It's The Tii-ime Of The See-eas-son For Hai-ting

1. Blarg, it is warm around here. I have touched on how the heat affects my outlook (and output) before and am realizing I will probably do this every summer as long as I keep up this blog and live in Sacramento. The heat is pretty much my main enemy. It is seemingly out to thwart me at all turns and thus I must avenge it through my undying and public hatred. As a result of this hatred of the heat I also hate everything else that I see, taste, touch and am aware of in any way because the temperature is making everything lame. Those fragrant flowers blooming next to the scorching sidewalk? I hate them and their heady, droop-in-the-summer-afternoon stench. My windows which so pleasantly let in the spring breeze and and flickering sun spots through the branches of the trees a few months ago? Now they act as a fucking magnifying glass or some shit, letting the sun bore holes through my body and soul with laser precision. I am freaking swiss cheese over here. I sweatily flop around at night, intermittently getting a few moments of sleep here and there only to discover that dreams when you are overheated are inherently creepy/stressful and make absolutely no sense (even more so than my regularly broadcasted WTF dreams). Proof positive that the temperature is boiling my brain. You can't argue with science, folks.

So, what else is happening besides me feeling as though the sun's rays are oppressing me like Omar al-Bashir does the Sudanese. What, too much? WELL YOU ALL KNOW I AM PRONE TO EXAGGERATION AND AM GRUMPY AS ALL GET-OUT so just deal with it.

2. I mentioned some time ago that I was applying for THE JOB OF MY DREAMS and that I had inside operatives working in my favor on this here blog, however, that position passed me by. Dropped my ass. Left me for dead. The organization didn't even call me back to say they had moved on. Hell, that job treated me like a cheap hooker. Gave me the briefest of attention when it suited and then tossed me aside with not even a thank you tip. BUT I AM A HOOKER WITH A HEART OF GOLD and this is not how this movie is supposed to end... /sniff sniff

Turns out the universe wants to maybe provide for me in other ways. The job I am interviewing for now puts "THE JOB OF MY DREAMS" to shame. I am not sure how to discuss this new opportunity and my gut says to leave all details out besides the small note that I really, really want this job and would so rock at doing it. And that I made it to the second round of interviews. (!!!!!)

I have been unemployed for 6 months, people. Working my ass off for free for most of that time and praying it pays off. I am not too strong with the "I deserve this good thing because of my various forms of energy dedicated/suffering/etc" statements, but dude, I deserve this job for more reasons I care to count.

NO PRESSURE COSMOS.

3. So this boyfriend of mine is pretty much crazy awesome and not only did he buy me flowers and wine for simply completing the first interview, but he has let me borrow his Season 1 and 2 box set of "Moonlighting" starring Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis. So this is what love feels like... I had no idea.

4. Anyone want to come up with ideas for me to blog about? Like questions I should answer that would likely lead to me revealing some embarrassing story about my past or topics you are just dying to have my opinion on? I feel I am struggling to stay in "blogging mode", but I really do want to keep this thing fun and frequent(er). You can comment or email me with ideas. Or Facebook me. Or Twitter me.

Clearly, I need more ways to stay in contact with you all.

Ms. Fat Booty And Other Ruminations

It's been awhile so I am getting numerical on your ass. And mine:

1. I never had what one would call a big butt. It will never be said by Mos Def about me "ass so big you can see it from the front" (which in his song "Ms. Fat Booty" is very much a compliment). It will likely never be said by anyone. I am okay with this. However, for most of my teen and early college years I such a small tush, that its lack of "ba-dow!" was commented on occasionally (I swear, there is no such thing as a girl just being in her body comfortably). I am pretty sure no one actually thought is was anything but part of the range you get in a high school of 1600 and then a university of 3000, but I was aware. My tookus was small. Too small. The Grinch's heart size if you had asked me then.

And then I discovered beer.

It was the best of times, it was the, etc. Much beer was consumed (in particular my senior year of college) and suddenly my jeans never, ever felt loose in the caboose. Beer is the reason that I have been told I have "a happy handful", that I should "swing that thang, girl" and that my "booty could make a grown man cry". Beer is the reason for the season, as far as I am concerned January through December regardless of it's hoppy effect on my ass, but I am finally, FINALLY embracing this part of my body. Yes, it is about 6 years after its arrival, but HEY IT'S HARD OUT THERE FOR US LADIES what with practically perfect starlets and the media and snarky high-schoolers.

So even on days like today when I stick my tongue out at the scale because the number is not quite the one I want to see, I pat my hindquarters affectionately and whisper, "It's okay. I'd rather you be here than not. Also, I love beer too much."

2. Where have I been for the past month?

(Source)

I don't know entirely, but clearly not here. Internship, music, romance, friends, and food cover the basics. Tarot card readings, peanut-butter obsession, de-furring my work clothes of cat hair, trying different deodorants, walking with purpose somedays and with an aimless wonder others, getting blisters on my feet, cooking dinners with my partner, playing cowbell and ukulele, learning as much as possible about the California State Legislative process and Communications in a short period of time... Okay, look a bunch of stuff. Whatever. Point is, I am happily posting this blurb and maybe, just maybe another one soon. CRAZY, I KNOW.

I missed you.

3. Can we talk about food obsessions for a moment? I don't care, we are going to. My cravings have always been intense affairs that last anywhere from one meal to years upon years. Currently I am under the sway of oysters and/or muscles, garlic (like burning your mouth, people the next day know what you had for dinner last night strength), granola, peanut-butter, olives, and bok choy (oh god, just say "bok choy" a couple of times. Don't you love it and want to eat it now too!?!? Isn't my emphatic excitement about bok choy just a little too much!?! Isn't it starting to creep you out?!! WHOOOOOOO!!) something fierce lately. In fact, the last three items were my dinner tonight. Farmer's Market baby bok choy (with garlic, duh), half of a large can of black olives and two spoonfuls of peanut-butter. Not mixed together, but it did occur to me to try that. It is a kind of satiated that I know won't last as I will crave another fix soon, but damn if it don't feel goooood right now.

4. Quotes from people I have encountered while walking around downtown Sacto:

• Homeless Dude #1: (getting all up in Homeless Dude #2's face) DON'T TELL ME THE SHIT YOU DIDN'T DO!

A group of homeless people were grilling some food in an alcove of a church courtyard and apparently SHIT WENT DOWN and HD#1 wasn't having it. Perhaps the meat was not ready according to him, but HD#2 decided it was time to eat? Whatever it was, the quote has stuck in my head for well over a month now. I can't wait to use it.

• Stateworker(?): (on mobile phone) ... She be trifling too damn much. She ain't no thang. You know what? She's small time. I ain't no small time bitch so I ain't gonna play, but she better watch her ass. Oooh yes, she better WATCH.

It is possible that I was terrified of this woman along with completely impressed. I am pretty certain she would cut a bitch and not give it a second thought.

5. Pictures for the laughing:

This kid is feeling it. "And I need you nooow tonight, and I need you mooore than ever!"

That which has been seen cannot be unseen.

Platypus Keytar. Hmmm yes, it all makes sense now and I can die happy.