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[about the author]

i actually like speaking in front of large crowds. freakish, eh?

i work crossword puzzles in ink.

i am the american nigella lawson. or maybe the american eddie izzard. can't decide, really.

i would be a really good mom, but i'm cool with being a really good aunt.

i am sometimes more perceptive than i would like to be.

i am fiercely loyal. sometimes, stupidly so.

i never play dumb. never.

i am way too hard on myself.

i am a change agent.

i sometimes cross that fine line between assertive and aggressive.

i am not afraid to tell people that i love them.

i am militantly pro-choice.

i am pro-adoption.

i know a little bit about alot of things.

i typically enjoy the company of men more than women.

i am capable of being really mean and nasty, but i fight it. hard.

i am a lifelong cubs fan. do not laugh.

i have been known to hold a grudge.

i have hips.

i am not my sister.

i am lousy at forgiving myself.

i am an indoor kind of gal.

i am a bargain shopper. to the point of obsession.

i am 32 flavors. and then some.

[the ones people ask about]
Rittenhouse Review
Investment Banking Monkey
Cheap Ticket News
iPhone News
Hotels and Travel News
Latest on Retirement Planning
Consumer News and Reviews

[in case you were wondering]

[the blogger behind the curtain]

[100 things about me]

[the old stuff]


<< current

[all content copyright 2007 by tequila mockingbird. seriously.]


gone fishin'
not really.

actually gone movin'.

movin' on up...just like george and wheezy.

anyway, i'm back on tuesday.

with a new address.

and a new attitude.

and...some other new stuff that i can't think of right now.
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file under "conversations i thought i'd never have"
him: i think we really connect on an intellectual level.
me: but i want you to like me for more than just my mind.
him: i do. i mean...you have really good boobs, too.
me: yay! that's much better.
| [tell me about it] | [link to this entry]


"cult leader" has such a negative connotation...let's go with high priestess
every once in a while, someone suggests that i'm internet famous. it always catches me off guard. i say "always" like it happens every day or something.

it doesn't.

anyway, i don't think i'm internet famous. or even internet infamous. i mean, i do okay here with my little free blogger page thing. i get some hits. certainly not the volume of hits that other people get, but, you know this really isn't a competition, so who's counting? if pressed, i'd venture a guess that i'm in the mid-range of hits. i don't really know...maybe i'm in the low-to-mid-range. or just plain old low. or even mighty low. honestly, i don't even have any idea, what "mid-range" would be. let's just say i get more than 50 less than 500 in a given day.


at any rate, i'm always a little surprised by the notion that folks come here and read what i write. i'm grateful. and humbled. i mean, it's a pleasant surprise, but it's a surprise nonetheless.

still, pleasantly surprised or not, i am not ignorant of the fact that there are people who are aware of this page's existence. and who read this page. some even on a regular basis. some even enjoy doing so. and that's cool.

so, while i honestly don't think i'm some big-deal-internet-famous-chick-who-everyone-knows-about, i do find myself pondering the unbelievable cosmic coincidence of this.


i think i just cut myself on occam's razor.
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post and run
very hectic here today, so no time for a "real" post.

on the good news front, i found a place to live! hooray! on the bad news front, i'm moving sunday, and still haven't quite packed everything. okay...i still haven't packed...much. okay, i suck at the whole packing thing, period.

i finished my photos for the 26 things scavenger hunt. this is especially good timing, as my computer is now toast. burned, black, cripsy toast. like, won't boot up all the way toast. like win32.sys error toast. like won't even let you do a new installation of windows toast.

i'm starting to sound like one of those yogurt commercials.

anyway, you'd think that since i work in an it department, i would know how to fix my computer, thereby rescuing all of my photos and writing and other creative-type documents that i saved on the computer...and only on the computer. yeah, you'd think that, wouldn't you? well, you'd be dead wrong. i'm a software girl. end user girl. win32.sys?? all i know is: toast. i just want my files, you satanic machine! give me back my files!

um, anyway, it's not too late if you wanna find
26 things yourself
. you can submit your photos through the month of august...so, there's still plenty of time. as long as your computer isn't toast like mine.

on a wholly unrelated note, i love to people watch. specifically, i love to people watch and then imagine these little stories about these people. where they're going. what secrets they have. what they like on their pizza. you know, stuff like that. so, since i like doing that kind of stuff, i thought i'd continue a vibe that my friend, cw started this week [you might have to scroll a bit. i can never get his entry links to work right. probably something he's doing. certainly not anything i'm doing. perish the thought.]. so, in keeping with the people watching/inventing life stories thing, i visited hello natalie this morning. the story of the site is fascinating to me -- be sure to read the "about natalie" page to understand the deal. basically, the site owner found these photo albums at a thrift store, filled with photos of this woman and her friends. i wasn't dazzled by many of the posted comments, but it's a fun creative exercise to try and invent a story to go with each picture and and each person. plus, today's photo has boobage action, and i know that's a big plus for a significant segment of my readers.

on to other things...despite the indisputable randomness of this post, i was thinking i might like a new tagline. my one-year-of-blogging anniversary is coming up soon, and i was thinking of a site overhaul as a celebration. including a new tagline. and a more comprehensive keeping up with reciprocal links [sorry, kids...i really suck at that]. so, the tagline thing is wide open to suggestions.

and, while i'm thinking of it, a while back someone -- i'm almost sure it was natalie [no, not the same natalie as the "hello natalie". different natalie.] suggested that every tuesday you leave a comment on every blog you read. i like that. and it's tuesday. so, you know...comment your brains out. give a little comment love. spread it around. you'll feel good.

i'm swamped at work, spending most free time packing and unable to get online in the evenings to post, obviously, so i'll be a sporadic poster for the next week or so. not that i've been updating with any real consistency since everything went to hell in a handbasket, but i just thought i'd mention it.
| [tell me about it] | [link to this entry]


i'm sure there are more eloquent, or more flowery ways to say it, but it really just comes down to "thank you."

it's just that simple.


for the emails.

for the comments.

for the virtual hugs.

for the links to funny things to cheer me up.

for reading.

for writing.

for everything.

it hasn't exactly been a banner year for my family. and you guys have been there through the ups and the all-too-frequent downs. i appreciate you all more than i can ever really express.

now that the initial shock has worn off, i'm doing much better. we're resolved. we're planning. we're laughing. my sister is coming to dc this weekend to see a specialist for a second opinion. we're moving. we're breathing in and out.

it's going to be fine. not necessarily easy. but fine.

thank you for everything.
| [tell me about it] | [link to this entry]


[no title]
the tests say that i am fine.

the tests say that she is not.

i don't really have anything else to say right now.
| [tell me about it] | [link to this entry]


feast your eyes
i'm a tad bit busy at ye olde sweatshoppe today, so i'll just toss a few things out there and pretend like they're the makings of an actual post.

play along.

first up, thanks to everyone for your concern and support. both my sister and i should be hearing from our respective doctors tomorrow with word on all of our test results.

next up, yesterday was my niece's birthday. she's two. and she's cuter than your niece. deal with it. need proof? okay, but don't say i didn't warn you.

and, last up, my quest to finish the 26 things photographic scavenger hunt continues. i've made a dent in it, but stumped on a few. plus, there are a few i've taken that i don't really dig so i'll be snapping replacements for them.

it's been a fun project, and i'm using it as a chance to play around with my camera and try and teach myself how to use photoshop as well.

my work in progress is on display here.

back to the interstate, ben stone....
| [tell me about it] | [link to this entry]


i bet jesus would offer to buy me a drink
my girlfriends and i have this little quirk. we use the term "hooker" as a term of endearment with one another.

"hey, hooker!"

"what's up, hooker?"

"you're such a hooker."

i have no idea where it started. or why. i just know we say it, and it's never been a source of offense. because, you know, we say it with love. and we're joking. i mean...we're not really hookers.

although, i would probably have a nicer car if i was a hooker. well, if i was a call girl...'cause i understand that's different. oh, and i would probably work out more.

not to mention that, as you may recall, i was destined for hookerdom anyway.

so, you know, being a hooker wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.

but, calling your girlfriend a hooker isn't the same thing as having some judgmental coworker call you a prostitute.

two days ago, i was talking to a friend who also happens to be a coworker. while we were talking, another coworker stopped by. she began talking to my friend and, suddenly, the conversation took a rather sharp turn.

"you know, i'm sure you think you look cute, but nobody really wants to see all this," she said, waving her hand in the general direction of my friend's cleavage.

we laughed because we were just sure she was joking.

"oh, you go ahead and laugh, ladies. although i shouldn't call you that. i should call you women. we are all women, but very few of us are ladies. as you can see," again gesturing toward my friend's cleavage.

i'm still laughing -- still sure that this is a joke. has to be a joke.

my friend isn't laughing anymore though. i mean, it is her cleavage that's being disparaged.

but, now it was my turn.

"what, you're laughing? you think it's funny? i've seen you walking around the office with your stuff on display. and i don't see you that often, so it's probably a lot more often than that. you think you're better than she is? you think you're not a prostitue like she is?"

now it's pretty clear to me that this isn't a joke. or, at least it's not a funny joke.

"i'm sorry...what? first of all, i do not think i am better than her. or anyone, for that matter. know why? i'll tell you why: i don't judge people. not my place. not my business. live and let live. and, second of all: did you just call us prostitutes? did you just walk into my office and call me a prostitute."

"by prostituting your bodies this way, you're earning yourselves a place in the fiery pits of hell. jesus...."

"oh, okay, hold on right there...this is a small office, okay -- let's not crowd it up by bringing jesus in here. besides, jesus was a man, right? you think jesus wouldn´t appreciate an attractive lady with nice decolletage?"

my friend and i burst out laughing.

"oh, you laugh now, but what do you think st. peter will say to you when you arrive at the gates?"

and, despite what i know to be my inside the actors studio answer to the question, i just couldn't stop myself.

"well, i'm hoping he'll say 'nice rack.'"

"i'm gonna pray for the two of you."
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our pledge to you: at big giant medical corporation, patient care is job four!
so, this weekend i had to pee into a big orange jug. for 24 hours, every bit of my pee -- "no more, no less" according to the instruction sheet [and, yes, that is a direct quote. doesn't sound very medical, does it? more grandmotherly, really.] had to go into the orange jug. then i had to bring the orange jug -- filled with 24 hours' worth of pee -- with me on my 37 minute public transportation jaunt and deliver it to my doctor...with a smile.

well, the smile part i just threw in.

which i thought was really nice of me. considering.

considering the fact that the nurse reassured me with promises of, "don't worry, honey, we put a bag in there for you to carry it in when you're on the metro. that way everybody won't see your jug," and, sure enough, she was right...there was a bag. a white bag. with big black letters on it that read: URINE SAMPLE. so, yeah...that's totally discreet. thanks!

[ed. note: although, said bag is extremely useful in ensuring that you have no seatmate on the metro -- even on a crowded morning rush hour commuter train. simply place bag on seat next to you with URINE SAMPLE lettering clearly displayed. et, voila!]

today, as an encore, i had to go have an mri. not one of the open ones. one of the mris where they put your head in a box with about an inch of space all around you and then turn on some machine that makes incredibly loud and obnoxious noises. and you have to lie perfectly still. for 30 minutes. including the part where they inject some sort of radioactive [but in a good way] crap into your arm.

about 20 minutes into my little mri adventure, serita slides me out so she can stick a large needle into my arm and inject me with the radioactive stuff.

secretly, i'm hoping it will give me spidey sense.

"how's it going?"

"i feel like hannibal lecter in this thing," i say from behind the weird mask thing that's surrounding my head.

"don't move your head."


"wow...you're really bleeding. alot. a whole lot!"

now, i know serita doesn't know me, but i'm just saying: do not tell me not to move my head and then start making comments about the copious quantities of blood gushing out of my arm. not fair, serita. not fair at all.

she slides me back into the machine.

"this one will take about four minutes."

then the machine launches into some sort of whitesnake tribute.






four minutes, baby.

i hear serita's voice.

"how's it going?"

"it has a good beat and i can dance to it!"


all righty, then.

as i sat in the waiting area, i noticed a computer monitor on the counter. as a novice flash user, i noticed right away that the screensaver scrolling by was professionally done...the company's corporate screensaver.

it was very soothing.

scrolling text.

varying fonts.

differing degrees of transparency with overlapping layers.

very nice.

then, i noticed what the text actually said.

along the top, it read: our key areas of focus

then came the scrolling text...i see the first key area of focus:

1. collect our cash

uh. nice.

2. maximize competitive pricing

uh...does that mean "charge as much as we can get away with"?

3. manage salary costs

paging serita...serita, have you seen this?

and, of course, key area of focus number four:

4. patient care

well. i'm feeling much better now.

thank you.

please drive through.
| [tell me about it] | [link to this entry]


am i blue?

clinically, perhaps.

i'm sure you've noticed. i've been...distant. absent. not myself.

it's just that i have a lot of stuff going on. not much of it good, really.

oh, i know...buck up, chin up, hang in there.

and i appreciate it, i really do.

and it's not like i think i'm the only person in the world who's having problems. not like i'm totally consumed with a whole woe-is-me vibe.

but, i'd be lying if i said it's not having an effect. not impacting me.

and i don't just mean the writer's block. or the lack of energy to push through the writer's block. or the lack of energy to get up off the couch and pack something -- anything into a box because i have to be out of this apartment in, oh, about two weeks. because that's when someone else is moving in. and i don't know them. therefore, they are probably not open to the idea of me just staying here. even if i promise to be really really quiet.

and i don't just mean sitting around crying instead of going out and looking at other apartments when i damn well know i have to move out of this one.

and i don't just mean calling in sick because i just looked at my credit report and, apparently, an ex-boyfriend i treated really badly must be running the show over at equifax, because after i found out that a bunch of totally-not-my-stuff stuff was on my credit report and asked them to investigate it post haste...they did and it somehow, magically actually dropped my credit score. and, while i should be on the phone raising fourteen kinds of hell, somehow i only have the energy to stare at the unbelievably low number and nod, mumbling, "of course," and "dang. even i wouldn't rent me an apartment based on that." then climbing back into bed. which, of course, is going to resolve everything.

how can i get an apartment with this credit score? i can't. and who can i talk to about this credit score that will actually address the issue instead of just saying, "yeah, we'll investigate it" and then, somehow, managing to make this worse? i mean, come on, guys...i know it's not a bunch of rocket scientists over there at equifax, but you had me listed as delinquent on a mortgage i paid off over seven years ago. and, after checking into it, you now show me as only 60 days past due instead of the previously noted 120. this, of course, is not only factually inaccurate, but, basically, adding insult to injury. after all, this is the mortgage on my house...you know...the one that burned down. how can i be delinquent on a mortgage on a burned down house?! and, perhaps more importantly, why should i not want to kill you, equifax? hmm?

and, if i can't get an apartment, then what's the point of packing, really? i mean, why not just lie around on the couch instead? hey, look -- bull durham is on! what's that? oh, it's a beatiful day outside, is it? come again? you mean if i'm going to be totally irresponsible and ignore the increasingly impossible task of packing up all this stuff then i should at least go outside and slack in the beautiful sunshine? oh. i see. well, no thanks, i'll just keep my unshowered self right here on the sofa. thanks for asking, though.

and now, for my next trick: i shall climb back into bed.
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in the words of the immortal fatboy slim: a little bit of this, a little bit of that
a couple of you have asked me who the hell brian andreas is. yesterday i used a quote from him, and i've used at least two others from him in the past. once in one of my earliest posts. and again in one of my personal favorites.

so...who the hell is brian andreas? i don't really know. but i do know there are some really cool quotes that he uses to make some...um...interesting artwork. you can read all the quotes and see all the artwork at his website. honestly, the art isn't my cup of tea for the most part, but i'm often moved by the quotes.


since i've been a maniac with my digital camera lately, i've decided to do the 26 things photography project. sounds kind of cool. what the heck.


i'm slacking on getting the cds out to everyone. bear with me, kids.


i think that if a boy puts his hands on the sides of your face when he kisses you, that's a pretty good sign that it's going to be the kind of kiss you would like to have more of. however, my theory may need a bit more testing. i'll see what i can do on that front. but don't hold your breath.
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riding home together

"you may not remember the time you let me go first. or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn't that far to go. or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up. you may not remember any of those, but i do and this is what i have to say to you: today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together." --- brian andreas

as i've said before, my sister and i are a study in opposites.

my sister is sunshine and light.

not a sarcastic bone in her body.

she's statuesque.



green eyes.


a killer rack.

hips but no thighs.

it's all a bit...irritating.

this weekend, we stood side-by-side in front of the mirror in the master bathroom of her house.

"okay," she said, "see if we have any feature in common."

we both stared for a few moments in silence.

"eyes?" she asked.

"not even close."


"you wish."

"okay, how about...ears?"

we pulled our hair back and turned to the side.

"no," we said in unison.

after my niece was born, my little sister zipped right back down to her pre-pregnancy weight. and then she kept right on zipping.

when i got home for a long holiday weekend filled with deviled eggs and s'mores, i noticed that her stomach was perfectly flat. no sign that the adorable toddler toddling around had ever been inside that perfectly flat tummy.

as we lounged in the hot tub catching up, she took her long blonde hair down from its clip.

and a handful of it came out.

"oh my god!"

"i know. i know."

"what the hell is going on?"

"well...i'm sort of sick. we think."

my sister is a nurse practicioner, and her husband a doctor. i knew that, if they think she's sick...she's sick.

"what is it?"

i was getting more than a little dizzy, and i was sure it had more to with my sister's serious face than the vodka and high water temperature.

"well, it's this," she said and she leaned her head back, arching her long beautiful neck so i could see it.

about the size of an egg.

on the right side.

my stomach knotted.

"it's on my thyroid. it's why i've been losing so much weight. it's why your boobs are finally bigger than mine," she laughed.

"but what is it?"

"we don't know yet. won't know until they finish running some tests next week. i have no idea how long it's been there...maybe since the baby was born. right after that, my bloodwork came back like i had leukemia. so, they worked me up for leukemia. but, it turned out to be a false alarm. maybe it was this....whatever this is."

"what do you think it is?"

"it's either something called hashimoto's syndrome...or it's cancer."

"but what do you think it is?"



i couldn't breathe.

and, suddenly, all those years of fighting and beating and tormenting faded away. in their place all i could see were the years since then. the years in which we've come to understand and appreciate each other. the years we've supported one another unconditionally. the years in which we finally became sisters.

she's only 28 years old. she's beautiful and vibrant. she's the mother of an amazing two-year-old. she's the wife of the nicest man i've ever met. she's my little sister.

i know all about cancer. i know all about recovery and the amazing ability of the human body to come back from what seemed to be certain destruction. i know all about it, really, i do. and i'm perfectly willing to be optimistic. and supportive. and positive.

but if those tests come back positive for a malignancy, i will tear the goddamn world down with my bare hands.
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why you should go see 28 days later...which totally sounds like the name of some movie they made all the girls watch in 7th grade health class
let's just get this out of the way right now: this. is. not. a. zombie. movie.

despite what the trailers would have you believe, this is not some sort of mid-morning of the dead rehash. it's smarter than that. and cooler than that. and more artsy than that.

plus, the zombies in this movie are, like, turbocharged zombies. they don't do a whole lot of the ambling about and going "uhhhh....uhhhh." no. these "zombies" are superfast, and they just jump on you and rip your throat out or something. then they puke blood all over you. and other zombie-like things.

so, given that, why-for-how-come do i say it's not a zombie movie?

well, the zombie-types play a surprisingly small role in the movie. and, with a script by alex garland [he of the beach fame], you'd sort of expect a bit more than your average zombie flick. i mean, you'd expect a zombie flick with topless swimming. and drug use. and freaky cannibalistic stuff that doesn't make it into the movie at all.

um...i'm digressing. as usual.

anyway, this movie has a lot to like about it. there's some british guy who is sort of like the poor man's jude law [pmjl]. if you put him in a spray-on tanning booth. and photoshopped him using a gaussian blur filter with a setting of about 3 pixels. and stood really far away from him. and squinted. and you were drunk.

well, whatever. there was something about the kid that made me think he might possibly be the poor man's jude law. deal with it.

the first 30 minutes or so are very cool, and very creepy. basically pmjl comes out of a coma to find that some daft [it's a british film...i can say "daft" and get away with it.] animal rights activists have unleashed some really crabby monkeys carrying some sort of vague "rage" disease onto humanity. and now -- 28 days later -- pretty much everyone is toast. or a zombie. either way, it's not so good.

the scenes of pmjl roaming a deserted london are unsettling, if a bit drawn out. and, if you see it, pay really close attention...i'm almost sure i saw someone walking along the right side of the street in one of the scenes. but, you know...i'm drunk half the time anyway, so what do i know?

the film was directed by danny boyle who also brought you that feel-good classic, trainspotting. and, he makes being a zombie almost as glamorous and appealing as being a heroin junkie. the movie was shot on digital-video which gives it a very cool look and feel. it also gave them a chance to play around with some neat visual effects...actually some gaussian blur-like stuff now that i think about it.

the characters are engaging, the actors turn in some perfectly nice performances, there are a few cheap thrills, a couple of nice one-liners and your occasional zombie. what's not to like?

what 28 days later is really about isn't zombies. it's about something much scarier: human nature. it's that same sort of creepy-ass feeling that you get from reading that short story by shirley jackson -- the lottery. or during captain willard's surreal journey in apocalypse now. everyone is acting like everything is pefectly fine. but it's not perfectly fine. it's not even close to perfectly fine. people's minds get seriously warped when faced with circumstances that are a bit beyond comprehension. and, you know...blood-puking zombies are pretty much beyond comprehension. for most of us.

i will admit that i think boyle and garland totally pussed out with the ending of the movie. i could have given you a much more satisfying end with about sixty more seconds of film, and only a few more lines of dialogue. but, trust me: the test audiences wouldn't have liked it nearly as well as they must have liked the ending you're getting.

so, if i had to summarize, i'd say...28 days later: it's not just zombies! or 28 days later: the thinking man's zombie movie. or 28 days later: definitely worth a matinee ticket if you don't mind a zombie movie that doesn't have many zombies, examines the darker side of human nature and shows you the wang of the poor man's jude law!

yeah...that last one is about right.
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