check in
September 2, 2010
“How’s work?”
“Worky. How’s your day?”
“Nine to fivey.”
resolutions in september
September 1, 2010
I received some pictures from the Flugtag pre-party shindig we got to attend:
That’s my big, bald sweetheart, Joshua.
She of the gracious invite to said shindig, Aislinn.
These images tie into one of two new resolutions.
- I will be less stingy with photographs
I’m notoriously camera shy and that is putting it nicely. I’m generally pretty profane in my aversion to being in a picture and despite all my ‘radical self-love‘ speak, I insist every one that does end up taken is ugly and… the f-word. Fat. All the time with this! I need to cut the shit. Pictures don’t have to be pretty. They have to capture a moment in time so you can laugh at your hair with your (or someone else’s) grandbabies!
I may not share all or even most of the pictures I find myself taking willingly but I will not shy away or bash myself either!
The second resolution I recently made, and please suppress your laughter, is:
- I will be nicer
Simply put. I have learned a lot about myself and I don’t like a lot of what I see. I recognize the selfishness and the roundabout and confusing way I try to deal with my anger. I see that I try to place blame more often than I will accept it as my own. My personality is generally very abrasive and without sacrificing who I am, I think I could make a conscious effort to be friendlier and more engaging. I’ve unofficially made Ree the supervisor of this resolution. As such, she is allowed to tell me when I’m acting the opposite of my resolve and I can’t take it personally. Because that wouldn’t be nice.
Wish me luck. Please.
-CJ
quote worthy
August 30, 2010
weekend round-up
August 30, 2010
On Friday evening, I headed out to The Glasshouse in Pomona. It’s an all ages venue that I’ve been to at least a dozen times. Some of the more outstanding shows I was lucky to see there were Save Ferris’ second to last show ever (between 2002-2004 sometime, I think*) and my first Glassjaw show in November, 2002 when I was becoming largely pregnant and required the surroundings of gentlemen who wouldn’t let a rowdy being near my precious frontal cargo.
*The time lapse part of my brain has broken. Things that occured six months ago feel very much like they were last week. This explains my maturity regression. Sometimes I think I’m sixteen.
The Juliana Theory are not the best band, nor one of my favorites, and don’t hold an especially meaningful place in my heart. But it was their first show in five years and their last show ever and I felt obligated a few months back (who knows how many?!) when I bought myself a ticket. I hadn’t seen them before but I’d worn out a copy of Emotion Is Dead when I was in high school. Plus, ya know, live music kicks ass.
It was really, really cool. They played really fucking well and I thoroughly enjoyed swaying around and singing along. I’m glad I got the chance to see them and hang out with my cousin Alex and her ladypants, Heidi, while doing so.
On Saturday I cleaned with fervor until only a few stray white cat hairs remained. We ordered the UFC fight and had some people over for burgers and dogs in bulk packages. Of note: I am really bad at feeding the vegans. My apologies to those friends.
The turn out was fantastic. I met and made merry for the first time with a friend I’ve talked to through a journaling site for a couple months. Some friends I was starting to lose touch with made an appearance and rekindling with my blackened heart. Even people I didn’t know showed up, causing me to whisper to Josh, “who the fuck is that dude??”
The fights were super disappointing. A geedee refund is in order. I actually left the room for the last few minutes of the BJ Penn fight and I had been pretty jazzed to see it go down.
A couple of us headed up the street where a 29th birthday party was occuring that included an ice sculpture and a stripper with few to no boundaries. These two things were not combined at any point, mind you… that I know of.
I struggle with my thoughts on the… stripping industry? I’m all for the freedom to do what works best for you, to flaunt your talents by way of gyrations and picking up cash without using your hands, feet or mouth. If you know what I mean. And I think that you do. Although then I cringe a little to think of the risk this girl may be taking some nights and how, above the money she makes, I hope this is what she wants to be doing.
There’s a whole feminist rant to be had for either side of that coin. I’ll leave it to the pros.
Making nice with new neighbors is always fun, even if you’re supposed to be 100 yards away from that block by law. Ahem.
Sunday was lazy and indulgent. Kiddo was between excitement and nerves for the upcoming first day of school, which went swimmingly compared to last year. There’s a new after school program that she’s excited to check out and new friends to make, as her closest is attending another school this year, and a new teacher to make crazy. As long as the kid is happy, I’m happy.
Would it make me a big meanie to say that I am so relieved school is back on? Let the routine fall back into its blessed place.
-CJ
roles
August 26, 2010
You incorporate another being in your life and suddenly shit starts getting reeeal domestic. I think it happened at the pause between which seasoning is best on barbequed chicken and the ‘if I sweep, will you mop?’ plead.
I break the fascade sometimes and revert back to shenaniganing around the city with some lady friends. Last night found four of us sipping beers and shots of Jager at a friend’s house before a company sponsored baseball game at Angel stadium.
Yes I know I’m a Dodger fan, thank you, but I have a love of the SPORT.
Geez. Anyway. Next thing I knew, the Angels were down, and we were warming bar stools at a nearby gay bar. Then suddenly it was after midnight and I was drunk. Good morning, Story of My Life.
At the time I realized I should probably head home and not lose my ass in pool any longer, I remembered my very favorite little dark punk rock joint was about a signal away from where I was. And it would have been like driving by your grandma’s street and not at least saying hello. I parted the familiar curtain by myself and sipped some beer while Ferris Bueller’s Day Off played behind the bar. A super cute girl asked if I was there alone and I attributed it to my incredible popularity, natch. We made friends. And then we went to the bathroom and showed each other our tattoos in all the inappropriate places. She had one whole boob inked!
It was a good night but I had drinker’s remose like you wouldn’t believe except that you totally would because this happens every single time, doesn’t it? Doh.
BBQ at my house this weekend for the BJ Penn fight. My new friend is coming. If you play your cards right, maybe she’ll show you the tattoo.
-CJ
fantastic e-mail from a friend
August 22, 2010
“forgive the tzpos. z and y are reversed on german kezboards. bastards. I äm also somewhat drunk in a Cuban cigar lounge in Berlin. hate me if zou must. more later. smooches xoxo”
today
August 22, 2010
As we walked out of the video store, cheesy comedy in hand, he puts a hand on my cheek, kisses me full on the mouth and says, “I love you, babe.”
Then he patched my flat tire and made me dinner and served it to me with a cold Diet Coke and a kiss on the cheek.
-CJ
breaking the silence
August 21, 2010
Josh says, related to nothing, “I think there’s such thing as a BJ Penn air freshener.”
“Oh?”
“There’s hot girl across the street from [his best friend]. I think I saw one in her car.”
“…”
“…maybe that’s just what I wanted to see.”
Internet, you now know all you need to steal my boyfriend. Good luck.
-CJ
I’m embarrassed by what cracks me up
August 17, 2010
schedule of events
August 17, 2010
I’ve been conducting a refresher course on The Juliana Theory’s Emotion is Dead album. I snagged a ticket months ago for their upcoming show.
PLUS. Reel Big Fish in a month. Doug Stanhope the following week.
And this weekend? My good lookin’ and I were invited to join one of the PR teams for the Red Bull Flugtag event. Someone said ‘open bar’ and I said ‘YESPLEASE.’
Without things to look forward to, I may crumble.
-CJ
