Notes from Self

Dear Me & I,

In reference to your request for 2 or less gym related activities daily...please note that corporate sponsored snacking and potlucks nullify the agreement. We will be working this off later.

Regards,

Self

Note to Self

Dear Self,

While we appreciate your motivations, perhaps the Zumba, Ultimate Abs, Treadmill and Weights, were in fact a bit to much last night. In the future, please limit your improvements to 2 or less activities at the gym per night.

Thanks,

Me & I

Daily Insanity Report

Today, I would like to thank the federal government for funding lifesaving genetic modification research, I am glad to see that with a deficit of 13 billion dollars(that's 11 zeros) our priorities are in order...we have modified puppies! Thank God, because I thought I wouldn't live to see the day when household pets are... able (brace yourself) to GLOW(under UV light). Huge relief.

S.P.A.M.

Due to overwhelming response , January will now be Stupid People Awareness Month (SPAM), hug those in your life with an acute sense for the blatantly obvious...if you get alot of hugs, Congratulations, you are special and people ARE aware of you and will now make accomidations for you. Good Job, go lick some windows and don't forget your helmet.

Cheese with my wine, please

oh the self induced pain i inflict on myself. 3,yes,3 bottles of wine consumed by one person in one evening is in fact excessive.

how do i know this....i tragically fell victim to my own uberindulgence last evening.wine is a sneaky little devil waiting patiently to creep up on you when you least expect it. it all started innocently enough, a glass or four while i cleaned my house. then i thought(mistake numero uno...thinking) it's a lovely evening to sit on my lanai, have another glass or four as the case may be. then my grandmother called, not the i mind this, i actually enjoy talking to her. however, the call spawned the opening of yet another bottle, and another glass or four.

now, the wine is beginning it's well planned sneak attack, and i am beginning drunken genius thought process, which for me fortunatly( for others as well as myself) involves really only one thing.JUUUUNNNKK FOOOOOOD!(yes as a matter of fact my internal monologue does remarkably similar to the ghost of christmas past) it was then i began my trek to 7-11 to aquire the one thing that could make the night better...skittles(mmmm,chewy rainbow goodness) apparently at some point on my quest for the holy grail of candies i injured my self. not really sure how, as i don't remember feeling any pain, but i do in fact have a booboo on my shin.( this booboo is also a sneaky little bastard, it like the wine crept up on me. i did't feel it until i was draging my aching carcass out of bed this morning and laid eyes on it.) i proceeded to go home and whack myself in the head with the wall. not on purpose i assure you. nay-nay this wall came out of nowhere as i was attempting to enter the bathroom. i now have a bump on my head and have spent the morning apologizing to my liver, and pleading with my stomach to settle down. blargh, ick, and other moans of malaise.

License to Bark?

why the hell do i need to get my dog a license???? i just recieved notification for the city&county of honolulu that nalu's dog license is about to expire and i must send them $10 in order to renew it.

so, here's my question, what does this "license" give him license to do exactly? bark? fetch toys? chew furniture? shed? given the definition of license to give permission or ability , i ask you dog license? is the city & county of honolulu giving nalu permission to be a dog? does he need to take a test the way i do in order to get a driver's license? let's see, sniff butts: check, drool: check, shed all over: check, pant: check.

let's say i buck the system and decide to be a rebel and not renew his license, will he still be a dog? will he now get fined for wagging his tail, and chewing bones? will he have to slick and sneaky each time he goes outside so the man doesn't catch him in the act of dogging without a license.... will he even know he isn't a dog anymore? should i tell him. i fear the news could damage the lil guy.but i suppose i will go, and hand over the mandated $10 bucks, so we can continue living our blissful lives and nalu will never have to know how close he actually came to losing his doggness.

WMD

upon careful observance over the last few days, and reconsideration i have in fact decided to sell my dog to the u.s.army as the next great weapon of mass destruction.....potential iraqi neuclear weapons...ppffffttt, nothing on these teeth wrapped in fur.
it all started when the airforce thunderbirds decided 500 feet above my house was a great place to practice barrel rolls, ah, did i mention that 730 AM is the best possible time for this as well. well, my fearless fleabag was at first confused and even a bit curious at these winged monstrosities flying about our usually peaceful skys. however by about the third pass, and the incessant shaking of the bed, walls...house, he was a bit miffed by their roaring presence and decided to take matters into his own paws and tell them how he really felt. 10 minuted of horrific growling and fearsome barking, he succeded in scaring off the silver dragons.
it was then the idea of his super power struck me...if this dog can destroy lives and houses, well just imagine what he could do to foreign countries....reduced to mere rubble overnight. why we could pull the troops out tomorrow, just leave destructive wonder dog to the job. the shock and awe campaign has nothing on this hound of hell, eat your heart out republicans!
for now however, i will settle for reducing those damn jets to schrapnel, at least until 411 gives me the direct line to george "that's what the W stands for"bush.....although nalu goes to washington is sounding more and more interesting with each and every gas price hike.
"Nalu top secret weapon of mass destruction reporting for duty sir"

Style?

has anyone been clothes shopping lately?? what the hell are the designers thinking...i seem to have missed the quit eating memo. why was i not informed that in order to have any nice clothes this season i was goin to need to become a strict anorexic, or i suppose at the very least a fan of praying to its holiness the porceline god. when have sizes changed so much? how many size negative 0 people are there out there...give them a sandwich for craps sake! i'm trying to find a dress not my way into the nearest bottle of prozac because i can't get my pinkie in the damn sleeve!
what happened to a womans curves?and i thought we were the softer sex, good lord ;am i the only freak here with hips and breasts?i think i am in good shape, i work out regularly, make an honest effort to eat right(back to the memo again) and am by no means overweight, and yet i try dress after dress and am damn near suicidal by the endof the day.doctors and designers need to get together and make clothes for the real world...if the average womans size is 12-14, then why are clothes made to look good on size 4-6???? if young girls are developing eating disorders at "alarming" rates, why are the stores catering to pencil thin waifish manequins on which to hang their clothes. and now that i am on this rant and rave let's get into the other side of the story...let's talk "empire waists and forgiving flares"....it seems to me they only manage to make a person look larger than life! looking pregnant is not an issue...IF YOU ACTUALLY ARE! i on the other hand do not wish to look in the near birthing stages anytime soon, and would appreciate if i could find a dress that respected that. and really, did you mean to place that gynormous pocket right at exactly the point where my hips are the widest? what is that some idea of a joke? i thought bootylicious was a good thing, what happened to i like big butts, and baby got back? i got back and front and these are the very things preventing me form buying clothes! i should be embracing my self and all that crap but how can i when i can't get the sleeves of haute couture around my size 8-10 hips?

it's time...i am changing my dogs name to "lucifer, hound of hell". it's very official sounding i feel. is your life dull? are you in need of new surroundings? do you feel the need for terror and destruction? call luicfer, in days your home will be trashed, you will have an overwhelming need for new furniture, and you will now suffer a panic attack each and every time you must leave your home.let's start from the beginning.... i had to leave behind a great dog in va when i moved to hawaii due to his age, the required quarantine, and the insanely long journey to get here. his worst quality was trying to carpet my hard wood floors with his own fur, a personal sacrifice on his part as i see it.

well, after a few months here i got the "hankerin" for some furry companionship.i had the need for slobbery kisses and squeaky toys galore.wade tried hard to fill the void, but lets face it, as you know he's not very furry(hello bald), only drools in his drunken sleeps, and detests squeaky toys. so off we trotted to the local pound, and there was a tiny 7 week old ball of fur with a tail, milky brown eyes, and big feet.i was instasmitten, and we named him nalu.

fast forward 5 months...my perfect pup is a monster dressed as a dog. the running tally of things lost to his jaws and paws include:1 new bed(mattress AND box spring),1 i-pod, set of stereo equipment, 5 video games and 2 controllers, 1 shower curtain, 1 door, 1 WHOLE room of carpet, countless photographs and other easily shreddable paper stuffs, 3 pairs of oakely sunglasses,2 cell phones, 2 peoples sanity, oh and the partridge in the fuckin pear tree. our trainer says he suffers from separation anxiety. oh he will get used to it says she, or grow out of it...meanwhile when i come home nowadays, if the walls are still standing i am in fact pleasantly surprised.in my opinion, he has of course become possessed by satan himself, and i'm thinking of contacting the catholic church and beseeching them for an exorcism.my sanity is gone, my zest for life no more, this 50 pound animal has broken my soul....fuck you peta.

a toast to losing your mind, and all the little narsisctic thoughts that make us crazy, a neverending saga of what if's, who did's or didn'ts, whys and just don't give a damns, to considering possibilities and proababilities of just going with the flow, can't get off the shore or headed up the perveribial creek without the oh so crucial paddle, to the morals, fundamentals, mostly fuck it alls and the mess left behind, like the christ not the christians, to the contemplations of an empty mind why all the more room to grow, staring at the beginning of the end, one day one month one year turning into the next right before dumbfounded eyes, nobody wants to die but everybody wants to go to heaven.

A Lesson in Irony

As I was driving past the Capitol in Washington D.C., I was struck by a chain link fence surrounding the area...A symbol of democracy and freedom neatly enclosed by gates and metal...one section pulled downward...someone/some ideal trying to get in or out?

The start

The start to a long awaited photo junkie's journeys from the eastern seaboard to paradise captured one day, one moment, one second...saved for a lifetime.