I’ve noticed that this year I have heard some truly asinine phrases uttered to me. I thought I would share them with you – in the form of a top ten list for the year.

10 – “Bling.” I really fucking hate this word. It sounds completely wretched coming out of anyone’s mouth. It sounds especially bad coming out of the mouth of a 40-50 year old white man.

9 – “Sorry, you have a vacation lock down.” This basically means that you’re not allowed to take vacation time. They lock down the vacation time for a group of people. My lock down has been since fucking September after Dragon Con, it will continue until next year.

8 – “Opera music gives me nightmares.” I know I shouldn’t mock the mentally challenged, but when my sister said this to me, all I could do was laugh. This will be on my mock list for a long time to come.

7 – “What do you mean you don’t want to come in on Saturday?” I think this is self explanatory really. Yet, it only ranks at 7 because it is sadly expected.

6 – “What do you mean she’s the Negating factor?” Some people don’t listen and don’t comprehend English well. This was in response to going over a schedule and pointing out that someone was working on the Gating item. She was the “gating” factor.

5 – “Real men don’t eat tofu.” This was followed up by the brilliant explanation of: “They just don’t.”

4 – “Atlanta isn’t a big city.” Metro Atlanta has approximately 5.2 million people. Explain to me how this could possibly be small. Sure, Urban Atlanta is sprawling with about 8400 square miles, but that is a shit pot-load of people. Heck, combine the two factors and that makes Atlanta Fucking Huge. Hell, it is a gamma-level world city. But, I give this a rank of four because most people don’t care about geography.

3 – “Making toast is hard.” This person was dead ass serious too. Apparently this woman cooks with the microwave.

2 – “Anecdotally … “ This is a pet phrase of one of my supervisors. It should never, ever be uttered in context with science. (insert Hulk Rage here) The worst part about it is he never uses the word correctly. Ever. Same goes for the word “Empirically”. I started counting how many times just this week he’s used it (to me) and the count is at 57.

1 - “Stop using words that confuse me.” This is brought to you by the same person who brought us the “Negating factor”. Now, you must understand that this person is easily confused by words. Word like: Minion, din, denial, and redacted confuse this person because there is simply no grasp of basic language here. This person listens to country music and apparently doesn’t read.* On a side note, how am I supposed to know what words confuse this person? Perhaps I should remain monosyllabic.

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* This is no slam against people who listen to country music. Just stupid people. Well, and people who don’t read and listen to country music.

Well, the year is quickly coming to an end and I thought I would do some best of type things until the end of the year. Or maybe I’ll just do this one. I don’t know how time is going to be for the next week, so, we’ll just see.

I wanted to do a best of on albums for the year. I don’t know if the numbers will really mean anything, but I’ll try to put them in some semblance of order as I work my way through.

10 - Tom Waits - Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards
It’s Tom Waits. The man has been around forever and he still manages to come up with new and interesting music. Normally, Tom Waits is not my cup of tea, but I enjoyed this album. When an artist can transform enough to go from my “Well, if I don’t hear it I won’t feel bad” list to the top ten of the year, it impresses me.

9 - Tom Petty - Highway Companion
I’ve always liked Tom Petty despite the fact that I’m not really one for the smoky treats. This album is easy to listen to straight through and leaves you feeling fairly upbeat. The catchy music that Tom Petty is known for and the down to earth lyrics make this an album that really means something. I think this album will outlive the shininess of being new and thrive in a world of ever-changing music and bands. Kudos Tom Petty. Kudos.

8 - The Decembrists - The Crane Wife
Melodic and interesting, this album is on many people’s top tens for a reason. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting to like this album as I’m not normally into the whole indy scene. (I’ve been mistaken for a Jewish Middle Aged Lesbian often enough without wearing a Belle and Sebastian shirt or Doc Martens.) But, the lyrics of this album make me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. It makes me thankful I have a robust vocabulary and some musical aptitude. I don’t know if I would appreciate this album if I didn’t possess those things. This is an album for musicians who read a lot.

7 - The Killers - Sam’s Town
When the lead singer of this band proclaimed that this would be the best album produced in the past 20 years and would be produced in the next 20 years, I scoffed. In fact, it made me want to kick him in the nuts. Arrogant prick. But, people still listen to Oasis and other asshats who front bands, so I decided to give this CD a listen. While not the best album in the past 20 years by any stretch of the imagination, it was a good album. However, based on this performance in a second album, I strongly suspect that The Killers Third album will fall into the third album stereotype and be crap. This one is quite listenable and a few of the songs are catchy. I especially like the fact that “he didn’t look like Jesus”.

6 - Keane - Under the Iron Sea
This album took a little while to grow on me. It doesn’t have the angsty “I want to curl up and die” vibe as their first album, but it is probably a better album. The songs stay with you once you hear them a few times. It was different from what I was expecting and overall, this is quite a good album. I think this may be one of the most underappreciated albums of the year in fact. it came out and then faded away. Give it a second and third listen and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

5 - Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Show your Bones
I have to be honest, before this album this band was a blip on my angry chick music radar. They are not that talented as musicians. This album was a lot of fun. When I found myself humming “Gold Lion” in the lab after listening to it on the way to work, I knew I had to get the album. I like this album a lot. There are several songs on it that are catchy, a little bit poppy and make you want to bounce while still clinging to the angry chick band category. I like it. They aren’t The Raincoats or L7, but this is really a fun album.

4 - Tool - 10,000 Days
I make no secret about being a Tool fan. I love the complex melodies and underlying ethereal harmonies. I love his voice and I connect with the lyrics. As with most Tool albums, you forget that 8 minutes is normally a long ass song. Each song is dynamic enough through the course that it absorbs you and takes you into the mind of the band. You are transported to their state of being. This album is quite nice. With “Wings pt 1” and Wings pt 2” you find yourself almost flying through the music. This is probably Tool’s best album since Aenema.

3 - Red Hot Chili Peppers - Stadium Arcadium
One thing I appreciate about the Chili Peppers is that they are able to adapt to the times and still remain true to their own form. This double CD album is a mix of upbeat funky grooves and slower melodic tunes. I will be honest, CD #1 is better than CD #2, but as a whole, the album was by far one of the best albums of the entire year. There is enough variety in the album that you can listen to it without getting bored. There is also enough depth in the album that you don’t have to be a 14 year old boy to appreciate it.

2 – KT Tunstall - Eye to the Telescope
Alright, I know this album actually came out in 2005, but it was imported to the States in 2006. Still, this album holds it’s own for both 2005 and 2006. I love this album. I love the versatility of Tunstall’s voice. I love how the music is so layered and intricate. I love how you find something new to enjoy on the album every time you listen to it. If all musicians had 1/10th the talent she had, we would be wallowing in excellent music. I love her rich voice. To me it sounds like rough wood, sanded and polished to a smooth gloss then formed into the most comfortable chair you’ve ever owned. Her voice is not only nostalgic, but also fresh. Of course, from what I understand, her music either something you love, or you hate. Well, I love it.

1 - My Chemical Romance - Welcome to the Black Parade
If Freddy Mercury was still alive, Queen would have put out this album first. Sure, the singer doesn’t sound a god damned thing like Freddy Mercury, but this album is dipped in the school of the highest caliber glam rock. Pure and simple. This album takes you through the rollercoaster of emotions felt when facing death. Each voice in the album is different, yet the whole tone of the album is the same. I know there have been albums that presented better music, better lyrics and better talent this past year, but this album remains my favorite.

How can I describe a moment and make it seem like the story that it was?

It was raining. I remember that. It is important to understand desert rain to understand the moment I was in.

Most people don’t know the smell of the desert in the rain. They cannot imagine how the smell itself is full of life. Most people imagine the desert as barren. As if the cacti are there amidst the dirt and rocks and dust. A single, dull yellow tumbleweed rolls past, dodging between the stately, perfect, two-armed saguaro.

Most people don’t realize that even the tumbleweeds were green when they were alive. Most people don’t realize that saguaro were once small and armless. Each towering cacti is like a fingerprint, different in its own way and leaving its unique print on the desert. Most people have never seen the white and yellow blossoms of the desert in spring and summer. Most people have never tasted the sweet, red fruit that pops in your mouth.

So, most people have no idea how alive the desert feels in the rain.

And the hot summer rain fell. I was soaked, but it meant nothing to me. I was perched upon my rock. Of course it wasn’t actually my rock, but a rock that I had claimed to watch the rain fall over the foothills below me. The rock was smoothly jagged. I don’t know if it is proper to describe a rock as soft, but it was a soft rock, especially in the rain.

I have experienced rain outside the desert, but it never fills me with the same sense of peace that the desert rain does. It never feels alive to me. It never feels fresh. The smell is never brisk and tangy on my tongue. I cannot abide by the moldy smell of rain; it fills me with the feeling of death. Where desert rain is filled with life, the rain elsewhere always feels pregnant with the feeling of dying.

But, there I was, perched on my rock, enjoying this summer rain. The sky was dark, but not filled with lightning as so many desert storms are. It was a fresh and heavy rain. A rain that lasts only minutes, but soaks the ground so completely that small streams form, winding their way down the mountain between the rocks and pebbles and brush and cacti.

That is how long this story lasts, minutes, the minutes of that summer, desert rain.

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I cannot recall how old I was, but I was old enough to be on my own for the majority of the time, but not yet old enough to venture beyond the confines of the foothills where I lived. In those in between years where you think you are grown, but still have so much more to learn and experience. Those in between years where you are still comfortable with who you are and still feel peace with where you are going in the world.

As was my habit, I was out in the foothills beyond the view of my house. There were ruins of an old settler house that had long since crumbled to the ground, leaving only the chimney and the remains of a wall. From that ruin atop the hill, I could still see my house. I had wandered past that, down the canyon and up the next hill. It was from there that I explored the desert.

The saguaros were ripe with fruit and as was my habit, I found an old rib to knock a fruit down off the top of the towering plant. As was also my habit, I pluck a hair from my head in thanks for the fruit the tree provided. I do not know where I picked up the habit, but I did. Every time I picked those juicy fruit from their lofty perch, I plucked a hair from my head and let it blow away from me on the wind. Perhaps somewhere in my head, I saw the similarity between my hair on my head and the fruit atop the towering giant. Either way, it was something I did. I wanted to leave a bit of me with the desert as I took something from it.

So, I slowly and carefully peeled the fruit. It was something I did with practice to avoid the furry thorns. The fruit was ripe and juicy and the flavor poured into my mouth and down my chin as I bit into it. It had not started raining yet and I was simply one of the desert creatures walking about the desert.

I could smell the rain on the air. The sharp, metallic prick in my nostrils gave away the oncoming storm. Despite this, I did not venture home as any wise adult would have done. I suppose that is one of the advantages of being at that in between age, you don’t have to be wise.

I walked upward on the hill with no real destination or purpose. I walked simply to walk. To explore, though I do not know what I was exploring because I had walked that hill many times before. Perhaps I walked to learn not about where I was going, but to learn about where I would go.

Then, the rain started. It fell on me as desert rain does, all at once: a blanket of rain falling from the sky. It washed the sticky juice from my fingers and from my chin in an instant, soaking my clothes to my skin. And then I saw the rock. it was a plain rock and I decided that it would be the place where I would watch the storm and be a part of the storm.

In the distance, from the rock, I could see the sun peeking through the clouds. Beams of bright color strained their way through the deep grey blanket of the sky beyond the falling water. But, here, I was in the rain. The sound of rain filled me. The smell of rain consumed me. The taste of rain embraced me. As it covered me, I became a part of the desert. I became another creature perched on a rock.

The rain fell darkly, dripping into my eyes. I struggled to see through my hair and through the water. Closing my eyes for a moment, I fell into darkness. My other senses coming alive. I could breathe in the life around me and expel the life from within me as I exhaled. Everything around me was breathing. My heart throbbed in time with the sound of rain on the ground. The sheets fell rhythmically, similar to the sound of waves on the shore, but deeper.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw them -

The two white wolves that would later become more familiar.

It was the first time I had seen them so close. Through the rain, we stared at each other. If I had been either older or younger, I might have felt panic and fear. But, I was at ease. I was in my element and so, we stared at each other. I do not know how two white wolves found their way into the desert. I suspect they were chased out of their pack for being different. Wolves are creatures who like to blend in, such an aberration would not be tolerated within their ranks.

The wolves did not move toward me and I did not move toward them. We simply stared at each other and acknowledged each other. Perhaps we all understood that we were the different ones. Perhaps we knew that we were the ones chased out. Or maybe, we had both left by choice.

In that moment we were all creatures of the desert with no reason to prey upon each other.

The wolves nodded at me and I nodded back through the rain with our eyes locked, but not in contest. I remember being struck by the fact that we had the same color eyes: not quite green, but not all honey brown either. Perhaps, if we had understood each other more, we would have held a conversation. Perhaps, if we had been able to speak, we would have disappeared into the desert together to be consumed by the rain.

And then, the rain stopped.

And I was alone in the desert again, perched upon my rock, the smell of life filling me.

Yesterday was an interesting day.

I discovered that I am allergic to passion fruit.

How could I have lived the entirety of my life on this planet and not known that I was allergic to passion fruit? Apparently I had never had passion fruit before. I was sitting there, drinking a glass of passion fruit juice (nothing else aside from water was in it and I’m fairly certain I am not allergic to water as I would be dead), and suddenly my mouth started to burn like fire. My throat started to itch and I started to talk funny. I think my throat swelled shut just slightly because I was having trouble breathing. But, it wasn’t serious enough that I couldn’t go out and buy beer, eggs, drain-o and benadryl.

Benadryl was there to save me. Good ol’ diphenhydramine. Look at it, isn’t it a cute little life saving molecule?

Anyway, this makes two things that I know I am allergic to: palm and passion fruit. Because of the palm allergy, there are many antibiotics I can’t take because palm is a common base used in pills. Being allergic to palm sucks. Think of all the places I can’t live for fear of death … or worse yet, a permanent case of hives. Anyway, apparently I was never meant to be a tropical person. My people are desert people and I am coming to understand that more and more.

I have Cirque de Soleil tickets!

Woohoo!

Not only that, but I have tickets to see Corteo on New Year’s eve.

Am I gloating?

Fuck yes I am gloating. The current score:

Sucky New Year’s - 3
Utopia - 2

I actually have cool plans for New Year’s. It helps me to have a bit of happy squishy feeling in my cold, black heart.

On Friday and Saturday I managed to get rid of most of the necklace & earring sets I made from the previous week. I gave three of them to the R&D girls at work and two away as gifts to our close friends. However, I sat down and made several more for family. I’ll post pictures later. Maybe my husband will even take the pictures of them for me with his new and spiffy camera. I need to make another for our friends from New Mexico that are coming into town at the end of the week.

(On a side note, Michael’s rocks for buying gift bags and jewelry boxes. I give extreme happy feelings to all Michael’s employees, especially this time of the year. It has to suck. I try to be non-intrusive when I go in there just to make up for all the old teahat biddies who go there and look through every single silk flower and wreath spreading glitter everywhere.)

I am really hoping this week will be good. I feel like it will be. Today will suck a lot, but the week as a whole should have a positive feeling.

Saturday I am going to the Aquarium to see the whale sharks. Whale Sharks rock. Aquarium’s rock. I haven’t been yet so I am really looking forward to it.

Tonight my husband is making either green chili chicken enchiladas or traditional Jewish turkey schnitzel. I like enchiladas. I like schnitzel. Either way I am a winner today.

WINNNER!!!

Yes, I know that it is early to make New Year’s resolutions, but I don’t care. Last I made resolution as well. I think one the whole, they were successful. Let’s see the run down:

Start a regular work out regiment - Okay, this was sort of regular. I did run and play soccer.

Get a pet pot belly pig - Failure. Damn.

Write something useful in my blog at least once a week –I like to think I wrote something useful, but then I realized it was a blog and nothing in a blog is ever useful.

Hunt down those guys from Creed (or Amy Grant) and pull out every single hair on their body, drop them in lemon juice and ask them if they still believe in God – Failure, though I do have some good leads on lemon juice suppliers.

Spend more time with my husband – I done good with this one.

Continue to not have children –I have succeeded with this one.

Kill the Cubicle Ninjas with my awesome Kung Fu – Failure. This is an on-going battle. I defeat one ninja with my awesome kung fu and two more ninja (ninji?) show up.

Mock at least one person every week to make sure I don't turn into a crazy, mean old lady – I don’t mock so much as swear about them a lot. I have gotten back into the mocking, though not directly.

Say "fuck" more (or possibly less) often – This was a complete success. Total and complete. Fucking awesome. Fuck.

Call myself a "cunt" more often – Total success.

Avoid stupid people – Utter and complete failure. If anything, I have found more stupid people who regularly annoy and pester me.

Make a better podcast for Mango Radio every week – I did well with this, then Mango Radio went away. There is no Mango, only Moxie.

Actually upload my shows to the fpt and link them on the news page - I was okay with this … I have been good about getting my show up on podshow because those scripts work unlike pod-o-matic.

Drink less caffeine – I did pretty well with this.

Make my husband stop smoking "for reals" this time – He has indeed quit.

Cook dinner on the weekends and give my house husband a break from a hard week's work of feeding and 'marinating' me – I’m bad about this, but I try. Weekends are lazy time for both my husband and I.

Keep my house cleaner – Pffft.

Add blog templates to my page or give them to Webkittyn – So … much … work …

Spoooooooon!! – Spooooooooon!!!

Stop making stupid lists – List are easy. We all should make lists.

So, for the next year I have some lovely goals. I have put a lot of thought into this (in the past two minutes) and decided on some most excellent resolutions.

1. Increase my penis size. This should be easy; I get several offers every day to help me with this. I look forward to seeing results.
2. Get more DJ’s for Moxie Radio. I’d like to have someone for every day of the week, but I know that’s wishful thinking. I’m not as cool, nor as popular as Mango. I have mentioned before that I am not one of the cool kids.
3. Play Soccer and not get a red card.
4. Say fuck - while playing soccer. Ooooooo….
5. I want to remain a non-axe murderer. I have a goal not to murder anyone with an axe in the next year.
6. Leash out more with my bitter, bitter sarcasm and hateful, biting wit.
7. Get a cool hat like Jamiroquai would wear. Add it to my collection of hats. Can you say Mrs. Mad Haberdasher? I think you can.
8. Get new running shoes. Or maybe those squishy gel inserts for my existing running shoes.
9. Buy DVD-Rs so I can burn stuff off of my computer and have more room for music.
10. Fail to have a stroke. I want to put off having a stroke until I’m at least 35.
11. Do a book on tape for libros.com.
12. Go to the museum and see the nifty French exhibit.
13. Slay evil – or possibly good, you know, because good is dumb.
14. Acquire a minion.
15. Have my minion do the dirty slaying work.
16. Eat cheese.
17. Go see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix when it comes out.
18. Get a new lab coat … maybe one without pin stripes.
19. Get new lead for my pencil.
20. Destroy the cubicle ninjas once and for all.

Edit:

I forgot to post my minion sign up form.

Name: Pick out your special minion name. Everyone needs a special Minion name. Snake, Wolf and Hawkeye are already taken, as is Cupcake.

Minion Specialty: What is your specialty as a minion? Are you a 'yes' man? Are you a sneaky guileful person who will stuff ballot boxes for me? Do you have a cool eyepatch? What will you bring to the team of Utopia's Minions?

Qualifications: Have you worked as a minion before? What are your qualifications to be my minion?

If you want to prove that you’re my minion to others, you can have a button.

Every now and again, I feel it is my moral duty to educate people. I was going to write a bit about the Westguard Rules. Then I realized that no one has any idea at all what these are nor cares. Unless you are an engineer or scientist, you really, really don’t care about standard deviations, control rules and Levey-Jennings charts.

Instead, I wanted to talk about management. Not all that motivational bullshit. No, that is not the important part of management. What is really important in management is learning to really fuck with whoever your bitch is for the week. You realize, of course, that you must rotate your bitch weekly, this will keep all of your minions on their toes and really increase productivity because your employees will fight over who gets to be your bitch. To keep people on their toes, make the person who works their ass off your bitch for two weeks in a row. This will really throw people off.

Now, managers, I have compiled a list of ways to fuck with your employees and really make them work hard for you.

• Make sure that you don’t stand up for them even if you know they’re right. Always roll over to pressure from other departments. This will really make them work hard to cover your ass and while they are covering theirs.
• Be sure to micromanage on projects - especially people who work fast and efficiently. Waste as much time as possible explaining procedures they already know and the timeline that they wrote.
• Call meetings and then don’t listen to anyone. Just tell them when it needs to be done, even if it is completely unreasonable.
• Remember those fast and efficient people? Make sure they have nothing to do with actually keeping the project on schedule. Instead, give the important tasks to the people who can’t manage their time, nit-pick over every word in a procedure and don’t do their work because of personal conflict.
• Don’t do the tasks you assign to yourself. Instead give them to the person who has the most to do. If it is one of those fast and efficient people, be sure to spend at least an hour explaining the task.
• Don’t give anyone any credit. In fact, take credit away from people by giving their validation procedures to others, have them rewrite them so they are useless and then put their name on it, rendering the original work obsolete and there by wasting a month of work done.
• When someone comes to you with a real live problem, blow it 12 steps out of proportion or ignore it. If you choose to ignore it, wait until it becomes a real issue and then blame the person who reported the problem in the first place.
• Spend at least 1 hour every day walking up to everyone on your team and telling them what you did over the weekend, what you had for dinner, or about that really neat rock you found in your backyard. They do want to know and it will make you a closer team. Honest.
• When one of your employees volunteers to pick up the slack of other people and do their work for them, be sure to pester then every 15 minutes while they are doing the task to make sure they are “okay” with it.
• Be sure to talk about everyone behind their back to other people on the team. Make sure the love-hate relationship is strong within the group. It’ll make you closer. Honest.
• Expect them to work Saturdays, but don’t tell them you want them to. Refuse to show up on weekends yourself.
• If an employee goes above and beyond the call of duty, make sure to ignore them. Or make them your next week’s bitch.

These things will really motivate your team. They have the Utopia seal of approval.

The other day someone asked me why I don’t write about world events more.

Frankly, I’m angry enough without writing about world events. I am a rage filled bastard. World events just fill me with more rage.

For example: Iran is holding a Holocaust Conference where only Holocaust deniers (more or less) were invited. Your friend and mine, David Duke was there. You know, the ex-KKK leader, yeah, inklings of recognition there. That French asshat who believes that there were no gas chambers or ovens in the concentration camps, yep, he was there. I could continue, but I’ve made my point. How could this conference not fill me with rage? Yeah that’s right; those warehouses full of stolen goods, hair, personal trinkets … were all faked. Those precisely kept records of Jewish, gypsy, homosexual and communist prisoners, execution dates and mountains of self-incriminating evidence … yeah, didn’t you know, we Jews faked all of that. The sudden disappearance of millions of Jews over the span of 3-4 years? Yeah, we faked that too. The confessions of SS Soldiers, high level Nazis … we paid them off with our mountains of hoarded cash to lie for us and get themselves hung. (Just so you know, that is bitter, bitter sarcasm you detect in my writing. It’s hard for me to write when I am filled with rage.)

If this wasn’t bad enough, there is the situation in Darfur. (Apparently we didn’t learn from the Holocaust as too many people in that area deny it ever happened.) Then there is the War in Iraq that seems to be a hopeless and getting worse. How many people died last month? What? The highest death toll yet! Woo! Don’t even get me started on local shit. People are all up in arms about the cops shooting a 90+ year old woman after invading her house on a drug raid. Mind you, she shot three of them (one of them twice) before they took her out.

So, just because I don’t write about world events, it doesn’t mean that I live in the dark about what is going on in the world. I am full and well aware about the suck that surrounds me. Fuck, I listen to new radio on the way to work and on the way home. (And I sit in a shit pot load of traffic, so yes, I do actually get a good helping of the news.) I don’t need to rant about it. There are countless other blogs that can do that if that is what you want to read. Hell, there are even good blogs out there that write about these things. I don’t have a good blog, I have a shitty blog. I have a shitty blog where I say fuck. A lot.

I don’t need to get worked up over world events when my rage is ruffled by people actually around me. You think I need a double helping of it? Fuck no.

When I have something to write about, I write about it. But I’m not going to go out of my way to say,”Oh hey, this happened in the world, I should say something about it like the 5 million other people are today.”

I am in a bad mood today. I was in a bad mood yesterday. I suspect I will continue to be in a bad mood for the remainder of the week. Things only seem to be getting shittier as the year end approaches and, quite frankly, I don’t think they’re going to get better. Don’t tell me to be optimistic. I’m not an optimistic person, nor am I a pessimistic person. I’m a realist. I don’t sugar coat things and I don’t shit coat them. I take things for what they are. Sometimes, things aren’t going to be okay. So, let me have my foul mood. Let me see that the world is full of shitty, shitty things on a world, local and personal scale.

Eventually I’ll lighten the fuck up when I can unwind the knots from my shoulders and my stomach. Eventually I’ll be able to hold the steering wheel of my car with something other than a white knuckled, kung-fu grip and I will have the time and mental capacity to relax. Now is not that time.

Fuck, I hate this time of the year. And it’s not just because of the holidays.

I have been working on projects for gifts. Yes, I give gifts despite my feelings of rage and hatred for people.

Anyway, yeah. Here they are. I don't have a fancy head-display for them and a photographer I am not.

Blue Wood
Dyed Wood with Brass Spacers, Matching Earrings and Crocheted Carry Bag

Celtic Pearls
Silver Celtic Knot Beads with Freshwater Pearls and Aventurine, Matching earrings on Antique Silver Chain

Kissing Frogs
Jade Frogs with Fresh Water Pearls on Wire

Smoky Tears
Smoky Quartz with Red Antique Czech Crystal and Seed Beads, Matching Earrings

Turquois Smile
Turquois Chips with Silver Stylized Spaces and Black Seed Beads, White Crochet Carry Bag

Blue Desert
Turquois Chips with Silver Spacers and Black Seed Beads, Matching Earrings on Antique Silver Chain

So, yep, that's what I've been working on. I have a few more to make, but I need to go and buy some more beads and wire. Though, I may stick with the nymo thread. We'll see.

I think I may the only woman in the world who reads Louis L’Amour books. Yep, I refuse to read sci-fi and fantasy, but I read b-grade westerns. Hypocrisy? Yep, probably. Do I care? No.

I can read the average Louis L’Amour book in an hour. This makes it convenient for me to carry one around and read it when I’m bored. I find myself bored often. I am not really all that easily amused.

Today, I read 2 Louis L’Amour books and The Outsiders by Robert Carson. It was about 850 pages of reading. I did this while running monotonous testing for someone else. Sometimes, you have to suck it up and do the shit jobs so everything can get done. I accept that and I don’t care. But, these monotonous jobs are boring, thus, the books.

I was on my feet solid from 7:30am to about 2pm doing these tests and reading. Yeah, maybe that sounds like I’m whining (or maybe even bragging a little), but days like these make me feel a combination of incredibly unproductive and productive. I know I did a lot, but it feels like I did nothing.

This week has sucked a lot.

A lot.

More than I really want to talk about.

This was pretty much the high point of my week. Reading while running these tests. This should not have been the high point of my week. Seriously. Let me explain why in a list.

1. I was on my feet all day.
2. There was nothing but non-stop X-Mas music in that lab.
3. People pestered me while I was doing this task.
4. The douchbag whom I have the most trouble withy controls the lab I was in.
5. The task turned out to be worthless by the time I finished it.

As you can see, this should not have been the high point of my week. I find it incredibly daunting that it was.

Next week will be fan-fucking-tastic.

I can’t ell already.

Luckily I have a stack of Louis L’Amour books. The soccer season needs to start again. I need the release of stress. I think I may do some serious weight lifting tonight. Might, if the stress knots in my back release themselves. I feel like Igor.

Dear E. Coli,

Please stay out of my tasty food bits. I do not wish to be expelling said tasty food bits from both ends for several days. I understand that you, like myself, have a job to do and it involves infecting people with your horribleness. However, I would really appreciate it if you and your food poisoning brethren would avoid living in my veggies, meats and other consumables.

As I understand that you need to do your job so I am providing you with a list of people you can infect instead of me.

1. Michael Bolton (either one is fine by me)
2. That no-talent crooner Seal
3. Pedophiles
4. That person who cut me off on the highway the other day then slammed on their brakes.
5. That douchbag at work
6. Any person who mentions “Tom-Kitty” or their baby like it’s something important.
7. Elves
8. That fake Santa who smelled like pee and tried to make me give him money for ringing a bell.
9. The person responsible for setting the temperature in my cube to Arctic.
10. Those people who have figured out how to spam comments on my blog where all the messages are news headlines.
11. Cubicle Ninjas
12. That person in the check-out line who takes 10 minutes to write a check.
13. People who text message in the movie theater while sitting right next to me.
14. Auditors
15. People who can’t manage to use the automatic check-out lines without mishap.
16. People with those soccer ball stickers on their car who obviously don’t play soccer.
17. Ted Turner
18. Those cable (or telephone) guys who say they’ll be there between 11-1 and then show up at 6.
19. Nazis
20. People who can’t get off their damn cell phone and just drive.

If you could keep to living in their food stuffs, preferably in the form of something they cannot help but put into their mouths, I would greatly appreciate it.

Thanks,
Utopia

Last week I encountered someone who told me that real men don’t eat tofu. Being a woman, I, of course, could not understand this. So, in my pursuit of science I went on the hunt to find honest to goodness men in the wilds to query what it is that makes a man a “real man”. I had the luck of finding a true, wild man from the depths of Kansas or Missouri or maybe Mars, I didn’t catch his origins. I pressed this “Real Man” to get answers to my most pressing questions as to what differs the “Real man” from the obviously tame and docile breed we seem to be surrounded with now. It was a struggle to learn his tongue, but for the sake of science I persevered.

This may help you in understanding their delicate psyches. Be wary when approaching real men.

Things I learned about men last week:

• Real men don’t eat tofu. They only eat processed food stuffs. Preferably those that come out of a can. This leads me to believe that if tofu came in a can, it would be acceptable for a man to eat.
• Manly men should pay more for their haircut than for their shoes because only women spend a lot of money on shoes.
• Manly men don’t want to be cowboys anymore. Cowboys have gone the way of the fireman and construction worker and the name Lance.
• Real men don’t listen to music without guitars in it. Music without guitars is chick music and off limits to real men. If music doesn’t have a guitar in it, a real man has no outlet for his air guitar practice. Air guitar is like water to a real man.
• It’s okay for real men to watch female figure skating because it has hot chicks wearing nude colored tights that trick you into thinking they are almost naked. However, if a real man watched male figure skating, his penis falls off.
• Real men don’t eat fruit. Or anything green unless it is on a hamburger or a pizza. It is acceptable to eat tomatoes, but only in the form of various sauces.
• Real men don’t read, much less write poetry. Poetry causes cerebral damage in the male brain. In fact, the use and cognition of metaphor in the male brain has been linked to erectile dysfunction.
• Real men should try to answer all questions with no more than monosyllabic answers. Another acceptable answer is “Because” which I determined to be slang for “because I say so” in their native tongue.

I learned all of these things last week from men who claimed to be real men. Some of the reasoning is pure postulation because I could not get clear rationale behind them despite my queries.

So, my pursuit for knowledge in the name of science continues. Next time I will delve into real man’s environment. What differs a real man’s personal space from that of the obviously tamed and docile man? Is being a “real man” nature or nurture? We shall see.

People think that because it is Christmas time, it is okay to get out that dusty Bing Crosby record and play it. This is incorrect. It is never okay to play Bing Crosby records.

I swear if I hear one more rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock” or “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” I am going to go on an axe murdering spree. I hate Christmas music. Hate it. I know some people love it and it makes them feel near-orgasmic with holiday joy, but, I do not feel holiday joy.

I am a scrooge. Ho ho fucking-ho.

I hate this time of the year. I hate snow. I hate cold. I hate Christmas lights. I hate Christmas trees. I hate seeing plastic Santas, snowmen and nativity scenes as I drive down the street. I hate that people expect me to be nice. I hate that people expect me to enjoy the gift giving chaos. I hate that people pour on nicety like a diabetic’s nightmare. I hate the Winter Holidays.

The music only adds to that hatred, fueling it from mid-November all the way through New Years. I hate that one day has become months of frenzy. One Day becomes something that people treat like a two-month-long event.

Want to know what you can get my non-Christmas celebrating ass for Christmas? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I would rather the pressure of gift giving be gone. You get me something, I get you something, Uncle Sal gets us all something and we ache and strain over the pressure of finding something nice enough to get him so he doesn’t bad mouth us for the rest of the year. Fuck it. Forget gifts. Forget once a year friendship. Forget false smiles, sugar cookies, tinsel, and 8-day candles. Give me nothing and expect nothing in return.

A gift should not feel like an obligation. That is not a true gift. A gift should be something that has meaning. The other day, a friend at work commented that she loved my earrings. So I went home and made her a matching pair along with a necklace. That is what a gift is. Want to know what I expect in return? Nothing. I did it because she liked them and I thought she would enjoy having a pair. Why does a gift have to be something for a special occasion? What gifts make you feel best? The ones that come out of the blue, for no reason at all.

So, screw you holidays. I’m not going to stop being a cold, stoic cunt just because other people think I should.

This has been my once a year Christmas rant. It shall not be mentioned again until next year.