DIY-Danna - Surreal Estate Agent

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

diydanna@yahoo.com — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 23:40:42 GMT

I've been talking about it for over a year now, and in less than a year I'll be moving to Portland, Oregon for health and professional reasons. The climate will be good for my seasonal respiratory allergies, and it's a great environment to write about d-i-y, indie, and underground art - and to study publishing in a supportive educational setting. June 5th is the move date, after I complete my commitment to the local ISD (yeah, I'll be molding/warping young minds for one school year). I'm also sticking around to help out with my sister's family and house. I will continue to support and promote local music. The skyline on the blog banner of diy revolution may change, but not my love for locally produced art and entertainment. I can thank living in Austin for almost 15 years for that love. It's going to be tough leaving some of the people and places I love, but change isn't always easy.

I'm going to miss my family and David so much... My sister mentioned moving with me when things weren't going so great with her hubby, but things are alright now. Sort of... I wouldn't argue if she decided to move with the kids. Then it would just be David I'd miss a lot. Who knew I could grow so attached to another human being in such a short time. I didn't plan on it. I planned on being single and free before I moved. I'll miss sharing his bed, snuggling and spooning and napping the most. I never knew I liked spooning and napping till I met him... David may be 21 years older, but when I see him so content, eyes closed, with a slight smile, it's like he's discovered the fountain of youth. I'm completely over (slightly) younger men, even though I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for a few of them - but it's more of a sisterly affection now. And my mistake crushing on the arrogant C.L. is a laughable distant memory. If I can afford it, I'll buy David a ticket to visit me for a week after I move. Does Southwest Airlines fly from Austin to Portland?

A Review of "Tarzeena: Jiggle in the Jungle"

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 06:42:11 GMT

Skinemax - I mean Cinemax - is still the best channel to watch soft porn late nights. I wish my boyfriend was here watching it with me, but I'm home alone, watching a dirty movie that exploits (and unintentionally satirizes) the Tarzan myth. And the acting is absolutely atrocious - and hilarious. I find myself laughing at the trite writing and acting. Good gawd, the acting is awful... especially the guy playing the boyfriend of the heiress. The electronic keyboard scoring is still in effect in 21st century, but I must applaud the editor, who obviously doesn't take his (or her) job too seriously. Watch the montage travel scene, and you'll know what I mean. And yes, there's a man in a gorilla suit, and a weirdo scientist. Wish I could fast forward through the sex parts to get to the bad acting. It's that fucking funny... And thanks to digital cable I've discovered that there are two other Skinemx flicks on right now. I may have to set the DVR. Ha-ha...

Wish I could find a video clip. if I do, I'll definitely append it to this blog.

George Carlin Tribute (F*ck MySpace)

diydanna@yahoo.com — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 04:31:41 GMT

7 Dirty Words

Pro Life is Anti Woman

George Carlin on MSNBC Countdown (for Janine ;-)

"Salt of the Earth"

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 06:39:56 GMT

I'm sneaking in a quick "friends" only blog while my boyfriend sleeps peacefully in the next room.

Today I got the best news of my life: I have severe hypertension. My blood pressure is high, even higher than a lot of other at risk African-Americans. This means I have to start taking medicine (as of yesterday), start relaxing and napping, start eating better (even after my improved diet - even less sodium), and start rigorous exercising almost every day.

It's all about starting a new lifestyle.

I feel so ill at the moment (so much so I have to monitor my blood pressure when I wake up again)... But I feel so blessed and lucky to have supportive and loving family, friends, and a boyfriend who will keep me accountable. Thanks to them and a healthier lifestyle, I'm going to be the silver haired seventy-year-old fox mistaken for a fifty-year-old cougar.

Amen!

A Hug Helps

diydanna@yahoo.com — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 22:53:37 GMT

My oldest niece seems to be vaguely aware I'm upset over something, and just gave me a hug. Ironically, my sister thanks me for showing her how to give "the world's best hugs".

Voting For Ron Paul?

diydanna@yahoo.com — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 20:23:14 GMT

I've seen a lot of posters all over Austin and the outskirts of the city limits, and I was surprised that an area predominately liberal on so many issues and open minded is jumping on a political bandwagon so readily. Is it because Ron Paul seems so amiable and he is from Texas? These are all good traits, but let's not forget Bush was an amiable Texan, and what good did supporting him really accomplish? He's not considered a Republican frontrunner, but a lot of young people (mostly caucasian, age 18-45) appear to support him wholeheartedly. A few MySpace friends in their twenties and thirties who I don't consider racist are MySpace friends with him, which alarms me because of his alarming views about Americans of African descent, Jews, and homosexuals. I'm not voting for Ron Paul because he represents all that is wrong with most of the Republican party, despite his anti-war stance. I'm an independent voter who has supported Republican as well as Democrat candidates, but the conservative party has never truly represented me because I'm a woman of African and American Indian descent who will not stand for bigotry or intolerance of any kind because it degrades humanity. Because of the Ron Paul bandwagon and the apparent ignorance (or ignoring) of his personal views, I'm compelled to take inventory of the good and the bad points about Paul's political and worldview, explaining why a vote for Ron Paul is not a vote for liberty and justice for all.

"Pros"

Ron Paul the only Republican/GOP candidate who is anti-war and Libertarian in his views. (Make fun of the Libertarians, but they make some good points about our constitutional rights and freedoms.)

Protect America From The Protect America Act:
http://www.antiwar.com/paul/

"Cons"

Ron Paul is also openly anti-choice, anti-semitic, homophobic, and racist. So when Paul refers to America in his impassioned Protect America plea, he is not a representing all Americans.

Ron Paul's Race Problem:
http://www.latestpolitics.com/blog/2007/05/ron-pauls.html

Ron Paul '90s newsletters rant against blacks, gays:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/01/10/paul.newsletters/

Temporary Work Sucks, But Poverty Swallows

diydanna@yahoo.com — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 19:24:05 GMT

Warning: The following blog is a dull synopsis of my working life.

The Bad News First:

Although my work contract was terminated and I wasn't given a new assignment with the temp agency, I won't be receiving unemployment insurance payment. Basically, I was screwed over and even if I appeal, it could take weeks (up to 6 weeks) before a result. My annuity is being used to my share of the mortgage now and my savings have dwindled thanks to high utility bills, which sets back my move to Portland at least one month. (Maybe up to three months if my tax refund isn't much.) I won't be receiving a paycheck for writing in at least a month (I have to wait until the article is printed), and that check is going to be quite meager compared to a month's salary through the temp agency.

And Now The Good News:

I have been doing an independent job search, and I will most likely have a job offer by next week, and the job training will be a breeze because I've done it before. It's a decent wage day gig, and I will actually get to use my degree. Even if there is a lay-off, I will probably have saved enough to not worry, and have a full-time position lined up by then. I'm living very cheaply. It's times like these that make me glad I was raised to be "low maintenance". But I know in a month I will be nearly broke. With this temporary work I will have a little security, and time to write, especially if I'm fortunate enough to work from home full-time. Regardless if my job is at home or on site, an earlier work schedule means I will still be able to help my nephew and niece with their homework after school, and help with housekeeping when their dad is asleep during the day. (He works a grueling night shift now.) My old job couldn't guarantee me this kind of schedule.

So I'm taking the good with the bad, and applying for temporary and part-time work to make sure I don't put off the move a year.

Although there have been some recent events in my personal life that may make it a challenge to move - emotionally - and they have nothing to do with my family.

G_d has a sense of humor when it comes to my love life. She's funny that way.

Big Star Burlesque!

diydanna@yahoo.com — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 23:14:04 GMT

I just had to make an entry in the public diary because I'm thrilled to know there's burlesque featuring BBWs!!!

Meet Big Star Burlesque!

Maybe I'll be bold enough to audition. Wish I still had my sexy purple wig. I lost it during the move from Austin back to my hometown, Beaumont back in 2001. I remember seeing it packed among some things in a trunk, but a few months later it was gone!

If I'm going to request an audition, I should practice in full costume. This inspires me to make a visit to Petticoat Fair and get a few lacy and satiny things, after I've paid the bills. I may also have to pay a visit to the nearest Frederick's of Hollywood. They have the hottest bustiers and bras in my size, or close to it. If I can't squeeze the twin peaks into one of those bustiers, I'll probably have to get one of those corsets too.

Forget about Victoria's Secret. There's nothing sexy in my size at that shop that isn't an extra large pajama set...

This also means I have to get in shape. I haven't been walking outside or on a treadmill in many moons. I blame allergy season and the lack of a gym membership, but it's time to invest in myself and buy a treadmill - a manual one, of course.

So when I'm not writing or blogging, I can walk while I read or watch the boob tube. And walk, and walk, and walk... It builds strength and endurance, something I'll need if I'm on stage - singing and playing an instrument, or dancing in a burlesque show.

P.S. Thanks Janine, a.k.a. jbluemoon for posting a bulletin about this burlesque show. I never would've known...

Trying to make sense of it is useless...

diydanna@yahoo.com — Thu, 15 Nov 2007 10:03:15 GMT

I'm trying to understand who the fuck would kidnap a kid who was simply acting out in frustration with her father. A 14-year-old girl is missing, and I happen to be acquainted with her mother. Actually, I have only met her once in person, but I consider her a friend and a good soul who is being troubled. And I feel so helpless. There really isn't anything you can do or say in this situation, unless you're a parent who is missing or has missed a child. I keep hoping, praying (even with my little faith) that her daughter will be alright, and that she will find her way home safely.
Before and after these thoughts and prayers I went to Chain Drive and saw my not so secret crush. Not just because he was there. Honestly, I really needed to get away, and when my former roommate and his band mate mentioned his show, I hoped I'd be able to attend. And thankfully, because of good timing, I was able to attend his show. The only disappointment was missing one other band, Destroyed for Comfort (see YouTube). But I hope to catch his next show on Friday at Elysium. But here's a photo of the man behind the band Aunt's Analog, who I secretly call Little Meal.

Hottie du Jour: Matt "Lockemup" Lacomette, a.k.a. Aunt's Analog, a.k.a. "Little Meal". Strange random thought: I just realized I've never seen this guy wear a t-shirt.

Seriously, he's one of the subjects of a music feature I'm doing at the beginning of the year. But he's still hot and if I weren't completely opposed to acting out my sexual attraction with subjects of my stories, I would fuck him. He's one of a few reasons I will miss living in Austin for a few years.

This crazy rant is sponsored by the letters "F" and "U".

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sun, 04 Nov 2007 05:33:01 GMT

I thought I could go a day without allergy meds, but the pollen is still getting to me, even after I showered and washed my hair. My nose is doing the itchy bothered thing, and I'm already sniffling and feeling thet ticking in my throat. Now I have to head out to the 24-hour Walgreens and get some drugs to prevent worse symptoms.

This is my last season of living under the thumb of pollen and people who think I don't know anything about music or that I can't write well.

FUCK CENTRAL TEXAS IN THE ASS WITH A BAMBOO SHOOT.

And I'm not overreacting. Juniper trees aren't indigenous to this area and serve no purpose (they're not even that pretty to look at), and a lot of people in this town are asshole users.

Single men who sleep with married women...

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 06:49:48 GMT

...are men I can't really like or respect. I just learned that someone I am - or was - very fond of is a complete jerk. I followed up on my suspicions and the worst was confirmed. Someone warned me about him months ago, but I didn't heed it, and now I'm facing the cold hard fact that he really is an asshole. I was ready to be friends with him again, but fuck no. A part of me hopes he gets caught in the act and gets his ass kicked. Black and blue and purple. Seriously. Well, he is officially off my Christmas card list.

Why am I laughing about that last sentence?

I am such a goof sometimes. But I really am disappointed in him. There are a couple of married men I'd like to sleep with too (i.e., Daniel, etal.), but would I? Hell, no. You just don't do it - and not just because it's bad karma or morally reprehensible, especially if the person who is being cheated on doesn't have a clue and thinks he or she has a happy, monogamous marriage. It's just reckless and stupid.

I may be polyamorous (which is still debatable), but I wouldn't sneak around on my mate or mates to have sex with someone else. Either it would be a monogamous relationship, or an open one. And truthfully, once I stumble upon the man (or woman) who wants to be more than friends, I may not want to be with anyone else - even if I think about having sex with someone else.

Of course he would speak to me today...

diydanna@yahoo.com — Fri, 26 Oct 2007 05:12:57 GMT

Gabriel, this guy from work I've been in love with since...June?... Hasn't spoken to me for a while. In fact, I got the impression he disliked me for some reason when he stopped making small talk with me. But then today - wham! He strikes up this flirty, long conversation with me at my cubicle, and I'm thinking - it's about time!

But of course, he's just a fantasy man. It's not like he'll follow me to Portland.

I wish he would... he's the smartest, sexiest, most confident 30-year-old man who doesn't seem to mind the fact that I'm black, overweight, and nerdy. I like that in a friend. And I dream about it in a lover. But I'm sure he was just bored and wanted someone to talk to. But at least he seemed happy to talk with me, joking, smiling...

I didn't notice what a terrific smile he has until today.

Yay! She's asleep!

diydanna@yahoo.com — Thu, 18 Oct 2007 05:51:29 GMT

I'm so happy she's finally asleep, I could cry. Mommy felt guilty after I said something, and now they're both asleep in her bed. Awww!

She looks like an angel, but sometimes I think she's the devil.

diydanna@yahoo.com — Thu, 18 Oct 2007 05:32:19 GMT

Excuse the tangential rambling, but why does the title or subject of this blog remind me of a country song?

My youngest niece Baby A is crying her head off in her room after I just finished reading two books to her, and my sister refuses to see about her. It's maddening, quite frankly, because all she wants is for mommy to hold her for a while. And there's another reason I'm annoyed.

Today was a three Swiffer day with my youngest niece, Baby A. And I lost count of how many little messes I had to clean up with those handy disinfectant wipes. On my days off I spend time playing nanny while her daddy sleeps until they start taking her to daycare, which will be next week. I'll miss her on my days off, but today she was having one of her terrible two days. Today I discovered that her dad actually allows her to drink soda - with caffeine! I made sure he heard me exclaim how horrible it was for her to drink that. I love my family, but living with them and observing other parents convinces me that people should take a test to have and raise a baby. You have to take a test to drive legally and go to college, then why the hell not if you want to have kids?

At first when I decided to live with my sister and her kids, I was laissez faire about helping out with the kids. But now I can't help but help with homework, science projects, making meals and snacks, and of course, reading to them at bedtime on my evenings off. I have definitely become Mommy #2. Sometimes the kids forget and call me Mommy. Sometimes I think to myself, "Gee, I know we look a little alike because we're sisters, but I am definitely not Mommy."

Maybe because I think you should pass a test before having kids. Mommies don't think like that.

About this fictional test: The first part would be written, where you answer some multiple choice or fill in the blank type questions, testing your general knowledge about babies and children, and what it may take to raise them so they won't end up worse off than you. The second part would be an oral or lab test where you would be placed in home for 24 hours with three kids coming to live with you in shifts. The first would be a baby, probably around 6-12 months, the second would be a toddler, about 2-3 years old, and the third would be anywhere between 11-13. I don't think I need to explain why the person taking the test needs to be tested by children in these age groups.

what i'm too scared to post on MySpace: fantasy a&r/fantasy record label signing

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 06:59:40 GMT

Damn it! I've heard enough about Spoon! Yeah, they're cool. They've got a good track record with some cool songs, and despite the negative experience with a major label, they are managing to be more successful than ever... And I think their contributions to the "Stranger Than Fiction" soundtrack are genius. But sometimes I get pissed off when so-so bands with unimpressive live shows like... Sound Team... get record deals after less than a 5 year run, when truly phenomenal bands that have been playing together for almost a decade remain unsung indie rock heroes. Like... Baby Robots... Hell, I didn't realize how much I enjoyed Baby Robots' music until I heard them live at Whisky Bar and started listening to some free MySpace downloads over and over again. It made me sadder and sadder each time I listened, lamenting all The Lemurs in this world getting all the hipster buzz, while three more remarkable bands [insert your three favorites] are ignored. Ironically, my only consolation is that Sound Team is signed with Capitol Records, where they will be confused with Relient K. [Insert maniacal laughter here]

Next year, I hope a talent scout with a well-funded, reputable indie label "discovers" Baby Robots - and one of your favorite, relatively unnoticed bands.

OK - now I can read in peace.

Dang.

diydanna@yahoo.com — Thu, 04 Oct 2007 02:14:53 GMT

I mentioned my official move-out day, and my sister was like, "Why don't you move in the next few months?"

Guess she really wants to get rid of me. Dang.

Not really, but she's actually getting on my case about buying a truck a.s.a.p. I may end up moving up the move-out day if I get the truck before spring, especially if m y life insurance policy and annuity transfer paperwork is in order. Because the sooner I establish residency in Portland, the sooner I can start the MFA/MA/MS program. I haven't decided if I want to combine MS Publishing and MFA Creative Writing disciplines, or actually earn an English MA. Decisions, decisions... But since I want to work in the publishing field, an MS in Publishing may be the most suitable. It includes an internship alternative - in lieu of graduation credits.

I'm really excited about learning more about the world of book publishing.

50 lbs.

diydanna@yahoo.com — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 22:46:15 GMT

50 lbs. is my weight loss goal before I move to Portland. I've been doing good so far, taking the stairs at work, eating fruits and (unsalted) nuts instead of candy and other sweets, (although I did indulge in a chocolate shake from Sonic last might after work), and I'm signing up at a gym to work out most nights after work, and on my days off. I'm losing the weight for health reasons, and also because my future soul mate in Portland may like women with big boobs, but not necessarily with big stomachs and arms. And I'm tired of my double chin waddling and waving at me in the mirror every day. I've never liked Miss Double Chin. She can kiss my fat ass goodbye.

And I refuse to die from heart disease just because I was too lazy to make a few lifestyle changes.

Fuck heart disease. It can kiss my fat ass goodbye too.

Well, back to the elegant world of fiction.

September 6, 2008

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 06:08:09 GMT

That's the date I'll be in Portland, Oregon, starting a new life as a stranger in a strange land. But I'm learning something new about Portland everyday, and I'm beginning to think of it as home sweet home.

Five interesting facts about Portland:

1. It's less than 5 hrs and 20 minutes away from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. (Does this mean I can pickup cheaper prescriptions, if necessary?)

2. The African American population is 6.6%. (That's more than the African American population at my alma mater, UT-Austin, but less than the city of Austin.)

3. Portland was the cleanest city in America in 2006, according to Reader's Digest. (But is it Clean enough to eat from sidewalks?)

4. In 1974, the city tore down a major highway along the Williamette River to provide Park and Greenspace, and suburb to downtown travel by lightrail and bicycle is more frequent than by car. (I'm guessing toll roads aren't popular there.)

5. According to Wikipedia: "Staffers of former US President George H. W. Bush used to refer to Portland as "Little Beirut" because of the protesters he encountered during his visits." I wonder what George W. staffers refer to Portland as... "New Little Beirut"?

I've also discovered a Masters program for Book Publishing as well as Creative Writing at Portland State University, so I may not have to commute almost 90 miles to Oregon State at Corvallis. In fact, if I decide to move to downtown Portland (as I originally planned), I may be about 5 minutes from school!

Now it's time to worry about a securing a full-time job and waiting a year to enroll in order to avoid non-resident tuition fees...

An ounce of intervention is worth a pound of manure.

diydanna@yahoo.com — Tue, 25 Sep 2007 18:22:23 GMT

Warning: This blog entry is not for sensitive readers who aren't accustomed to the hardcore nerd lifestlyle.

Sunday, a friend of mine finally informed me that I was a nerd.

It shocked me for a few moments. I denied it, like most nerds. But the signs of my nerdiness have been there, probably since my toddler days. Yes, I was a nerd even then, because I could read two years before I attended school.

Once I got over the initial shock that I may indeed be a nerd, I examined the signs of being a nerd:

What are the signs and symptoms of being a nerd?

The more being a nerd begins to affect and control a person's life, the more likely it is that he or she has a serious nerd problem. Unfortunately, nerds are often the last ones to recognize their own symptoms of awkwardness and geekiness. If you suspect that a friend or loved one is a nerd, it's important to remember that nerds often try to conceal their symptoms and downplay their problem. But there are a number of warning signs you can look for:

Inability to relax or have fun without reading or learning something.
Sudden changes in work or school attendance and quality of work or grades, mostly As or all As in all subjects - even the boring ones.
Frequently borrowing books from the library, an employer, employee, co-worker, home, or school.
Nerd outbursts, mood swings, irritability, manic behavior, or overall attitude change about being and looking cool.
Talking coherently or making inappropriate remarks about pop culture, i.e., "Who cares about fashion and football?".
Deterioration of physical appearance and grooming, which may be related to not caring about being or looking cool.
Wearing glasses and/or buttoning the top button of shirts frequently or at inappropriate times - like on dates.
No longer spending time with friends who don't read, research, philosophize, and /or associating with known nerds.
Engaging in secretive or suspicious behaviors, such as making frequent trips to the library, book store, museum, or other isolated areas where learning would be undisturbed.
Talking about books all the time and pressuring others to read.
Expressing feelings of exhaustion, depression, and hopelessness about the human condition.
Reading books or writing books first thing in the morning.

After passing on flirting with a hot drunk guy at The Parlor this weekend to enjoy pizza, soda pop, music, and "me time" (then reading a book before I went to bed that night instead of engaging in meaningless oral sex with "a friend with possible benefits"), I finally faced the awful truth - I am a nerd!

I know there is no cure for it, and that once a nerd, always a nerd. But I'm thankful for a friend helping me come to terms with my nerdiness, and getting the help I'll need to recover - one day at a time. Tonight, I plan to aid my recovery by visiting a place called the Whiskey Bar, listening to music, having a drink (or two) and hitting on cute guys - just because. I won't even read before bedtime.

Dear Diary, Is it love when you give him a six-pack of beer and expect nothing in return?

diydanna@yahoo.com — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 23:18:52 GMT

Last night was supposed to be a bust, but it turned out to be an enlightening night for me.

While my youngest niece plays her big brother's harmonica (she's got the two-year-old blues ;-), I write this and relish the moments I spent with B.P. I know that even if (or when) I move to the faraway enchantment of Oregon, I will always care about him. I could care less about Damien, with his pomposity and delusions of grandeur, but I also feel sorry for him because I had my own delusions... Thank goodness Mr. Giant Cookie Head is a mere ghost of a fantasy that haunts me no more. He stopped haunting me the moment I realized that I had done enough apologizing and groveling for being a fallible human being. How dare I!

I secretly and jokingly referred to myself as the next Adele H., the way I vainly pursued a friendship with Mr. G.C.H., wasting precious moments thinking about a man who thinks too highly of himself and too little of me, instead of getting to know the better man, the man who never made me feel insecure or unworthy. But there is a positive outcome to my vain pursuit. Mr. G.C.H. helped me see that I shouldn't let anyone define my security or worth. My happiness is up to me.

Last night after leaving a house party before I even entered the door, I called someone and offered to give him beer meant for the party. I can't have alcohol in my house for a couple of reasons I'd rather not discuss in this blog, and I thought B.P. might like a six-pack of Modelo. I would've just left the 6-pack on his door step and maybe left a message about it later, but that little voice of reason(?) forced me to call him first. As luck would have it, he was done with band practice and about to walk his dog Murphy.

As we walked in the dark with Murphy, and talked (mostly about music), I felt a peace and a camaraderie I had never really felt before, until a mutual acquaintance, Patrick, introduced us two years ago. At the time we met, I was holding in a lot of emotional pain and grief, and music was the only way I had of coping with the losses. Our slowly but securely forming friendship has been one of the few things that has kept me feeling "normal" after all the pain and loss of the past few years. The entire time B.P. and I talked last night, I felt like giving B.P. a hug and telling him that I love and will miss everything about him. But I'll save it for the last time I hear him play drums - next summer. Unless I convince him to move to Portland with me, with Murphy and his '73 BMW in tow.

But there are three strikes against this happening: I would miss him performing with one of my favorite bands, he doesn't think of me that fondly, and he's destined to meet the most wonderful woman here in Austin. I'm surprised he hasn't met her already. Some of these twenty-something (and thirty-something), skinny (white) women really have terrible taste and wrong priorities.

I made a very short list of the things I adore about B.P. that the woman he loves should appreciate:

1. He's extremely patient and even-tempered.

2. He's sincere without being corny.

3. He's highly intelligent, with a degree from one of the very best schools in the country.

4. He doesn't seem to be into P.D.A. - Public Displays of Affection. (I am anti-P.D.A., although a handshake or a hug from someone I haven't seen in a while may be appropriate.)

5. He's attractive but not self-absorbed about his appearance - or appearances.

6. He actually looks good in band t-shirts, and doesn't try to be hip. He likes what he likes.

Can anyone else visualize the cartoon hearts spouting from my eyes? Ha-ha...

Muchos Backflips!

diydanna@yahoo.com — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 01:56:55 GMT

I've just always wanted to use that band name in a blog.

Anyway, does anyone have an ironic hipster t-shirt I can borrow? I'm going to a house party and don't want the fashion police to arrest me tonight. But since I haven't done laundry, it's the only shirt that I can wear that doesn't have holes in it.

The only (unholy) t-shirt I have (that doesn't have a magazine or school logo on it) is a black "Say Anything" t-shirt from Torrid. It features a screen pic of John Cusack as Lloyd Dobler holding his boombox. But I'm afraid most people will think it's a gawdy Say Anything band t-shirt, and I'm an aged fan.

Help! This could help me get laid.

Not really.

I bet no one reads this bullshit. But I am serious about having to wear the shirt, Or a tank top with a a crochet pull over that would make me feel even more self-conscious than I already am.

Fuck it. I'm wearing the Say Anything shirt. I love that movie, and Cameron Crowe for writing and directing it. I've probably already missed the first band.

from crackspace - "Trivial Tuesday: Madeleine L’Engle Kicks J.K. Rawlings’ Ass"

diydanna@yahoo.com — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 18:52:25 GMT

I don't care how much money she's made on the Harry Potter mega-million enterprise. Rawling's pedestrian Potter cannot and will never compare to L'Engle's flight of fantasy, A Wrinkle In Time.

'A Wrinkle in Time' author Madeleine L'Engle dies at 88

Read the book and debate me. I intend to re-read it next week, after I read and review a book that may be destined for the Blackboard Bestseller List.

when you don't want to wake up from dreams, does this mean you're suicidal?

diydanna@yahoo.com — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 18:11:05 GMT

I've been having a lot of wonderful dreams about my deceased family members. It feels so real, because in most of them we're doing ordinary things, like shopping, laundry, cooking, eating, watching television together. In one of the dreams I was out shopping at some kind of unfamiliar outdoor mall with my mom, and I met this tall, handsome, white (?) guy who was flirting with me. I don't enjoy shopping in malls, but every now and then I would enjoy hanging out with Mom at malls or markets. We even went on a day trip, just the two of us, to New Orleans after Thanksgiving one year. Anyway, I was being shy in this dream, and Mom was goading me - telling me to speak up and let him know I was interested.

But the best dream I had last night happened when I was sitting in the kitchen with my grandparents. We weren't doing anything interesting that I could remember, but just sitting and talking. It felt so real... When I woke up I was upset. I wanted to spend just a few more moments more hanging out with them - even if it wasn't really happening.

My fiction writing has been loosely based on my family life and experiences, and these dreams have been serving as muses for my stories. But sometimes I don't simply want to settle for writing about characters inspired from my memories and dreams. I want to stay in this dream world with my mother and her parents. Maybe because sometimes the real world is full of disappointment. But maybe I need to take encouragement from these dreams, and start living in the real world. Mom sure seemed adamant about me hooking up with that dream guy.

Sorry I didn't get his name and number, Mom.

Removed from MySpace: Sexual harrassment in the workplace is WRONG.

diydanna@yahoo.com — Mon, 17 Sep 2007 06:47:33 GMT

I caught my young co-worker and cubicle neighbor (the young man who gave me the copy of Shakespeare's plays) staring at my boobies today, but I pretended I didn't see him doing it. Wow. That explains why he's always taking stretch breaks and peaking down at me as I work at the computer.

But that's OK. I was staring at his backside in jeans while he exited the building. Nice...

the tough part of moving will be telling my sister's kids goodbye.

diydanna@yahoo.com — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 05:41:15 GMT

I've already made the decision. But I guess I need confirmation that I'm doing the right thing. I need a change, to get away from some things that remind me of someone I really don't want to see, hear, or think about for a long, long time.

And I wonder if my life would be different if I would've said yes to Oregon State University ten years ago. Would I have a Master's Degree, or maybe even a Ph.D. by now already? I'd probably be about 50 lbs. slimmer than I am now, and most likely not worried about keeping a dead end job just to pay the bills.

It would be a challenge, being in a classroom again, but I think I'm up for it.