Here comes the baby sister

During my afternoon nap, my little sister, my only sibling, called me to tell me her boyfriend had proposed this morning on their Minnesota vacation. I have been kind of reeling all day. This is a sharp reminder of how much I miss my family and the things I miss out on having moved away. I wondered about what was going on with my parents and how my mom was feeling. I enjoyed the thought of my big-kid dad having to keep this secret to himself for two weeks. This is the man who, unable to keep secrets or gifts under wraps, first let us begin opening a single gift on Christmas Eve. Then it was half of our gifts and now all gifts are opened the night before Christmas. Stockings are still saved for Christmas morning but I get the sense that even that is a trial for him.

Part of me is surprised because my sister is my little sister, now 20, and I'm sure she'll always feel like that to me. My great aunt, who's 86, still babies my grandmother who is 83. I guess that being a big sister never leaves you. Part of it might be my crushing fear of commitment, hell, I could only get myself to sign a six-month-lease on my apartment. I haven't heard any details about what they're thinking for a wedding. All I know is that she'll be a beautiful bride and I'll get hammered at the reception.

And I hate that there is even a single part of me that feels a pang of exclusion but that's how I feel. I am absolutely happy for my sister; her boyfriend is a really sweet guy and they're perfect for one another. At the same time, as a sort of pseudo matriarch of the family, a tiny part of me feels like an old maid. My family is in general well-educated but there is still a traditional sense of value in married life and children. The thought of people pitying me or making comments because she will be married first is exhausting. I know how those conversations will go b/c I've heard them over and over about other family and friends from back home. I know that we are very different people and I've had lots of experiences she hasn't because our interests and goals are so diverse. Maybe she thinks sometimes about moving away, I don't know. But it's not about me, it's about Kat.

Deep down, I just can't wait to see the ring. It sounds really beautiful.

You're So bitter you think he's sweet

"well he's wrong for you I swear."

I have been a slacker about writing. Planning and writing notes go to waste when I don't have the self-drive to put it into concrete form. The one thing I promised myself about this blog is that I would be truthful and honest about what's going on in my life. It's terrible when love affairs, even insignificant ones, interrupt your flow. Wait for more coolness to come from Your Mom...well, you know what I mean.

Look both ways!

Now, I don't mean to say all Colorado people are chew on a shoe crazy. But there are more insane pedestrians in this city than I've ever seen anywhere - and I'm counting San Francisco AND Ft. Lauderdale which have between them a insane number of yoo hoo's on the street. It's not to say that there are a lot of insane or mentally ill residents, I mean literally people on the streets. Pedestrians in this fair city seem to ignore the rules of traffic and seem to have no qualms about walking out into oncoming cars. I wonder if it's that perhaps Denverites are more exact, more calculating in their pathways. It's not enough for them to take patterns at right-angle intersections, they need to go directly to their destination; moving vehicles be damned. Perhaps the high altitude skews the brain's natural sense of cartography. This evening on my drive home I saw a group of people, three adults to be exact, cross six lanes of traffic TWICE. Together they ran, undaunted between cars, MOVING CARS and then back again.

At one point, one of the men started to bark at people in their cars. He was quite an intimidating figure - tattoos, shaved head, crazy hollow eyes and dirty overalls complimented by a dingy beater tank. Not alone in his journey, he was accompanied by a whooping girl wearing short short cut-off's and yellow, bleached hair and another companion running with a full, gas station soda. While I found the situation less than ideal after a long day at work - I was most amused by the reaction of the yuppie in the Honda in front of me. As the barking man passed his car he did the stare-ahead, pretend nothing is happening look. Once Barker had passed, Yuppie stared out the driver's side window with a death glare. The glare of man defending his territory, a primeval, instinctive glare bore down on the back of the unknowing barker as crossed three more lanes and was on his way. Fierce, burning stare with the questioning look so obvious on his face: Do I call the police? Do I do something? How can I not?!? This is MY street, I'm the one in a Honda! Becoming more and more simplistic. Turning as if to find something on the passenger's seat, perhaps in his attache. Where's my club? Man in oxford tough!

It was amazing, it was so instinctive - but alas, fleeting. I guess that rolled-up car windows block both UV rays and yuppie stare downs.

Cap'n Jack is BACK!

I just saw Pirates of the Carribean II. It was AMAZING. I am still so excited and flustered I think I have a fever. It was a packed house at the amazing United Artists theater in downtown Denver. I won't spoil, but there's a huge shocker ending! I am so in love.

I am still a child, when it comes to something wild

I spent my Independence Day weekend remitting my beloved grandparents to an assisted living apartment; giving up their independence. I gave up a lot to get to be there for my grandmother, who is my familial best friend, and had to leave her crying in her apartment. I get made fun of a lot for being a Jimmy Buffet fan, but when it comes to the fourth of July I think of this song. "The Night I Painted the Sky" It reminds me of nights like this past Monday, when my Uncle and is family, and my best friend, joined us for cheap fireworks and decadent sundaes in the hot Nebraska night. Everyone quits bickering, and picking at one another, and one fifth of the Stewarts (12) are still and sitting for more than five minutes. It's like a deep sigh in the middle of a crowded football game. If you enjoy this song, check out this album. I think it's both delicate and fun.

It's the child in me, selfish as it sounds, who can't say goodbye to the old house on Washington Street, now decrepit and falling down. I walked into the kitchen, during the move, and pressed my hand against the oak paneling and felt, for sure, it was not only my grandparents who were moving on but a goodbye to my home too.

I just did some poon

And not in the way that the boys would wish. Tonight I went out with a friend, her boyfriend, and the boyfriend's roomie. The roomie = n'est pas gentil. So my gfriend and her boyfriend took off in a dead we're-gonna-screw- dead run. And I don't blame them! I miss my Frenchman tonight. But they left me with the roomie, who when drunk can either a) come to blows w/said Dannielle and almost did tonight or b) be very nice. So the roommate was left behind; not so coyly grabbing my breasts and hitting on me. And so I decided to leave him, on some random street, asking him, "Are you a man? Are you afraid? Because I'm going home alone but if you're afraid I'll walk with you." With the total intention of ditching this creepy grabbo. So I left him, only two blocks from my house, on my bike, realizing that I HADN'T PAID MY TAB. The horror. I am freely and willingly able to abort the rules when given the chance, but I do not - I repeat, do NOT, leave a tab. So I call 411, got the name of the bar, and apologized. I then disassembled my bike, loaded it up, and drove back. Upon my arrival, the bar tenders were so excited that I came back, the three of us - Elisse, Nick and I - did a "poon tang." Which is like a mixture of some millions of alcohol and Red Bull (gag) but it was actually good. I did the right thing - and was rewarded w/more alcohol! Yeah for honesty!

RIP, little Dell

I had my brand new Dell laptop for a grand total of...SIX days. And yesterday, as I clicked "GOOGLE" to find a court reporting trade pub, it froze. It didn't just freeze though - even the mouse shut off and it was if I was suddenly in the movie powder. There was a flash of light, and in an instant, I knew that the Dell was gone. We tried to restart but the keyboard wasn't talking to the mother board. We tried to power-restart, to "close it's eyes" if you will. It wouldn't even powder back on. So we let everything sit and cool-down, knowing that these new Intel Centrino dual core mumbo jumbo processors are running really hot. And what did we get therefore? It quickly flashed the Latitude black and white startup, and then, a dark screen with a blinking cursor. The Dell had died, right before my very eyes! I guess if it had to happen, I'm glad it did it now, before I was months down the road and full of files. But now all my email is gone, my work so far, and I gotta be honest, I'm not a happy camper. It's like that new Mac spot with the PC and the Mac, and the PC freezes, "I'll go get IT," I said.

Please don't make me do it

This is my friend Dan, cool name, eh? Dan looks like a nice, normal guy but is actually crazy-go-nuts-university. He is going to run TWO marathons in ONE WEEK this fall. The first is the Chicago Marathon on October 22, the second is in D.C. on October 29. Now, I would usually point and laugh at someone for running on purpose, but Dan is running for the Lukemia and Lymphoma Society through their "Team in Training Program." Dan is going to run in honor of Kirsten, a kindergartener from Lincoln who began her battle with cancer last fall. There is a kickin' site where you can donate to Dan's cause and track his progress...and every move. Let's push him over the top of his goal! Just point me in the direction of the celebratory party b/c I know he'll kick ass.

Congrats to the Keeme

Congrats to the Keeme of the KeemeCast on this weekend's OS #1 wedding and more importantly, on his forthcoming dowry goat.

Halloumi UPDATE! UPDATE

Halloumi is carried by "Whole Foods" markets!!! I asked the deli counter boy for some, he found one left and told me "I was very lucky." Apparently it's flying off of shelves. I wanted to point out to him that this isn't communist Russia and I wasn't looking for potty paper, I was looking for specialty cheese from Cyprus at a Whole Foods, but I was so excited I wet myself a little and ran to the express lane.

Eat my nummies

B/c I am such a foodie (my new favorite term) these are my picks for nummies for this week:

Halloumi = fucking orgasmic cooking cheese from Cyprus. It's very hard to find, I haven't found anywhere in Denver that carries it yet but it is unbelievably wonderful. I had some at Bristol Farms in Newport Beach and then we bought some to cook. A friend actually did them on skewers with other meats but you can cook it in a pan. It has a more fibrous consistency like tofu without the taste of feet and more like the taste of a first kiss. Find it, try it, love me! Wait, sorry, got carried away.

Mezetta, who makes some of my favorite pre-packaged salad treats is making new (whole clove stuffed) Garlic Olives MARINATED in - get this - brine and Napa Valley Chardonnay. Holy shit they're good; I have quite a few friends who love the gourmet green olives, these are awesome w/out the hassle of blue cheese stuffing.

Smoking Loon Merlot, a cheap but tasty bottle common in some areas as a nice house red, is a light, nice red to accompany any dinner. I love my chardonnay and if you're serving cold cheese with appetizers like veggies I "suppose" you should serve a white but tempt fate! I dare you. As a poor NOW EMPLOYED I am toasting myself with a nice light glass. I wanted to try some of this Chateauneuf du Pape comme mes amis, c'est trop cher pour cette fille.

Best lunch ever! I had a crab sandwich in Newport Beach with the delovely Shelly from AirFerg I had a traditional broiled crab sandwich that blew away our tiny pea brains, and when picking apart my rich and delicious dish we got the secret! Take sourdough (always best on the West Coast and San Fran, but you can choose a hard white bread, it might even be good with a bagette) and place it open faced on a pan. Baste with butter both sides of each piece of bread. THEN, sprinkle sugar on both pieces of bread. Use a light or lightly seasoned mayo if you choose on top of the sugar; place your cooked crab (we had blue) and place a slice of swiss cheese on each piece of bread. Broil. You will be a happy camper.

I just jammed my pants

Thanks a lot, Jawbone. For the love of pearl run, DON'T walk, to Jawbone Radio podcast. The dynamic duo of Len and Nora has scored an interview with THE Michael J. Nelson of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Don't be a fool, it's so good. Holy chipotle, I have such a crush on this guy.

"Cal honey, put your shoes on, we're at Grandma's. Where can I empty my hat?"

My first day!

Today is my first day! Woot woot! I am very excited but have an unfortunate cough I believe is soley due to my needs for some monkey lungs. I hope that:

• I don't spill hot coffee on anyone
• No accidental nervous toots in front of the new staff
• The Regal Beagle has no problems
• I kick some ass, of course, but first days are like finding out where paper clips and the potty are
• My monkey lungs arrive

Intense body of work

Sunday Lynn and I traversed all 10 blocks down Colorado Blvd in the Regal Beagle to see "BodyWorlds 2: The Anatomical Exhibition of Real Human Bodies" at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science. It was definitely an intense experience and while I have been wanting to go for quite some time, had quite an arresting sense of nervousness as we approached the entrance. Among hundreds upon hundreds of other people our group was corraled into a small containment area before entering - and were informed that a) EVERYTHING was real b) we couldn't leave and return c) THE BODIES WEREN'T UNDER GLASS so keep "little ones" from TOUCHING THE BODIES.

Using a resin process called Plastination, Gunther von Hagen preserves the body with striking natural color and form. The bodies on display are quite artfully posed, using a combination of an action with the way in which that particular was dissected. For instance, a woman called "Angel" is posed with her trapezius and shoulder muscles lifted and upheld as wings, exposing inner organs from the back to the front. It was really intersting, and if you have the chance I would definitely encourage you to go. Lynn was more upset by the hair, many bodies still had fingernails, eyebrows, and eyelashes. That made them seem much more real and human. It was really intense and by the end I was quite ready to be gone.

Are you clipping like a bitch?

Last night I made an impromtu visit on the AirFerg Bonus Feed #29. I sound like a bunghole but Ferg and Shelly are so much fun. Check it out. Ack, it's hard to listen to yourself, especially if you're me.

Hands on a miracle

I used to think that making friends was a matter of gregarious and open manner, and a matter of karma. I have discovered it's mostly karma, and I have been mostly spoiled. Guess who's coming to see me! I hope she's fine, and I'm sure she is. Oh yeah! Denver "rulz." Check it baby, we'z going to see the Rockies in action!

Today's Song of the Day, in honor of my guest, is "Hands on a Miracle" by the Foo. The Foo Fighters, come on now. No one NEEDS a link for that. :)

Taming the beast!

Trying really hard to get back to regular postings - I am in the middle of upgrading my operating system thanks to a gift from some sexy, wonderful friends out west! Love you! This will allow me to Skype into Borderline with a mic instead of participating via phone. It's gonna be grrrrrrrreat!

Vapid

That's what has become of the Dannielle. I miss my friends, my beautiful friends who care about how I am and, in reciprocity, I care about how they are. Not in a way that you're interested about your great-aunt's aunt's husband, I care that my friends are okay, and not sick and hopefully happy - and if they're not I'll make sure they're okay. We each have our demons, some of us darker and more demonic than others. I am not scared. I was thinking of an ex-lover this week and how it felt to be in his bed. Unfulfilling yet lovely. I was thinking of those times that I hurt myself, hurt others. Today's song is "I Will Follow You into the Dark," by Death Cab for Cutie. I hope my readers are more happy than I this week.

*happy smile*

Thanks for all of your support!

Arrrrrgh, time for yee to walk the plank

<--- "...and this ma'am, is a crappy logo I did in college..."

I am preparing for my big second job interview today, reviewing my portfolio and trying to find "very casual" but dressy clothes for my Starbucks meeting. So far this morning, I've already smashed my fourth toe, making it turn all purple under the nail, and woke up with pink eye...again! This gal is going to think I'm some kind of one-eyed pirate leper. This morning I woke up extra early, already nervous and kind of excited. I need this job! Oh, I need good luck...and some coffee!

I am OUT OF BED! Whoo hoo!

After returning home Tuesday evening from a trip home over the weekend, I spent almost all of yesterday in bed. I think all of the meds, and sickness, and travel caught up to me. I am out of bed this morning AND I took a shower! Hold the phone, I think it's alive...and ready to kick some ass.

With our hearts together but our hands apart

Today's song of the day might require a little searching, if you need help accessing it, email me. I listened to this song about 100 times on my drive back from Nebraska and it made me think of Lynn and my friends from home. And I cried - a lot. But it's a groovy little ditty. This is from Josh Ritter's first, self-titled album. Today's Song of the Day is "Paths will Cross." Enjoy!

Is anyone else seeing starfish on the walls?

Made it back to Lincoln, stayed with the lovely and my only Neil last night. Half way through the drive I wanted to quit. Not good when it's around 530 miles total. I went to my old family GP today b/c I couldn't take the overwhelming sickness anymore. I got among other things: an inhaler (my first! I'm so proud), antibiotics, antihistamines (which I can't afford so f*ck that) and a cough syrup - with hydrocodone in it! Life is frickin' great. The walls melting for you too? Oh, just me.

Eyes and teeth, eyes and teeth

I am trying to get ready for a big job interview. A) I knicked myself shaving and had to the toilet paper graft to stop the bleeding from an unnoticed bug bite that got sliced off B) I still sound like a 13 year old boy C) I smell like a giant HALLS cough drop D) this is in the "Denver Tech Center," it's possible I may never find my way out. Please friends, send me positive vibes! :)

Omaha-ns, Lee Terry Eviscerated on The Colbert Report

I got a desperate yet excited phone call from my sister yesterday, declaring that Nebraska's 2nd Congressional Rep., the asshat Republican Lee Terry, was on The Colbert Report. This hits home in a few ways - as obviously, I am FROM Nebraska's second district, Lee Terry lives in Valley, where my parents, Lynnie and Terry's caustic, hateful bitch-ass wife reside, Omaha Steaks owner Kathy Simons was my high school mentor (see the CC story) and as I've stated before - I love Stephen Colbert. In my desperation to find this video clip I stumbled upon a delicious New Nebraskan blog entry about the interview. You can view the clip on the Comedy Central Web site, but I could only hear that audio b/c of my danged old compy. This is a hilarious look at where we grew up, and our douchebag Congressional representative. I am trying to find the original broadcast date, I believe that it's May 10 if you want to download it from iTunes.

So much funny, brain...overheating...

Welcome Cadence!

And with that, another Stewart derivative takes to Earth. DUN DUN DUN. Almost as scary as the Stay Puft man...nawwww.

Stay PUFT!

Dun dun dun...

Nice Hummer

Yesterday I went to the DMV b/c in the process of applying for my passport I need a valid ID that matches my current residence or at least is in the same state. So, I hauled my fanny down, pink eye and all, to the Denver DMV. Now, funny enough, in Denver proper there is only actually ONE DMV building and it's in the southwestern part of town, in a really depreciated neighborhood. It's odd to see Lexus SUVs and even nice little compact cars in the lot, it seems out of place. The building which appears to be an old grocery store is ill-designed for the massive number of people there. A stinky pack of PWT, two guys and a girl, engaged in an awkward and public flirting threesome. I had thankfully brought along my iPod for entertainment b/c I stood in line about an hour and a half. Now, as much as I complained about renewing my license back home, it was a dream compared to this. I had to wear my glasses and when it was finally my turn thought I was going to actually fail the eye test, I couldn't read the line of letters at the top. My photo, I have a feeling, is going to look like a mug shot - worst picture of me ever. And not only that, I won't receive the actual license for 30 days. Argh!

Overheard conversation behind me:
[yuppie, 8' 16-year-old girl]: Daddy, daddy, I want to call mommy and tell her I passed!
[yuppie dad to over-sunglassed, now I've made it even w/a neck tattoo guy]: Nice Hummer you got out there. How long have you had it?
[Sunglasses]: I bought it for Christmas, so just since December
[yuppie 16-year-old]: I'm going to tell mommy first that I failed. Daddy, give me a phone.
[yuppie daddy]: How is that on gas mileage.
[Sunglasses]: Well, it got about 12 to 14 mpg, but after I put on the rims and tires it gets about 8 mpg
[Yuppie daddy]: Wow, that's tough
[Sunglasses]: Yeah, it costs be about $85 each time to fill it up
[Yuppie giant girl]: Mommy, I passed, so you have to give up that extra garage stall! Daddy will have to move the BMW to his side

The conversation then devolved into discussions of skiing v. snowboarding and I threw up in my mouth a little, turned up On the Media and waited for the soothing sounds of Bob Garfield to carry me away.

Little Miss Evil's got a way with people

This next song really doesn't have anything to do with anything except my BFF loves it and so it makes me think of her. Today's Song of the Day is "Forget My Name" by Danko Jones. Rock n' roll, Lynnie. I probably will in fact burn in hell with you. ;)

$20k for Americans

We just got done with our much anticipated "Scary movie night" here at the D-dawg & Roommate pad. I admit, I was stoned on TheraFlu for much of the duration, but we watched honestly two lame-ass movies. The first movie was "Wolf Creek," an Australian flick based on the alleged true-life event of three young backpackers and those who came (and went, alack) before them. It was okay, usually I prefer the based-on-a-real-story type thrillers, whereas this was meh, okay. I have a ringing in my ear that's infected such that I have an actual ECHO in my own ear! This makes screaming and high-pitched minor notes on the violin much more intense. Plus, that made it impossible for me to understand the Australians. Fortunately - not much talky talky. This movie was okay, I would give it 100 out of 1000 stars.

The next movie, the much ballyhooed "Hostel" starring Jay Hernandez had something I felt like the first movie lacked - a triumphant end. However, the first forty minutes of the film were honestly just porn. So I can imagine that high school to thirty-something guys got into it. So much t & a I felt like I should actually HAVE penis to be watching it, you know, as a pre-req. Honestly, I kind of wanted to see all three get a good axing, they were kind of pigs! Two of the three mains characters disappear pretty quickly after the porn fantasy ends and Hernandez, as "Paxton" is able to escape (albeit w/quite some difficulty) only to run into the bad guy down the line... and SHAZAM! Comeuppance! He's a man on the edge! Forgetting, of course, that he would have been in shock hours and hours prior to this and probably would have bled out and died. At least let the man give himself a tourniquet. I had been excited b/c I had heard this movie was really scary. Sources say: icky and lame. I give it 20 stars and a Pepto-Bismol.

Do I stay or do I go?

I am not going to give some detailed explanation. I shall spare you, I just feel like today's Song of the Day is fitting for the Denver atomosphere. It's hot here today, take a walk and get yourself some ice cream. Enjoy: "Fairest of the Seasons" by husky voiced, iconic rock songstress Nico.

Cool Nerd Alert #1

"Rick Steves' Europe" is an awesome show played here in the states on PBS. I love this show and I don't care who knows it, making Rick Steves my first Cool Nerd Alert. A tour guide by trade, he has written books as well as having radio and television programs. For someone like me, who has not yet been able to travel to Europe, it's a delightful eye candy feast of scenery, food, people, customs, art and culture through the eyes of an easy-going American nerd. He's relatable b/c he's not some overly-muscled x-treme sports fanatic going at everything w/out reserve or someone who will pretentiously review only a city's four-star offerings. Je l'adore! In the states, you can find listings at www.pbs.org.

Mommy!!!

I have pissed off the disease gods. I am at home with pink eye (both eyes), sinus and ear infections (both of the them), and a UTI. I just made myself walk down to Panera for some Greek salad goodness and get off of the couch for the first time in approx. 3 days. I have been showering twice a day, so I wasn't too terribly stinky. I hate not having health insurance, it cost me $100 just to get antibiotics for the UTI and I'm just going to try to wait out the others. So I'm crusty and squinty and have to refill another prescription, which will cost me another billion dollars or so. I guess I am going to walk myself down to the pharmacy. I was trying to explain to my neighborhood clinic that I couldn't afford to go back to another doctor to get a scrip for eye drops, and I almost started crying. It was that terrible feeling when you're sick, and you can't be rational or make decisions, and I just wanted my mommy. I have lots of nice friends here, but my roommate was gone and others were busy - and it felt v. lonely to be sick and by myself. I am anxious about the wedding we have to shoot this weekend, but will be happy for some hugs and maybe some home cooking. Blech, my ears hurt!

If you love fast food, stop here

In college I read a book called, "Fast Food Nation" for a philosophy of modern issues class. Written by journalist Eric Schlosser in fact-style writing, this book is a time-traveling look at the fast food industry and those built up around the rise of a Fast Food Nation. This includes the realities of today's industrial environment including the use and abuse of immigrant labor, animal treatment and welfare, and the safety of the food millions consume each day. I happened to see that they have made a movie of this amazing, muck-raker style book called Fast Food Nation - The Movie based on Schlosser's work and stars one of my favs, the delicious Greg Kinnear. It's a featured video today on YouTube, check it out. Honestly, this book is moving, I read the book, millions have read the book, but I never stopped eating fast food. What does that say about us?

Oh yeah! I bet I can care even LESS!

Blanket apology to friends and family (not that any of them know about / read this blog) for my poor attitude this week and lack of communication. I am just having a hard time and can't seen to get my balance. My week isn't getting any better, I'm taking myself out this afternoon (it's time to walk the Dan) and maybe that will help. Sometimes it's hard, even when you know you should, to keep your chin(s) up.

Great Song of the Day sent to me by an awesome friend. It's "Fire Sign" by David Berkeley - thanks much for the song dude.

Photo by J. Lynn Batten, 2006

We all feel this way sometimes

Oh yeah, I'm taking it there. [makes rock n' roll hand sign, tongue out] Today's Song of the Day is "Soulshine" by Gov't Mule. And yes, I've seen them live and yes, it was for a boy. BUT, they were actually very cool and I had a great time. I feel like I need this song today.

Random Rundown

• Last night at the tavern someone put a cigarette out on my hand, was a fantastic blister pop this morning. Quite impressive.
• My annoying, pipsqueek of a "boss" got fired, thus relieving me of Rockies evil credit card duty. Hazah! Oh wait, now I have nothing nothing.
• I found Lynn's Bon Jovi Greatest hits album in my iTunes library, I love finding random shit like that. Lay your hands on me!
• This week I satisfied my 1x/2 years craving for Long John Silvers. Fish planks - it's both a pose, and a food, and a wooden walkway!
• This week a bird bath / planter showed up in my living room.
• On a mountain trail run on Saturday I encountered a swarm of bees on a narrow path; ran like hell and had no stings. They must have sense my awesomeness.
• Grey's Anatomy was so, so good except for the putting down of the dog; I sobbed like a little bitch. If you don't watch this show, you're a Class-A nerd.
• Learned how to download a new screen saver for my phone in manner of a nanna. Got "Classic Mickey" b/c I panicked and hit "buy."

We rarely practice discern

Fitting for today's issues, this is a groovy little diddy by Spoon. "The Way We Get By" is today's Song of the Day.

Am I being followed?!?

A friend of mine told me yesterday that I have a "persecution complex." I have been going over and over it in my mind and feeling really sad about this. "Persecution complex" is just a nicer way of saying, "It's all about me complex," and what hurts is that there is probably some validity to it. The context of the situation is that in the last couple of weeks I was very, very briefly involved with a kid that hangs out at my favorite neighborhood bar - a place, I might add, where I spend a great deal of time. Unfortunately, so does he. I hadn't heard from him and awkwardly ran into him last week at the bar. I tried to be genial and make conversation as a way to alleviate the weirdness. Not only had he not called me back (which was fine b/c the guy, to put it delicately, was as good as the weird, brown wrinkled fry you find inbetween the car seat and the floor months after your Happy Meal) but he was acting embarrassed and almost ashamed. How humiliating! He had walked by me in the bar, clearly had seen me, and told me later he hadn't. Awful! Not only did I make a poor choice by hooking up with this douchebag in the first place, I had to continue to see him and watch him act like I was some leper troll. So the other night, he came up to my friend and I asking after another regular we know. I answered but was curt, I mean, wtf. I don't really feel like I need to converse, and yet my curt behavior made me feel guilty. I hate that! I am finally being better about making clean cuts when something isn't good, he dicks around like a coward, and I feel GUILTY about not being nicer.

Now, I'm a grown woman and in no way am I evading responsibility. I made those choices, I knew what I was doing and am in no way a victim. I am more pissed at myself b/c not only did I have my blinders on b/c I was kind of lonely but now I am uncomfortable at a place that had become sort of my safe-haven. I do wish that he had just been a man, and called me, and in five minutes we could have had it all worked out and avoided the bar weirdness. I know that what this Douchebaggo thinks shouldn't hurt my feelings, but it does. As tough as I wish I could be it still hurts when you're rejected, no matter what the circumstances - even if you're rejected by a lame coward. And I was relating my less-than-classy curt conversation w/Douchebaggo, who had no business talking to me at the bar quite frankly, as well as discussing an upcoming trip with my friend when he gave me the label.

When I talk about what's going on in my life, it's not because I feel unfairly put upon, or persecuted, it's just how I deal with things. I am emotional, but only temporarily irrational. I work things out, or deal with even painful things, by talking (sometimes yelling) and just purging myself of bad feelings and then, give me five minutes, I'll laugh about it and move on. So when I'm upset, it's usually b/c I'm hurt. In this emotional state, it's hard for me to take feedback about other people's perspectives, or what I might misperceive or worse, what I am doing wrong because you can't rationalize feelings. I just need to vent and feedback like that is difficult to digest; it says to me, even though it's almost never the intent, that I should just be sucking it up, keeping my mouth shut, letting it go. That kind of feedback almost always comes from guy friends. It feels unfair and shameful. And I don't know how to change this about myself, I certainly can't be silenced ;) but how do I work that out without upsetting friends or seeming nutty? Is it the way I'm communicating or to whom?

This is part of my lifelong struggle, I have always been very sensitive and probably always will be. When someone says I need to lighten up, or not take something personally as also recently happened with another friend, it's like saying, quit being self-focused: quit being Dannielle. Because I do make things personal and they're not always about me, cognitively, I know that and I hate that part of me. It's like in the fourth grade we were reading, as a class, "Charlotte's Web" and I started sobbing. The story was so sad, and it seemed so unjust and unbearable but it was so embarrassing too. The trick is, this is the same part of me that makes me able to relate to other people easily, to be intuitive with friends and comfortable in new situations.

I think it's understandable that when your luck is poor for an amount of time, and you're feeling this big, to feel like you're being followed by the cartoon rainy cloud. Each consecutive thunderboldt is kind of a reminder that you're the wet loser and the bad stuff is sometimes more powerful and thus easier to focus on than the good stuff. Lately, I don't feel like I'm being persecuted, but I feel like I'm toxic and it's spilling over into social and personal relationships. I haven't had a successful relationship in more than two years, and even that is probably still a debatable label. The Danni is unloveable! And not only that, apparently so much so that grown men slink around bars to avoid her. I don't want to hide out but that's how I'm starting to feel. Don't get near me! Your hair will fall out, babies will cry, develop an unibrow, etc. So what people think of me or say seems more acute, sharper. I guess I need to really try to keep my eyes open and really try to keep myself in check because I definitely don't want to be the kind of person who makes every situation about herself and why the world is against her...and yet, lol, I just wrote an 8000 word blog about how I feel about myself. I am just having a hard year but it's not about me being persecuted. That being said, Douchebaggo tries to biz caz Fri talk to me again he's going to have a new spot for my pool stick.

Fall is here!....okay, not really

Danni's Song of the Day is We're Going to be Friends by the White Stripes. Let's all hope for positive karma for the week...including me getting a damn job. :)

"I make poor choices"

I haven't been making an accurate account of my life in the last couple of weeks. As much as I want this blog to always be honest, even of the things about me that are ugly or painful, some things are just too personal to give up. On the upshot, my pool game is at an all-time kick ass and I'm playing really well and I have made some really cool friends here in Denver. Today's Song of the Day is "Somebody I used to know" by the late, great Elliott Smith. For those of us with bruised feelings and a tender heart, this song is a beautiful fuck you to those we've mistakenly allowed near us. Is it time to go to Mexico yet?

Another awesome reason to visit Mexico

Mexico is only a presidential signature away from making the small-quantity possession of marijuana, cocaine, ecstasy and heroine "decriminalized." The Mexican government is claiming that by eliminating the need to find and prosecute individuals with small amounts of drugs, law-enforcement officials will be freer to investigate and pursue major drug sellers and traffickers. Naturally, the Bush White House has their panties in a wad because it wouldn't be particularly savvy of Bush to do what we all know he's doing at this point - his happy dance while planning his next vacation to Mexico to dapple in some bugger sugar.

I think this is a good time to make mention of the fact that demand for drugs is perfectly inelastic. Persecution of drug dealers decreases the supply of drugs and thus the cost is increased. However, the demand for drugs is perfectly inelastic and does not decrease despite the increase in cost. So, as costs increase the level of crime to fund the cost of drugs also rises. By legalizing drugs, thus increasing the supply and decreasing the cost, the level of overall crime to fund the demand would diminish. I would like to think that perhaps the US might take a less than knee-jerk reaction to this new development with our Southern neighbor and analyze what changes take place. I say, we legalize drugs but regulate them for purity and potency as you do with prescription medication or even, for that matter alcohol, decrease crime and increase the safety for those people already choosing to use illegal drugs.

Let me qualify by saying that I don't do drugs but I think especially for an economically challenged country, in desperate need of increased social programs and greater regulation of major drug trafficking, this is an efficient reallocation of resources. Also, let me add - I will be taking my next vacation in Cozumel.

Messengers have come and gone, but the struggle still goes on

In celebration of the success of this week's Day without Immigrant Labor for the advancement of immigrant rights I am picking a two-song duo: "Street guru (part one)" and "The preacher" by innovative musical producer and songwriter Nitin Sawhney for the Songs of the Day. I don't think there's a direct correlation, but I think especially the second song is a reflective, soulful and prophetic song. Plus, it's my blog so bite me. :) If you haven't heard his work before, you're in for a treat.

V. brilliant site for the birds and lads

I have just discovered a Web site that might, in fact, change my life. No more saying, "WTH does knackered mean?!? Please, tell me the word in American." Now, I can just look it up! This shall change all my correspondence with my beautiful UK blog readers and show listeners. One thing in particular has struck me and that is how MANY words the English have for idiot! Here is my English to American word of the Day , I believe that actually Superhot Supernanny gave us this word once.

whip round n. "A whip round is a collection of money - usually a somewhat impromptu and informal one. You might have a whip round for Big Mike's bus-fare home but you probably wouldn't have one for his triple heart bypass." I don't agree with their translation to American, I would think they would use a verb and "chip in" or "take up a collection"...in California someone might ask for some "fundage."

The boys from our own backyard

Featured break music from Borderline's Episode #53, "Worked Up So Sexual" by The Faint is the song of the day. The song was borrowed from the PodShow Podsafe Music Network, but The Faint is produced by Omaha's own Saddle Creek Records. Saddle Creek also produces Bright Eyes and Orenda Fink. Some members are currently on tour with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and you can read a review of that show by music maven J. Lynn on Borderline's site under the "After the Show" section.

It's an okapi!

My new zoo pics are up.

Song of the Day

In honor of Stephen Colbert, I am choosing "Eye of the Tiger," by Survivor. Is also v. good for running I've found. In the words of Ron Burgundy:

"I've often said the band survivor is the best that ever was. In my opinion they put rock music to bed. Everyone else is an imitator. That's right, you heard me Beatles, Rolling Stones, Bach, Beethoven, you guys suck...dong."

Stephen Colbert for Press Secretary

Saturday night Steven Colbert was the closing speaker at the White House Correspondents' Association Dinner. Many clips have been shown about the president's comedic foray along side impersonator Steve Bridges. While some clips are funny, Colbert proceeded to stand up at the podium and take everyone to task under the guise of his right-wing newsman from The Colbert Report. While the speech starts out with the same straight-faced wit that so many love on The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, it becomes obvious that the audience of officials, the president and first lady, and press corp members are the target and they become more and more uncomfortable. He pointed out Valerie Plame to the audience, and the "realizing" he had leaked her attendance, restated it was simply Joseph Wilson's wife. Colbert is witty, funny but cunningly honest about the White House Press Corp's responsibility, the White House's evasive and dishonest tactics and the media's failure as a watchdog for the people. Even long-time journalist and Helen Thomas makes a cameo in Colbert's pseudo-Press Secretary audition tapes, making it undeniably credible and hilarious. While the audience is left nearly silent at the conclusion, it's impact is deafening.

The lack of reaction from the audience and members of the press corp specifically demonstrates the media's negligence in questioning and participating during an arguably poor period in American history. The Washington Post article "All Kidding Aside" by Dan Froomkin cites this blog posting by Video Dog in Salon and best articulates what Colbert's speech revealed of the press - at an event that is ostensibly a good-humor, informal formal event to make superficial reparations between the White House and the press corp members that cover them.

"The proof of his accuracy lies in how badly the . . . Washington press corps reacted. After all, this wasn't the usual baby-soft slapstick they usually get at the correspondents' dinner . . . [F]or the most part the press sat on their hands -- while just moments before, they were laughing uproariously at President Bush's incredibly lame skit with a Bush impressionist. That was Colbert's real feat: Showing us the real Washington media world, where everyone worries so much about offending someone, anyone , that the least bit of frank talk turns them into obedient little church mice."

As a journalist, I think that while his speech was shocking it was something we should all be asking of the media, of our elected representatives and especially DEMANDING of Bush's public communications staff. Who besides Colbert would have the courage to stand up in front of hundreds of peers, the PRESIDENT AND FIRST LADY, members of the Supreme Court, the who's who of the press and eviscerate everyone in the room with the worst kind of weapon - the truth. What balls, I can't imagine even standing up in front of a group such as that let alone to deliver a speech with such poise.

Watch and enjoy. Warning: not for the faint of heart...or bladder.

Note: it doesn't seem like the text link is working, at least for me. Try a copy and paste if you have problems. http://movies.crooksandliars.com/WH-Dinner-Colber.mov

Danni et son hippopotome

01/01/06

Happy May Day!

I'd rather be the one who loves than to be loved and never even know

Lynn's is v. brilliant okay. Song of the Morning by my red-fro'ed honey Josh Ritter. I got kicked off his "street team" somewhere along the line but I'll promote his shit anyway. I have all of his albums, including his original self-titled, but I think in honor of this beautiful spring day, Danni's Song of the Morning is "Snow is Gone," from the Hello Starling album.

His new album IS OUT! The Animal Years is out and available for purchase...or gifting via iTunes...maybe to some deserving or not-so-deserving blogger.

And the devil would call MY name...

Well, it's Sunday morning, almost noon. I am heading out towards Golden, Co, to walk some trails while my friends runs them. It's really a beautiful day, and I'm feeling pretty fine this morning. Danni's Song of the Morning for today is "Loves Me Like a Rock" from one of my all-time favs, There Goes Rhymin' Simon.

W'hoops

The Nuggets, or "Nugs", got spanked, like 100 to 86. Hey, I got some inflatable "thunder sticks" out of the deal. Brought to you by Dodge. This was a big game because the Nuggets had been playing well and had beaten the LA Clippers in at least one game in the playoff series. A throw-down pre-game show featured, are you ready for this: Jimmy Ibbotson of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band fame singing the national anthem AND accompanying HIMSELF...on the banjo. *single tear*

It was fucking weird. I am telling you, Colorado fans boo EVERYTHING, even if the other team just had the ball. Some handsome guy had arranged for his girlfriend to be selected for a fake blindfolded shooting contest on the court for a novelty proposal. The mascot, Rocky the Cougar or something was hamming it up with the dude and was kind of orchestrating the whole thing, holding his jacket as well as the ring box. While she was shooting w/out seeing, her boyfriend got behind her on one knee and then they took the blindfold off and turned her around. She FREAKED OUT and tried to run off of the court (as if to say, I might venture, No, thank you) to the opposite end and get at the corner of the floor but was blocked by courtside seats and the media. The whole time she looks like her puppy has been shot in front of her and is clutching her mouth. She then has to turn and run sideways down the court, towards the seats. And she's wearing a handkerchief top and a mini skirt which is not aiding her escape. And yes, you can rest assured that when the shock and horror of watching a train wreck in front of them ended, the Colorado fans booed the poor woman as well.

People around us quickly dissected the situation, giving empathy to the man (I might add wearing black dress slacks and a sleeveless black undershirt) and condemning the woman. Someone said that etiquette would dictate that she say yes in public and tell him the truthful news later. I don't think this is the case, but I wasn't sure why and I felt badly for her. Not only was this probably the end of their relationship, she had to stand up for herself and do the painful, torturous task and run away in front of thousands upon thousands of people. I have been thinking it over and I truly believe a) he had probably done something bad and this was a make-up for it b/c b) if you don't want to be turned down in public, don't propose in public and c) everyone was going to have hurt feelings, but I hated the fact that so many people commented about how much he had paid for the set-up. You can't put a price on a woman's happiness like that. Hey, he spent 2K to get a stuffed cat to hold the engagement ring and blindfold her, she HAS to marry him now. I hope they are both okay tonight, I say, you go girl! Literally, go, go, run away from the sporty man.

Go Nuggets!

Last night we tried to get tickets to see the Avalanche in their playoff series game against the Dallas Stars but the game sold out and scalpers were not in a negotiating mood. Denver Gfriend got tickets for us to go to the Nuggets game tonight!!! I think it's odd that last night they played hockey in the same building, the Pepsi Center. I think they should just combine the two and make people play basketball on ice. Hell, I'd pay to see that.

This is my first NBA game, I am very excited! Woot woot.

Grant me Grace

Dannielle's Song of the Morning: "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley, from his irrerasable album Grace. A sweet, soft and spiritual kick-off to the WEEK OF THE DANNI! check it.

Song of the Morning

Inspired by my late-night dump note, Danni's Song of the Morning is "Running Out of Fools" by the lovely Neko Case. Imagine me wandering around in manner of NYPD blue, dark lighting, me wearing angular make-up and just-so tousled hair of the romantically oppressed. It's not meant for this Tinkerbell, but my feelings in general. Enjoy. :)

Ack! Ouchie!

Just received late-night but honest dumping from the one-date wonder. He called me "frighteningly observant, inquisitive and honest" or something. Who fucking uses the word frighteningly? Is that REALLY necessary? I knew this is what would happen, and I actually told him he would hit it off with this other person. I think my weak power of clairvoyance bothered both of us but you could really pad a note a little. I appreciate honesty from guys, but there's a line. I still have some feelings for the love of Pete. And true, he could have not sent a note, but I knew anyway. In addition to my day of tears and job rejections I now have a wounded ego and bruised heart. He also said, "I really don't want to romantically see you at all." Like I'm going to not take no for an answer and come after him. It must be b/c I'm "frightening." He then offered some watered down friends supplement, like I want to hang out with that. Bitch, please. I hate that, when I know how things are going to go. It makes me wonder if I'm in control of changing my outcomes or if I'm just blindly following someone else's plan.

Fuck, I shouldn't be dating at all. Good reminder. Anything else now? Maybe I can go to a movie and have my pants unexpectedly fall down in front of 100 people. Oh, I know - how about I'll just set up a stand and people can walk by and remind me, you know, on their way to lunch, etc, why I'm undatable/unemployable. That would save me lots of time.

quelques morceaux

<--- first pic of me on the blog! Workin' it in a clothing shop

Mon ami Anthony (pronounced Aunt Tony) has a new show up. I'm addicted to it. Last week he had more than one hundred comments on his blog...maybe this week we'll have, um, one... hazah!

Check out Borderline's new show, coming out tomorrow. Edited by Lynn, it's a more field-tripping version of our lovely little podcast. A joint effort by our longtime editor, Mr. Neil and our artist in residence Lynn, you'll be sure to cream your jeans at it's fantabulousness.

As always, AirFerg doesn't disappoint, though they do continue to use clips of Borderline without permission. If you can find it, I'll buy you a pony.* Their last show was freakin' funny, but I am all ready to battle the boob issues they discuss. If anyone can provide some insight, it's me...or Dolly Parton.

I was errand-kidnapped on Tuesday with the promise of a bagel. (why do I always fall for food!!?!?) Roommate went to get his hair cut at a tricked out hipster salon (I was in my granny jeans and dirty shirt, so thanks for that) and it's was the lllllllllllonnnnnnnngest hour and fifteen minutes of my life. However, the did have an Etch-a-Sketch (so hipster) on which I made some fabulous stairs and vintage 80's handheld vid games. BUT the best part was that his stylist brought in her bulldog puppy named Fiona. So freakin' cute!

Whenever I spellcheck my blog entries, it prompts me to replace freakin' with foreskin.

BTW, I do get lots of nice feedback and have especially this week. I appreciate the comments and those of you who read the blog, even my insanely long and serious entries. :)

*I will never, ever buy you a pony. That room is a disaster.

New feature: Song of the _______

The very first Danni's Song of the Morning is "32 Flavors," live version (4:42) by Ani Difranco. I think this is something that I will periodically post, songs that reflect my mood or what's going on with me. I love music, it's such a big part of my day to day and maybe together we'll find some new favs. Feel free to pass along suggestions. Enjoy!

Thanks to Mandycane for first turning me onto this song.

Blubbering mootard

Okay, I am having a rather difficult week and am frustrated. Over the last week I have really been trying to put myself in some new situations, meet new people and be aggressive with getting out of this damn house. The trick about forcing yourself into new situations is that it's necessary to prevent personality atrophy and yet carries a great risk of vulnerability or the possibility of wounded feelings, this is why sometimes you have to force yourself to do it in the first place.

Friday night I attended, with my newfound Denver gfriend, a "singles mixer" a Fado's, a yuppie but well-designed "Irish pub" near Coors field, complete with textured walls, cool dingy lighting and two old guys who played Goo Goo Dolls and Tom Petty covers. I think going with a friend I wasn't very nervous, but I'm pretty gregarious so I'm not usually skittish to begin with. There were four women and four "men." One of these guys was "the guy" we all know - a 17-year-old alcoholic in the body of an overweight twenty-something "man" with spikey hair and some kind of computer phone complete with keypad, laser beams and a direct dial to Grey Goose and whose every other word was fuck. Really charming. One fellow, Wesley (does not even the name give you some set-up), acted like he had been watching those government social skills films from the 50's and imitating them. [Robotic voice] "Why hello! My name is Wesley," [shakes hand twice] "and what might your name be? That's a wonderful name. Welcome to the table. And what is it that you do?" [looks interested, perfect posture] He was the kind of pseudo-intellectual who couldn't actually be a critical thinker or carry on a conversation, just rattle off statistics and his CV. The third fellow was a crazy-haired, poorly toothed art teacher from "the Springs." So this guy had drive like two hours to get to this bar and "had no vices." He was a Christian Scientist and a BFA who didn't drink. He kept gleefully and proudly pointing to his soda when he declared this(I briefly entertained a fantasy of seducing him into some shots and then watching him do a beer bong in one of his "awesome welding sculptures") and dissed my only actually interested question to him about First Fridays art walks. "Well, I mean whatever. Just come downtown and follow the crowds of yuppie people wandering around." The fourth guy, a very sweet but dull guy had teeth too big for his mouth, like on the sides. This gave him a kind of false accent and sort of an Eeek the Cat voice at the same time. He worked making "road tape" and had been through the police academy but was proudly declaring the easiest professors who "didn't make them do anything." I was kind of glad that he hadn't followed his pursuit of becoming a cop because I got this impression that not having to "do anything" was a goal in life. I had a great time with the organizer my Denver gfriend but we had to pull a, "Danni's not feeling well" escape down the main stairs, shortly BUSTED by the art maniac but then into open air. We had a lot of fun, and while I didn't get the networking I wanted, a cool gfriend is much more appealing than some lame guys.

Saturday I decided to meet for a quick lunch someone I had been chatting with via email. It sounded as though we had a lot in common, I had responded to his posting b/c it sounded like he had really excellent and similar taste in music but a clever headline. To meet for a sandwich, on the way to my dirty stadium job, was kind of last minute and I rode my bike so I went with wet hair and my Target associate style uniform on. I must have looked like a crazy person, trying to navigate Colfax with flying hair and an oddly tight shirt, my GINORMOUS backpack and bike. I had imagine that this sandwich would be just a sandwich and I could tick him off as just another Denvertard, those twenty-something boarder/biker/runner/smoker guys who have sadly stunted maturities. We said our awkward hellos and gave a handshake then ducked inside the dark, cool b&g for lunch. Having been partying for two days straight, his choice for beer gave me the freedom for a Bloody Mary (ah, see ya hangover!). And we sat, and chatted, and the weirdest fucking thing happened. He was interesting. He was intelligent. He was handsome, ethically aware and funny. I admit that right now my self-image isn't that great and I almost find comfort in the fact of dating losers b/c then I'm still kind of in control and kind of in a power seat. I know that sounds unhealthy and it probably is. So here I am with someone who I can already tell is a great person and I get nervous. We keep talking, and I ditch work, and we end up spending the entire day together. It was that bizarre phenomenon when you meet someone and you can't believe you another piece of the puzzle. That's how I felt when Lynn and I started hanging out in high school and became fast friends. And then we kept drinking and it kind of became weird and intense, I spent Sunday in agony of the person who (I am frequently this person) drinks too much and fucks up something cool. Now I find myself checking email, and my phone - did he call? Did he leave a message? What does this message mean, is this a turn into the just friends lane? I must remind myself I am not, in fact, 13.

I realize that what is difficult right now is that dating is like applying for jobs. You must pass tests, in one respect or another, pass judgments and wait for someone to decide who is the best candidate. Am I too chubby, did I smile enough or talk too much, did I fidget with my necklace, did I present my best self? And right now, the worst part is that I am not thinking about anything but finding a way to take him a lunch over his noon break or go for a walk in the park; we only went out once. I feel like some crazy Mary frickin poppins hybrid and if history tells me anything it's that this is the time for self-defense mode. I got a call this morning about some dumb waitressing gig, and they wanted someone with experience; I had presented them a polished resume and everything. I get turned down even for a waitressing gig. And I know it shouldn't bother me, but I am feeling rather alone and unwanted, despite my social progress. I don't know if I'll be able to stay here much longer without a job!

Shaken or stirred

Getting ready to go to scary twenty-somethings mixer. Hopefully this complicated bra contraption holds up, I think somehow I'm defying physics for the moment.

Breathe in...and in...and in...

and out. It's a club to which I don't belong right now, so do it up right for me!

Happy 4/20 people!

I feel dirty

Yesterday I decided to suck it up and answer a random ad to "jump start my career in sports marketing" and help sign-up people for credit cards at a major sports event. It was a very strange experience, and the only cool person there I apparently pissed off and offended.

I rode my bike the approximately 3 miles, navigating the cool but sunny day in downtown to the stadium. It was a very awkward feeling waiting outside the instructed gate, waiting for our as-of-yet-unseen organizers. A tall, pretty thin girl also waited and a stocky, late-twenties guy with overly spiked hair and huge eyes was also waiting in a dress shirt and khakis. We looked like misplaced GAP employees. "Please sir, we had to leave GAPtopia, please give us job, we sell other poor people credit cards for you." Emerging from behind the gate came one of the two promoters with kiosk passes for us. He didn't look more than 19-years-old and had unattractive, shaggy hair, a dirty shirt and untied skater tennies. His hair was overgrown in the front and combined with sort of funky but not quite glasses and oily skin added to his teenage looks. He was one of those guys who is "super excited!" and claims the job is "super easy!" if you get used to "people ignoring you!". We were cornered by his enthusiasm in a small supply room while we were handed jackets and shirt with the insignia of the team. Unfortunately, all he had were "larges!" and so the polo I was assigned hung to my knees. Try to tuck that into a pair of fitted trousers, I looked like Pat from SNL, all lumpy and with an indiscriminate gender. The jacket pullover was even bigger. I looked like a rogue umpire ready to throw someone out at the plate in my big, puffy navy blue wind jacket.

The kiosk was in a freezing wind tunnel of death. There was one Cool Girl there, who had lived all over and owned her own business. At first, she reminded me of my friend Shelly. I forget that in new situations, my tongue is totally tied. Give me a few hours and I'll loosen up and take over, but to begin with I can be very shy. Not only in this situation was I already tongue-tied and quiet, but I was being asked to yell at people like a fucking carnie. So when the first thing I said was, "Are you seriously asking me that?" when asked if I was the 'Danielle from the modeling agency,' she thought I was actually offended. Okay, um, sarcasm = 0, cool girl = 1. Then, only a few minutes into it, I was observing and really struggling to yell out things. I was so uncomfortable and had had 4 minutes of training. I'm a marketing pro, this isn't the way I would work a booth. It was crude and I didn't find particularly effective. So Cool Girl says, "If you aren't going to yell, stand behind the booth. It's the easier job." This did nothing to help my demeanor. I later made a comment that I had been "put" behind the booth by this girl she was obviously angry and I think she left. Great, I was trying to kid but she was kind of a bitch about it. Team "Security" came to us at one point to check out passes b/c someone in the group had had an outdated ticket on accident. This older, red-headed man in thick glasses walks up and DEMANDS my ticket. I say, "please," to him as one prompts a child. I couldn't believe what a dick he was! He was so curt that I ripped the ticket back out of his hand. Obviously I had offended his territory of Gate D and he stood there, staring at me, like one does to pick a fight. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

So thusly I began my career in vendorship: starting two fights w/in one half hour.

I did manage to work myself a secure spot at "the better booth." There it was much, much warmer out of the wind but still not in the sunshine. I worked with another organizer who was really sweet and didn't care that I wasn't screaming at people. I was pissed that I was taking all of the shit from Exciteable Boy b/c I was getting as many people to sign up as anyone else AND definitely more than the model Danielle. I think though a lot of guys did come over just because of her and a few asked me if they could have her instead of the giveaway tee-shirt. Gross. At the better booth I could kind of see some of the game, unfortunately, the home team got SPANKED and it wasn't that great of a game. I was doing okay until an older man, who I am nearly certain was autistic, came over to the booth. He didn't even know his own address and we didn't complete his application. But I was told, that even people with mental handicaps can apply for the credit card as long as they "understood what they're applying for" and "know their contact information." It gave me the shivers.

I don't know if I'll go back, but I guess now I can say I've been there, done that. I need a real fucking job!

This week:

• Am reminded about the fuckwittage of old bachelor boys
  
• Sold credit cards at a pro-baseball game
• Got to see Coors field
• Saw two lipsticks making out, it was really sweet
• Have had zero units of alcohol since Friday night, well, okay, Sunday afternoon...Lynn :)
• Someone asked me if I were, "There from the modeling agency..."
• Have increased freckle population by approximately 1,000,000
• Made a lean roast beef wrap (holy crap do I miss red meat! It is so delicious)
• Started listening to: The Onion podcast and the BBC Radio News podcast (is v. brilliant)
• Have played ZERO games of pool! Am going through withdrawal
• Came to the realization that we aren't unpacking b/c the apartment sucks so badly, no one wants to stay
• Ate two Snickers eggs (best candy ever made by humans)
• Had a crazy-ass dream involving an airport, a wedding of a young family friend and a sobbing ex waiting in the choir nook

My day:

I am going to do some sales job thing at Coors Field. It seems a little shady, but in some ways I'm sort of intrigued, so if I don't post again tonight, you know, someone call the polis. Credit card sales booths may never have been so vibrantly manned before.

I'm BAaaaAAAAaAck

And exhausted. Most of today's efforts are being focused on sleep. Much more to come later.

Put chocolate in your coffee all day

Because MAN, does that make for a Good Friday or what?!?!

I am in Valley, Nebraska, in a terribly cold basement, tired and yes, even happy. I got in on the train yesterday at 7:15 AM, approximately eight and a half hours after departure. The train was a much, much, much nicer experience that I had hoped. The "quiet car" to which I was assigned allowed for one person to really have possession of two seats, wider and taller than a first-class airline seat. They had the ability to lean back almost all the way and offered a foot rest. I slept only about an hour on the overnight trip because it was SO COLD. I could hardly stand it, I was shaking and even my nose was cold to the touch. Just like a doggie. After 10:00 at night, overhead announcements are no longer made to allow people to sleep. The lights are dimmed and soft rocking back and forth of the train didn't make me sick as I feared, it made one sleepy. Had I had a blanket I could have slept just fine.

Denver Union Station is a HUGE, beautiful old station. The interior is much like Western Heritage Museum, for you Nebraskans. Upon arrival, conductors (in order of "grouping class") assign each passenger a train car. I listened near the conductor's booth to find someone who was also going to Omaha and was in my seating class, so I could stalk and hunt them down like a lion on a wounded gazelle. Had I been called to board by myself, I wouldn't have even been able to find the train. A spiky haired blonde man in glasses and earrings, who was carrying perhaps the largest duffel bag I had ever seen, fit the bill. He was even clever enough to wear a short overcoat that had perfect ticket-holding pockets, so he didn't have to balance his purse, backpack and duffel bag while clutching a ticket in his teeth. Note - to - self. When it was our turn to board, we wound around to a common hallway used by the light rail and snow trains. To climb up to the platform we went through a door labeled "Track 1" that was, I swear, no larger than a bedroom door. It was very odd, I felt like I should knock.

A conductor stands on the platform, and while he didn't say "All aboard!" used the "All aboard" tone of voice to yell to people to which car the need to go. I got inside the train and threw my largest bag on a pile of unsecured luggage. Coach is on the second level of a car and so I climbed a very narrow, nearly 360 degree stairwell to get to my seat. Above, in the "quiet car," was actually quite expansive. Each passenger had the room of two first-class airline seats, with twice the leg room and high seats which reclined almost completely. (While my legs wouldn't reach it) there is a foot rest for each passenger. The lubbing of the train and the dark, quiet car made me quite sleepy, but the freezing temperature made it impossible for me to rest. I had a hooded wool sweater and jeans but even my nose was cold to the touch, like a doggie. I had treated myself to one cocktail to help me in this endeavor, but it wasn't enough. So, I listened to podcasts and tried to not be too excited. It was like a kid at Christmas. "Go to sleep Dannielle, and when you wake up you'll get presents and love!" Who can sleep under those conditions? Ain't me, friend.

While I didn't have a great view most of the night because of the dark, I really got excited by the time we passed by UNL's Memorial Stadium and Lynn and I were already in constant communication. The scenery from Lincoln to Omaha was spectacular. As is common in the low-lying easter terrain, it was foggy and produced a soft but fiery red and orange sunrise. I appreciated the treeless plains in a different way than I had before, softer and less intimidating than towering pines and rocks. So the first train trip was good, but next time I need to bundle up like I'm going on an arctic trek and take lots of pillows.

Chugga, chugga

woot woot! I am preparing for my imminent depature for the weekend! I got a call this morning from Amtrak telling me my train was already delayed by two hours. Not a good start to the trip. I guess it's better for Lynn though, a pick-up at 7:14 instead of 5:14. I am getting excited, but I also am wishing that I didn't have so much other crap to do, I'd rather be on my way right now.

One bourbon, one whiskey, no beers

Last nite was super fun. But, I had waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much bourbon. I made a great new friend and honed my pool skillz. Now I feel like burning and I am trying to get ready for my interview. Yeah!

My first outing

Tonight I am going to play pool with a gal from Denver. I am very excited b/c a: I'm leaving the house and it's not just to go to the park or the grocery store and b: we're going to play pool. My pool skillz is rusty yo and I'm never going to be able to shark anyone that way. Sheeet. Updates to come.

I have been soaking up as much sun as I can stand b/c I want to be all goldeny when I get home. Yes, I am wearing my Copertone 45, but I still can brown even with that. It's windy outside and even though I have an interview tomorrow to prepare for, I am content right now to take a nap. :)

CONTACT

Guess who just emailed me?!?! That's right! Kirk! He's in "one piece" and it going to give me his address info so I can write to him. I guess it must not have been too terrible to hear from me. Yeah!

I heart my UK friends!

Thanks for cheering up a crabby lady. :)

poop

De-nied. Didn't get the big job, but she kindly offered me some career advice. Hey, lady, you said no. Let - it - go at that. :(

Give me some worms!

I am having a pity party day. I don't know what I am expecting will happen, I mean, I've been in the house for two days. It's not like I can expect life to come to me. But I feel very bad about myself and I can't stop crying. It's ridiculous and frustrating! I am a grown woman. But man, am I lonely right now. I'm not longing for home or another life, I just can't shake that basic, raw feeling of grief, of shame, loneliness.

My new living situation does not seem like it will be particularly successful. There will always be adjustments with new roommates, but it doesn't seem like it should be so difficult when you're in your mid-twenties. I'm having a hard time expressing that, while you may not be that interested in taking out the trash, I have to live with the smell everyday, all day in this fucking tiny ass apartment. And in return, I am apparently mean about the use of my computer equipment and am a bitchy nag. Maybe I am being a nag, I need order somewhere in my life. Right now, I have none. My roommate is the only person I know here, so on the outs with him leaves me totally alone and that's such an adjustment for me. In searching for me what was really the issue, I realized that it's about dignity and respect, and right now I'm getting none from my roommate or myself. I know it will get better and it could be much worse, but I am ready for a new week, a new day. Hmmmm, maybe a nap, maybe some Strongbad.

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I'll guess I'll go eat worms.

Love is a battlefield

I was thinking last night of someone I dated not too long after I lost my job in the fall. His name was Kirk and he was the oldest person I had ever dated. Taller than me but not too tall, he had blondish hair and a coy smile, a medium build that was strong but not gym-rat ripped. We didn't get much time together before he was deployed for training in Georgia and then back to the middle-east. Before we met, he had volunteered to go back to Iraq for a second tour of duty having first been stationed in Bosnia. He reasoned that as an officer and a full-time member of the Nebraska National Guard, he would return and be able to pay off his house, retire very early and would help those still in the country. It was something I couldn't comprehend, volunteering to go to Iraq, of all places. He had served his country and clearly it had taken a toll on him. For someone in his early-30's he had pain creases deep in his face. I don't mean natural wrinkles, they were in places that only come from constant frowns and straining, a truly weathered look...weathered by life and the elements.

I think, in retrospect, while the relationship was short-lived we found each other at very important times. Having just lost my job, and someone I cared about but just couldn't have, I needed some comfort and loving. I think I gave him some compassion and support that he needed while preparing to leave. It wasn't that he talked much about leaving, in fact, he couldn't talk about it. This guy had so many emotional scars they left him bound and gagged and, if I'm going to be honest, sometimes a little dangerous. The support was more about a connection to another human being, another soul that he could take with him when he left. At first I was angry about the way in which he left things, which was by disappearing and not calling, but I realize that he couldn't say goodbye. After everything he had seen I think it was too hard for him to leave on a sad note, he had to pick up his gear and just go. In some strange way it was also a comfort, I think if he hadn't been attached or we hadn't made that important connection, it wouldn't have been difficult to say goodbye.

I sent him an email this morning, not knowing if he will ever receive it or not, but sending one none-the-less. Honestly, I have no idea what the protocol is for wartime correspondence. Hey, how's it going, hope you're not dead, haven't talked to you in eight months, I have no right but I am thinking of you anyway. Oh, by the way, I moved away from Nebraska so if, like me, you had ever harbored a fantasy reunion in your mind, it's doubtful. I felt foolish trying to write it but I felt compelled to do so. I supposed it's never terrible to get a note from someone who says they're thinking of you. I don't know if the fact that it's someone to whom you've made love makes a difference or not, someone you had to let go before going back to war. Will that hurt him more than it will help? I want to GOOGLE his name but afraid to find an obituary pulled up in the search.

Dating Kirk gave me a face and an appreciation, if not a true understanding, of the toll that war or military "conflict" takes on human beings. It reminds me of a short-lived but sweet and intense connection I made and that, despite my recent self-focused nature, it's something I could probably summon up again. If even a connection is only made somewhere in the ether, I hope he feels it right now.

Come on, ride it! *woot woot*

<-- I am going to see these people and more!!

I've booked my first train tickets, I'll be swingin' home for Easter weekend! I have never ridden a train before so I've been on the phone with Amtrak approximately 18 times so far today asking really ridiculous, grandma-like questions. We tease our parents for being technologically archaic, but I might as well have asked the gal today trains ran on their own power or we had to give it a gettin' ready push b/c I have no idea how the trains work.

Things I've learned about riding trains:
1) You are able to use cell phones as service is available
2) There is a dining car AND a "lounge" car (show me the bar, peeps)
3) You can take your bike but it requires the purchase of a "bike box" and a service fee
4) It will take me as much time to ride the train as it would to drive BUT I can fall asleep on the train and probably not kill anyone
5) Only one train goes in and out of each station each direction (NE or SE) each day, so I will be arriving in Omaha at approx 1000 o'clock in the morning (how much does Lynn love me? hmmm...)
6) It's pretty danged cheap

Plug me in, baby!

8:00 AM Mountain, Danni gets the internet! Holy mother of pearl! Two and a half months without it have seemed like an eternity. I also got basic cable and am now watching a riveting episode of Magnum PI, just because I can.

My first rejection letter! Hazah!

This is how it SHOULD be done people! Thank you, Media Strategies, for rejecting me properly, on letterhead. You get a cookie.

Everything you love is made of petroleum

The first interview on Friday went well, I have one under my belt! In interviews, it is always my goal to start confidently and, I don't know, something happens. I kind of leave my body and enter this Zen-like state where I'm a poised statue. This is "the zone." It's an exhilarating feeling. First, I build up "the danni" as it were and try to get to the point in the conversation where you turn it (high-fives) and the interviewer sells YOU the job or starts using verbiage like, "your job, you will be doing this, etc." If someone really wants you to go to work for them, this is the point when you can get the potential employer to tip their hand. I a-l-m-o-s-t thought I had the lady.

Lady: "Your job will be to..."
Me: Do it, say it, say it! Come on baby, I know you want to say it for Dannielle!
Lady: "Or, your potential job would be to analyze that incoming data..."
Me: Poop!

I had some great questions prepared and that gave us more face-time to discuss. She did actually say in the interview, "I have eight people I am interviewing," (okay, lot's of competition and it's only the first interview) "and they all have their positives and negatives." (in context, this meant my lack of direct to consumer product marketing and years of experience) "There is someone applying who has twenty-years experience with Major Beer Company." (dude, how do I get HIS fucking job) "But, I don't really want to train and hand-hold someone who is older than me, with more experience!" (probably shouldn't mention age discrimination to me IN the interview but whatever)

Mixed - signals. I knew I was underqualified when I applied, and I knew this would come up in the interview and I was prepared for it, but really, you have to bring up someone like THAT! Good reminder that I am playing ball outta my league. The end of the interview became very conversational and that is a good thing, it's just difficult and critical to know exactly when to cut that cord. It was the only time in life that my knowledge of Arbonne skin-care products has or probably ever will come in handy. I figured a woman into homeopathic medicine would like it...and she did AND it's also a Swiss product. Score one for the danni...maybe I SHOULD be in sales. Lynn and I once attended an Arbonne skin-care products party at the home of a friend. We learned that everything we use in the US is made from some form of crude petroleum and refined by burning it at thousands of degrees, that we will probably all die of cancer, and they sell a product we dubbed, "colon blow."

I am waiting to hear if I will have a second interview with the CEO. I think I have some career ($) potential here. Brand management would be huge for me and help me take another step towards California.