I know this is a horrid subject to broach particularly since my blog has been so quiet lately (in case you hadn't noticed it's the Holidays).
I'm on my bus heading home after a long and productive day (hi Matthew). As I was waiting for it to arrive I glanced down to discover a used tampon. Its cotton was split to reveal its contents and its string was flickering in the wind created by oncoming traffic.
I'm no naieve. I've seen tampons at various stages of wear, however what puzzles me in this case is under what circumstances did this particular specimen end up at the bus stop? What opportunity arose for the wearer to remove and discard it in such a public venue? What a brazen act of conspicuous exhibitionism.
Monday, December 20, 2004
Monday, December 06, 2004
Wigs & Cigs
One of my favorite lines was when James told me that I'd have more money if I didn't blow it all on wigs and cigarettes.
So of course I immediately registered www.wigsandcigs.com. It's sat around for over a year and has probably expired. I never knew what to do with it. I was thinking of a Tragedy Barbie retrospective but that's too obvious. Perhaps it should just have been an eCommerce site that sold, well, wigs and cigarettes?
So of course I immediately registered www.wigsandcigs.com. It's sat around for over a year and has probably expired. I never knew what to do with it. I was thinking of a Tragedy Barbie retrospective but that's too obvious. Perhaps it should just have been an eCommerce site that sold, well, wigs and cigarettes?
BR: Cigarettes & a Slim Jim
I know it has been a while since I gave a bus report. Today however I'd like to give more of a payphone report.
I remember when payphones were fun. My best friend Paul and I used to run around and collect the phone numbers so we could call them and talk to random people. They also served to satisfy our teenage phone fixations when not at home. Then came the mobile phone.
Basically today if you don't have a mobile phone you're either out of work and/or homeless. It used to be that you were hot shit if you had a "car phone" but now practically everyone has one. It was the calling card of the priveleged. So what has become the unlikely victim of this? The payphone.
There are two payphones at the park and ride where I catch the bus in the morning. Sometimes I see someone slouched over whispering into the mouthpiece. I can only imagine the conversation.
Today I glanced over at the phone and noticed the wrappings from an Albertson's brand package of string cheese and a partially eaten Slim Jim. Truly brain food. There was also an empty carton of some off-brand of cigarettes with a non-descript logo of some kind on it.
These items tell the story of bad hair, trailer courts, teenage pregnancies and phone calls made to parole officers. Even the drug dealers don't use payphones anymore. They are truly the bastion of low end living.
But sometimes you have to stop intellectualizing, and get back on the bus.
Today it's mostly regulars: 80's Jacket Guy (you know, high-waist cinched cut herringbone wool blend with oversized buttons and double pointed lapels), shorts guy, and crispy-haired blonde girl. No, not Brenda... But another that I'd like you to get to know today. Let's call her Katrina. Katrina gets off the bus in front of the Gene Juarez school of beauty and though I've never seen her go in I imagine that's her ultimate destination.
Katrina has long waist length bottle-blonde hair: crispy on top, stringy on the bottom. Kind of like baked spaghetti. If she indeed does attend Gene Juarez beauty school then she must have been absent the day they taught creme rinse.
She also enjoys the rouging brush, though not before she prepares her canvas with fingers coated in drugstore brand base.
We've moved past our last pickup spot and the bus is now full - with windows moistening from the exhale of so many bus patrons. In many ways a bus is like a payphone: public, carriers of disease. But again, you have to stop intellectualizing.
I remember when payphones were fun. My best friend Paul and I used to run around and collect the phone numbers so we could call them and talk to random people. They also served to satisfy our teenage phone fixations when not at home. Then came the mobile phone.
Basically today if you don't have a mobile phone you're either out of work and/or homeless. It used to be that you were hot shit if you had a "car phone" but now practically everyone has one. It was the calling card of the priveleged. So what has become the unlikely victim of this? The payphone.
There are two payphones at the park and ride where I catch the bus in the morning. Sometimes I see someone slouched over whispering into the mouthpiece. I can only imagine the conversation.
Today I glanced over at the phone and noticed the wrappings from an Albertson's brand package of string cheese and a partially eaten Slim Jim. Truly brain food. There was also an empty carton of some off-brand of cigarettes with a non-descript logo of some kind on it.
These items tell the story of bad hair, trailer courts, teenage pregnancies and phone calls made to parole officers. Even the drug dealers don't use payphones anymore. They are truly the bastion of low end living.
But sometimes you have to stop intellectualizing, and get back on the bus.
Today it's mostly regulars: 80's Jacket Guy (you know, high-waist cinched cut herringbone wool blend with oversized buttons and double pointed lapels), shorts guy, and crispy-haired blonde girl. No, not Brenda... But another that I'd like you to get to know today. Let's call her Katrina. Katrina gets off the bus in front of the Gene Juarez school of beauty and though I've never seen her go in I imagine that's her ultimate destination.
Katrina has long waist length bottle-blonde hair: crispy on top, stringy on the bottom. Kind of like baked spaghetti. If she indeed does attend Gene Juarez beauty school then she must have been absent the day they taught creme rinse.
She also enjoys the rouging brush, though not before she prepares her canvas with fingers coated in drugstore brand base.
We've moved past our last pickup spot and the bus is now full - with windows moistening from the exhale of so many bus patrons. In many ways a bus is like a payphone: public, carriers of disease. But again, you have to stop intellectualizing.
4th Anniversary
Today is my 4th anniversary at Vulcan. The time has gone by so fast... it seems like yesterday that I had my interviews in Bellevue. It's been a great experience...
Christmas Lites Gone Wild
People have apparently gone mad with decorating for Christmas. I know I have a rather large number of lights on my property but computerized lights?
I'm either apalled or I have to get them for next year.
More Info
***UPDATE**** OK, so this was found to be a hoax. What a big bag of X-Mas bullshit.
I'm either apalled or I have to get them for next year.
More Info
***UPDATE**** OK, so this was found to be a hoax. What a big bag of X-Mas bullshit.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Holiday Gala / Blood Orange Martinis / A Broken Shoe
Last night was the Vulcan Holiday party. EMP was closed to the public so us Vulcanites can 'get down'. The theme was "Brasilian Carnivale" - and decorated masks were encouraged. My mask was a chandelier complete with crystal dingle-dangles and lights. It was the talk of the evening. I think I had 50 people take pictures and countless questions about how it was done and where the power source was. That was my little secret.
The mask was an awefully heavy mantle of glamour to uphold, but I did it. I turned out the glamour as I do over and over, again and again. It's a thankless job but if not me, then who?
The party was good with good music. I was really impressed with Paul Allen and the Barber Shop Boys... they really rocked! The food was very good too, or so I was told - I didn't eat anything except for a smoked scallop dipped in fennel horseradish (yum). I wasn't very hungry for some reason last night. I also made a conscious decision not to drink at my company party. It was a wise move. There were others who were a little too full of spirit(s) and were teetering on the brink of a CLM.
Of course, the group I was with insisted that I imbibe. Apparently I am only fun when I'm drunk. So I had one cocktail: a fantastic lemon drop martini. It was delicious.
After hanging out and then going through the Sci Fi museum, we all decided to head out to Chapel on Capital Hill. As I was told it was time for me to catch up - and start the "Daniel & Karla Show". The gang was Del & I, Owyn & Steph, Matthew & Erin, Shane & Viv, Karla & Ron, and Dennis & Barb. Chris almost went but I think Beth was a little tired so they passed.
Chapel was crowded but we found a nice table that originally sat only 4 until we poached enough chairs as people stood up and another table to make a nice long table where we all fit. And so it began...
I started with a "Skinny Black Bitch" (Vodka & Diet Coke) which was certain to get me on the road to merrymaking. Then I was turned on to the Martini menu. I went through a few (including a delicious Pear martini) until I came upon my absolutely favorite new Martini: The Blood Orange.
The Blood Orange Martini was to die for; delicious like candy. I am not sure how many I had but the bill was over $100. I was smashed.
In the course of a few hours I managed to behave badly and engage in various scandalous acts. Because I don't kiss and tell I'll leave this to your imagination.
Chapel had last call and closed, and we decided it was time to continue the evening at Neighbors as they were open until 4. Shane drove Karla and I but before we got out of the parking lot, I called this guy & girl over to the window of the car. I don't remember much about what I said but I do remember the guy leaning into the car and kissing me multiple times. I hope he was cute!
We got to Neighbors and I was completely confused as we were in an alley. I'd always gone into Neighbors through the front but this of course led the way to many cute puns about "entering in the rear". There must have been 100 people out there waiting. I engaged in a very nice discussion with a 6' tall tranny. It was then that Viv and I decided that we needed to scratch Neighbors and head straight to the "Wall of Dildoes". We'd talked about it earlier in the evening... Viv had never been (I think Shane was nervous) and wanted to perhaps find a new "friend".
The "Wall of Dildoes" is actually the Castle Superstore, home of every type of sex toy and porno media of all types. It's sort of a tradition for Karla, Ron, Del and I to go when we go out downtown - but this was the time for an entourage.
Shane, Karla and I got there first. We were hanging out in the parking lot... I was spinning and dancing around (not the power move) and then Karla decided she needed to throw up. There's something about being in the parking lot of the big porn emporium at 3am throwing up. Now that's hard core.
The rest of the gang arrived and we went inside. I came upon a tiny 3" dildo that cracked my shit up - so I carried it around and laughed and laughed; knocking things over along the way. Which brings me to the broken shoe.
A few months ago I was in Denver for an important meeting and the entire trip was a fiasco. It started at the airport in Seattle and ended, well, at the airport again - back in Seattle. Nothing went right - but the coupe de gras was when the only pair of shoes I had BROKE the night before the big meeting. It was almost comical.
I made it through the meeting (I walked very carefully) and was determined to take them back to Nordstrom's for a replacement. Well, I forgot about them and realized I didn't have any black loafers to wear to the party the night before. This was a job for hot glue!
I'd used so much hot glue on my mask I had practically become a pro. I carefully glued the rubber sole to the leather upper and it appeared to be the perfect fix. Perhaps it would have been had it not undergone so much abuse that evening.
So there I was flopping around at the Wall of Dildoes with a bastard shoe. I didn't care... I was drunk and sassy and trying to find the perfect vibrator. Well, everything was good until the entire sole came off and I was left with some sort of Fred Astaire soft-shoe number. Del collected the remains of my shoe and we departed. I will never buy Kenneth Coles again.
Ron drove the four of us home... Karla was sacked out in the back seat with Del while I sang Christmas carols and molested Ron. Ron dropped us off at our house and took the Bimmer home. It's still there... we'll get it tonight after Del gets back from work.
So that was our evening. A smoked scallop and an attitude.
The mask was an awefully heavy mantle of glamour to uphold, but I did it. I turned out the glamour as I do over and over, again and again. It's a thankless job but if not me, then who?
The party was good with good music. I was really impressed with Paul Allen and the Barber Shop Boys... they really rocked! The food was very good too, or so I was told - I didn't eat anything except for a smoked scallop dipped in fennel horseradish (yum). I wasn't very hungry for some reason last night. I also made a conscious decision not to drink at my company party. It was a wise move. There were others who were a little too full of spirit(s) and were teetering on the brink of a CLM.
Of course, the group I was with insisted that I imbibe. Apparently I am only fun when I'm drunk. So I had one cocktail: a fantastic lemon drop martini. It was delicious.
After hanging out and then going through the Sci Fi museum, we all decided to head out to Chapel on Capital Hill. As I was told it was time for me to catch up - and start the "Daniel & Karla Show". The gang was Del & I, Owyn & Steph, Matthew & Erin, Shane & Viv, Karla & Ron, and Dennis & Barb. Chris almost went but I think Beth was a little tired so they passed.
Chapel was crowded but we found a nice table that originally sat only 4 until we poached enough chairs as people stood up and another table to make a nice long table where we all fit. And so it began...
I started with a "Skinny Black Bitch" (Vodka & Diet Coke) which was certain to get me on the road to merrymaking. Then I was turned on to the Martini menu. I went through a few (including a delicious Pear martini) until I came upon my absolutely favorite new Martini: The Blood Orange.
The Blood Orange Martini was to die for; delicious like candy. I am not sure how many I had but the bill was over $100. I was smashed.
In the course of a few hours I managed to behave badly and engage in various scandalous acts. Because I don't kiss and tell I'll leave this to your imagination.
Chapel had last call and closed, and we decided it was time to continue the evening at Neighbors as they were open until 4. Shane drove Karla and I but before we got out of the parking lot, I called this guy & girl over to the window of the car. I don't remember much about what I said but I do remember the guy leaning into the car and kissing me multiple times. I hope he was cute!
We got to Neighbors and I was completely confused as we were in an alley. I'd always gone into Neighbors through the front but this of course led the way to many cute puns about "entering in the rear". There must have been 100 people out there waiting. I engaged in a very nice discussion with a 6' tall tranny. It was then that Viv and I decided that we needed to scratch Neighbors and head straight to the "Wall of Dildoes". We'd talked about it earlier in the evening... Viv had never been (I think Shane was nervous) and wanted to perhaps find a new "friend".
The "Wall of Dildoes" is actually the Castle Superstore, home of every type of sex toy and porno media of all types. It's sort of a tradition for Karla, Ron, Del and I to go when we go out downtown - but this was the time for an entourage.
Shane, Karla and I got there first. We were hanging out in the parking lot... I was spinning and dancing around (not the power move) and then Karla decided she needed to throw up. There's something about being in the parking lot of the big porn emporium at 3am throwing up. Now that's hard core.
The rest of the gang arrived and we went inside. I came upon a tiny 3" dildo that cracked my shit up - so I carried it around and laughed and laughed; knocking things over along the way. Which brings me to the broken shoe.
A few months ago I was in Denver for an important meeting and the entire trip was a fiasco. It started at the airport in Seattle and ended, well, at the airport again - back in Seattle. Nothing went right - but the coupe de gras was when the only pair of shoes I had BROKE the night before the big meeting. It was almost comical.
I made it through the meeting (I walked very carefully) and was determined to take them back to Nordstrom's for a replacement. Well, I forgot about them and realized I didn't have any black loafers to wear to the party the night before. This was a job for hot glue!
I'd used so much hot glue on my mask I had practically become a pro. I carefully glued the rubber sole to the leather upper and it appeared to be the perfect fix. Perhaps it would have been had it not undergone so much abuse that evening.
So there I was flopping around at the Wall of Dildoes with a bastard shoe. I didn't care... I was drunk and sassy and trying to find the perfect vibrator. Well, everything was good until the entire sole came off and I was left with some sort of Fred Astaire soft-shoe number. Del collected the remains of my shoe and we departed. I will never buy Kenneth Coles again.
Ron drove the four of us home... Karla was sacked out in the back seat with Del while I sang Christmas carols and molested Ron. Ron dropped us off at our house and took the Bimmer home. It's still there... we'll get it tonight after Del gets back from work.
So that was our evening. A smoked scallop and an attitude.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Needle Hands
Thanksgiving has come and gone, the Christmas Tree is up, and the house is decorated inside and out with thousands of white lights. I'm starting to get in the holiday spirit.
I have been bitched at for not posting anything to the blog lately... I've been busy with all of the holiday preparations: decorating, get-togethers, and needles being stuck in my hands.
On Monday I was diagnosed with a hand condition commonly referred to as "Trigger Finger". The first treatment is cortizone (steroid) injections into the affected joints. Lucky me, I got the Trigger Finger in both hands at the same time.
Early this morning I went in and met with Dr. Kim, an orthopedic hand doctor/surgeon. After discussing the pain and symptoms with him, he agreed with the initial doctor's diagnosis and proceeded to tell me about the injection procedure: the injections would hurt, my hands would be numb for a few hours, and I may feel relief from the condition in a few days. If this does not work, I must have surgery.
So, he marked two spots with an "X" on the inside of each hand - where my middle fingers meet the palm - and then cleaned them with an iodyne solution. He then proceeded to hold each hand down (while I looked away an clinched the other) and inserted the needle past the flesh and into the joint area. At first it was a sharp prick but then the pain felt deeper; it shot right up my arm. It was almost electric. Then the same was repeated on the other hand.
Two bandaids and I was done. My middle fingers were fat (fatter than usual I should say) and somewhat swollen. The numbness then set in and continued until about an hour ago. I was very lethargic today and took a nap when I got home after the procedure.
So that was my excitement for the week. I'm praying this will work as I really don't care to have surgery on both my hands. As of this moment I don't really notice much of a difference in the joints.
I went to the mall tonight to find some slacks and a shirt for the Holiday party at EMP Saturday night. I love the shirt I got - it's very cool. I'm not sure if I'll wear a jacket or not. I will probably just wear my overcoat and then no jacket at all. I also went to Yankee Candles and got a "Christmas Wreath" candle for Jamie next door (he loves the smell of Christmas trees and this is one of the best!) and a "Christmas Eve" candle for myself. It smells like a mix of bayberry, cranberry, christmas cookies... I can't really describe it. I really like it though!
I have been bitched at for not posting anything to the blog lately... I've been busy with all of the holiday preparations: decorating, get-togethers, and needles being stuck in my hands.
On Monday I was diagnosed with a hand condition commonly referred to as "Trigger Finger". The first treatment is cortizone (steroid) injections into the affected joints. Lucky me, I got the Trigger Finger in both hands at the same time.
Early this morning I went in and met with Dr. Kim, an orthopedic hand doctor/surgeon. After discussing the pain and symptoms with him, he agreed with the initial doctor's diagnosis and proceeded to tell me about the injection procedure: the injections would hurt, my hands would be numb for a few hours, and I may feel relief from the condition in a few days. If this does not work, I must have surgery.
So, he marked two spots with an "X" on the inside of each hand - where my middle fingers meet the palm - and then cleaned them with an iodyne solution. He then proceeded to hold each hand down (while I looked away an clinched the other) and inserted the needle past the flesh and into the joint area. At first it was a sharp prick but then the pain felt deeper; it shot right up my arm. It was almost electric. Then the same was repeated on the other hand.
Two bandaids and I was done. My middle fingers were fat (fatter than usual I should say) and somewhat swollen. The numbness then set in and continued until about an hour ago. I was very lethargic today and took a nap when I got home after the procedure.
So that was my excitement for the week. I'm praying this will work as I really don't care to have surgery on both my hands. As of this moment I don't really notice much of a difference in the joints.
I went to the mall tonight to find some slacks and a shirt for the Holiday party at EMP Saturday night. I love the shirt I got - it's very cool. I'm not sure if I'll wear a jacket or not. I will probably just wear my overcoat and then no jacket at all. I also went to Yankee Candles and got a "Christmas Wreath" candle for Jamie next door (he loves the smell of Christmas trees and this is one of the best!) and a "Christmas Eve" candle for myself. It smells like a mix of bayberry, cranberry, christmas cookies... I can't really describe it. I really like it though!
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