet (only slightly embarrassing)

4 things I often say:
1. No way!
2. I can’t eat that.
3. Holy shitballs!
4. Dude

Yeah, I usually sound pretty smart when I talk.

4 things that attract me to friends:
1. Hot boobs
2. compassion/ friendliness
3. lack of drama
4. funniness

4 songs or albums that I could listen to over and over again:
1. Ballad of Human Kindness / The Dears
2. The State that I am in/ Belle & Sebastian
3. Strangers/ The Kinks
4. So nice so smart/ Kimya Dawson

4 things you might not know about me:
1. I’ve become psychotically competitive at work
2. I love grocery shopping
3. I really don’t have a preference between Coke or Pepsi products
4. I don’t know who I’m going to vote for yet in the primary. Sigh

Let me ask you something? When George Lucas changed history and gave Boba Fett lines in Empire Strikes Back Why didn’t we stone him?*Update*I realized later that he actually does have lines, just not that accent. There was just something so mindfucking about hearing Flight of the Concords coming out of Boba Fett’s head that I completely misremembered the whole movie. My apologies.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a897FGgDJy8&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a897FGgDJy8&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zDl8g0ZQLdY&rel=1] Why didn’t we drag him into the street and beat the shit out of him? Huh?

You may or may not know by now that I’m completely crazy – and if this is news to you then sit down my friend and let me explain. About 90 (or so) percent of the time I’m decently capable of keeping my “shit” together – but, the other 10 percent? Flippin’ nuts.

One of my more, let’s call them quirky personality ticks is something called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Though I’ve never been properly diagnosed, there is no denying it. Everything in my world has its place – its place according to me. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to you that that book looks fine there – if it doesn’t make sense to me- my brain completely rejects it and I won’t stop thinking about it – I won’t rest until that book is EXACTLY where I need it to be. Sigh.

So, this morning when I took my laptop out of its case to find a nice (okay small) DENT on the lid – my motherfuckin’ crazy level shot up to eleven.

In the middle of the night last night, I woke up to find Io sitting on top of my computer (inside its case) so, I shewed her off and she jumped with all of her fatassitude off and onto the ground – leaving behind a small-ish, but very noticeable dent in my three week old laptop.

When I first noticed it, I immediately broke into a sweat, feverishly looking for some easy fix to my dilemma. Surely, it can’t be that hard. I mean something that can happen so easily to such a costly machine has to be just as easy to fix, right? You would think. But, no. Dent pullers won’t do the trick, you can try removing the lid but you run the risk of destroying your display – you can’t just replace the lid because it’s actually fused with an epoxy to the LED components (or something – I have no idea), so unless you want to replace the whole shebang (a whopping 800 bucks) you are out of luck. More sweating.

I don’t think I heard a word anyone said to me all day. The stupid dent was all. I. could. think. about. Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeent. There’s a dent. My beautiful, my precious….was… blemished, marred, scarred, bruised and forever marked like the girl who gets knocked up in Junior High.

How could Apple be so careless, I thought. Didn’t they know this would happen? Why didn’t they make me get one of those hard cases? Why didn’t they tell me I should sell my cat?

After many hours of unsuccessfully trying to massage, pull, clean and wish the dent away – I finally gave up, resigned to the fact that I would forever (or at least for a long while) be attached to this imperfect, banged up crackbook. I would have to answer questions.

“Oh, how did THAT happen?”

I would worry that if I ever have any hardware problems in the future, Apple would no doubt point to the scar and say, “Oh! No way, lady – it looks like you’ve played baseball with this.”

Ugh.

This little dent (pictures forthcoming – when I can bare it) had broken my heart and I was as obsessed as I’ve even been with any boy or band or film. I kept searching the internet and making frantic phone calls well after I understood it was useless.

I even prayed. I prayed for a cosmetic dent on my laptop! It was more a prayer for myself in the end, but still.

How could something so small destroy my entire universe for hours? Why do things like this get so far under my skin? I mean, other people would be mildly annoyed, realize it’s something that’s bound to happen and then get over it. Of course “other people” also watch According to Jim, so what do they know?

It took 6 hours and three episodes of The Wire for me to pull the damn thing out and type on it. But, now that I am, I realize that what I love about this computer isn’t just its beauty and design, it’s this. I get to type and tell my story. I get to read the stories of my friends and I get to connect with people I love. Okay, don’t tell anyone I said that.

Just as a sidenote though, while I’m like coming to terms and all – Steve Jobs, if you ever want to hook an OCD sister up with a new lid that would be really cool, right? Ya feel me?

Not that I’m still obsessing.

What?

Update: Pictures of the stupid dent!

I’ve been waking up kind of unnaturally early lately and I’ve finally figured out why – God wanted me to see this and testify to its satanic powers of hate and stupidity. And now, thanks to the infinite and glorious powers of Tivo, I share it with you, my brothers and sisters. Behold the almighty power of the Fox News morning team – in all their glory, on the day of a major presidential primary. Watch and listen as they bestow upon you great truths and words of wisdom. Enjoy.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLGyNJgxTRc&rel=1]

I’ve eaten more Sugar-free Jello in the past week than any sort of regular Jello in like my whole life – and what I’ve decided is this: horse hooves or no – it has become my own personal Southbeachized Ambrosia.

I don’t mind skipping french fries or saying, “no thanks” when good friends offer me baklava– so long as my trusty Cherry Jello will be waiting for me at home.

Luckily this is not my only dietary delight – Last night I made a creamy ricotta/vanilla “thing” that was almost like melted ice cream. So there.

I’ve finally reached the phase of determination where, despite all obstacles I’m sticking to the this stupid thing.

For example: I had lunch with my boss and co-worker at the University cafeteria. I didn’t anticipate there being much of a problem…because – hello! it’s a smörgåsbords! I mean, surely there has to be something I can eat.

Hm. How about vegetable soup, I thought. But, the committed, little food fascist that I am decided to read the nutritional information posted above the caldron. 45g of carbs per serving…and…and High Fructose Corn Syrup. IN SOUP. In vegetable soup…at a college. Moms and dads – they’re poisoning your children here.

So, no soup. Hm. Hm.

I started to get kind of embarrassed at how long it was taking me to find something suitable…ya know, you can only act so jumpy and finicky before people start asking questions and then…dread of all dreads you might have to explain yourself and say, “Oh, yeah – I’m on a diiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeetttttttt.” And your face would go all red and they’d be embarrassed and feel the need to say something like, “Oh, really? Well…” because they don’t want to say you don’t actually need one, because you do…so they’d panic more and try to make conversation about all of the diets they’ve ever been on and then you’d freak out because you know you’re a fatty and they know you’re a fatty and you’d know that they know you’re a fatty and now you’re discussing it…like, in public and GAH!

So anyway, I went through my mental checklist at lightening speed: Sandwich? No. Wrap? No. Donut? No. Chinese food? No. Salad? Eh.

I finally grabbed a pre-packaged chicken Ceasar salad, some oil & vinegar, a spoonful of cottage cheese and a bottle of water. Schwoo. Food crisis averted.

You guys, it would not be an exaggeration to tell you I was sweating my lady balls off during the whole ordeal. The mental energy it takes to not eat a garbage dump worth of shit is so much more taxing than most realize.

Technically, it’s not next month yet, but if I had to look at that brown, turd of a masthead any longer – I would have puked all over the keyboard.

I’m still not %100 satisfied – but, for now (it’s 1am) it will do. Woot. I hope you enjoy. Maybe now that I’m no longer nauseated, I’ll actually write some real content for a change. HA!

But, not for the reason you might think – the “diet” is going pretty fine actually – BUT!!! The second half of Prime Suspect 2 – Disc 2 WON’T PLAY! Buh buh buhhhht…?!?!?!

Oh Netflix – please send a replacement soon. I may freak right out. I’m a woman without carbs, Netflix. Do what you can.

Here let’s meditate upon the culprits who pulled the disc out of the mail with their teeth when it arrived (Err – I mean, it was like that when we got it, Netflix – I swear).

Today – I started the um, South Beach diet – eh hem…*COUGH* – again.

Don’t laugh, assholes!

I’ve got certain baby-shaped goals and for whatever reason my body does not want to make one for me. Tuesday I went to a fertility doctor and she gave me two courses of action – 1. dose up and potentially get knocked up with 15 babies at once or 2. lose weight, try again, see what happens and then reevaluate. I chose option two. Not because I’m totally against dosing – I just thought, well – losing some weight wouldn’t be that bad and I’ve been wanting/ meaning to anyway. And so, yeah – South Beach.

It’s the diet she recommended and I agreed since it worked for me before. I tried it the first time the summer before our wedding and while it was mildly brutal for the fist two weeks, the subsequent “phases” are reasonable, well balanced and something (if I hadn’t punked out) I could have really maintained.

Of course, I didn’t and here I am – bigger than I’ve ever been and after taking my measurements this evening- faced with the harshest reality that I am not currently my fly-est self.

So, in honor of my commitment to future, forever- fierce-i-ocity and baby-having, I’ve chosen a theme – my very own Eye of the Tiger, my “gettin’ in shape & eatin’ right” movie montage music – it’s called, Kill that Fuckin’ Bear and it’s by Gene Defcon.

Can’t you just picture me sweating on a treadmill, crankily eating salad, running the high school track in a light, gray sweat-set to the this song?