Archive for January, 2008



Zero Cool

11:11 pm · category: Uncategorized

I haven’t seen Jonny Lee Miller in anything since Hackers way back in 1994. But right now I’m watching the pilot of Eli Stone, and I am in love with him. That is one hot, hot boy.

Also, I loved Hackers. Miller, Angelina Jolie, Matthew Lillard, Jesse Bradford. Even Marc Anthony was in that movie. Yes, that Marc Anthony.




A month ago, Min asked me explain what I meant when I said I boil out my ears twice a week. And then I promptly forgot.

I boil out my ears by tilting my head to one side and pouring a capful of hydrogen peroxide in my “top” ear. Please note that I do not boil or even heat the peroxide beforehand; it just goes straight from the bottle to the cap lid to my ear. When you pour the liquid in your ear, it sort of sounds like it’s bubbling up, which I guess is why it’s called “boiling.” Once the fizzing noise stops, you turn your head to the side so the peroxide flows out.

Truth be told, I don’t have any idea why I do this. Mama regularly boiled out our ears when we were growing up, and it’s a habit I’ve kept. I assume it’s supposed to clean out my ear canal, but I really have no idea. And yet… I still do it.

My daddy has been trying to get me to try ear candling for a while now, and I finally acquiesced on New Year’s Day. It was sort of soothing, although the entire extended family sat around and watched while my middle sister put a flaming stick in my ear for ten minutes. I was simultaneously grossed out and fascinated by what appeared to be chunks of cerumen* when she cut open the stub of the stick and showed me the insides of the ear candle. You can therefore imagine my disappointment when I learned that ear candling doesn’t do what it claims and is potentially dangerous.

I guess I’ll stick with boiling out my ears.


One more thing to explain…

I know I said I was participating in Blog 365, and I am! The post from last Tuesday has proven to be fraught with technical difficulties, which I hope will be resolved by the weekend. And I keep revising the “missing” posts from this week, because I realized I needed to put a little (read: lot) more effort into them to get the right tone. (I know I’m mostly a big ole whiner on this blog. I’m working on it, I swear.) So if you read rather regularly and just check for new posts at the top of the page, you might want to use Google Reader or one of those RSS Feed thingies that I don’t really understand. At least that way you’ll know when I post backdated items.

*I have been in love with the word “cerumen” since I learned it in seventh grade science.



What’s In Name?

4:20 pm · category: Uncategorized

Today I was merging guest profiles at work when I ran across multiple profiles for the same name: Velvet Pilot.

That has got to be the best name ever.



NOT Just Once in a Lifetime — Unfortunately

10:35 pm · category: Aunt Doodie

Tonight I watched 7 Things To Do Before I’m 30 on Lifetime. Zap2It synopsis: “One month shy of her 30th birthday, a down-and-out woman realizes she failed to accomplish a list of seven goals.”

I called Aunt Doodie to lament the fact that I was watching a Lifetime movie on a Saturday night. “Oh yeah?” she said. “Well, I’m watching the Miss America pageant. With Bailey and the baby. Because her husband’s out at a bar. Here we are — three intelligent, beautiful women — and we’re watching bad TV on a Saturday night. Which of us has got it worse?”

“Hmmmm. Bailey presumably gave her husband permission to go out to the bar, so she made a choice. And I worked all day and don’t really feel like doing anything, so I’m okay with it. I guess that makes you the saddest.”

“Well, don’t cry for me, Argentina!”

I don’t know why, but that made me laugh really, really hard.




12:23 am · category: Body of Mine, House Calls

Things I Made Tonight

  • Brown Rice Basmati Pilaf (with celery, onions, raisins, fresh ginger, and a ton of spices)
  • Hot and Sour Soup (without bamboo shoots [I foolishly bought bean sprouts instead because I AM A DOOFUS.] and with shiitake mushrooms [I hate mushrooms.] and sliced pork.

Verdict: Delicious


Things I Wish I’d MadeTonight

  • French Sourdough Bread (I really do have the perfect recipe.)
  • Cherry Pie (I had everything, but I got distracted by the awesomeness that is the rice.)

Verdict: Wistful but (probably) healthier



Death and Taxes

12:43 am · category: Uncategorized

Heath Ledger died this week. I lovelovelove Ten Things I Hate About You, even though it’s pretty much a romantic comedy. And I have seen A Knight’s Tale probably a gozillion times.  Ledger’s passing has saddened me in a weird sort of way.

I did my taxes tonight. For the first time in my life, I owe the government. This has saddened me in a tangible, turning-to-pissed-off sort of way.



Any Girl Who Isn’t Me Tonight

11:32 pm · category: Embracing My Inner Geek

Cindy’s most recent post over at Fuzzy Red Robe got me to thinking about my penchant for misunderstanding and misinterpreting the written word all the time.

For instance, from the first time I heard it all the way through I thought Aimee Mann was singing about Maria instead of Mario in Pavlov’s Bell. And really, it makes a lot more sense if you think it’s about a lesbian relationship. I mean, they “can’t talk about it” and they’re “trading clothes” and she’s “all about denial.”

I sang “Maria” instead of “Mario” for a long time, until I happened to look up the lyrics one day. And I was kind of disappointed. It’s a much better song my way. Take note, Miss Mann!



Just In Case

On the very off chance that anyone else is going, please note that I’m offering a place to rest your head that’s only one hour away from the site.



Sixteen Years Ago Today

Sixteen years ago today, I was a high school senior.

Sixth period was drawing to a close when a PA call instructed teachers to secure their classrooms and institute a campus-wide lockdown.

I was putting to bed the latest issue of the student newspaper when the announcement came. The other six staffers assumed the confinement was due to the drug dog making one of its twice-yearly campus visits. I knew better, because I had a sinking-but-certain feeling in my gut.

In that moment, I knew that B. had come back to kill us all.


Earlier that day, during fourth period choir, B. and the director — who, ironically, was a close friend of B.’s parents — had engaged in a heated verbal altercation. B. stormed out of the classroom, and no one saw him for several hours.

Turned out I was right. There was no drug dog on a leash; rather, there was B. with a gun — storming into his sixth period business class and jumping on a table and waving the gun and carrying on like a lunatic — and his classmates cowering in fear.

One student in the business class, A., was outside the classroom when B. entered it.  Hearing the commotion within, she fled to the principal’s office and reported what little she knew. As the secretary made the lockdown announcement, A. and everyone else in the office locked themselves in the book storage closet.

It was over before it even began, really. B. fled the classroom fewer than 60 seconds after entering; he was off campus before A. even reached the principal’s office.


The police found B. in under ten minutes. He was sitting in his car in a gas station parking lot four blocks away, crying, with the gun on the passenger seat. He was arrested without incident.

B. insisted he’d never intended to harm anyone; rather, he’d wanted everyone to watch him die. And he hadn’t followed through — at least in part — because he didn’t know how to turn off the gun’s safety. (I know, I know. 18-year-old boy + Arkansas upbringing + doesn’t know how to turn off gun safety = creepy anomaly.)

Should I have been able to predict this? B. and I had known each other since kindergarten. He was my first kiss in first grade. The previous summer we had spent a month together in Europe. I worked with him every afternoon at a small business that employed only six people; hell, A.’s mom owned that business.

But none of us ever expected anything like this.


B. spent ten days in a children’s psychiatric ward. Upon his release, he took a couple of classes via correspondence to earn his diploma. He graduated from a top-notch university. He earned his real estate license and completely restored a 102-year-old house himself, netting a sizable profit. He sheltered rescue dogs until permanent homes could be found for them.

On this blog, B. is better known as Rocco.



Party At Our Place

1:48 am · category: Rocco's Modern Life... With Me
  • 10 gay men
  • One 28-year-old female virgin
  • Me

Honestly, at this point I know way more about fisting than any straight woman from Bald Knob, Arkansas, should.