Chismoso/Peligroso

(translated as gossip/nasty trashy..)

It stinks having writer’s block and artist’s block. The sad thing is I’m not at any loss for events, they’re there - back to back all things ranging from fun, to morose, to fantastic, to tedium.

What I have been doing alot of is: watching Spongebob marathons with LJ, slogging through powerpoints, arguing over whether to use plastic or sticker name badges, and explaining to my mom the difference between voicemails and the answering machine - and using my remaining smart power left to read GOSSIP BLOGS. Which btw, are neither informative or lately even funny.

How much Britney can one take? And how many ways to conjugate the word V*gina? Does the paparazzi find ANYone other than David Beckham to be attractive? And why so many crotch shots, arm-pit stains, and hair extension photographs --- what an un-noble job..following people around taking pictures of sweat.

This entry is going nowhere -- but I’m a little calmer now after seeing Boobney’s pink wig out on the town for the hundredth time.

Send me that time warp art G, I think I’m ready to go back.

All is lost......

Scott Baio is...married.

Another test

Also, my dog.

Testes

Yeah, I did it.

Phirst iPhlog.

Musical Wormhole: "Patience" by Guns & Roses

I had an idea while sitting in traffic this evening, for a recurring* feature here at OEF. The iPod was doing it's thing, playing some straight up hits. "Video" by Ben Folds Five, "Try a Little Tenderness" by Otis Redding, and the inspiration for this feature, "Patience" by Guns n' Roses.

Everyone associates certain songs with certain things. I am not unique in that respect, I understand. But when I heard "Patience", I felt whisked away from crappy traffic through what I'll call a "Musical Wormhole" to my particular memory association for this song, and it made me smile.

It was some perfect spring day---before what resort townies call "the season" and I was at work at the waterpark, which my friend John's family owned, prepping to open for the year.

John and I were taking a break from whatever we were doing, sitting on a picnic table eating circus peanuts, watching his dad about 40 yards away trying his best to get a power-washer going. We weren't talking because the local rock station was pumping through the park's sound system at full blast, and it was an all-request lunch.

So "Patience" comes on. And as we sat there through the song, chewing on our circus peanuts, John's dad's frustration with said power-washer was building. It just wouldn't turn over. When the song was over, and John's dad's cursing and threats could finally be heard, John paused from his circus peanut to shout, "Just need a little Patience, dad" in the most armchair-quarterbacky way possible. And before his dad could unleash unholy verbal hell in his direction (that we could hear anyway), the next semi-classic rock song saved the day.

It's not an especially interesting story, I know. But it was a perfect moment, and sometimes it's nice to just revel in the good stuff. The waterpark was good stuff. It's still the best job I've ever had.

Even on the crappiest day at work there---when it was 97 degrees and 100% humidity and I had a dreaded summer cold, with mucus coming OUT OF MY EYES and no voice, and I was stuck in the locker booth for 6 hours because it was a casino picnic day and we ran out of lockers and I had to run a side "baggage claim" operation---explaining it all over again to every single person that came up to the counter (still with no voice), and getting yelled at for yelling at them (cos I had no voice)---it was still better than my best day at any other job.

Ok, maybe except that time I got to meet Peter Frampton. That was kind of awesome.

*Not necessarily recurring. Will probably never revisit this feature. See: Every other "regular feature" I've started here.

Shortie is Sleepy

This is fun!

Uma is Interested

Turn either your head to the left or your computer monitor/laptop to the right...

wildwood days/nights

In between dashing around the island the other night, we stopped to admire this new sign they put up on the boardwalk by the new convention center. Those beach balls are solid concrete, and are a whimsical version of those barricade things they have at the end of the driveway to the White House.

There have been lots of changes in my hometown in the last 10 years, and there are a lot of streets I don't recognize that I once knew like the back of my hand. This sign didn't replace anything, so liking it doesn't have to be bittersweet. If I had any sort of determination/ambition I'd take some pictures of the things that are left on the island that I love (double entendre intended)...maybe one day.

Profiles in Dopeness: Powhatan

You can't blog about Rogers without Powhatan. Powhatan is/was the relatively low cost "first" apartments after you finish your first year in the dorms. Here all your living costs go strictly to "living" and you must feed yourself. Which works out well for some - others found themselves rationing out ramen. Most people I knew lived here one year and couldn't take sharing their room beyond that year and moved off campus. I couldn't afford that so I lived there for the next 3ish years and 13 room-mates.

It feels like a gazillion miles away from any spot on campus, and with the crappy parking situation I was walking everywhere. All the time. The shuttle took forever and I couldn't find a seat hardly ever, so I only rode that like twice.

In terms of changes between my time there and what's happened since, it seems a little drastic. All the older ODU buildings are in shades of gray and blue -- while all the new buildings on the other end are bright brick (with fountains!). Powhatan needs a paint job like nobody's business. After all it was built in 1978 (nearly but not quite 30 years ago!) The Powhatan buildings all have names below them now - instead of the I-building - it's called Diamondstein and Hofheimer and other rich highly education names like that.

Having lived in a wide array of spaces in my life I can say that P-town was not THAT bad. Would I live there again? Probably no. I like having a sofa that doesn't look like I stole it from a waiting room at a hospital. And I like my bed that I can roll over in 3 times.

Profiles in Dopeness - ODU: Rogers Hall

It’s too bad they don’t make yearbooks for college, or maybe dorm hall books more likely. I understand why - a meager 20 % of the freshmen that come in during that opening semester barely make it to the second semester much less the final semester 4,5, and even 6 (or more) years later. Remember Big Brody, Crazy Stacy, or Pulp Fiction Soundtrack Stealing Michelle? (Didn’t think so.) Then with ODU in particular there’s commuters - which to me at the time always existed on some other planet. The Dorms/P-town while not the Hilton of living arrangements did lend themselves to a certain social metropolis that seemed to run 24 hours a day. Any given moment was a good time for a water balloon fight, a fire drill, or a party. 3 p.m. no problem..crank the Busta Rhymes.

After avoiding ODU for a long time, the school I was mad at because it became even MORE awesome after I left - (and mad because I had all these big ideas and hope.) I decided that for the next couple of weeks I was going on a nostalgia tour for those of you who also haven’t been back in awhile. It’s time to revisit the old..and see what’s been going on since. You know you wanna......

Here’s some Rogers Hall places and why I’m fond of them - feel free to comment!
(Click on them to make them larger, also was having a font problem with my “i’s”.)