A N N A J O H N ' S D I A R Y

no shame in my lame

i am THAT girl. 

i shamelessly swoon over "Love Actually" (seen it seven or eight times) when people cooler than me pooh-pooh it and NOW i'm finally watching "Shallow Hal" and i like it. it's on TV and I'm verklempt because "Hal" just saw little "Cadence" as she is for the first time.  i don't think that ref will ruin the movie for anyone who hasn't seen it. :)  the only thing i DON'T like is jason alexander's wig.  well, i don't like jason alexander, so that's not shocking...

SH is very cute.  i'm exhausted after a very draining, challenging day at work and i reeeeally want to take a nap, but i can't tear myself away from this improbably good little film.  i'm a music snob, and i think anyone who hasn't seen the Apu trilogy is underprivileged, but i don't mind my fluffy movies 't all, spank you much. 

 

december 22

i'm in DC, not CA.

like erasure sings, i won't be coming home for xmas.

as of monday, i have a new job which is ridiculously fun.

it is consuming me right now.

i don't mind any of the above.

it's been quite a week.

THAT i DO mind.

A N N A at BlogHer

jewlery-3
Originally uploaded by cambodia4kidsorg.

While doing a smidgen of background research for something I'm writing, I ended up on a blog which mentioned that "fashionable" geeks exist; it pointed to a flickr album of jewelry worn at Blogher. Electrified, I remembered posing for something similar. I opened a new tab, waited for Flickr to load...et voila. :)

I love finding happy little surprise gifts from the universe/google.

december 14, the omnibus edition

i keep meaning to post because there are so many comments/questions i need to answer, but there are also months (cue: shame spiral) of emails i'm behind on, so of course i made the BRILLIANT decision that if i sat in front of the computer, i would address those first.  sounded good in theory, but the execution...executed this diary 'o mine.  i'm still behind on GMails.  now, i've started to fire off replies immediately, whether i'm ready to or not, b/c i'm sick of starring everything and never getting back to it.  i know.  i am teh suck.

random things that i would've posted about had i actually been blogging recently:

=== i did get one of the FIRST tickets to see butterstick, the cutest resident of DC, BUT...BUT...this is me we're talking blogging about, so you know there had to be disappointment and heartbreak in the mix.  pacifically, little buttery baby was napping with his mummy, in an enclosure, during my allotted 15 minutes.  i strained to heroically take pictures of one of his ears for you.  and this leads us to our next tragedy.  despite taking 40 pictures of panda parts and the other, ignored animals who were actually viewable...when i plugged my NEW hottie one-gig card in my card-reader...

error.

sigh.  i lost all my pictures.  four hours in freezing temps and i had nothing to show for it, neither memories of ooey-gooey panda cuteness nor pictures of me gleefully waving my coveted panda viewing ticket.  sigh.  let's change my name to schlemiel and call it a day.  day.

=== my darling better-than-most-browns-gori andrea asked:

When did Depeche Mode suck?  Never, in my experience :)

well alluring andrea, apres Songs of Faith and Devotion, i stopped buying.  and listening.  i was so disgusted with "barrel of ass" or whatever it was, etc.  i fretted that losing alan wilder meant that DM was doomed to disintegrate.  the group i fell in love with, on a tinny portable radio in the mid '80s no longer sounded like themselves (or anyone else i'd care to listen to).  it got so bad, i put away my dozens of discs, records, 12"s etc.  listening to "behind the wheel/route66" depressed the shit out of me, (not a word out of you haters!) b/c i was morosely convinced they'd never sound so amazing again.  gawd, i'm so thrilled to be wrong.  "precious" gives me chills.  so do dave and martin, live, on a stage, singing like their concert at the rose bowl was yesterday.  swooooon.

=== brimful, under the same picture, quoted lyrics that she might also find on a certain flickr album.  synchronicity is sweet. :)

=== massively-missed maisnon, in response to my somewhat surprising postmodernist quiz results:

You are a Gender Nazi.  Your boundary-crossing
lifestyle inspires awe in your friends and
colleagues.  Or maybe they're just scared you
will kick their asses for using gender-specific
language.  Either way, the wife-beater helps.

typed the following

 

Dude, I don't think that fits you AT ALL.

(That pic is fabulously androgynous!)

admittedly, my eyebrows milimetered upwards when i saw that, but once i read the explanation again, it made sense, believe it or not. years ago, when veena first joined the air force and people kept addressing her as "airman" in my presence, she not-so-subtly kicked me in the shins b/c i kept muttering "airWOman" after each incorrectly gendered noun.  "shut UP," she hissed.  "no one is going to ever say that, so give it up."  to this day, i still write "airWOman" on her cards, which she receives while violently rolling those beautiful almondine eyes.  OTOH, when my father used to use the term-of-endearment "mon" instead of the feminine "mol" (think: beta/beti) for me, i was tickled b/c as he explained eaaaaarly on when i asked him, "i don't care if you are a boy or a girl.  'mon' is used for both". 

i do actually own something like 15 "A-tops", not that anyone is aware of this, since i wear them to work out or sleep.  i also REALLY have a problem with people referring to them as "Wife-beaters".  that bothers the shit out of me.  can't you just say tank top, you misogynist fuck?

=== this fiona apple quote that i posted brought me a tiny bit of comfort, during these days when i'm finding it difficult to write:

the times
when you're NOT writing
are just as important
as the times
when you are.
~ fiona apple

the times
when you're NOT writing
are just as important
as the times
when you are.
~ fiona apple

just can't get enough

in the lobby
Originally uploaded by suitablegirl.

caption: in the lobby of the gee-orgeous tempe mission hotel.

finally, pictures from the FANTASTIC depeche mode concert i went to in phoenix (11.25) are now on flickr. click above or anywhere on the blinky flickr badge to the left to peruse them, if you aren't already stalking my rss feed. ;)

i'm soooo glad that my belowed DM no longer SUCKS. w00t angst! third best concert, EVER.

i stole this from andrea, fyi

You are a Gender Nazi.  Your boundary-crossing
lifestyle inspires awe in your friends and
colleagues.  Or maybe they're just scared you
will kick their asses for using gender-specific
language.  Either way, the wife-beater helps.

What kind of postmodernist are you!?
brought to you by Quizilla

uttered on her first morning show ever, at 9:01 am

the times
when you're NOT writing
are just as important
as the times
when you are.
~ fiona apple

december 7

today is just plain anomalous.  i went to the penthouse gym at 5am and did chest+back AND cardio, while watching o'reilly and then anderson "pretty-boy" cooper.  that's just not me, it's not what i do.  however, i miss the lines on my abs and if for some reason i end up moving home, i will be naked far more often.  that's the thing about the right coast: you can go lax with the pedicures, leg-shaving and ab-torture b/c you're all bundled up for four mnonths.  in california?  not so much.  i came downstairs and ravenously devoured yesterday's bhindi with BROWN basmati rice/non-fat yogurt.  and thenga samanthi.  and red chili pickle.  yes, my tummy is burning, but it hurts so good, bitches. it's odd, i won't eat regular brown rice, but this organic basmati stuff ain't bad.

in other news, if you're dizzy from my back-and-forth geographic game of twister/musical cities, have pity on ME.  i'm living it.  i make my peace about DC for now, NYC for not-so-later and then something untenable happens...and i'm back to square one.  there's no point in making decisions, since i agonize for NOTHING, despite the fact that the universe is going to fuck with me no matter what. 

i'm really not this bitter.  hmmm, maybe i should've avoided posting for a few more days.

i'm half-tempted--probably b/c i've been bombarded with breathless teasers about it since i watch the news all night--to go to butterstick the baby panda's big debut today.

the spam gets tastier and tastier

oh, like YOU could resist these two...

From: wanthed <dsypgtwahfw@hotmail.com>

To: A N N A

Date: Dec 6, 2005 6:32 PM

Subject: Since you were a child you were thinking baby

Reply | Reply to all | Forward | Print | Add sender to Contacts list | Trash this message | Report phishing | Show original | Message text garbled?

Y0u gave up 0n having y0ur own baby and decided to ad0pt someones.
Did y0u know that ad0ptions can take a several years and cost a few th0usands dollars for a babies not even y0ur own?

Spermamax enlarges the quantity of spermatozoon gives you a better chance to make y0ur wife impregnant. Spermamax extremely impr0ves the quality of y0ur sperms so your babies looks like you!

i am immature, so i found this hilarious

From: brad <pervert@hotmail.com>

To: A N N A

Date: Dec 5, 2005 12:31 PM

Subject: For your wife’s b-day you want to make a sperm firework for her?

Reply | Reply to all | Forward | Print | Add sender to Contacts list | Trash this message | Report phishing | Show original | Message text garbled?

By buying 180 pills, be ready for 15 free pills and free shipping as a bonus.

Do you want to do something useful in your life? Advice your friend on our medicine for the best erection.

Your neighbors lost their alarm-clock? Don’t worry,  the sounds of your satisfaction from having sex with our new tables will make them wake up every morning or even have sleepless nights if you enlarge your dose.

december 4

time hopscotches along calendars and i'm completely dis-associative.  i find myself reaching for WaPo to discover what the date is, similarly, i never realised how dependent i was on my now-defunct digital cable box for telling time.  there is no other clock in my living room.  it almost doesn't matter for these in between days, when i'm in limbo between consulting gigs, between years. 

i always start to shut down in december, withdrawing like a terrapin in to my shell, considering where the year went and where i'm going.  what next?  exactly a month ago, i thought i had made my peace with geography, then my stubborn heart flipped serenity a double-bird.  east may be a beast at times, but west doesn't necessarily feel best. despair over such binary situations is the only constant. decisions need to be made, obligations must be addressed, metaphorical bills, long-overdue, have to be paid.

2.5 weeks ago, i went to new york to commence this process of moving out of the past. that trip went no way near as planned.  that doesn't mean it was unpleasant, despite unexpected snafus right and left-- i could've written that WaPo article about chinatown buses getting shut down for mad sketchiness, after i was stranded at Penn Station on a friday night. still, those lemons became lemon drops as manish and 3V added sugar and vodka respectively to sourness.  flickr tells that tale but not the notorious one immediately after, the one that involves a devoted vinod patiently tending to me as i repaid such kindness with regurgitated white russians and a jello shot. 

have i mentioned that i'm a lucky girl?  who else gets stranded in manhattan, low on cash, plan Bs and patience, and ends up having one rock star night (after a quick cardio workout at the NYSC on park)?  said the vij, "you clean up nice at the gym!" indeed.  i also apparently clean up nice even post-vomiting thrice, since i got sick all over my gorgeous sequined camisole, new fur shrug AND jeans, yet woke up bleary-eyed, stumbled in the bath and was astonished to find all three drying on the shower rod/towel rack.  i don't remember hand-laundering all of that, but i was told i did.  3V's angelic little sister deemed me an easy drunk for doing so.

what's hilarious is that i can't be fucked to hand-wash ANYTHING, no matter how precious or expensive.  hermes scarf?  i sneak them in to mom's sari pile so she can curse me quietly as she does her monthly silk-cleansing.  frothy underthings?  that's what woolite-lingerie bags and...um...woolite are for, in the machine, damnit.  "status" jeans that veena dry cleans b/c she doesn't have time to hand-wash?  woolite, cold, MACHINE.  it's the first thing i check on potential purchases, how must i clean this mess?

november 30

a note excusing my absence:

then = no steady net access, veena

now = sheer exhaustion after over two days w/no sleep, including one miserable, noise-canceling-headphones-didn't-work, baby-infested, sleepless-though-i-took-TWO-sleeping pills-instead-of-my-usual-one, red-eye night-flight on the oldest, stinkiest plane known to man

that's why there have been no updates, except to SM (55 mins ago!) and the flog (two minutes ago!).

sorrrrry.

:+:

at least Veena is feeling better.  all that other shit pales when i get grateful for THAT.