More rules of travel

Honey, I have come to the realization that my company hates me. In actuality they are just... how do you say this delicately because I do want to keep my current employment? Cheap ass-es? How bout that one. I flew out to the Tundra also called Minnesota for work. I don't know why anyone in their right mind would want to live anywhere with all this snow and no film festivals.

So I am crammed in the airplane tighter than tuna in a can. Then I get a rental car- of course it's a Hyundai, or a Kia some kind of car that isn't spelled normal- just a bunch of letters that mean cheap in Chinese or Korean. I check into the hotel - with like 4 feet of snow in the parking lot and proceed to ruin my new shoes. Then I get my room and I kid you not there is NO WINDOW. I think how is this not a fire hazzard? The window is like a porthole in a submarine. I could never jump out of it if I needed to. Yes, these are the things I think about right before bed, very relaxing.

I wake up this morning and when I am trying to pat down my weave and put on my face, I find the light in the bathroom is burned out. Now, a normal person would call the hotel but I had no time, I was already late and standing there dripping on the tile-ish floor. So, I hope my wig is on straight.

From now on I wish they'd just UPS my ass from place to place. It would save a lot of time and inconvenience. Of course, they'd probably insist I go ground...

Childrun,

Momma is so sorry for the neglect. It's not like I left you alone in the parking lot of K-mart with the windows up and the doors locked in July, but it was almost as bad. Momma has been out pushing the cart and making some paper. It's hard being a single working mother. And that doesn't mean I have kids... I'm on the road for the next 3 weeks so I'll be typing to you out of my Samsonite while I unroll my support elastic waisted pants and steam them in the shower.

And I want to mention the grammys. That Pink lady is something else, I tell you. I felt inspired, I ripped the sheets off my bed and threw them over the ceiling fan. However, it wasn't exactly the same experience. Of course, the tequila made it better.

I leave you with this nugget so I can go change the clear baggy for my fluids and gels at TSA - they all talk shit about my Christmas theme ziplock baggy....A friend of Momma's told me this one:

The real reason that I'm drinking Shiraz tonight? I took a quiz on heart health over the weekend, and it turns out that I'm doing almost everything exactly right. There are only two things that my results said could do better: (1) I should lose weight, and (2) I should actually drink MORE red wine.

I decided it would be easier to drink the wine. :-)

be careful where you knock

So, I had settled in to watch the Vampire Diaries- my favorite teen vamp drama. I like to turn off the lights because it makes me scared and adds ambiance for the romantic-al scenes. I love some vampire loving. Anyway, I had opened my bottle of Cab and was eating my Peiwei (american-chinese). It was just getting scary and then I got a knock at my door just beside my tv. (This is the SIDE door not the front door of my house). Let me tell you I about jumped out of my skin. I was scared it could be a vampire, then I was really excited it COULD be a vampire...

Well damn it, it was some kid wearing an AT&T jacket telling me he was here to sell me AT&T television services. He proceeded to tell me that I could save money, blah blah. Keep in mind my tv is still on and the room is dark as night. I was a little uncomfortable talking to him but glad I had on respectable clothing rather than my robe which had been my first instinct. Ok, so then he says: "what channels do you get?" All of the sudden apparently the vamps decided it was sexy-go-time and I hear some moans coming from my tv. So, I am laughing and said, "well obviously the dirty ones."

on a serious note

my heart is heavy for the people of Haiti and I am amazed as I watch the continued coverage. I know it's been days and I feel like I shouldn't blog about something trivial. I don't have a lot of followers but I hope that everyone is giving what they can and realizing how lucky we all are. I am inspired and hopeful that you and I can make a difference with every $10 we can spare.

We live in a time of changing political climates and uncertainty. I am reminded that only the basics matter- I made a list of things I think are important. Please feel free to share:

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where more money is spent on education that war?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where farmers are valued more than lawyers?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where responsibility is rewarded more than greed?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where health isn't influenced by profit margins?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where health is subsidized more than auto makers?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where rights for minorities don't have to be voted on by majority?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where violence is more taboo than nudity?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where the future is more important than past grievances?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a country where we strive more to understand each other than to be understood?

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world where we help each other, unconditionally, not just because we are all equal but because we can?

Don't forget tomorrow night is a telethon. What you give away comes back to you someday- that's what I always like to think.

irony of it all

Honey, this working out this is damn near killin' me. At the gym today this white lady asked me, "how is your resting heart rate?" I said, "it's the best part of my whole damn day, honey." The gym is over-run with the ladies that wear make-up to work out and clothes that match. When I go to the gym it's like the movie Precious, if Precious were set in the YMCA. So, I did my machine and listened to my workout friend squawk about her addiction to soy latte teas or something of that nevermind. I like Diet Coke and Snickers bars, together or apart. That is my addiction, not a $5 coffee. Then I did some ridiculous rope machine. I was climbing a rope- but not really. I was sitting down and climbing a rope that rotates around this machine. The irony of it all- we run standing in place, we climb rope but we aren't goin' anywhere. Just makes you think what happens with all that mis-placed spent energy? I guess all these muscles are really just for show and not for street use. My body is like the sad, famed Pontiac Fiero- it is supposed to look all sporty and hot but underneath the clothing, it's just a golf cart.

Resolutions: not so much

So I made it to the gym. A hotel gym no less. Am on small business trip. Promised myself would get 30 minutes in because have not been so disciplined with the nasty cold. Here is the thing: it's so difficult to run when your thighs are slapping together. Yes, I said my inner thighs are giving each other the "high five" and no one told me this would happen. I am scared that while running I could start a forrest fire. So, I did the elyptical which is much like walking when drunk, but your arms are moving in a more controlled motion. I had come to the conclusion that I hate working out when my own tiddy flew up and hit me in the eye and then bounced off my shoulder.

Now, am off to fancy work dinner. This is great in theory, except work dinner followed by work breakfast and full day of work meeting before driving home with co-workers. So, your mama is saying she can't show her ass at fancy Italian restaurant. Enough Pinot Grigio, thank you.

Best part ever: aforementioned cold brought about lovely cold sore. Looks like evil twin is hatching from my own lip to take over my face and foil my plan for world peace. Nothing says I am a skank like: cold sore. I should wear a sash: MISS INDESCRETION : I make bad decisions.

Off to put on my sequined moo-moo and bedazzled orthopedic shoes. It's show time kids.

If only I could remember

I have my best thoughts at night, late at night. I can't tell you how many funny things I have thought but only if I could remember. Sometimes when I am in the shower I make up songs, and they are damn good, but I don't remember them between the shampoo and the toweling off.

My memory isn't as good as it quite was. I suspect it is because I am torn working at home, traveling, writing and trying to be a blogger and being a general pain in the ass. So I write myself notes to remember things.

Sometimes it is a note to remember a particular point on a contract.

Sometimes it is an item at the grocery store I neglected to get.

Sometimes it is to feed the cat, even though she does need to eat every day.

Sometimes, it is to add correct punctuation.

Sometimes it's an idea. This is the trickiest. I find now that I scribble it down and one of three things happens:

1) cannot read own handwriting (Does this happen to you or am I a slob?)

2) does not reconnect to original thought of brilliance and is lost forever in sea of intelligent no-where-ness

3) Cannot make sense of what the hell I wrote in the first place. What does this even mean? Why did I write down that? Why did I write down juxtapoz? That's my whole life.

So now I must write narrative. I am writing little letters to myself. No, don't get the wrong Idea I don't write love letters to myself. "Dear lovehandles, you're a person, too." " Dear self, you're smart and people respect your opinion" No- I write, this is for this thing and don't forget to do that with it.

One can imagine that this is great loss and waste of time, again typically late at night and it makes perfect sense that when I get up tomorrow I will remember that I had a great idea for a scene in a screen play... alas it's never as good as it was just before I went to bed. And, I can't write the song in the shower because the paper gets wet and I lost the lyrics.

So, you see, I am a one person paper recycling machine. If only my brain could be recycled for something useful I could control the world.