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December 31, 2003

In the proud tradition of

In the proud tradition of bloggers everywhere, I will share with you some of my personal resolutions for 2004 :
  1. Sew more. Now that I have my own machine, I just need to set aside the time for myself to work on my projects.

  2. Send birthday cards and gifts on time. No more belated well-wishes!

  3. Eat more vegetables

  4. Wake up earlier in the morning and set aside time to stretch and actually wake up, before running off to work

  5. Lobby for a promotion at work - and a raise!

  6. Find an exercise program and stick with it

  7. Learn some French!
  8. Get the nerve to finally get the CT scan that I need to have done and find out once and for all what exactly is causing my migraines
  9. Keep up with housework before the dust bunnies take over*

  10. Start actively looking for a house to buy...and then buy it!

  11. Get pregnant**

*I plan to take some help from Molly Maids on this one. I am having them come in soon and give the whole apartment a top-to-bottom scrub and then just manage the 'upkeep' myself. I am so uninspired to take a toothbrush to the floorboards, but it probably should be done...

**I know this is pretty blunt, but let's face it - my insides are already a mess and I'm not getting any younger. Plus, the making babies part is fun for everyone, so why not? ;-)


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Forgive me, Bloggers, for I

Forgive me, Bloggers, for I have sinned.

Last night I indulged in a full hour of the 8th Deadly Sin : Reality TV

I wasted 60 minutes of my life on Paris Hilton & Nicole Ritchey. I really wish that I could say that I was tricked into watching it, lured by the devil with promises of gold and diamonds. I'm afraid that curosity and sloth took hold of my mortal body and I was unable to look away. Please forgive me! Oh, Lords of Blogsylvania, I agree with the rest of the world - these girls are a waste of space. Completely pathetic human beings, unworthy of my time....and yet... and yet...[sigh]... I could not help but laugh a little when they changed the sign to read : 1/2 price anal/salty weiner bugers. I laughed at the content, as well as the fact that girls worth more than $350million don't know how to spell 'booger'. But it was wrong. I know that.

What shall be my punishment?


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December 29, 2003

When I was 7 or

When I was 7 or 8, I asked my mother if Santa Claus was real. Kids at school were talking... and since we didn't even have a fireplace, it seemed reasonable that it could have been someone other than St. Nick.

My mother told me about Santa Claus and about how he wasn't a real man, but an embodiment of all the things wonderful and magical in making children happy. She told me how parents snuck around on Christmas Eve, setting out presents and filling stockings, because they had the Magic of Santa in them, and it made them feel so wonderful. She told me that as long as there are small children in the world who could be delighted by surprise and mystery, then there would always be Santa Claus. It was something to keep to yourself, a secret in your heart, to carry with you...to make future generations of children happy. She told me to smile when I was photographed with the Santa at the mall, because he was sharing the Magic, too... she told me never to tell a child that Santa wasn't "real" because indeed he was... and I was living proof. She taught me about how the warm feeling of gratitude was a bigger gift than anything stuffed into slick paper or a shirt box... which is why parents received small gifts at the holidays, while their children woke to a Toyland. She taught me appreciation and wonder... she taught me magic and joy and love in places unexpected...

The Tooth Fairy, however, is real. Brush and floss daily.


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December 28, 2003

Ok, so I am about

Ok, so I am about to beat this computer with a ball peen hammer... I drafted this huge post full of... well, drivel, really... but regardless - I wrote this whole thing and now it's gone. Gone!! So instead of re-typing, I pose these questions to you* :

My answers are in navy blue.

What was your first 8 track? I came in at the end of the 8 track generation, so I've never owned one...
What was your first record? Rocky Horror Picture Show Soundtrack
What was your first cassette tape? Beastie Boys "License To Ill"
What was your first CD? Guns n Roses "Use Your Illusion 2"
What was the first song that you downloaded from the internet? Operation Ivy "Bombshell"

*apologies to Brent for stealing borrowing his post


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December 25, 2003

Merry Christmas from The Winns

Merry Christmas from The Winns
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December 24, 2003

May the softness of new

May the softness of new pajamas warm your body May the smell of new lotions warm your senses May the crinkle of giftwrap, strewn to and fro, warm your sentiment May the writing of thank you cards warm your gratitude May the love of friends warm your heart May the booze in the 'nog warm your belly May the afternoon nap warm your spirit May everything about you be rosy-cheeked and content. I wish you all abundant happiness, dear friends.
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I know that I am

I know that I am way late to this party, but I signed up for Friendster today... add me to your list. NOW!

thank you, that is all.

Mia


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December 23, 2003

There is something surreal about

There is something surreal about listening to Dark Side of the Moon while at work. Recalling how many times you've watched the Wizard of Oz while stoned out of your mind... days without a single lucid thought...all the while the powerful solo of the 'Great Gig in the Sky' is rolling through your head... it makes your brain fuzzy just to remember it.

...and now here you are pounding away on Excel spreadsheets listening to it... it just doesn't quite fit.

"Money...so they say
Is the root of all evil
Today
But if you ask for a raise
It's no surprise
That they're giving none
Away"


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December 22, 2003

I am my wit's end

I am my wit's end with my next door neighbors. If things do not clearly improve over the next 3 hours before I get home, I just might strangle someone. Look for me on Cops.

At first it was Louie, the Loud Mouth Chihuahua. Then the daughter joined cheer squad... this meant at least 100,000 teeny bopper girls running up and down the stairs all afternoon and into the early evening, when their respective Step Mothers would arrive in new convertible BMWs, the latest Pink single blaring, and honk incessantly until they came downstairs, kissed each and every one of their remaining 99,999 friends, and screeched out of the parking lot. Ah, those summer nights.

After that, the Mom started entertaining an endless slew of creepy looking men. The kind that make you get back in your car when you see them in the parking lot. Classy gentlemen. Then, the police woke me up at 8am (shut up! 8am is NOT sleeping in, and I'm sorry if you're a parent and think it is!!) on a Saturday to question me about my neighbors... did I know their custody arrangement? Apparently, the Mom took the kids and ran from the father... I don't really know. I don't even know their names, except the dog. He's Looooooooeeeee.

It wasn't long after that, that the younger girl started dance classes and was shooed out of the apartment... to practice her tap moves on the front porch. That is, the porch that we two neighbors share. It was lovely. She'd be clacking to her little heart's content until they'd yell for her to move away from their kitchen window... and directly in front of mine. Have you ever tried to cook dinner while being monitored through the window by a small tap dancing girl, just 3 feet away? Unnverving.

There have been a myriad of problems with the neighbors up to this point, but this is it. I have drawn the line, and they shall not cross. One of the daughters is attracting this slew of gangsta boys who hang outside our house constantly. The Mom won't let them near the apartment, not even on the stairs, so they hang out downstairs. They alternate between yelling her name at her window and honking their bike horn. Yeah, cool... bike. horn. For hours on end... when she doesn't respond, they look for ways to amuse themselves... generally, tearing out flowers from the landscaping, ripping branches from trees... when I was in NY they took it upon themselves to beat the crap out of the wood railing up our stairs, so big chunks are missing. Friday night they sat and honked and honked and honked and while they waited they tagged the sidewalk. Today Ryan came home and they'd taken all of the phone books that were just delivered (there are about 25 apartments in our little group), tore them into small pieces and threw them all over the neghborhood. Then when he came upstairs he could hear them in the apartment next door, throwing things around and the girl pleading with them to stop.

Ryan went down to the Leasing Office to tell the Manager our concerns about these kids, and she admitted to getting quite a few complaints lately about those guys. However, the catch is (as it always is with our neighbors) is that they are living there on a 'low bond' agreement, which means that they pay less than 1/2 the rent that we do (fact, not speculation) for the apartment and the government foots the rest of the bill. Since this is a government program, they want to make sure that the people getting this assistance are getting a fair shake. They make the rules very strict about evicting these types of renters, so that a Leasing Office can't disqualify or evict tenants based on weak excuses... everything has to be founded and well-documented. Which is why they had a dog tucked away in there for ever and ever without any trouble... if I did that, I'd be out on the street by Friday. So far, we've been told that they need at least 3 formal complaints to issue them a warning and if they don't comply, then they could possibly be evicted.

I feel bad for the Mother... she seems to be trying. She's moved her family to a nice neighborhood, she's gotten them a nice apartment to live in... and yet this trouble seems to be following her. I don't mean to imply that she isn't deserving of the special arrangement to live in these apartments, but I do know that the waiting list for that apartment is 5 years long... and that there are other people out there that need an opportunity to get up and get past their current living situation. I'm sure there's a nice family in the barrio that wants to live someplace nice, and is on a waiting list 5 years long... while this family is bringing the problems of the barrio into our nice neighborhood. And, selfishly, I don't see why I should have to live next door to this. I pay a lot for the priveledge to live in a nice neighborhood, in a nice community... why should I have to be terrorized by creepy boyfriends and gangster teenagers? And why should I have to abide by rules that don't apply to people who pay half the rent and cause twice the trouble?

I'm am just sick and tired of dealing with these people, being fearful, being nice when I should be stern... starting tonight I am calling the police every time I see those kids. Yeah, I know, it's Christmas and I should be turning the other cheek, but screw those guys. I hope those damn idiots get arrested for vandalism and the Mom gets a wake up call.


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As heard from my dear

As heard from my dear sister, Shaina, last night :

[backstory : we were bored and were making origami creations from our napkins]

Shaina : that looks like an old diaper
Mia : you mean like a cloth diaper?
Shaina : yeah. Why did they have those, anyway?
Mia : cloth diapers?
Shaina : yeah
Mia : plastic diapers weren't invented yet
Shaina : really? How weird. But still...why did they use them?
Mia : because they were sick of shoveling baby poo off the floor


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December 19, 2003

I feel like I am

I feel like I am writing with my left hand. This is so completely awkward... my computer just had a major coniption fit and decided that it hates my mouse. Yes, the cool mouse. The one with the scroller wheel on it. So until my order comes in I have to deal with 'standard' mouse - yuk. I keep reaching for the wheel... nothing happens.

How did anyone handle spreadsheets before the roller wheel??


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December 18, 2003

If you (like me) collect

If you (like me) collect every dumb thing at a souveneir stand, then you probably (like me) have whole shelf in the hallway (like me) full of little plastic snowglobes from every town you visit... and even some you haven't yet. Needless to say, you probably have a whole mantle full of holiday snowglobes as well (like me) that are so cute and special...

You (like me) will love this.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry....everyone!" - Homer Simpson


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I am totally in crush

I am totally in crush with Justin. No, not Timberlake. THIS Justin. Go browse the Obscene Interiors section... and then run out to buy the book.

And if you like your food in fun shapes, you should read the Crazy Happy Lunch! section, in haiku format. This takes my love of broccoli to a whole new level.

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December 16, 2003

So we finally got to

So we finally got to decorating our tree on Friday... I think it turned out pretty nice. The TinkerBell tree topper rules the school.



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There's a reason they call

There's a reason they call me "No Fun Mia". I'm not. I'm careful and detailed. I hate to lose control. This applies to every aspect of my life. I don't like to get totally wasted drunk or stoned or whatever. I don't like being a passenger in a car. Especially in the front seat. It's one of my lovely panic disorder driven quibbles. Don'cha love me?!

But what seems to be contradictory is that I love to be scared. I love to go on rollercoasters, thrill rides, airplanes, swim with sharks, etc. Why? It's simple... and yet simply ridiculous. I'm not afraid to die. To be eaten alive? ok. To crash into a fire ball in the mountains? sure, why not. To be ejected on a loop-the-loop at 75mph? whatever. The point is that I would be dead. Not mangled. Not injured. Not 'too bad, she was such a young woman when this horrible thing happened'.

And yet, with these panic attacks forever at the ready and my fear of death quelled, each and every time I attempt one of these activities, I'm sure it will be the last time that I see the light of day. As our jet started barrelling down the runway last week, I thought for sure we hadn't been de-iced enough. The runway was icy. The tarmac was slippery. The airport is balanced dangerously on an isthmus, we would plunge into the sea. I wasn't scared. I said my peace with the world and closed my eyes. I called my husband before we boarded to remind him of how much I loved him. It was OK. Obviously, nothing happened... I am here today. And yet I was so certain.

Am I fatalistic or narcissistic? Why, out of all the planes in the world, would it be MINE that burst into flames?


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December 15, 2003

Can I get a "woo

Can I get a "woo hoo" for Ryan, who's newest comic Sid & Arly is being printed by Komikwerks. You can read the story on the Komikwerks page. Just follow the link...and then run right out and buy a copy for everyone on your Christmas list!

Can I also get a "woo hoo" for my Christmas present (yeah, I already know what it is, and no, I don't care, I am still excited).


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December 12, 2003

If anyone happens to know

If anyone happens to know anyone... I am in the market for a French Bulldog. A typical breeder charges $1,000 - $1,500 for a puppy... I am hoping that someone out there in Blogsylvania will have a friend-of-a-friend or something...

Let me know!


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December 11, 2003

Tomorrow, one of my colleagues

Tomorrow, one of my colleagues will bury her children. It's so horrific, I can't even ask my mouth to form the words to express my sorrow. What can you say? Her three babies are dead. They didn't want to leave. They aren't coming home. This wasn't foreseeable. This wasn't an accident. There is no where to place the blame.

I can't wrap my brain around the situation... I don't even know where to begin. I just ask that everyone hold a little spark of light in their hearts for these children and hope that the fates can guide this mother in the right direction once again.


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It's incredible to me still,

It's incredible to me still, after all these years, that someone can lead such a charmed life and yet feel so damaged.
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December 10, 2003

The first of the NY

The first of the NY pictures have been developed... prepare yourself!!

This is of me (left) and Jenn in Rockefeller Center taking pictures in front of the fountain like a couple of moronic tourists. Thanks to the NYC cop who took this picture.

Note : I am wearing a bra, a tank top, an undershirt, a thermal shirt, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, a snowboarding jacket, and my Jack Skellington scarf. I was so overstuffed with "winter clothes" that I felt like Randy from Christmas Story.


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December 9, 2003

Jules was the first to

Jules was the first to pose a question to the self-proclaimed AnswerLadyMia :

Q : "Why, if my mother makes me crazy, do I find myself becoming her when I least expect it?"

A : We become what we are exposed to, for better or for worse. You know that stupid slang term that your best friend says when she's with her work pals? And you shit-talk behind her back and say how totally stupid she sounds when she says it? Yeah, I caught you slipping it in last week at a party... you also walk on dainty pointed toes like your aunt that makes your hips sway just so... maybe no one notices, or maybe everyone does... but you feel it when your pony tail swings side to side when you step. You feel tall and sexy, and that pony tail brushes your shoulders just so and sends goosebumps down your shoulders. You stand broad-shouldered like your father, you curse like your brother. You wince from loud noises like your sister, you cry like your mother. You fight back the tears and let them slowly trickle from the corners of your eyes but never let anyone see you sob and shudder the way you do when you're in the bath alone at night. People come to you for help, and you open your heart. You take in their problems and sleep with their troubles at night. You wake early, exhausted, with the weight of the world pressing on your back. You stagger to your car about to stumble, and then you find an injured baby mouse. You pick it up and put it in a shoe box... you carry it to work, buy special formula at the pet store, you coo into the box and encourage him to drink and add another bottle of hot water in the box to keep him warm... you stoke him gently with your finger and secretly pray to yourself that you don't get rabies. You hover over him every hour on the hour, all through the night, whispering to the Fates that this little mousie will make it to see a nice field someday. You're distraught when it suddenly stops breathing and it's tiny chest no longer rises. You make your peace with it's tiny body and bury it in the yard. You cry uncontrollably in your bath that night... no one understands, except maybe the hot water and the tiny bubbles.

We all go back to the lowest common denominator... what's comfortable, familiar. It's easier for me to follow in my mother's footsteps than to be strong enough to forge my own path. I hear the people tell me that the little mouse won't make it, that I should just let him go in the bushes and I get angry and I yell and I fight and I spit a little when I'm talking. At the end of the day, I knew all along that they were right... I just couldn't divert from the path, the plan, that stupid piece of DNA that ties me to so many nights of worry and sadness, but also so many moments of triumph and joy and exquisite peace after a sound cry and hot bath.


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Jimbo asked who I would

Jimbo asked who I would take to Hump Island with me... the premise of the question is that you will be allowed to have sex with these peope without your significant other getting upset in any way... it's like a Get Out Of Jail Free card, only you get to hump celebrities. My picks :


Henry Rollins


Ewan McGregor


Mike Patton


Keanu Reeves


John Cusack ~ apparently, I am not alone!

Who would YOU take?


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For those of you that

For those of you that I have been conversing with for a while, you will notice that I use TinkerBell737 as a screen name for AOL... however, at work we have now started using a Corporate Version of the instant messenger, so I created a new account for my day time chat conversations : AnswerLadyMia. If you wanna chat sometime, just send me a message... I'm online most of the day. Just note that any dirty limericks that you send to me will be on file for 1,000 years (since my company now stores that data shared through IM)...not saying that you shouldn't send them... just know that they will be saved for eons to come! :)
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December 8, 2003

If you haven't already found

If you haven't already found that *perfect* gift for the holidays, try visiting Sara's Cafe Press shop. All money received will go to the "Sara Feels Guilty About Buying Herself An iPod Foundation".


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I don't want to bore

I don't want to bore you with every detail of my trip... just some of them... and to remind you all that I need mailing addresses, people! How else can I send Christmas goodies and NY trinkets?! Sigh... c'mon already!

In a NY minute :

  • 31 degrees on Thursday, 17 degrees on Friday

  • My Choppa hat kept me warm AND stylish

  • I saw a guy that might have been IA and I yelled "Are you the incompetent attorney?! I love you! Let's deep fry something! Woooooo!!" across the street and he flipped me off and a cab honked. It must have been IA for real.

  • Sock Monkeys love NY. Pictures are forthcoming.

  • I saw two celebrities at JFK airport while I was stranded there this weekend. Both were shorter than I expected. One screamed like a woman when he saw how cold it was outside and again when his driver pulled up. Guess who?

  • snow hurts your eyeballs when the wind picks up and it pelts you like tiny stones

  • I bought an I heart NY t-shirt for $2. I had to... it's required for all geeky tourists.


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December 2, 2003

Ok, friends and loved ones...

Ok, friends and loved ones... once again I am taking a brief departure from Blogsylvania to vacation. Yes, I know I can't afford it and it's horribly stupid to run off to a place like New York with $6 and a stale pack of gum, but dammit! I have to!! This may be my only chance... and if nothing else, I'll load up my pockets with goodies from First Class again so I can eat wilted salad and crackers all weekend. I'll call it an Atkins Diet and no one will think twice about it.

PLUS this trip will counter balance the last one. Last weekend : Grandma overfeeding you on naughty food. This weekend : Eating snowballs in Central Park and collecting pennies for the subway. It's totally feng shui ...or something!

I will send postcards to my Bloggy Buddies (except IA because I just realized that his real name is not IA and I don't know what it is... and if I look in the phone book for Incompetent Attorney, I'll be there all night!!!). If I don't already have your address - you'd better hurry up and send it! Or else you'll get a NYC postcard with a California postmark! :)

If I don't show up again on Monday, please send help. It probably means I am frozen to a toilet seat in Central Park somewhere. The police will know it's me because no one but a Californian would be wearing TWO down coats, a scarf, ear muffs, a beanie, 2 thermal shirts, 3 t-shirts, a sweater, a sweat shirt, 4 pairs of knee high socks, 9 pairs of long johns, jeans, 16 pairs of mittens and at least 2 pairs of shoes.

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December 1, 2003

We didn't have a go-around-the-table-and-say-what-you're-thankful-for

We didn't have a go-around-the-table-and-say-what-you're-thankful-for this year, so here it is a bit belated :

thanks to the fates who lead me where I go. thanks to my husband who tolerates me with such undying affection that he seems to have been plucked from a fairy tale. thanks to all of you who keep me laughing and writing and for sticking by me and encouraging me. thanks to the friends I have made this year. thanks to the old friends for hanging around. thanks to my family for providing me nearly endless fodder for blog therapy. thanks for the little things that mean so much. thanks so much to you all.


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Ok, so I typed out

Ok, so I typed out this whole long post this morning, basically gushing about how glad I am to be back to my Blogging Pals and when I was done, I closed the window. Save? no. Draft? no. Post? no. Publish? no. Exit stupid window and close without finishing? yes. I am an idiot.

Here is my Thanksgiving re-cap for you all :


  • I was telling someone about this over the weekend and they laughed and insisted that I show some one else... until at the end of the weekend everyone was doing the gestures and telling me to bring Choppa to turkey day next year. I officially invite anyone and everyone who wants to come to join us for every holiday celebration. I think Festivus is next.

  • Ryan and Evan are officially hand twins and are planning a roadshow where they will be lead by Maestro Choppa on the fine art of hand modelling.

  • Ryan and Evan say the word "antenna" like this : ann-tan-uh I say it should be "ann-TEN-uh"

  • Evan's defense :"what about 'Texaco' and 'Mexico'? Booyah!"

  • Evan didn't bring anti-perspirant, so he wore "B.O.dorant"

  • Molly (3 years old) says : "I can't want to like that"

  • Jenn had a 'Something About Mary' story that made me almost swerve off the freeway. Laughing hysterically and driving are not advised.


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