It'll taste better once it transforms.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Poop Shoot
I went to Target today and it's in this center called the West Hollywood Gateway where you can also go to Best Buy or have lunch at a few of there cafes (which I did).
Driving into the parking garage I drove past a homeless guy who made me do a double take. "Why?" you ask. Because the guy was bent over, pants around ankles taking a shit. I (pun totally intended) shit you not he was crapping on the sidewalk. What's worse, he was doing nothing to hide it. He was by a tiny, newly planted tree and yet his ass was hanging over the concrete. There was a young black man with dreadlocks who I watched from my rear view mirror sidestep the homeless guy and I couldn't imagine having to walk past that.
I'd known of homeless people crapping on sidewalks, I'd even seen the end result when I was looking for the FedEX building near USC's campus (and then I had to side step a sidewalk that was littered with human excrement). To actually watch another human being crap in full public view, however, was something else. Can't you get arrested for that?
Driving into the parking garage I drove past a homeless guy who made me do a double take. "Why?" you ask. Because the guy was bent over, pants around ankles taking a shit. I (pun totally intended) shit you not he was crapping on the sidewalk. What's worse, he was doing nothing to hide it. He was by a tiny, newly planted tree and yet his ass was hanging over the concrete. There was a young black man with dreadlocks who I watched from my rear view mirror sidestep the homeless guy and I couldn't imagine having to walk past that.
I'd known of homeless people crapping on sidewalks, I'd even seen the end result when I was looking for the FedEX building near USC's campus (and then I had to side step a sidewalk that was littered with human excrement). To actually watch another human being crap in full public view, however, was something else. Can't you get arrested for that?
Friday, June 29, 2007
I GOT ZEE JOB!!
To all my readers: I GOT THE JOB!!! Yeah! And it seems like a really great place to work so I'm truly happy. Thanks for keeping fingers and toes crossed for me. I start Monday so blogging might be sparse but I'll try.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Job Interview
I had a Very Important Job interview today, and I don't capitalize those three words to mock them, it really is a very important job, one that I really, truly want.
I think it went well. I managed to make the head guy laugh and he gave me a copy of a book he liked. I don't know if he gave every interviewee a copy but I'll start reading it just in case.
When you prepare for a job interview you can't help but to go over possible scenarios in your head. Will they ask this? How will they be sitting? Do I really not need that bottle water? Is my fly open? (no, it wasn't). How much ass do I need to kiss? I found that you can psyche yourself out by over doing this so I try to just clear my head and go with what happens when it happens. Of course afterwards I go over everything again and again and nit pick myself but it never helps so I'm trying to stop that as well.
I will find out tomorrow if I got it or not, unlike that last job interview where people have still not called me to confirm or deny employment. At this point I'd have to go with "No" and either way I really want this new job. It's right up my ally and the people seem really really nice and it's actually close to where I live so getting to work would take like, fifteen minutes as opposed to 30+ (depending on whether or not there was an accident on the 101).
Naturally I will let the whole world know either way when I know. Wish me luck:)
I think it went well. I managed to make the head guy laugh and he gave me a copy of a book he liked. I don't know if he gave every interviewee a copy but I'll start reading it just in case.
When you prepare for a job interview you can't help but to go over possible scenarios in your head. Will they ask this? How will they be sitting? Do I really not need that bottle water? Is my fly open? (no, it wasn't). How much ass do I need to kiss? I found that you can psyche yourself out by over doing this so I try to just clear my head and go with what happens when it happens. Of course afterwards I go over everything again and again and nit pick myself but it never helps so I'm trying to stop that as well.
I will find out tomorrow if I got it or not, unlike that last job interview where people have still not called me to confirm or deny employment. At this point I'd have to go with "No" and either way I really want this new job. It's right up my ally and the people seem really really nice and it's actually close to where I live so getting to work would take like, fifteen minutes as opposed to 30+ (depending on whether or not there was an accident on the 101).
Naturally I will let the whole world know either way when I know. Wish me luck:)
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Vitamins
My father, being the loving father that he is, has been badgering me to buy vitamins for several weeks now, as I have been poor and only eating beans, rice, turkey sandwiches and drinking Ensure. He is afraid that I'm not getting proper nutrition and I'll get osteoporosis, dowagers, or my spine will snap in half or that my organs, in desperate need of B12, would turn against each other in a Battle Royale showdown.
Today I finally got around to buying the Centrum Silver vitamins (chewable, orange flavored) to supplant my nutritional needs also because I finally (FINALLY) got my compensation check in the mail yesterday giving me the means to afford such luxuries.
So thank you daddy, thank you for keeping on me to get the vitamins. My bones thank you, my back thanks you and my organs put down their weapons long enough to thank you:)
Today I finally got around to buying the Centrum Silver vitamins (chewable, orange flavored) to supplant my nutritional needs also because I finally (FINALLY) got my compensation check in the mail yesterday giving me the means to afford such luxuries.
So thank you daddy, thank you for keeping on me to get the vitamins. My bones thank you, my back thanks you and my organs put down their weapons long enough to thank you:)
Wish Me Luck!
As some of you already know tomorrow is a very important job interview for me, so wish me luck:)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Funny Toon'
This is a funny and timely comic strip from Overcompensating.com. You can click on it to see a bigger version. All sex must end in conception! That is the evangelical way!
Monday, June 25, 2007
Ooops I Crapped My Pants
So I was perusing the blogs as I normally do and I came across this awesome website, which deals with the side effect of the new diet drug alli, which is a cousin to Xantrax 3, a fat burner. The author describes it a lot better than I could but I think it's sad when you have to choose between burning fat and shitting yourself. To me, there's no choice but to some, obviously there is because they're buying it off the shelves like hot cakes.
Video of the Day: A Legend is Born. The Original Dramatic Chipmunk
Which, turns out, is not a chipmunk but a prairie dog.
A Note on Self Doubt
Usually when I write I feel good about my abilities. And then I go back and take a look at it and start to worry it's not as good as I think it was. And then I start to worry that I'm not any good at all. I can be a cocky bitch, but I can also be my worst critic. Then again, isn't that how it is for artistic people? I'm writing a pilot that I hope will be my salvation in the writing world, as something that I can actually sell this fall. I know I'm way out of my league and probably skipping more steps than need be skipped but my writing is what gets me up in the morning. It's what gets me through the day, now that I don't have a real job to speak of. It makes me happy is what I'm saying although I fear the material might not be as good on paper as it is in my head.
I will have to figure out a way to counter act this...
I will have to figure out a way to counter act this...
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Two Reviews For the Price Of One
So, I have no life. Let's just get that little tidbit out of the way. This is fact for various reasons, which I'm not going to go into detail here because at some point certain people might actually read this blog. Not that this is anything to be proud of, I'm not, it's rather embarrassing when I think about it so let's just say I have no life and leave it at that.
Because I have no life I never have weekend plans and whatever plans I do come up with I end up doing by myself. I go out to dinner by myself, I go to movies by myself and up until recently I went to gay bars pretty much by myself. Over time I've gotten used to this and for some outings have come to enjoy the company of myself. I am always on time with me, I don't ever complain or bitch about where we're going. But sometimes when I'm in a movie and something cool happens I have no one to turn to, no one to discuss with afterwards. I've discovered a great place to eat by myself, they even have these little two people tables where a lot of people come to eat by themselves, making me less self conscious.
So, on Saturday I had to get out of my apartment. Just had to. I would've gone a bit batty had I not. But where to? LA isn't exactly a place to be running around by yourself. It's either a money issue or a safety issue and the last time I went to a straight bar by myself I ended up getting hit on by an illegal alien who kept asking me to dance, pretending not to understand "No, thanks" every time I said it. I know "no" is the same in English and Spanish buddy, nice try.
The Arclight is a great theatre in Los Angeles that's pretty expensive but when you go there you understand why. There are no annoying commercials before the film, people don't talk during the film and there are no annoying small children in PG-13 and R rated films. Plus the seats are awesome. And they serve liquor at these special 21+ screenings where you can take beer into the theatre. It's great.
So I was going to go to the Arclight, which is also the great place for dinner for one (where the awesome tables are) but that left me to decide what to see at the Arclight. I was going to see Michael Moore's Sicko but that was sold out and I'd seen some of the other films so that left me with the one option I didn't want:
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.
I didn't like the first one. I didn't see the first one in theaters I waited until a few months ago when it was free on HBO and even then I wanted my money back. It was bad. Laughably bad. Atrociously bad.
I sat at my computer going over other options. I could go to the Grove, where the food would be more expensive and I'd have to wait 45 minutes to get into the Cheesecake Factory or hover around the bar area like a jackal sniffing out an open seat. The film choices were the same as well.
But could I bring myself to do it? I did, in case you were dying of suspense. And to justify it I picked a showtime in The Dome and I capitalize that because The Dome is actually a separate theater altogether from the Arclight, though it's still apart of the same structure and company. I've never been to The Dome so that was my justification: I was going to experience The Dome, NOT to experience Fantastic Four (see what happens when you have no life, people?).
I buy my tickets, print them off and for the next four hours sit and watch whatever crap is on TV. I feel guilty about the purchase, as I do not posses anything that could be described as a "disposable income" but I know my mother will happy that I didn't spend the entire 48 hours inside my apartment, as I have been wont to do.
I get all dressed up for myself and head out, getting there in time to treat myself to dinner. I put in my name and number in my party (1) and the cool thing about Arclight is that they will take the time of your movie, as to make sure they get you seated, fed and out so you don't miss anything. A few minutes later I am lead to my seat and to my horror instead of being placed at a nice two person table I'm seated at a regular, four person table. I can see the two people tables, and I'm tempted to ask for one but the hostess leaves me before I can open my mouth.
Most people don't like to eat alone, for various reasons. Most of the time I don't mind (how can I?) and I've found that when you bring a book or a magazine people don't look at you with as much sympathy cause you're Doing Something instead of staring off into space.
The food was good, as always and I found myself relaxing and enjoying it so much that when I checked my phone I found I had five minutes until my film started. I quickly go the waiter who rushed to get me out of there and he was tipped nicely.
I get to The Dome (which is kinda outside) and discover what all the fuss is about.
It's huge. Like a big, open amphitheater. At the top there is what the name implies, a dome. I was disappointed that the screen was only a bit bigger than standard but it was very spacious and nice.
Onto what I thought of the film: Meh.
I will give it that it's better than the first one but then again how could it not be? It's sad that this was the best that they could do. Three fourths of the casting is great. But for some reason they tried really, really hard to make Jessica Alba look authentically Caucasian and the best way they figured to do this, aside from just going ahead and recasting the damn thing, was to dye her hair super blond and give her uber-Aryan blue contacts.
It. Did. Not. Work.
It was the most distracting thing EVER and every time she was on screen, especially with a close up, I found myself with the burning desire to grab her face and pluck those things right out. Mercifully either the director or writers realized she isn't the best actress in the world so she has very little to do here. Though they do put her in square glasses at every opportunity, as if to say, "Oh shit! Remember she's a scientist too? Yeah, neither did we."
Her plot throughout the film is to browbeat Mr. Fantastic into marrying her, even as the world (literally) hangs in the balance. Every time their failed attempt at a wedding came up I found myself wanting to scream, "Give it up! There's a planet eating cloud coming for Christ's sake!"
Speaking of which,
I am not a FF fan. My dad bought me the videos when I was a kid and I remember them vaguely so I know nothing of Galactus, the giant robot who the Silver Surfer works for. This is probably for the best, as I've had my heart broken enough by Spider-Man three and that was a storyline I knew well. *wipes away tear*
The Silver Surfer was cool, he's silver. He surfs and speaks like a black dude. Nice to know the deep black voice carries on throughout the universe.
There were bright spots in the film, oddly enough every time they happened Chris Evans was on screen. He's not bad on the eyes and distracted from the plot which was about as thin and stable as toilet paper. Having him on screen was like having a shiny object put in front of your face after staring at bricks, "Ooooh, pretty."
I could go on, but the film doesn't warrant any more of my time or energy.
Onto the second review, you lucky dogs.
I have a few people in LA that I hang out with occasional. And today was one of those days. We went out to lunch at this Mexican restaurant they picked and it turned out to be one of the worst meals of my life (see? this doesn't happen when you eat out by yourself). After that we ended up at The Grove to see 1408 which advertises itself as a horror film.
To know me you have to know that I have a thing against PG-13 "horror" films. I don't like them and I think they should never be allowed to be called "horror" as something that is truly terrifying will almost always be for adults. Now, I'm not a gore fiend before you start, I just think that anyone faced with a ghost, or a big ass snake, or a girl crawling around on their floor is going to say "fuck" more than twice and that anything that's actually mentally disturbing will not be suitable for tweens.
1408 is PG-13 but in my quest to get out of the apartment on the weekend and have Something To Do I overlooked this bit of information and decided to join my weekend friend for the outing (and I'd already seen Oceans 13, which was cute).
Watching 1408 only reminded me of why I don't like PG-13 films, they're like dude's who have really small penises and make up for it by lifting weights to make everything else bigger when they know you only came to see the main package. But instead of bulging muscles PG-13 "horror" flicks have pounding soundtracks. The kind you can go deaf from. They know that you won't actually jump when that black cat of a fake scare pops up on screen so they crank up the guitar and the violins to 11 to make sure you flinch, not from an actual fright but because it hurts your eardrums.
And that was pretty much 1408. There was a great first moment with the room radio popping on to the tune of "We've Only Just Begun" which was genuinely creepy but it was the only real scare. The ending was typically ambiguous and didn't help matters so a "meh" for this one too.
I know on the other end of the spectrum we have Torture Porn, where to try and get you to feel scared they show you the most graphic tortures possible without becoming a snuff film. I don't like those either, even though they're labeled as "hard R". It really doesn't take much effort or imagination to come up with torture, humans have been doing it for years.
So that was my weekend. How was yours?
Because I have no life I never have weekend plans and whatever plans I do come up with I end up doing by myself. I go out to dinner by myself, I go to movies by myself and up until recently I went to gay bars pretty much by myself. Over time I've gotten used to this and for some outings have come to enjoy the company of myself. I am always on time with me, I don't ever complain or bitch about where we're going. But sometimes when I'm in a movie and something cool happens I have no one to turn to, no one to discuss with afterwards. I've discovered a great place to eat by myself, they even have these little two people tables where a lot of people come to eat by themselves, making me less self conscious.
So, on Saturday I had to get out of my apartment. Just had to. I would've gone a bit batty had I not. But where to? LA isn't exactly a place to be running around by yourself. It's either a money issue or a safety issue and the last time I went to a straight bar by myself I ended up getting hit on by an illegal alien who kept asking me to dance, pretending not to understand "No, thanks" every time I said it. I know "no" is the same in English and Spanish buddy, nice try.
The Arclight is a great theatre in Los Angeles that's pretty expensive but when you go there you understand why. There are no annoying commercials before the film, people don't talk during the film and there are no annoying small children in PG-13 and R rated films. Plus the seats are awesome. And they serve liquor at these special 21+ screenings where you can take beer into the theatre. It's great.
So I was going to go to the Arclight, which is also the great place for dinner for one (where the awesome tables are) but that left me to decide what to see at the Arclight. I was going to see Michael Moore's Sicko but that was sold out and I'd seen some of the other films so that left me with the one option I didn't want:
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.
I didn't like the first one. I didn't see the first one in theaters I waited until a few months ago when it was free on HBO and even then I wanted my money back. It was bad. Laughably bad. Atrociously bad.
I sat at my computer going over other options. I could go to the Grove, where the food would be more expensive and I'd have to wait 45 minutes to get into the Cheesecake Factory or hover around the bar area like a jackal sniffing out an open seat. The film choices were the same as well.
But could I bring myself to do it? I did, in case you were dying of suspense. And to justify it I picked a showtime in The Dome and I capitalize that because The Dome is actually a separate theater altogether from the Arclight, though it's still apart of the same structure and company. I've never been to The Dome so that was my justification: I was going to experience The Dome, NOT to experience Fantastic Four (see what happens when you have no life, people?).
I buy my tickets, print them off and for the next four hours sit and watch whatever crap is on TV. I feel guilty about the purchase, as I do not posses anything that could be described as a "disposable income" but I know my mother will happy that I didn't spend the entire 48 hours inside my apartment, as I have been wont to do.
I get all dressed up for myself and head out, getting there in time to treat myself to dinner. I put in my name and number in my party (1) and the cool thing about Arclight is that they will take the time of your movie, as to make sure they get you seated, fed and out so you don't miss anything. A few minutes later I am lead to my seat and to my horror instead of being placed at a nice two person table I'm seated at a regular, four person table. I can see the two people tables, and I'm tempted to ask for one but the hostess leaves me before I can open my mouth.
Most people don't like to eat alone, for various reasons. Most of the time I don't mind (how can I?) and I've found that when you bring a book or a magazine people don't look at you with as much sympathy cause you're Doing Something instead of staring off into space.
The food was good, as always and I found myself relaxing and enjoying it so much that when I checked my phone I found I had five minutes until my film started. I quickly go the waiter who rushed to get me out of there and he was tipped nicely.
I get to The Dome (which is kinda outside) and discover what all the fuss is about.
It's huge. Like a big, open amphitheater. At the top there is what the name implies, a dome. I was disappointed that the screen was only a bit bigger than standard but it was very spacious and nice.
Onto what I thought of the film: Meh.
I will give it that it's better than the first one but then again how could it not be? It's sad that this was the best that they could do. Three fourths of the casting is great. But for some reason they tried really, really hard to make Jessica Alba look authentically Caucasian and the best way they figured to do this, aside from just going ahead and recasting the damn thing, was to dye her hair super blond and give her uber-Aryan blue contacts.
It. Did. Not. Work.
It was the most distracting thing EVER and every time she was on screen, especially with a close up, I found myself with the burning desire to grab her face and pluck those things right out. Mercifully either the director or writers realized she isn't the best actress in the world so she has very little to do here. Though they do put her in square glasses at every opportunity, as if to say, "Oh shit! Remember she's a scientist too? Yeah, neither did we."
Her plot throughout the film is to browbeat Mr. Fantastic into marrying her, even as the world (literally) hangs in the balance. Every time their failed attempt at a wedding came up I found myself wanting to scream, "Give it up! There's a planet eating cloud coming for Christ's sake!"
Speaking of which,
I am not a FF fan. My dad bought me the videos when I was a kid and I remember them vaguely so I know nothing of Galactus, the giant robot who the Silver Surfer works for. This is probably for the best, as I've had my heart broken enough by Spider-Man three and that was a storyline I knew well. *wipes away tear*
The Silver Surfer was cool, he's silver. He surfs and speaks like a black dude. Nice to know the deep black voice carries on throughout the universe.
There were bright spots in the film, oddly enough every time they happened Chris Evans was on screen. He's not bad on the eyes and distracted from the plot which was about as thin and stable as toilet paper. Having him on screen was like having a shiny object put in front of your face after staring at bricks, "Ooooh, pretty."
I could go on, but the film doesn't warrant any more of my time or energy.
Onto the second review, you lucky dogs.
I have a few people in LA that I hang out with occasional. And today was one of those days. We went out to lunch at this Mexican restaurant they picked and it turned out to be one of the worst meals of my life (see? this doesn't happen when you eat out by yourself). After that we ended up at The Grove to see 1408 which advertises itself as a horror film.
To know me you have to know that I have a thing against PG-13 "horror" films. I don't like them and I think they should never be allowed to be called "horror" as something that is truly terrifying will almost always be for adults. Now, I'm not a gore fiend before you start, I just think that anyone faced with a ghost, or a big ass snake, or a girl crawling around on their floor is going to say "fuck" more than twice and that anything that's actually mentally disturbing will not be suitable for tweens.
1408 is PG-13 but in my quest to get out of the apartment on the weekend and have Something To Do I overlooked this bit of information and decided to join my weekend friend for the outing (and I'd already seen Oceans 13, which was cute).
Watching 1408 only reminded me of why I don't like PG-13 films, they're like dude's who have really small penises and make up for it by lifting weights to make everything else bigger when they know you only came to see the main package. But instead of bulging muscles PG-13 "horror" flicks have pounding soundtracks. The kind you can go deaf from. They know that you won't actually jump when that black cat of a fake scare pops up on screen so they crank up the guitar and the violins to 11 to make sure you flinch, not from an actual fright but because it hurts your eardrums.
And that was pretty much 1408. There was a great first moment with the room radio popping on to the tune of "We've Only Just Begun" which was genuinely creepy but it was the only real scare. The ending was typically ambiguous and didn't help matters so a "meh" for this one too.
I know on the other end of the spectrum we have Torture Porn, where to try and get you to feel scared they show you the most graphic tortures possible without becoming a snuff film. I don't like those either, even though they're labeled as "hard R". It really doesn't take much effort or imagination to come up with torture, humans have been doing it for years.
So that was my weekend. How was yours?
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Happy Birthday Bruce!
Not that he would ever read this blog but today is Bruce Campbell's birthday. So drink one for Ash!
Everybody Has More Money Than Me
So I hung out with one of my LA friends last night and we had fun. There was beer, a black bean burger that was mistaken for a real burger but turned out good anyway, and discussion of what'd been going on the past few months we hadn't spoken.
He'd been to London with a stop in France. I'd been sitting on my couch with a stop in the kitchen. He was moving to a new, bigger apartment. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. *sigh*
It seems that everyone has more money than me. He is by no means wealthy, or even well off, and then again he did say that his family got together the money to send he and his brother to Europe so I guess there's that. Even still, he's got all this cool stuff while I'm struggling to make ends meet without breaking down and calling mommy and daddy for help. Being broke sucks. It sucks balls.
It just makes me wonder where all this money is coming from that I'm not getting. Everyone else is getting it, but not me. And right now it seems like I just can't catch a break. Everyone keeps telling me to "have hope" and "my time will come" but when you have no idea what your number is, or when Life is going to call it, the waiting can be an endless torture.
I shall stick to it. Living vicariously through those who do have money. I can always look at France on my computer:)
He'd been to London with a stop in France. I'd been sitting on my couch with a stop in the kitchen. He was moving to a new, bigger apartment. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. *sigh*
It seems that everyone has more money than me. He is by no means wealthy, or even well off, and then again he did say that his family got together the money to send he and his brother to Europe so I guess there's that. Even still, he's got all this cool stuff while I'm struggling to make ends meet without breaking down and calling mommy and daddy for help. Being broke sucks. It sucks balls.
It just makes me wonder where all this money is coming from that I'm not getting. Everyone else is getting it, but not me. And right now it seems like I just can't catch a break. Everyone keeps telling me to "have hope" and "my time will come" but when you have no idea what your number is, or when Life is going to call it, the waiting can be an endless torture.
I shall stick to it. Living vicariously through those who do have money. I can always look at France on my computer:)
Thursday, June 21, 2007
What's In A Name?
So, you might find yourself wondering what "code name shammara" means. Shammara is my middle name, which I don't actually use too often, making me wonder what was the purpose of having a middle name in the first place. I know there are some people who don't have them.
Well, since I did research in my last job I decided to see what was up with middle names. Here's what I found right off the bat from genealogy.com:
Few Americans were giving their children middle names in the 17th century until the German immigrants introduced this naming custom to America. They were in the habit of giving their children two given names at baptism. The first given name was a spiritual name, often a favorite saint's name, and the second one, which would later be known as the middle name, was the secular name. The secular name, or "call name" was the name by which the child was known and the name used in legal records. It was not uncommon for the spiritual name to be the same for all the children of the same sex within the family.
As for me and my middle name, like I said, I rarely use it. All through grade and high school I never used it to the point where people would ask me "What's your middle name?" and I wouldn't tell them. To me it was special, something that was my secret for me only. People would always ask and I'd say nothing. This was a game that went on all four years of high school and then everyone would tell me "We'll hear your middle name come graduation!" and I'd politely tell them they would not, as I was only going to use my middle initial. Unfortunately I failed to give my mother this news and when she filled out my graduation papers she put my full name. So come graduation over the loudspeakers I heard it. At that point it wasn't that big of a deal and I had a good laugh (really, it wasn't that serious) and literally the next day people had totally either forgotten how to pronounce it or what it was so my middle name went back to being my little secret once again.
But this time I'm going to let it out to play, have some fun. Anchor my blog:).
Well, since I did research in my last job I decided to see what was up with middle names. Here's what I found right off the bat from genealogy.com:
Few Americans were giving their children middle names in the 17th century until the German immigrants introduced this naming custom to America. They were in the habit of giving their children two given names at baptism. The first given name was a spiritual name, often a favorite saint's name, and the second one, which would later be known as the middle name, was the secular name. The secular name, or "call name" was the name by which the child was known and the name used in legal records. It was not uncommon for the spiritual name to be the same for all the children of the same sex within the family.
While the Germans would bring this custom to America, it was not until the early 19th century that the custom caught on with others. By the 1840s, it had grown into a popular practice. According to a study of college records, in 1840 about 92 percent of the students at Princeton had middle names. This custom would continue to grow and by World War I it was assumed that everyone in America had a middle name.
So we have zee Germans to thank for our middle names. Danke!As for me and my middle name, like I said, I rarely use it. All through grade and high school I never used it to the point where people would ask me "What's your middle name?" and I wouldn't tell them. To me it was special, something that was my secret for me only. People would always ask and I'd say nothing. This was a game that went on all four years of high school and then everyone would tell me "We'll hear your middle name come graduation!" and I'd politely tell them they would not, as I was only going to use my middle initial. Unfortunately I failed to give my mother this news and when she filled out my graduation papers she put my full name. So come graduation over the loudspeakers I heard it. At that point it wasn't that big of a deal and I had a good laugh (really, it wasn't that serious) and literally the next day people had totally either forgotten how to pronounce it or what it was so my middle name went back to being my little secret once again.
But this time I'm going to let it out to play, have some fun. Anchor my blog:).
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Three Lettered Chicken Place
At least I hope it's chicken. Hope to god it's chicken. There have been rumors...
As I am poor and have no problem labeling myself as such, when it comes to food and the buying of food I will often try to buy the kind of food that will last me a while. i.e. days. I'm a huge fan of beans and cornbread, despite what they do to other people who happen to cross my path when I'm on the treadmill (I try my best I swear to god). I also like rice and mashed potatoes. Starch is great. Sliced turkey makes for great lunches. Pizza is great for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Well, today I made a mistake.
My loving father was kind enough to mail me some money and in my sheer joy I drove my happy ass to the Three Lettered Chicken Place. Now, it'd been a while since I'd been to TLCP, and I remembered the "chicken" tasting rather well. Then again, I was a child.
I'd seen on TV that TLCP has a deal where you can get ten pieces of legs and thighs for under ten bucks. As a black person, it is within my nature to like chicken. And my favorite parts of the chicken happen to be legs and thighs. This to me seems like a grand deal. Add some mashed potatoes and some biscuits and we're cooking with gas. Evil Gas. (Karen will get that).
So I'm going through the drive through and I'm looking for the deal I want and I don't see it. That should be tip off number one. What they have is the ten piece MEAL, which is about twice as much. So I talk into the mic and I tell the nice lady that I want the ten piece meal for under ten bucks. And then she asks for sides. I tell her mashed potatoes and biscuits. She asks if I want the meal. I say no, not really and she persists that I get the meal cause technically that's what I'm asking for anyway. Flag number two.
I tell her I want mashed potatoes and biscuits and then she asks if I want the coleslaw. I say no, just mashed potatoes and the biscuits. So then she tells me I'm getting TWO orders of mashed potatoes. I go with this, though I shouldn't. She asks me what drink I'd like and I tell her the caffeine free clear soda, thinking that it would just be a regular sized soda. She gives me the price, which is twice as much as I'd intended to spend but I figure I'll be eatin' for days anyway.
Yes. I will be. Sad as that is.
So I pull around and wait and she takes my money and gives me the sack of heart attack inducing goodies and tells me to wait a minute while she gets my drink. Emphasis on DRINK. I put the emphasis on drink because what she brings me back is NOT a "drink". It's a bucket. A bucket of soda. With a HANDLE.
Through my shock I take said bucket, wondering where the hell I'm going to put it before deciding between my legs will be the safest option. So now I've got this cold bucket between my thighs and I'm starving because I didn't have a solid lunch (smoothie at the cyber cafe). I get back to my building without a spilling incident and head up to my apartment where I proceed to tear into my food.
Ten minutes later I am regretting this decision.
The "chicken" tastes nothing like I remember and it seems a bit extra, extra crispy. The mashed potatoes are good, as well as the biscuits so I enjoy those. After twenty minutes and two full glasses of soda I am stuffed and my heart is wondering just what the hell it did to deserve this treatment. You know how healthy you are when you eat bad foods and your body stages a revolt. I feel like Lisa Simpson after she drank the water at Duff Gardens. "I am the Lizard Queen!"
Well, I've made my bed and I shall lie in it, eating this "chicken" for the next few days. Though it has had one healthy benefit: It's got me craving a big, green leafy salad.
If Your Friends Were Jumping Off A Bridge...
Yes! I'd probably jump too, mom. There are you happy now?
Though it really would depend on the bridge and whether or not I was in the mood to either kill or maim myself really badly. No one needs both legs right? They're like kidneys. And besides I wasn't planning on running anywhere...
So this is me. And this is my blog. Shiny and new. I had never intended to have my own blog, if only because I didn't figure why anyone would give a shit as to what I had to say or what was going on in my life. Which isn't much at the moment. I am between jobs and don't really have any close friends to speak of in the LA area. I do have people I talk to/hang out with occasionally but not on a regular basis.
So I spend most of my days sleeping in, going to the gym and then writing at this cute little cyber cafe I recently discovered. Oh yeah, I'm a writer. In Los Angeles. Isn't that a shock. I'd like to think of myself as unique as a snowflake but I know deep in my heart I'm about as unique as a puppy at the pound. Eventually I'll move into acting as well, my ego won't let me do otherwise, but that's down the road. After I bribe some people.
I start this blog because my friend Karen showed me her husbands also new blog and I filled with jealously. Not really, but it sounded cool;) What it did do was get me to thinking that I might want to rethink the not having a blog thing because as I am in between jobs it might give me something extra to do rather than click refresh for the Best Week Ever blog. Plus, I'm a writer, so it will allow me to actually write something every day, as I am told writers are wont to do.
So the blog will keep me from getting rusty. And give me Something. To. Do. And even though I know it'll only be my friends reading this, it's nice to meet you.
Though it really would depend on the bridge and whether or not I was in the mood to either kill or maim myself really badly. No one needs both legs right? They're like kidneys. And besides I wasn't planning on running anywhere...
So this is me. And this is my blog. Shiny and new. I had never intended to have my own blog, if only because I didn't figure why anyone would give a shit as to what I had to say or what was going on in my life. Which isn't much at the moment. I am between jobs and don't really have any close friends to speak of in the LA area. I do have people I talk to/hang out with occasionally but not on a regular basis.
So I spend most of my days sleeping in, going to the gym and then writing at this cute little cyber cafe I recently discovered. Oh yeah, I'm a writer. In Los Angeles. Isn't that a shock. I'd like to think of myself as unique as a snowflake but I know deep in my heart I'm about as unique as a puppy at the pound. Eventually I'll move into acting as well, my ego won't let me do otherwise, but that's down the road. After I bribe some people.
I start this blog because my friend Karen showed me her husbands also new blog and I filled with jealously. Not really, but it sounded cool;) What it did do was get me to thinking that I might want to rethink the not having a blog thing because as I am in between jobs it might give me something extra to do rather than click refresh for the Best Week Ever blog. Plus, I'm a writer, so it will allow me to actually write something every day, as I am told writers are wont to do.
So the blog will keep me from getting rusty. And give me Something. To. Do. And even though I know it'll only be my friends reading this, it's nice to meet you.
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