Wondering...

when oh when will I be old enough to stop making questionable drinking decisions?

note to self: red wine and vodka should never be mixed

My Music Debut

So I've been thinking extensively about the contents of my future music album. You can't always explain why you want someone or something because sometimes the heart just wants what it wants. What my heart currently wants is to cut an album. Despite the fact that I have put zero effort towards this goal thus far and don't really plan on putting any future energy towards it, I still maintain that it just might happen because, you know, stranger things have happened. I'm no Tom Waits or Bob Dylan or even Taylor Swift for that matter, I can't generate new music, but given my A-mazing shower singing skills I'm reasonably confident that I can profit from the genius of others and so my CD shall be nothing but cover songs.


I was thinking a "greatest hits" compilation of sorts in which "greatest hits" is synonymous with the songs that I never get sick of singing. Numero uno on my track list will be The Script's "Breakeven." This is currently my fave song to rock out to in my car - it's pretty much the only place that the cat won't run away when I try to hit the high note..."I'm falling to pieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeces." I think with the help of a vocal coach and auto tune (both of which I will clearly utilize to their greatest capacity) I can work that note out though.


Songs that I have no business trying to sing (for various reasons) but will be included anyways because of their inherent awesomeness:
- Third Eye Blind, "Motorcycle Drive by"
- Janet Jackson - Runaway. I listened to this song so many god damned times that it's only right to include it - the universe would smite me if I didn't.
- Bush, "Glycerine"


Next up, TLC "Waterfalls. " My rendition will absolutely include Left Eye's rap. I've never understood why radio stations leave the rap out, it's Will Smith like in it's cleanliness. My 12 year old self spent an obscene number of hours learning this rap and I die a little bit inside each time it is left out. I won't let my distinct lack of authentic thug-ness stop me from representin' upper middle class white girls all over the world by rockin' this out.


Then to round out the album, a series god awful songs that probably wouldn't have been recorded in the first place if the music industry had any self respect but in the name of growing up in the 90's must be included:
- 2 Live Crew - Sally (That Girl.)
- LFO, "Summer Girls"
- Sisco, "The Thong Son
- Hanson "Mmmm Bop"
- Jennifer Lopez ft. JaRule, "I'm Real."
- 702, "Where My Girls At"


I'd like to include some of my absolute favorite classics, all James Taylor, Tom Waits and Bonnie Raitt but I'm thinking that they just don't jive with the soul of my album. They'll have to wait for my follow up album in which I forgo popular culture and get down to my true music roots.

Songs and artists who will NOT find a place on my CD - anything ever sung by Edwin McCain

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Comment problems (maybe) fixed

I've heard from a few of you that the comment options here have not been working. Hopefully by reformatting the page this problem should be fixed.  Please let me know if this problem persists because I lurve getting your comments.  :)

Say it ain't so

When I was maybe 19 I found out that Robin Williams struggles with depression and alcoholism. While I just may have been the last person on the planet to know this, I was shocked.  How could my fave hairy comedian be dark and twisty?  He's Mork, Mork can't be played by someone who is dark and twisty!

It was like finding out the Bob Saget is in fact NOT Danny Tanner but instead is one of the sickest most depraved mother fuckers in comedy.

Two words: Life altering.

life...

it's so ingenious that it almost doesn't make any sense what so ever

mild bahamian guilt

I'm feeling mildly guilty at the mo' for the skin that is currently peeling off my face and all the skin that will soon be peeling off my shoulders and chest.  I may have gotten a bit of a sunburn while in the Bahamas last week and now it is time to let the peeling begin.  The real guilt is that I'm just not very sorry for this en fuego dermatitis and skin peeling.  I may seriously regret this in about 20 years but for now I stick by my guns and say that it was: totally.  worth.  it.

Ew

Dear Vagisil Advertising People,

I am not a squeamish person. I work in a hospital and over the past few years I've discovered a lot about the human body and have come to the informed conclusion that human body doesn't hold a lot that I can't handle. Granted, the concept of an episiotomy (or the alternative "tearing") does give me a little bit of the willies but that's mostly the ouch factor speaking.

That being said, your new Vagisili Satin commercial, just takes it a damn step too far. Clearly stating the purpose of your product is one thing, but might I suggest revisiting your choice of adjectives for this commercial?

I am female and I may in my lifetime require such a medicated goo and even I don't want to watch that commercial.

We need to take it down a notch please.

Sincerely,

Anna Kukulka

Junior Leage, Schmunier League. I want to be a member of Piss and Moan!

As I have chosen today to be a day of absolutely nothing and have spent the better part of both morning and afternoon lounging in one context or another, I have taken a few moments to reflect upon the past week. I feel the need to inform you all that I was not alone in my bad attitude last week, that I in fact had some company. Fabulous pregnant coworker Laura was also approaching work from the a bad attitudinal location, and while for very good reason the details shall remain un-enumerated since I have indeed learned my lessons from reading Dooce. On Friday morning before anyone else got to work we shared a cup of tea and (here's the moment of enlightenment) pissed and moaned. We didn't have bad attitudes! We were forming the new Gainesville Clinical Research branch of the Piss and Moan Club!

Ahh the relief that washed over me when I made the connection. Alone I may have a bad attitude, but with a partner(s) in crime, we qualify for full fledged membership in one of the most illusive and sought after clubs of this century!

Originally founded in 1997 by Monica "Don't Hold Back" Stynchula and Nancy "Let 'Em Have It" Kukulka, Piss and Moan has a long legacy of providing mental health benefits and sanity to the more...shall we say observant members of society. Recognizing what incredible candidates we truly are I immediately contacted Piss and Moan headquarters and requested the bylaws so that we could be certain to adhere.

Piss and Moan Bylaws

Version 2.0

1. A member can never piss and moan to much
2. A member can never repeat the same complaint too often
3. A listening member is required to reply to ongoing pissing and moaning with outrage, upset and unending understanding. The occasional "ain't it the truth, is helpful
4. Embellishment is encouraged, humor is required, laughter is a must, creative complaining is essential
5. Any attempts to be reasonable or resolve a complaint will not be tolerated.
6. Refreshments are not just legal, they are required before a meeting can begin
7. Rehashing old bitches is a must
8. Members are required to never ever forget every detail of a previous complaint insinuating that it may have been too trivial to remember.
9. No bitch is ever too trivial to remember, dredging up the past makes the present oh so much sweeter

Even without the foreknowledge of these rules I have to say that the first unofficial meeting of the Gainesville Clinical Research Branch of Piss and Moan did exceptionally well in keeping with the the spirit of Piss and Moan. The only exception being bylaw #6 which was not observed in it's original intent due to the very pregnant nature of one participant AND the need to meet while at work. There was however tea and cafeteria oatmeal, both refreshing and sustaining!

While a formal application to Piss and Moan has yet to be made, I feel quite confident that we will qualify for at least probationary membership and that my guilt surrounding The Week of Bad Attitude will be assuaged.

The Art of Sandwich Making

Much like John Montague the 4th the Earl of Sandwich I am a HUGE fan of placing my meal between two slices of bread and calling it a sandwich. Sandwiches are the epitome of genius simplicity and I could (if my ass allowed it) eat them for every meal. I could seriously go all Bubba Gump on sandwiches (egg sandwiches, peanut butter sandwiches, peanut butter and cheese sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, breakfast sandwiches, hot sandwiches, cold sandwiches...) Sandwiches are virtually fool proof in their simplistic and endlessly forgiving nature, what is not to like? In 5 minutes and with minimal effort even the most inept cook can come out with a delicious and nutritious meal slapped between two slices of bread. Overall sandwiches are hard to mess up, that is, unless you work at the "cafe" at the hospital.

I've never seen people struggle so much sandwich assemblage as the staff at the hospital cafe. In my extensive sandwich experiences I have found that after condiment the bread, it is most common to then pile cheese, meat, veggies etc on to one of the slices of bread and the put the other piece of bread on top. This is not so at said hospital cafe. Instead they pile meat and cheese on one side, condiments and veggies on the other and then upend the veggie side over the meat side. If you've made a sandwich in your time you may be seeing the problem with this system. It's not just one stoned-out-of his-mind sammich maker who does this, they ALL do this. It is painful to watch this process, not to mention time consuming.

Sandwiches should be made with care and love, not reckless abandon for it's innards.



That is all.

The Week of Bad Attitude

Things I dislike about the South:

• Confederate flags
• Overt racism
• Ball-hugging Wrangler jeans
• A rampant inability to form the past tense
• Frog-giggin'
• A less than stellar educational legacy
• Chewing tobacco

Things that I appreciate about the South:

• Sweet Tea
• Fried pickles
• The acceptable conjunction of 'you' and 'all'
• Cheese grits
• The use of 'ugly' to describes someone's behavior
• A constant attention to one's attitude.

So in honor of my geographical location I have to admit, I've had a bad attitude this past week and this bad attitude led the the ugliest of the ugly behavior seen in The Great Diet Pepsi Heist of 2010.

sometimes the Universe just wants what it wants

I have officially stopped drinking the water at the University of Florida and it's not because it tastes bad and it's not because of the leigionella bacterium scare a few months back. As gross as back-spray born legionella is it pales in comparison to what is CLEARLY in the water now, because what is in the water now is nuclear strength baby-making, birth control thwarting germs. Babies, human babies, newly made, unborn and recently born are EVERYWHERE. Babies that will become human children are growing in the bellies of a shockingly high percentage of my female friends. While I share in their excitement and delight in starting or adding to their families, I sure as poopin' don't want to join their ranks.

Don't get me wrong, there are lots of amazing things about pregnancy. I think Hale Berry put it best after the Grammies in 2007: "It was amazing - I didn't have to hold in my tummy and I actually got to eat my dinner AND some of my husbands dinner too!" Still, I don't know that any amount of food can make up for things like episitotomies and until that changes I'm not drinking that damn water!

Then I was on the elevator this afternoon with three bottles of water brought from home when the other woman on the elevator opened her giant yap and said..."when is your baby due?"

Um...EXCUSE ME?!

"When is your baby due?"

I thought for a split second about making up a date just so that the remaining three floors worth of elevator ride wouldn't be insanely uncomfortable but fuck that, I'm already uncomfortable and she needed to share in that:

"I'm NOT pregnant."

Let's pause for a moment to appreciate the really uncommonly uncomfortable silence that then descended upon the 1329 Building elevator 3. She tried to break it and I have to say that in a moment of sheer self-serving vindictiveness I let it ride. The kind thing to do would have been to respond to her desperate attempts to dig herself out of the giant hole of Anna dislike. Apparently I am not kind. So lets take a moment to appreciate the deafening silence that settled
like quick dry cement around the woman who has earned the first permanent spot on my dislike list for the remaining three floors of ride:

.....

.....

.....

Okay, so I will admit (and hold on to your nipples because this may shock you) that I do not in fact have a super flat tummy. There may be a little bit more to love about me at the moment but pregnant? really? One would think that while cataloguing all of my other physical flaws in the mirror that I would notice a stomach protrusion large enough to house a human child no matter how fetal in nature.

After getting off the elevator I did what any reasonable person would do. I joked maniacally with my co-workers, pretended that it was funny instead of awful and then came home for a gut wrenching floor cry. Once I was finished with that and a good hour and a half of cardio I came to the only conclusion that a sane and rational person could come to: purify your water and take the damn stairs.