I'm asking you all for a favor

cause see, here's the thing. The reason why I haven't been posting and such. The reason there hasn't been any nakedness, no sex posts, not even showing off my inner dorkiness the reason why is because I haven't had an original thought to save my boobs because of school. Yep, that dreaded six letter word. School. My (insert as many four letter words as you can string together *here*)senior project is due tomorrow. Here's the thing, it's not finished. I won't go into all of the reasons why because it will just sound all whiney and complainy and well, who wants to read that? But, I'm fried, burnt, crispy, fork in both butt cheeks, I am so done, burnt out. 130 credits in two year. 100. 30. credits. in. two. years. Who does that? Well, apparently this girl. This Party Girl, no less. (There's an oxymoron just screaming to be let loose in that statement.)
No problem on it not being finished. I can have the weekend. Alrighty. Then I go defend it next Thursday in front of the entire English department at 4:10 p.m. to be exact. Thirty+ pages on the (insert as many four letter words that can be strung together *here*) American Dream and also in terms of two books that I no longer care to reference.
Okay, so, here's what I need from all of you: I need you all to be my cheerleaders over the next couple days. I need you all to tell me I can do it. I need you all to tell me I have actually learned and retained something over the past 130 credits and two years and $50k spent with interest still multiplying times infinity for the next 20 years. I need you to tell me I can do it. I need you to tell me that this post isn't cheesy and sad and pathetic or point out all the errors and how much it doesn't make sense, or hold it against me in the months, years, and pitchers of beer and glasses of pink vodka to come. I am my worst critic, my toughest competition, my worst enemy. See, cause here's the thing, a little somethin'-somethin' about me: I don't ask for help. I don't admit that I'm freaking out about something until the problem has resolved itself, I don't admit I might not succeed or be able to follow through. I don't do that. No, no, no. The best motivation a person can unwittingly give me is to tell me I can't do something, that I'll fail. *Don't do that in this case* That will not motivate me. I think I would simply cave into defeat and say, "Yep. You're right. I suck." And I wouldn't be referring to my head giving abilities. Even now as I type this I think it's pathetic. But that's what blogdom is for, right? To rally the troops, to bitch, moan, whine, tell people things we don't tell to those around us, show body parts...? Yeah, that's what this is. So, yeah. Goooooooooooooooooooooooooo Team!


....I'll be better in a few days. I promise.

Exhale.

Oh, here's the best part: I can't even work on the bloomin' (*here*) paper on this (*here*) computer cause I forgot to (*here*) update my Word because I was on the trial- basis- free-until-I-have-to-buy-it-Microsoft Office, which expired today. Yahhhhh!

Ew, vodka.

Ew, sex toys.

Gotta go.

two things I would like back

My time spent in the line for the bathroom and money spent on pantyhose.

Pantyhose. God lord what a waste of money and a reason to cause a fire between my thighs these things are. For these two reasons I no longer wear pantyhose. Waste of money. Put them on, get a run. Put them on, get a run. Repeat until you die or refuse to ever wear a pair again.
$12 pair of black silk thigh-highs. Slip one on, get it up to my thigh annnnddd...fucking 'A, you have got to be kidding me. Silk. $12. Thigh-highs. Ran one. Just one. The outfit will not have the desired effect. Sure, it will still have the desired outcome, but not the point.

Time spent waiting for the bathroom.
Guys have no idea. Well, maybe they do because as a result of their evolutionary development of: stand, pee, don't look left, don't look right, shake, flush, wash hands, dry hands, recontaminate hands on the door handle as they leave. They have to wait for us who, because of our refusal to learn evolution in how to pee quickly; stand in line outside the bathroom. Make new friends. Wait in line inside the bathroom. Compliment the new friend. Laugh about something that you both find utterly ridiculous and yet totally hilarious. Go into stall. Look at the seat. Wipe the seat. Put a layer of toilet paper down on the seat. Pee. Because of the ability to sit while I pee, ponder life's bigger problems. Wipe. Flush. Adjust boobs. Wash hands to a full lather. Dry hands. Comb hair. Fluff hair. Reapply lip gloss. Compliment someone on something. Look at my ass. Check outfit. Look at my boobs. Check out the other women in the bathroom. Fluff hair again. Check teeth. Catch reflection one more time. Leave bathroom. Try to not touch the door handle on my way out of the bathroom to totally contaminate my hands with the germs that have yet to reach their full third eye gill to land potential. Meet the man waiting for me outside the bathroom. Smile at said man and apologize for the wait, but not really be sorry at all.

Yeah.
I'll be honest. I really just want all the money back that I've wasted on hose. I enjoy making new friends.

I'd like my potatoes fermented, thanks

The day of giving thanks is next week and as is tradition and keeping with gender role stereotypes I was talking with my mama about what I would be bringing, what time I will show up to help and more importantly what I would like at the Turkey Day table.

PG: Vodka.

Mama: You can't have just vodka.

PG: Yeah I can.

Mama: You don't want anything else but vodka. (It wasn't really said as a question. More of a statement really.)

PG: Nope.

Mama: Any particular kind you would like me to get?

PG: Stoli. Not Skol(i). (There was a mix-up last year Turkey Day. An emergency trip to the grocery store was called for. Let's see, five dollar vodka, twenty dollar vodka.)

Mama: Okay. Vodka.

Conversation today:

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah......

Mama: So, the only thing you want is, vodka, you don't want me to fix anything else for you?

PG: Nope. Just vodka.

Mama: Any kind of mixers....anything...?

PG: Hmm, no. Well, cranberry juice. Good for the urinary system, good for the continuous vodka drinking.

Mama: Okay. Vodka it is.

I love my mama. Our level of communication needs no explanation.

Last night at the bar:

Before the Cute Waitress Girl could even say, 'Hi, my name is.."

PG: I'll take a double vodka cranberry.

Two drinks later and not liking the level of redness in my beverage.

PG: Hi, are you sure this is a double?

Cute Waitress Girl: Yeah, does it not taste like it?

PG: No. Too red. I want it to be pink. Strong. I want to take one drink and say, "Oh, hello. My name is, Drunk."

CWG: No, problem. I'll get you some more vodka.

One over-flowing shot glass later....

CWG: How's that tasting?

PG: Ooohhh, much better. See, it's pink. Not red. That's what I want. Not red. Pink.

Three doubles later with a total of 7 shots of vodka, yeah. I was feeling much better.

word origins: everyday quotes

Continuing with the theme...

Did you know Shakespeare introduced over 3,000 words into the English language? Yep, that's right, good 'ol Shakes.
He is also responsible for many quotes that we say everyday. Here is a sample:

It’s Greek to me,” “if you recall your salad days,” as the years spent in college. If a set of car keys have “vanished into thin air.” If a co-worker “refused to budge and inch.” When a person saw their ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend and then “suffered from green-eyed jealousy.” If a person has ever been, “hoodwinked,” or “tongue-tied,” and then found themselves “in a pickle.” When faced with a tough decision and still managed to be “the tower of strength.” If the deer in the middle of the road was, “dead as a door-nail.” Stood before someone who was the “the devil incarnate” then Shakespeare has been quoted.

inner dork: Elizabethan grammar

Hey boys and girls guess what day it is?!?!?! That's right, it's Inner Dork Thursday! YAH!!

Okay, I'm totally cheating. Well, kind of. I am currently working on a paper about the differences between Elizabethan grammar to modern grammar and the influences Shakespeare has had on the English language. It is actually pretty fascinating. Well, okay, I think it's fascinating and well, frankly that's all that matters. Okay, not really cause I want you guys to be all impressed and stuff with my vast and scary knowledge of all things useless and interesting.


So, did you know....

Elizabethan English is only one linguistic generation removed from the English we speak today. The principles between the two are generally the same. There are some dialect differences and some prepositional usage and verb agreement anomalies as well as some words that have dropped from use and many others where the meaning has changed completely. The Tudor/Elizabethan alphabet contained 24 letters opposed to today’s 26 letters. In the Tudor/Elizabethan alphabet the letters “u” and “v” were considered the same letter as were “i” and “j. The letter “j” was most commonly used as the capital form of the “i” in the alphabet. The letter “u” was commonly used only in the middle of a word, and the “v” was commonly used only at the beginning of a word. Another difference between the Tudor/Elizabethan alphabet to today’s alphabet is the letter “y” which was used to represent the “th” sound for example, the word, “the” was written as “ye”. Many words were also spelled using an additional “e” at the end and many numbers were represented by letters in the lower case when representing Roman numerals, with the last “i” in the number written as a “j” for example, viij March.

I know. It is fascinating, isn't it?

how to make a woman's day each and every time

So today I was feeling fine, not outstanding, just my usual self. Then all of the time and effort I put into a paper yesterday mysteriously vanished from the time I went to bed last night to the time I got into work this morning, so you know, eight hours. Eh, what can you do.

Then a fellow employee came up to me and said this:

"Well, um. Well, I'm just going to come right out and say it, you look damn sexy today in that outfit. Damn sexy"

Yep. That'll improve a girl's mood everytime.
I thanked him several times for brightening my day.

He thanked me several times for wearing the outfit and told me that he has already had numerous fantasies about me today and he plans to continue with them.

Ah, thanks.

That concludes today's lesson. Class dismissed.

disconcerting moment of the day

Told to me by an instructor:

When she asked her class to name the major religion of Israel, no one could.

When I asked her if they at least made an attempt to thrown something out, any religion any religion at all say, oh I don't know, Christianity.

She said they did say Christianity and Islam.

I wanted to make sure I heard her correctly. "You said, Israel, right?"

"Yep."

I then told her I was going to ask her a question, but then realized how dumb the question would have been to ask. I was going to ask if they knew the history behind Israel and why there is such turmoil in the country. Obviously if they don't even know what the dominate religion is they aren't going to know the history of the country.

Oh, we got a good laugh out of that one.

I sat and stared. Sadly it wasn't in stunned disbelief.

I just shake my head and hang it in shame.

College, people. This is college.

a salute

To our veterans
Because they give their lives to what many are only willing to give a voice to.
Because freedom comes at a price.
Because we say we need heroes yet, they are all around us right here in
the everyday.

word origin: the whole nine yards

The yards in question have nothing to do with sports. Sorry.

It originally referred to the amount of fabric a customer purchased from a tailor to make a suit. Whan a tailor used the whole nine yards, it meant he hadn't been stingy with the cloth.

inner dork: vestal virgins

Did you know...

Vestal virgins have been around since before Christ. Vesta, the Roman goddess the virgins honored, was the oldest daughter of Saturn. She never married, but dedicated herself to hearth and home. Vesta evolved into quite the matriarch, commanding a circular temple that stood in the center of Rome. Every Roman house had a shrine to Vesta, and every meal began and ended with an offering to Vesta.
So, what about the virgins?
They, the virgins, were actually priestesses who kept watch over a sacred fire that burned in Vesta's temple. The custom began in primitive times, when fires were difficult to make. (So, before Bic and Zippo) People would obtain fire from the local chief, (the fire chief?) whose daughters kept a flame burning at all times. (A flame of love, baby) Eventually fire making became routine, but the vestal virgins must have appealed to the Romans, who kept six virgins posted in Vesta's temple round the clock, keeping the city's home fire aglow. (So, I guess lose virignity out a job, huh?)

just askin'

How long do you think it was between the first rubber band coming off the assembly line to the first rubber band being shot at an unsuspecting co-worker?

Power of One: You

Now, go vote.

any club that would have me as a member...

chances are, I started the club.

Phone conversation with Billy...

Billy: "Turn on BBC."
PG: "K."
Billy: "There's a show on that I thought you could relate to."
PG: Flipping the channel to BBC, "My 100,000 lovers?"
Billy:"Uh-huh, I thought it was a subject you'd know something about."
PG: "Okay, first, you're such a bitch. Second, That's not even possible."
Several minutes later...all of which were spent laughing and questioning why I'm friends with him...
PG: A preview comes on."Okay, there's a show on BBC called, 'Mile High Club' and it looks very slutty and sex-filled."
Billy: "Hmmm, something else you can relate to."
PG: "Oh, yeah. Hello, air head. The Mile High Club is a fun club to be in. I need to take advantage of my membership more often."

Apathy? What's that?

After reading the headline in the school newspaper, "Students don't care" and then reading the article only to find out what they don't care about is this upcoming election, but more than that, students don't care about anything to do with America today. Unless it has to do with money, clothes, their car, their new i-pod, cell phone...name anything else material...they don't care about anything of substance.

After speaking with several students about the lack of empathy for the war, government, the election, about anything. They stated the main reason they don't care is because the politicians don't care about them. They (students) are nothing more than a sound bite and a hopeful vote for, pick any politician. So, based on that, why should they care? Why should they vote? The war doesn't directly impact them because they know they won't get drafted. Therefore, the war is b.s., but ultimately in the long run, who cares. They're safe here at home. Which leaves me to question the males who went on their 18th birthday to register, did they just see it as an obligation, and did they take into consideration at all about what it was they were signing? My answer was in the expression on their faces. The answer was clearly, no.

I saw their point and I knew that anything I had to say would just fall on ears filled with i-pod headphones.

However, what I see lacking in the youth of America and what I find most disturbing is the feeling and the sense that they matter. That one person can make a difference and that one person can change the world or the world of one person on any given day. When I was 19 my plan was to go to South America and save the rainforests and god dammit! I was going to do it all by myself if it came to that!
Obviously the full level of my cynicism didn't happen until a few years later.

I understand that they have seen and experienced images, and lies, and more political spin than most of us seen before we attended our first college frat party, but still. Where's the hope? If the hope is dead already, then god, I don't want to know the level of cynicism in 10-20 years. If they aren't willing to go vote, or even willing to register to vote, then I don't see a commitment happening in their future of making it to the ballot box come election day when they have kids and are living in a different shade of beige in suburbia USA.

I don't know what the answer is other than trying to get the message across to one person at a time and hopefully it catches onto the next and then the next. Call me hopeful that something as simple as open conversation could cause such a radical effect. However, someone needs to wear rose colored glasses, I'll be happy to volunteer.

If you're looking for your daily dose of, can do it-ness, please, read the following article. Regardless of your political affiliation I think we can all use a little, hell ya, this morning. color me inspired.

word origin: quid pro quo and cahoots

Quid pro quo comes from Latin and basically means, 'tit for tat.' However, to hear someone in power say, 'tit for tat' just doesn't have the same, umph as, quid pro quo. In political and business worlds it's now Latin for, 'you vote for my bill and I'll vote for yours.'

Cahoots:
The term comes from the Middle Ages and is derived from the German word, "kajuetes."

When Germany was thick with thieves and bandits, many of whom lived near the Black Forest in shacks called, kajuetes. When several bandits lived together they were in kajuete with each other.

The phrase has survived and has come to describe two or more people who are up to no good.


Let's use the two together in a sentence, "All politicans are in cahoots with each other and expect a quid pro quo relationship with those in their own political party."

Good job. Gold star.

inner dork: the fourth estate

Did you know...

Let's start with the first three estates and go from there.

The first three estates signified the classes of men's activities during the feudal era in Europe, which began about A.D. 850. These activities amounted to praying, fighting, and working the land for food. Thus the first estate was the clergy, the second estate was nobility, which included kings, and warriors. The third estate was everyone else, but consisted mostly of peasant farmers. Eventually the members of these estates came to be known in England as lords spiritual, lords temporal, and commons (hence the House of Lords and the House of Commons).

The concept of a fourth estate is believed to have originated in 1828, when Thomas Babington Macaulay referred to a group of news reporters as "a fourth estate of the realm." Soon the 'fourth estate" was a popular nickname for members of the newspaper profession. Later its meaning expanded to include any influential aspect of English political life that was not the government i.e. the army or the news media regarding anything in radio, TV, or print.