Subliminal Message

Cinnamon roll, a coffee's best friend.

I got my morning coffee as I usually do and before I exited the Jack in the Box establishment I read that statement; "Cinnamon roll, a coffee's best friend," and I'll be damned if its not true! I went back there got my coffee a best friend and then skedaddled to work. While I sat on my usual chair and I turned on my computer, I dwelled in the darkness of the office, sipping my coffee before the boss and patients arrive and that statement on the cup holder just made me laugh at the hilarity of it all. I didn't need Cinnamon rolls, I know I called it "my morning coffee as usual'' but by that I meant the jolt of caffeine I get whenever my stomach isn't in knots as it usually is in the morning. But at that moment, I just had to get my coffee its best friend and hell, I enjoyed eating his best friend.

That whole thing got me thinking of advertisement and its efficacy. I think advertisement works to a certain extent. For example, I think of myself as a semi-slut when it comes to cell phones. Everyday, I think of cheating on my good ol' Rumor from Sprint. I see the iphone and the blackberry and Verizon's new touch screen cell. But would I ever actually two-time my faithful rumor? No. And not because I don't want to, but because I don't have the money to actually do it.

Ahogadalajara

I have done many bad things to my body (especially to my feet). I mean, we all have at one point. I have put my poor bladder under extreme stress when refusing to use a public restroom and waiting until I got home. I have already mentioned the torture methods i subject my feet to with my shoes. I have passed the threshold of hunger, turning into nausea and in return making my stomach so upset I couldn't eat for two days. I have pushed my legs on the treadmill far more times than I can count, I have tried to belly dance to exhaustion,making my back hate me for days, etc. . . but today I hit a new low.

I had once again crossed that threshold where hunger becomes nausea, but I hate letting my psyche dictate what my body should do and I know my psyche is saying: ''If you eat, you are gonna puke!'' whereas my stomach is saying: ''Um, we haven't eaten since last night, a little lunch would be nice????'' (i never eat breakfast), so i decided to let my carnal needs take over my mind and got a carne asada burrito at this Mexican place i had never been to before called ahogadalajara; which i think is a hybrid of "tortas ahogadas" and "Guadalajara." Ahogadalajara, get it?

Anyway, there I go, skipping my way to the joint and I must say, it was a pretty nice place. There was all these Mexicans decorations and the people were nice and the menu, ohmygod, the menu. . . so i get the damn burrito, skip my way back to work, open the Styrofoam container and I encounter the atrocity above!!! O.K., I'm not a real Mexican so you give me a tortilla with carne asada inside and that's a burrito to me. But i had never seen a burrito of that texture; the rice was a different color, a little too mushy as well; the carne asada was hard to chew; I couldn't taste the cheese; and I'm sorry, where are the beans I was promised? I swallowed hard and said to my stomach: ''Stomach, you wanted this so damnit you are gonna eat it all! That was $7 I could have used on something else.'' I take the first bite and lets just say I would rather eat a dollar burger from McDonald's or any other fast food place than eat that again.

You know that episode on Seinfeld when George's girlfriend keeps going to the bathroom after eating and Jerry thinks she could be throwing up the food? Remember the first thing George said? he wasn't concerned about his girlfriend's well-being, he was more concerned with the fact that he was paying for food that was going to the toilet! Man I've never agreed with George more! I had two options: I could throw away the food and either get something else or not eat at all, rendering my 7 bucks a waste; or I could eat it and risk puking, but hey maybe i wouldn't puke! Then at least i wouldn't lose the 7 bucks. Well, I went with the latter and even though I felt like puking i didn't. I felt so victorious over that burrito! It had been looking at me taunting me with those greasy eyes saying: ''That's 7 bucks you will never see again.'' But no sir, nope, I ate that mofo like there was no tomorrow. Victory!

I have resorted to this

Your Learning Style: Enthusiastic and Imaginative

You are always up for an intellectual challenge - in fact, hard subjects are actually easiest for you. You Should Study: Advertising Astronomy Biology Chemistry Finance Journalism Marketing Physics

What Should You Study?

I am so confused as to what to do with the rest of my life that I have resorted to an internet quiz based on merely four questions. . . FOUR QUESTIONS! It did match what I had in mind though. . . must be a sign. . .

Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

BARACK OBAMA:The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a CHANGE! The chicken wanted CHANGE!
*
JOHN MCCAIN:My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.
*
HILLARY CLINTON:When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure -- right from Day One! -- that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about me.......
*
DR. PHIL:The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he must first deal with the problem on 'THIS' side of the road before it goes after the problem on the 'OTHER SIDE' of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not tak ing on his 'CURRENT' problems before adding 'NEW' problems.
*
OPRAH:Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.
*
GEORGE W. BUSH:We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.
*
COLIN POWELL:Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road...
*
ANDERSON COOPER - CNN:We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.
*
JOHN KERRY:Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.
*
NANCY GRACE:That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.
*
PAT BUCHANAN:To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
*
MARTHA STEWART:No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.
*
DR SEUSS:Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.
*
ERNEST HEMINGWAY:To die in the rain. Alone.
*
JERRY FALWELL:Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain truth?' That's why they call it the 'other side.' Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media white washes with seemingly harmless phrases like 'the other side'. That chicken should not be crossing th e road. It's as plain and as simple as that.
*
GRANDPA:In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
*
BARBARA WALTERS:Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road.
*
ARISTOTLE:It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
*
JOHN LENNON:Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.
*
BILL GATES:I have just released eChicken2007, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check book. Internet Explorer is an integral part of the Chicken. This new platform is much more stable and will never cra...#@&&^(C% ......... reboot.
*
ALBERT EINSTEIN:Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?
*
BILL CLINTON:I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your definition of chicken?
*
AL GORE:I invented the chicken!
*
COLONEL SANDERS:Did I miss one?
*
DICK CHENEY:Where's my gun?
*
AL SHARPTON:Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.
*
RALPH WALDO EMERSON: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.
*
SIGMUND FREUD: The fact that you thought that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
*
CARL JUNG: The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.
*
CAPTAIN JAMES T KIRK: To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
*
LIFE OF BRIAN (MONTY PYTHON): He's not a chicken, he's a very naughty bird.
*
JOHN McENROE: Cross the road?! You cannot be serious!! That chicken was on the line!!!
*
JERRY SEINFELD: Why does anyone cross a road? I mean, why doesn't anyone ever think to ask "What the heck was this chicken doing walking around all over the place anyway?"
*
VITE CORLEONE: We made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

Color Me Pink

I'm a girl, and as such I like girly things in moderation. One thing I never liked though was the color pink. It never appealed to me, to be quite honest. I've always been more into blacks, greys, greens, and reds. However, in the last year or so, I have been able to make amends with the color pink and I've actually learned to embrace it.

The strangest thing happened last week. I was browsing at the mall and decided to stock up on underwear because, well. . . you can never have enough right? And for the first time I purchased a pair of pink panties and matching bras. What in Dante's inferno possessed me to do that? I don't know, but I'm currently enjoying the new pink additions.

Republican Guy

The Bush Administration is not responsible for the huge deficit, he said.

Sarah Palin is a strong, smart woman who was very suitable candidate for the vice president position, he said.

Homosexuality is contagious, he said.

"I guess I'm not open-minded enough," he said.

"It's hard for me to see other people's points of view," he said.

My co-worker told me to give him a chance. Yeah, I'll give him a chance alright. A chance to run for the hills before I push my hot dog on a stick down his throat. Who knows? Maybe that will help him to get the stick off of his ass.

Quotes

"If jounalists weren't in Iraq, any politician could say what he liked and no one would be the wiser."

-Lara Logan, war correspondent (Glamour Magazine, December 2007 issue).

"When Candidate A says it's raining and Candidate B says it's sunny, a journalist should be able to look outside."

-Campell Brown, CNN anchor, on accusations of bias in the network's coverage of the presidential campaigns during the elections (TIME Magazine, November 10, 2008 issue).

New Orleans

I have been reading way too many Heather Graham mystery novels. My former co-worker loves fiction and made it her mission to get me to like it too. I have 3 Heather Graham novels to read and 3 more Nora Roberts novels awaiting. "Why don't you just say no" you ask? Because I love reading, I'll read anything. Yeah, some are incredibly cheesy stories, like the one where the guy was professing his undying love to a girl he had known less than a week, only because they almost died in the hands of a deranged killer and blah blah blah. It's true, all mystery/romance novels start and end the same way. But for the purposes of this post, I have been reading a lot of Heather Graham's stuff and although it has failed to elevate the faint idea of what love and romance are, it did make me want to spend all my hard-earned money on a ticket to New Orleans, stay at the french quarter (because not visiting New Orleans' French quarter would be like going to Amsterdam and not visiting the red light district), absorb its culture, people, traditions, etc. . . And last but not least, buy a bunch of goodies and come home. Well, maybe not home, but let's call it California for now.

The one gift I get every year...

That I did not get this year. Oh, how I wish somebody would have given a pair of warm fuzzy slippers! Batman slippers would be super awesome. I'm freezing my ass off and my poor feet are ice cold. Note to self: must buy fuzzy slippers. My feet have endured a lot over the years; endless walks, tons of stairs, countless of high heels, the latest: a pair of 5-inch, open-toe, metallic pumps. The brutal cold is something they should not have to endure, they go through so much already.

Nuestro Juramento

No quiero verte triste
porque me mata
tu carita de pena,
mi dulce amor.

Me duele tanto el llanto
que tu derramas
que se llena de angustia
mi corazón.

Yo sufro lo indecible
si tú entristeces...
no quiero que la duda
te haga llorar...

Hemos jurado amarnos
hasta la muerte,
y si los muertos aman,
después de muertos...
amarnos más.

Si yo muero primero
es tu promesa,
que sobre mi cadáver
dejés caer...
todo el llanto que brote
de tu tristeza
y que el mundo se entere,
de tu querer.

Si tú mueres primero
yo te prometo...
escribiré la historia
de nuestro amor,
con toda el alma
llena de sentimiento,
la escribiré con sangre...
con tinta sangre
del corazón...

Come here puppy puppy!

It's 1:32 am and I don't know why I insist on stating what time it is on my blogs but I do. Anyhoo, I went to the movies today and saw "Marley and me," among others. I have a dog, his name is Oreo. That's him right there, in the photo above, as if you needed clarification. If you are wondering why I would humiliate him so by naming him after a cookie, let me tell you there is a perfectly good explanation for that. You see, although now he's gray, when he was born the little shitzu was all black and had a patch of white hair in the middle of the chest, causing me to compare him to an Oreo cookie. After much deliberation, my sister and I decided that would be his name, thus triggering what I think should be a new disease: "post-naming depression." I think Ashlee Simpson's baby, Bronx Mowgli Wentz or BMW baby as I call it, will suffer from it. Oreo is still can't get over the fact that he was named after a Nabisco product.

Anyway, as I was watching Jennifer Aniston pretending to look tired and exhausted after taking care of the kids while looking stunning and perfectly tanned, I got thinking about Oreo. Aside from my family, there probably isn't another being I love and trust as much as I love and trust Oreo. Yes, he takes a lot of my time and money, and I have to pick up his feces, and he sometimes looks at me with murdering eyes when I deliberately degrade him by making him wear cute little outfits. However, there is nothing better than coming home to that little ball of hair. . . well, I could come home to Anderson Cooper. . . but that's besides the point.

He's my little partner in crime. We both raid the fridge for a midnight snack, or sometimes 3am snack, together. When he would poop on my mother's carpet, I would clean it up before she noticed. And when is cold at night, he cuddles at my feet to keep them warm. I'm beginning to think he might be doing that to keep himself warm, but I refuse to fully accept the idea. I don't share my food with people, especially when there isn't a lot of it, because I like food too much. But there's no way I could eat anything with Oreo by my side without sharing with him, even bottled water.

Bottom line, I love my dog. I truly, really love him, and to celebrate that love here are some of my favorite dog quotes. Toodles!

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that. ~W. Dayton Wedgefarth

The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's. ~Mark Twain, letter to W.D. Howells, 2 April 1899

A dog can express more with his tail in seconds than his owner can express with his tongue in hours. ~Author Unknown

“He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart.” ~Unknown

“If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man..” ~Mark Twain

“Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate.” ~Sigmund Freud

"One reason a dog can be such a comfort when you're feeling blue is that he doesn't try to find out why." ~Unknown

“If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man..” ~Mark Twain




“To err is human, to forgive canine.”Unknown

A dog is not "almost human" and I know of no greater insult to the canine race than to describe it as such. ~John Holmes

When a dog barks at the moon, then it is religion; but when he barks at strangers, it is patriotism! ~David Starr Jordan

There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face. ~Ben Williams

It's not too late to give a good Christmas gift

The Philadelphia Inquirer reviewed it already and I can't wait to get my hands on this thing. Here's some excerpts:

Barack Obama mocked Hillary Clinton’s foreign policy expertise until he didn’t.

Hillary Clinton savaged Obama’s ability until she praised it.

John McCain vaunted Sarah Palin as the best person in the country (after him) to be president until he lost, whereupon he declined to back her in 2012.

And Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich? Well, he told lots of kids, when he visited their schools, that it’s important to talk nice …

Hypocrisy, according to [author David] Runciman, is “inevitable” and “ubiquitous” in liberal, democratic societies. It’s also, he argues more surprisingly, “something we have to learn to live with” rather than eliminate. A greater risk, he believes, is not recognizing that “too great a reliance” on public sincerity - too much sanctimony - is a mistake, because “liberal democratic politics are only sustainable if mixed with a certain amount of dissimulation and pretence.”

What we need, Runciman asserts, are sharp antennae that distinguish appropriate political hypocrisies from “intolerable” ones. There is, he contends, “no way of breaking out from the hypocrisy of political life, and all attempts to find such an escape are a delusion.”

Sometimes it feels like there's no way of breaking out from the hypocrisy of life in general. I try my hardest everyday to be as honest and true as I can be. I truly do try to never judge a book by its cover, etc. But if my boss does something that makes me mad and then asks me to go on a starbucks run, I will put a smile on, yes sir'ing on my way out and skip my way to starbucks. My loyalty is on the person whose hand signs my checks.

Somebody sent me this today

What do I want?

* A man who will sing and dance around the house with me, even though he can't really dance, or sing (Agree, although a man who can dance would be awesome)

* A man who will snuggle up with me on the sofa and watch a movie (Snuggle? Sure, why the hell not? I'll just use the guy as one big teddy bear. . .wait. . . I already have one of those. . .)

* A man who isn't afraid to be himself (Agree)

* A man I can fight with (Agree, although I would use the work "argue" instead of "fight")

* A man I can make up with after the fighting is done (Totally agree)

* A man who will live life to the fullest, finding something joyful in each and every day (Hell, I'll be lucky if I get to accomplish that before I die. How can I ask that from a guy if I can't even do it myself?)

* A man that has really good hygiene (Agree 100%)

* A man that smells good (See above)

* A man that will eat the organic, health food that I prepare, and not begrudge me when I sneak the venti white mocha from Starbucks that's so NOT on my diet lifestyle (I don't eat organic stuff so not applicable. . . NEXT!)

* A man that is nowhere near perfect, but just perfect enough for me (Totally agree)

* A man that will defend me if needed (Especially from his mother!)

* A man that doesn't need me to tell him what to get me for birthdays, Christmas, etc... because he knows me well enough to pick something out on his own- no need to go the expensive route, just the thoughtful one.

O.K., timeout. If there is one thing I know, one thing, is that there may be only a 5% of the male population that is actually capable of doing what the statement described above. I don't know this from personal experience (because I've never dated a guy long enough to find out) but I would need one hundred extra pairs of hands to count all the times I've seen it happen. You can be married to a guy for yeeeaaaars. He still won't get it. You can't rely on hints, you just have to be direct and to the point. Hey, maybe you got the guy who actually understands your pouts, eye rolls, mood swings and faces. . . but for the rest of us, don't expect your guy to know what to get you for your birthday or Christmas or how to read your mind. Just. . . don't O.K.?

* A man that smells really good - oh, wait, I said that already.....mmm, but it is an important one on the list (You said it sister).

Men I may not know, but shoes, shoes I know...

There is two things I hate about shopping and malls in general: Window shopping and shopping for others. . . on a deadline. . . and a budget. I will never be able to understand what people find so amusing about window shopping. What good can come out of that? How could you possibly be fine looking at so many pretty things and not being able to buy them? The second thing I hate maaaaay be my fault for doing my Christmas shopping last minute.

Well, it's after 2am on Christmas day and I'm blogging. It's very obvious my Christmas didn't go well huh? It actually went to the dogs. . .but that's another story for another time. I realized something last night at the mall. I may not know much about guys, they are still very strange, complex creatures and yet they can be the simplest of them all. You always learn something new and there's always one that will make you go: "Well, I did not know that" or "Well, that was different." Thus, there's always a surprise. However, I have lost that when it comes to shoes. I realized last night, much to my chagrin, that while I still don't know much about men, I know a lot about shoes. . . maybe too much.



I went to different shoe stores and I could not find anything that remotely grabbed my attention. Every shoe was like "been there, done that." There's nothing exciting anymore, everything looks the same. The thrill of the hunt is over, the exhilaration has passed. All the shoes look alike and the stimulation of a 5 inch heel is gone. All the stores have the same shoes, with the same print and the same fabric. I want different, I want crazy, I want out-of-the-ordinary! Now, this is going to sound shallow and predictable and you'll think I'm a label whore, but I really think the only place to find that is at a Christian Louboutin or Jimmy Choo boutique, and it completely makes sense. There are shoes that are meant for mass production, such is the case with shoes sold at malls, those are shoes produced with a mass market sales target in mind. And there are shoes that are a hybrid of haute couture and mass market. Although they are not customized for customers, there is a great deal of importance in the choice and cut of the fabric. Those shoes are not produced in mass quantities but in small quantities to guarantee exclusivity. Those are not the kind of shoes your average secretary or teacher will wear to their workplace. They are also the kind of shoes that will leave you broke.



So I shall end this blog with a big sigh and some homework. Next time you go to the mall, look very closely at shoes sold there. Tell me if you haven't seen it all before.