Glorious Taco

Someday, we'll all have a good laugh about this….

Gentlemen July 30, 2011

Filed under: dating,Uncategorized — equinette19 @ 3:57 am

OK boys and girls, let’s play how not to get someone to like you on OkCupid!

1. Don’t be a square.  Make sure you make a lot of spelling mistakes, and don’t use punctuation. Why it works: It communicates that you aren’t trying to impress them even the tiniest bit.

2. Keep it short. Once again, we’re not trying to impress anybody (that’s so uncool). Keep it under two sentences.   Why it works: If your message takes longer than twenty seconds to type, they may think you’re actually interested.

3. Talk dirty to ’em.  You want to be very clear that all you want is sex.  Try telling them how you imagine their butt feels through clean linen.  Why it works: It discourages them that the only thing you like about them is how their meat’s shaped.

Now for the disclaimer:  I’m not saying that you can never make a mistake, or send a cute little short message, or tell someone how hot you think they are.  I certainly do.  I just want all you smart, sexy lads to know that us smart, sexy ladies really like it when you show us how smart you are.

Also, if you really want to impress me in particular, talk to me about marine life. Just sayin’.

 

 

 

 

My brain is full of AMAYZAAAAAHHHH June 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — equinette19 @ 4:12 pm

Is somebody putting LSD in my marshmallow coco puffs?  Because the freaking circus in my head last night was insane.   I watched the new X-men movie before I had this dream, and you can tell.

I know that nobody gives a flip about my dreams, but it was so freaking cool I can’t help myself.  Here it is, with no embellishment.

First, I was a half-human mutant living in prehistoric cave.  I also had a mutant boyfriend and we were supposed to be keeping the race alive or something, so you can guess where that went.  Oh, and the mutant boyfriend was the guy I dated in high school.

Then I was a regular person in the present, trying to get a pregnancy test to work, which made absolutely no sense as, apparently, I hadn’t had sex since before Jesus was born.

Dream logic. Right.  Wait, no, I just remembered-I thought that some guy I’d never even met was the father, even though in the dream I was conscious of that fact.  What?!

Next segment:  I was with two men, and we were trying to save eggs that had fallen into the sea and become lodged on rocks and I was putting them under my clothes to keep them warm.  One of my companions pointed to an egg half-frozen in a crack on the large rock we were clinging to.

“It’s dead,” I said. ” Look, it’s frozen already.  I probably can’t even get it out.”

“Just give it a chance, come on.”

I dug at the ice surrounding the egg-it was only a fragile, flaky film after all-and put the frigid thing under my shirt.  A swell came in and lifted me up gently-the eggs floated around in my shirt and pants- but my hands were locked onto the rock and I fell asleep despite the cold and wet.

I woke up and felt for the eggs, but they were gone.  My companions and I dove into the water and searched the sandy bottom. Though cold, the turquoise water was very clear.  One man pointed to something white and I picked it up: an eggshell, still held together by membrane.  I felt something poke my leg; there was something sharp stuck in my pants, and I shook it out.  It was one of the empty eggshells.

We swam to shore and ran up the beach, looking for the hatchlings.  I nearly ran over a delicate grass basket, and as I stared at it, one of the men explained that it was something the animals made to protect themselves as they hatched.

“That makes no sense, I thought they’d already hatched.” I said.   The men shrugged and grinned.  We continued sprinting up the sandy path through the eucalyptus and palm trees.  I came upon another little basket, this one made with thinner weave and taller than the last.  I picked it up, and, breaking my fingers through the sides as I gripped it, put it over my head.  We laughed as we ran.

We came to a wooded area with a vast meadow of tall golden grass.  A warm breeze tugged at the basket I held above me, and I jumped; it caught the wind like a parachute and slung me in a graceful arc over the rippling grass.

As it set me down, I noticed a line of animals; not babies, but full-grown.  They had been the inhabitants of the eggs.  They were waiting for me so they could say goodbye.

I ran to a buck and took his head in my hands, pressing my forehead against his and crying bitterly.  I did this to a little dog, too, telling him secretly that I loved him best. Perhaps he had been in the egg frozen in the crevice.

As I turned in front of my children, I fell to all fours and became half-animal, though we all screamed with human voices as we charged across the meadow.  I can’t remember if we were going to war or simply running to our new lives; I think it may have been a little of both.

Later, I was part of a criminal organization headquartered in a mansion, though I was also going to a girls’ school where many of the students were also part of the clan. I had become jaded and bitter due to the loss of my mutant boyfriend from the beginning of the dream, as well as those animal children that had hatched from eggs.

Re-reading that, I’m questioning the wisdom of posting this.

Anyways, I was following a thin black man down the grand staircase, my steps slow and deliberate. I cornered him at the bottom and stood close to him.  A stole of tiny purple jewels lay draped around my neck, and I tossed one end around his so that I could pull him towards me.  He turned his head away from me, unwilling.

“Always looking for diamonds, and you continue to ignore me.” I said laying my head to one side so that my neck was exposed.  Was he a vampire?  I don’t know.

I followed him up another set of stairs, smiling as he gave me dubious looks but tolerated my company.  Jewelry lay in black velvet display cases set in the marble, but most of it was protected by class. We came to one case that was open, and I lifted out a pair of topaz earrings. I put one in my mouth and broke it between my teeth, but the black man was looking for a different, tastier gem.

We came to a landing where several people were drinking and joking.  The stairs we had climbed wrapped around the atrium of the mansion; you could see people in the gallery below.

I turned to my companion and suggested that we take some of the Lady’s jewels.  She was in the shower; I could hear the water running.  Then, for some reason, I changed my mind, leaned over the banister and addressed the man playing the white grand piano on the floor below.  He was the leader of the clan, and the Lady’s boyfriend.

He was also Vinn Diesel.

“Hey! Vinn!”  I shouted.  “I’m going to eat some of Emma’s jewelry.  I don’t want her to be scared. Thought I’d tell you.”

Vinn Diesel stood up, pointing at me, “No, you have no idea what she can do! She’ll-” but he was interrupted as the marble wall next to me cracked and a giant piece of a mirror was hurled through, no doubt torn from the wall in Emma’s bathroom.

I leaped over the railing, spinning in midair and shattering the mirror with my shin. As I landed in the gallery next to Vinn Diesel, Emma’s voice could be heard, shaking the walls as she shrieked death threats to anyone foolish enough to enter her chamber.  She flung another piece of glass for good measure.  Still crouching, I caught the dagger-like shard with my toes.

“Right.  Not going in there.” I said.

There was something else where Emma and myself and some girls were sitting in an arbor, and Emma was smoking weed and making fun of the substitute teacher who looked like someone I work with.  Then the kid upstairs jumped off the top of the refrigerator and I woke up.

I’m just posting this so I don’t forget it.  I don’t care what anyone thinks, that was seriously one of the coolest dreams I’ve ever had.

 

Quentin Tarantino and squash casserole May 18, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — equinette19 @ 2:09 am
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I work with several older women who have been cooking for the better part of a century, and occasionally they bring things in to share.  To say that I partake enthusiastically would be an understatement, but I feel left out when the old girls sit back and swap recipes and stories. My repertoire consists of “I LIEK FORZEN PIZZAS”, so my contributions are few and very often have nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with how sexy Jeremy Wade is (whoever has the remote to the breakroom always leaves it on Animal Planet. I don’t complain.)

Yesterday, Martha brought in something called zucchini cake, and at first I didn’t believe that there were squash in it.  This alien confection was one one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth; round, with toasted pecans and some sort of glaze on top, and only one or two tiny specks of green to betray the vegetable hidden within.

I thought of my aunt’s squash casserole, which was my favorite dish at thanksgiving and christmas (next to turkey-gravy pancakes the next morning OH MY GOD) and which I never have anymore.  There was an epic Shakespearean feud several years ago over the matriarch’s house, and the aunts and uncles are still pretty Montague and Capulet about it.  No more squash casserole, no more giant family get-togethers.

😦

Wait just a damn minute.  I have an oven. I can read.  I’ll make my own.

I looked up a Paula Deen recipe and off to WalMart I went, during which time my brother and I played “Boy or Girl?”, lost, and forgot the paper towels.  Oh well.

I had trouble finding some music to listen to while I cooked.  REM made me feel like I was  on a roadtrip, Beatles were too tame, and Fever Ray made me think of that one time I watched a pirated video of my brain being repeatedly defecated upon.

The mood’s gotta be right.  If you’ve every been on the interstate listening to the radio, looked down and realized you were going 105 in a sixty, then I have three words for you:

Kill. Bill. Soundtrack.

I don’t care who you are, or what mundane, everyday task you are doing, if you put on the soundtrack to Kill Bill, you will fold all your laundry in thirty seconds and then axe kick it into the closet.   I wasn’t  pounding Ritz crackers in a bag with my fist, I was one-inch-punching my way out of a buried coffin.

The crackers were the dirt.

The casserole is pretty good, if a little oily (thanks, Paula!), but I would say it’s a success, mostly because I felt like a freaking ninja while I was doing it.

 

Ocean Invertebrates: My Love For Them September 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — equinette19 @ 4:12 am
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I have been watching David Attenborough all day, and feel the need to rhapsodize about freaky marine invertebrates.

The blue sea dragon, glaucus atlanticus

You will be assimilated. No, really.

I have been inspired by the delightful marine-nerd blog that is Star-Gazy Pie.  One of their links was to this news story maligning one of the most beautiful nudibranchs I have ever seen.

You can keep your whales  and your seals and most other vertebrates(unless they’re on this show); give me something slimy or armored and slightly translucent.  Preferably all three.  I’m sorry, but these animals do things that are a thousand times cooler than anything a mammal can do.

For example: my dear Star-Gazy just taught me that argonaut males can detach their penis-tentacle, called a hectocotylus (WHAT?) and it will swim on without them and mate with a female on its own.  Oh, and also, the hectocotylus was once thought to be some sort of worm.  Excuse me?  Marine biologists were trolled by an octopus’s detachable penis?  Hell yeah, argonauts!

My future wife

However, I will make an exception to my vertebrate rule for Joy Reidenberg,the comparative anatomist from the show I linked above.  I have never seen someone thigh-deep in whale guts looking so happy.  For that matter, I’ve never seen someone thigh deep in whale guts, but it seems like there’s nothing that adorable woman likes better.  Be still my heart.