Laughing my bum off

at the liberal-haters. The Myspace College Age Conservatives are my entertainment. The Reagan-loving is a bit excessive, though. I mean, not that its all not bullshit, but GOOD LORD, what are they thinking???

More linkage here and here and here and here. happy now? I didn't think so.

The Tao of Blog

I feel that I have developed many, many blog personalities. Most of these personalities have big bad attitudes and are more into who they aren't than who they are. For example, I know I don't want to have the kind of blog where I make lists of the sappy lessons life has taught me and end the list with some little summary of "what life is all about" and how " you just gotta believe in yourself." I know I don't want the kind of blog where I say unkind things about other people under the guise of poetry or use my blog to perpetuate Drama. I have, indeed, fallen prey to this blogging style in the past and will admit, although it was used for mild amounts of evilness which I really don't regret, I think I can do better. I don't want the kind of blog that turns into a ME party (you're thinking Hmmmm, try harder, bitch) because the kind of people who disclose carefully chosen details (chosen to make the blogger seem exceedingly interesting and charming) pertaining to themselves on their personal websites are the kinds of people who get really into those godforsaken questionnaires that circulate to every bloody person on their email list asking them who they'd fuck in what position while eating what food while listening to what music. I want none of that. I'm mostly interested in documentation and am perhaps a little people-starved. I miss my people and feel a bit closer to them when I imagine them getting bored halfway through my blog and wanting to call me so I can bore them over the phone. While the latter is a bit more expensive, a personal touch is always nice.

We just drove HOME to the ocean. Straight there, to the cliffs. This weekend we spent time with my mum and I tried not to mention how I wanted to kick in the balls of her soon-to-be ex-husband, aka SATAN, every five seconds. It's almost funny how there was no question, I knew and she knew I would be her instant ally and advocate. Its as if he had never been my dad, as if there was this unspoken understanding that I'd been there before him and I'd be there after.

how 'bout a link that works! DOOCE

ok, ok

So, I really just want to be Dooce. I want her wit and her baby...... Well, ok, maybe just her wit. NO BABIES FOR US!!! NOT YET!

The crisis

Today I woke up, got dressed, did homework, left home, got on the bus and got onto campus only to find that I, Tawny Lynn Holt, was out in the big, scary, judgmental world without deodorant on. The horror which promptly overtook me caused me to maintain rigid posture all day long as I looked for widely vacant seats on the bus and in classrooms. The fear that someone might be offended by my stench so controlled my day that I ran immediately home from school without doing my usual strolling and coffee-drinking downtown in order to apply thick layers of Mitchum deodorant, which is, by the way, the very, very best, when it's used daily, of course. After this hoopla I realized, THIS IS SANTA CRUZ!!! What am I thinking? I smell BO every day! I smell dreadlock stinkyness too! Every day! I smell people's weird all-natural-science-experiment-looking breakfasts brought to class in mason jars too! Every day! There is no need to fear one's own fragrance here in the land of tofu, yoga, and redwoods.

A man and his table

Had I known that Purchasing a foldable table from IKEA would make phil talk as if under the influence of some euphoria-inducing drug to Allen about sed table's wonderful foldable-ness, I would have gotten one much sooner. I truly had no idea that functional furniture could improve my marriage, but it has.

and so it is

without warning or real appology my stepfather just walked out on my mother and her four children. he walked out on me as well, i suppose, but i feel nothing but absolute and total disbelief that he has done this to my mother. he walked out on phil as his last remaining father figure. he just plain WALKED OUT after getting a new swanky job, a sports coupe, and working out regularly. could a midlife crisis be any more cliche??? he says he doesn't love my mother anymore but wants to be a part of my FOUR siblings' lives. BULLSHIT. i know in my gut of guts that he's having an affair and my mother suspects he's been having one for a year. this was all told to me about 16 hours ago. i think it has yet to really sink in. my heart is totally broken.

S to the A to the N to the T to the A to the Cruz

For those of you who don’t know, I myself being one such person merely one week ago, Santa Cruz, California is a crazy-ass place. My perception may be slightly altered because I live on Pacific Avenue, which is basically “the party street” as I understand it. On this street of mine, none of the fabulous restaurants open BEFORE 9 or 10 am!!! Isn’t that just INSANE. Sleeping in seems to be the norm here, for example, my Feminist Theories class starts at 10am and my instructor actually referred to it as an “early morning class” and advised people who don’t get up early not to take it. Is that fucking crazy or what?!? What is even more amazing is that everyone here is, like, NICE. Everyone says stuff like “thanks” and “I’ll hold your place in line” and “after you” and “would you like that with organic sprouts”? All of this leads me to my main point. (New Paragraph.)

Santa Cruz is a parody of itself. Its darlingness is so infectious and everything is so Santa Cruz, I just can’t explain it any other way. Some of my favorites this week include:

*A sign in a restaurant advising all who enter not to flirt with the girls who work there because they are “fine young ladies from good homes” as well as a strict no-cell-phone policy.

*make-shift signs on business doors apologizing for being gone because, you know, they’re at the beach.

*A vegan option for every single thing on the menu.

*Boys in the Feminist Theories class.

I’m pretty much having a love affair with Northern California and may never leave. I mean, are places allowed to be this beautiful?