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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.

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


 
10.28.2005  

a cautionary tale, the lesson of which is: do not try to be cute...and also, look in the mirror before you go to work
so today, i thought i would be all hipster cool and "dress up" for halloween but not really dress up for halloween. to-wit: i wore a pair of black trousers, a white cotton button up shirt, and over that an orange t-shirt with the word "spooky" in black old english-style letters [yes, it's the $5 one from target. and no, i couldn't find one that said "scary," although that would have certainly been more appropriate].

to top off my tragically hip look, i pulled on my black leather boots and tossed on my black leather jacket.

oh yeah. totally hot. well, at least slightly hotter than a sequined halloween sweater with black cats on it.

everyone on the metro and around the office seemed to be checking out my supercool shirt.

and it wasn't until about, oh, three minutes ago that i realized that, with my super stylish black leather jacket on, all you can see is "poo."

that's right.

poo.

poo.right there in the middle of my chest. all day long.

allow myself to introduce myself...wile e. coyote...supergenius.

-----
[ed. note: yes, i am not dead. sorry 'bout that. work. exhaustion. clinical depression. yada yada. i appreciate everyone's emails and comments, and am glad to be back.]
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10.03.2005  

forgetting is so long
lately i've been doing a lot of thinking about forgiveness. about the old saying "forgive and forget." i've always been someone who says, "i can forgive, but i can't forget." i guess i meant that sincerely. yes, i can hold a grudge, but i can -- and have -- forgiven many trespasses in my time.

i always explained my reluctance to forget as being self-preservation. in line with the old "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me" sort of thing. i guess my theory was that, by remembering, i would somehow protect myself from being hurt again in the future by a similar situation, or by the same person.

but i'm starting to think that forgiving without forgetting isn't really forgiving at all. you never really let it go. it's always there, just below the surface, whispering in your ear, waiting...waiting.
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