Faith Salutes

friday fun day

When I worked in LA at the political consulting firm, we used to call Friday "Fun Day". That meant we might have a drink at lunch and wore jeans. Because wearing jeans boosts morale or some crap. I wish I would of had a drink more often, now that I think about it. We hyped it up, but usually it ended up in one or two beers total for the entire group.

I don't miss Friday fun days as much as I miss those people. I liked them a lot. They were smart and made me laugh really hard. I was the odd man out, but I didn't care...I just liked them and still do.

Fridays in my life are different now.

This Friday, today, I was notified that a database that I am supposed to be working with has not been updated in over a year and to not "trust it". I was also notified this week that I will be new Managing Editor for the academic journal I am working with here at ASU. We are supposed to go to print yesterday. When do I allow the panic to set in? How about now? Now? Now? Now? How about nothing  has been copy edited, etc? Wow, this is bad.

Friday In-boxes

I try to pass the time in bad classes by making jokes at the expense of the professor and/or who talks the most in class yet does not contribute one iota to my learning experience.  I think I am fairly successful.  And even if I am not, I don't care because its for my own benefit.

So, I was happy to receive this email from someone in my class who works for a major Non Profit here in Phoenix:

LOL. "Mystery Professor" is a bad ass, no?  when she said something about something she did and you said "of course you did" i almost choked.  i think it would be dangerous if i ever sat next to you....

The "mystery professor" has a habit of recounting her bio for ungodly amounts of time. "I this", "I that", is ferociously draining in a class not about her/him. Her/Him also has the same haircut as Huey Lewis, as in Huey Lewis and the News, but a tad shorter and spikier on the top. Its pretty offensive considering the sex of the professor, hint, hint.

I hope your Friday is more fun filled than mine and I hope you have a drink for me.

Faithsalutes Friday Fun days forever.

 

Outlook

I hate the way outloook looks. It is not exactly aesthetically pleasing, but I appreciate the way it operates. I use Outlook plenty these days. No wonder the Bill Gates Foundation has over 30 billion dollars in it...Outlook delivers.

My outlook has changed over the last couple of years, I have become more of a "damn the man" orientated, fight for your rights individual as time has passed by. I am still a friend of Alex Keaton, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Though my politics are such that we as individuals need to be responsible for themselves, etc, etc. I have become acutely more aware of options in our capitalist society that I am not fond of nor can I endorse, especially in corporate America: 

1. I have to walk in the blazing hot sun from my car to work in the morning. Before I get to the door, I walk another 5 minutes passed rows of undercover parking. The rows of sun free parking are closer to the door...bogus.The undercover parking is reserved for management. If I get burnt in my blazing hot car seat, I am suing said corporation and asking they provide undercover parking for all! And/Or removing current undercover parking and moving it away from the front door. We have to burn in our cars and walk farther in the hot, hot sun? As far as I know the under covered parking spots are paid for by upper management (most work at home during the week, but you never know when that will happen, so you can't snag their spot.). Damn the man!

2. I cannot remember no. 2 because I am trying to use Outlook to finish up a million things.

3. refer to no. 1

CORPORATIONS SUCK even though I love me some libertarianism!

Faithsalutes a blank.

Bust: Spanky needs a MALL!

Spanky is like a 15 year old girl in the "A" group sophomore year. She loves boys, junk food, running to my cell phone, visiting friends, and watching MTV with me. This morning I took her to the park next to the Veteran/Indian Hospital. Yes, we have a Veteran/Indian hospital, err something like that. Anyway, there are two extensive outfields, back to back, at the park. I let her go, and she doesn't even run to the flock of pigeons in the middle or even run at all. She is like, "Umph, can we go home and watch MTV. I love Brody Jenner on the Hills. He is so hot right now." I even felt tempted to run to bust up the pigeon reunion and I hate running. I started to run across the field and then back again to get her motivated. I started to get this nostalgic feeling running through my veins. Freshly cut grass and reclaimed water shooting out of sprinkers motivated the flashbacks. I used to run and outrun everyone on my teams in soccer, even if I was the worst player that year...I would never stop running. Now I hate running, I despise it. Then I realized i didn't actually hate running, I hated running in a gym or around a track. Give me a field of grass and I am off like a gazelle. I ran around the park a little this morning and it felt so damn good. My lazy ass 15 year old daughter-dog who tries to sneak off to school in padded bras wanted nothing to do with it. I should get a blow up man doll and strap it to myself so she is interested in being a dog and running after some pigeons in a large FIELD! Maybe if I tell her we will go to the mall if she runs I will see better results.

Faithsalutes being 26, because being 15 sucked...except the running in fields part.

how i roll

i look at plenty of blogs with beautiful photos of food and daily cuisine. i hate to admit what i ate today...but i figure its better to let people know what the real deal is, so they don't feel inadequate like i do. good citizens here is the real deal:

for breakfast i had 2 handfuls of skittles.

for lunch i had some olives stuffed with minced pimientos and a handful of Cheez-Its.

for post lunch i had 2 Jack in the Box tacos.

for dinner i had just what was left over on my pantry shelf and refridgerator. less than a handful of pasta with some old sauce and a freezer mix of veggies and potato that has been in my freezer for a very long time. it was also about a handful. my theory is to eat everything you have til its gone.

a guest this weekend left a brownie, i ate some of that for dessert.

i have some frozen fruit, a few eggs, a few slices of bacon, and some edamame to eat tomorrow through friday.

my deal is, never say there isn't any food...in my pantry there are some dog treats and some old peanuts. i threw out a rotten potato tonight. i think there is some stale trail mix in there too.

mowgli is in la, so i role like this.

i know what you are thinking. "there is no way in hell i am ever eating dinner over there.." well, don't worry about it, because are not invited.

Faithsalutes living on a dime.

Purse Purge

I just dumped out my purse...

Nike sweat arm bands, A certified mail receipt from the Post Office, 2 Downtown ASU campus guides (I am not sure which one is the most recent or why I have two), a business card for a Yoga guru (I have never done yoga, not interested in Yoga, and have no idea where that came from.), a thin Sharpie in peacock blue, a blue highliter, a pencil sharpner in the shape of a nose (because that is funny to stick a pencil up a nose to get sharpened), an unsharpened pencil with Huntington Surf and Sport logo on it, a parking meter ticket, a menu from a restuarant in Tombstone we never ate at, our water bill for $82.34, coins from Europe, Canada, and Mexico, 1/2 a Franc and a fake dime that Coinstar wouldn't take, a business card from a woman who works at Hospice of the Valley and another from a lady at United Way, a coupon for $50.00 off framing at Michael's, a book entitled Mistakes Were Made (but not by me), matches from the Rokerij, matches from a cigar shop in Tombstone where we bought cigars for the boys and cloves for the girls, a button I made with an airplane on it, citrus Zip Fizz canister, Lady Speed Stick in Orchard blossom (dare to wear black), my passport, my wallet, my make up tote complete with: L'oreal Voluminous Mascara, bronzer, MAC blush creme in BRIT WIT, Victoria Secret Beauty Rush Shadow in Brown to Earth, Trucco Skin Tones Foundation, Tarte Cheek Stain in Tickled, Arbonne REpair Corrective Eye Creme that I use to actually remove eye make up, Jane Eyeshadow Brownie Points. Mac Powerbook 64, 12 inch.

It is usually more exciting than this, but I cleaned it out recently.

Here is the bag it is stuffed in: Feed Bag by Lauren Bush.

Ahhh, a fresh start.

assignment

i have an assignment due today and i did not write it down. i have no idea what it is. in undergrad i never wrote anything down, they would mention the assignment and i would either a) memorize it and not forget or b) look it up on the syllabus 30 minutes before class started.

i cannot believe i don't have it written down somewhere. i assumed i would remember at the time. because i always have in the past, even page numbers.

apparently those days are gone. i now have to write everything down.

i am a loser. i cannot find any information online nor the professor's email adress, this is unbelievable.

Faithsalutes good note taking.

all i want to do is eat candy all day

i want to sit in willie wonka's chocolate factory all day long and get fat. i like my face these days, but my muffin top has a life of it's own. my goal was to get back to my wedding weight by my anniversary. i don't think that is going to happen. nope, not gonna happen. why? because i want to eat doritos and drink rum and cokes all day.

why can't we eat candy and fast food and not exercise and be thin? why? why? why?

grumpy

i feel like kicking someone in the throat this morning.

this weekend i saw a man passed out next to the freeway overpass in some landscaped gravel. i thought he was dead, but when i walked back by he had rolled over. it was about 100 degrees plus outside. he was wearing blue jeans and green boxers. i was going to kick him to see if he was alive, so good thing he rolled over or i would have kicked him.

this weekend we went to the massage school and waited 3 hours for a massage. i had the creepy guy. the creepy guy who breathes heavily and has to wear a head band so he doesn't drip sweat on your bare back creepy guy. creepy guy went to great lengths to make sure none of my bits were showing or were compromised, so being creeped out didn't last long. i wouldn't wait 3 hours again for a massage. the music was from the 3-2-1 Contact soundtrack and it was extremely irritating. bring back the new age focus melodies crap so i can enjoy myself already.

we went to the neighborhood DQ. i had never been there before. ice cream hurts my teeth. a girl served us ice cream. it was the best thing i had had in months (pomegranite mojito tops the list). mowgli had me check out the girl in the window head on. he said, " friend don't let friends draw on their faces with a sharpie". ha. but first, "friends don't let friends shave OFF their eyebrows." i am sure you can see where this trail of jokes was headed. then again, who cares, just gimme that sundae.

a drunk man sneezed 9 million times next to us at a bar. then he decided to come sit at our table and then he sneezed there too. drunk sneezes, as you can imagine, are ten times more SARS-tastic then regular sneezes. Influenza nasty. he wore a suit and had his hair slicked back. he looked like he had committed at least 3 of the seven deadly sins.

spanky loo ate a tub full of bacon grease. she didn't die, throw up, have the runs, or suffer any other noticeable side effects. thatta girl. gimme a "B" for bacon.

i have to go and get something to drink now.

Faithsalutes my refraining from Perez Hilton.com for 5 weeks now, DAN! well, i did look at one link because my friend's friend was sitting next to Mandy Moore and it made it on Perez.

Mellow Licks

"Your mom goes to college."

ohyo yo.

Spanky and I went out for a leisurely morning stroll. On our stroll we came across an ecstatic hispanic* mother . Mumu clad with her hair pulled back in a sleepy tangled mess, she proclaimed from her front porch, "I am so proud of you! Good luck on your first day..." Her college aged daughter stepped off the porch and then the lawn, leaving her beeming mother's embrace and unlocked the passenger side door of her little beater car. She was wearing knock off converse from Payless, her hair pulled back in a bun surrounded by a clip you see in bins at Big Lots, her jeans rolled up circa 2000, and a sleeveless striped shirt that was a bit tight. She said thank you to her mother and bye and then bye again...waiving as if she was about to step onto the Titanic and sail off to the new world. They both smiled, big bright smiles.

I almost cried. I was so proud of her too...no, seriously. When she managed to put her little bag into her car and get buckled up in the driver's seat, her mother asked about her parking situation, making sure she had a shuttle when it got late, and then helped her with directions one last time. She was giving her directions to Arizona State University (Tempe campus.) I almost started to weep right there on the sidewalk. I cracked a smile as the daughter sputtered away down the street and she smiled back. It was so apparent how important it was to her mother and to her that she was about to embark on a incredibly demanding and giving journey. I remember starting my first day at UCLA and then receiving my first grade. I called my mom, "Mom, I got an A...I cannot even believe it." I was the first in my  family to graduate highschool and then the first in my extended family, with the exemption of my father's mother, to graduate with a college degree. I know a gabillion people have degrees, but this was just one of those moments I understood.

I bet our freshman will do just fabulous. I am not in the camp that college is for everybody, but seeing something like that evoked a certain type of daughterly pride in me...maybe it was because I have a mother too and I remember how she loved me through my scholastic meltdowns. I think we both cried on my first day of school.

Faithsalutes neighborly college love.

*Note that I used the descriptive Hispanic, instead of Mexican. I am back in academia and politically correct bull sh** is all the rage. And I am full blown rager.

Hectic-isty

Frantic, hectic, ahhh, back to normal.

When life gets this way, I have a storage of memories that make me feel at peace. A couple of weeks ago on our way to Tombstone, we drove by a tiny marked gravel driveway. I turned around 500 yards ahead and headed back to the monastery, marked with a small functional sign on that tiny driveway. When we pulled into St. Francis lane, there, right in front of us were 5 or 6 peacocks. One male had his feathers up and out for show. But before were even allowed to avert our eyes and take notice of the peacocks, we were uplifted by the site of this cross. It was hidden by the trees and bush on the small two lane highway. The surprise in Benson, AZ made the trip.

CW and I were elated.

Faithsalutes the peace we find at the foot of the cross.
,

its all about the ratings, A new LOW

The Government, for lack of a better term: SUCKS...no matter who is in charge. I am ready for change.

And not the change anyone who is running for office is offering.

Faithsalutes starting from scratch.

Delayed Mix Release

The producer went out to have some conversation last night and did not submit the MIX last night because she then went into a deep post conversation sleep. Sorry. Here are a few songs you might already know and love and a few you should look into via iTunes, etc. New music makes everything better.

Artists in BOLD

Phoenix Long Distance Call

Boston More than a Feelin'                                                                    

Ben Harper Walk Away

Michael Jackson PYT

Arcade Fire Crown of Love

Depeche Mode Blue Dress

David Bowie/Queen Under Pressure Remix

Jay-Z Frontin'

postal service I am sleeping in

The Grouch Simple Man

Be Good Tanyas The Littlelest Birds

Bloc Party Banquet

Anything by Regina Spektor

I would love new music suggestions and I think I will continue to post random tunes.

Faithsalutes relating to music.

straight outta catalina

we sailed this weekend (marina del rey to catalina island: approximately 28 miles from the southern california coast). the epitome of upper class white recreation. docked in one of the many coves of catalina island, we went ashore. i saw all the affluent white folks a country club or martha's vineyard could handle. i drank the local drink they call buffalo milk. i fit in. i am not going to lie. i wore the appropriate attire, etc, etc. i kept my mouth shut and danced to whatever the dj would play, though i did recommended he play Michael Jackson. except love shack. i hate that "effing" song. i HATE it. i hope it dies along with obesity and aids.

swimming in the ocean + dancing + sailing + no sun burn + unhooking the hooks from the fish that were caught = legitimate fun.

mowgli has the damn-ed camera. no photos for you. i arrived back at the little house that could, she had a little accident. my front curtains fell. the entire hood can now see into my little sanctuary of unpaid bills and un-hung art. oh the joys of home ownership. i need to sell my dog so i can purchase some curtains, because she sucks at "playing" security.

i listened to a lot of music this weekend. i drove 10 hours. i drove 10 hours with my 17 year old cousin, king of teen bopping. because i am not completely selfish i allowed him to trade off iPod air time with me. fortunately for me when i had my fill of all american rejects and other such crap, he would fall asleep and i would get to play my music. i thought about all of you good citizens and i thought about some recommendations or even some music friendly reminders. i will post later this evening when i have exact titles in front of me. new music is great rejuvenating therapy. a mix for the good citizens to be released 8/20/2007.

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i am here to judge:

there are 2 cars in the parking lot at my part time place of employment. they are both bmw's. they both have personalized license plates.

1. TIFSBMR

2.KIMSBMR

Tiffany and Kimberely's beemers. i think i am going to throw up barbie doll heads.

i drove by another car with a license plate that read "6XBulls". i am assuming they are referring to the 6 Chicago Bulls championships.

judgement:

1. we live in phoenix, not chicago. the phoenix suns lost a bitter battle in one of those championship bouts. suns fans are as loyal as any, i would watch my back.

2. the car was a $7,000, blue, something japanese little tin can. i doubt she was a) married to a player. b) held a legitimate place in the Bulls franchise. c) on the team.

3. i would be spending that yearly registration cash on something more substantial, if i was in fact such an avid fan. ebay has plenty of Chicago Bulls paraphernalia that will actually accrue interest. i personally could stare at a poster of Michael Jordan for hours.

lame.

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Faithsalutes staring at a horzon lined with barbie mansions.

In love, Chemical Reaction

Another flash back to the Projekt Revolution Tour.

I was in love with the lead singer from My Chemical Romance. Don't worry, I immediately revealed to Mowgli that I was briefly going astray and would be back when the beautiful man from New Jersey completed his rock star goodness. He moved in such a way and used his mouth in such a way that I almost became a fan of the actual music.


Faith salutes shivering rock goodness, or if you will, my chemical romance.

Elementary School

names changed to protect the innocent.

to be posted at a later time when i have more time to write...later in the day aka insomnia time. in the mean time here is a tattoo we saw at a concert. i am not interested in this type of permanence. the linkin park concert had a wide range of revolting tats to choose from:

flags, i like flags. i want my own flag.

Out of the office window I can see the Lincoln Family YMCA. Old, brick, 8 stories high, with a reasonably sized American Flag forever waiving on top of it. There is something about the American flag that makes me feel weak in the knees and yet stand up perfectly straight. I cry every time they play the national anthem at the Olympics, because my ex boyfriends didn't make me cry but national pride does. I am such a freak.

Maybe I will get a flag tattoo like my brother. He has a Danish and American flag with the Danish national flower (poppy) in the background. It is done in the old Sailor Jerry style and looks fantastic.

Maybe not.

Though, that show LAink makes me want to be completely covered in art. Only in America.

Faithsalutes a la Americana. Someone want to design me a flag?

Fur, Oil, and Vodka

Your Inner European is Russian!

Mysterious and exotic. You've got a great balance of danger and allure.

Who's Your Inner European?

Uh, my inner European lives in Asia. Russia is not in Europe. And since when are Russians alluring? Well, they do have some dashing gymnasts and some men in ballet that are swoon tastic. But Putin and Yeltsin, not so much.

back in Saddle

Because I am in that sort of mood. And because my life is going to drastically change in a week.

I started blogging and tuning into blogs during a lull at a political consulting firm I was working for in Los Angeles. Looking out of the 5th story window in my office all day and internet surfing was like blood letting in a Charlotte Bronte novel. Backwards and with no results. I had just graduated from UCLA, given over my projects into some capable and some incapable hands, got engaged, planned a wedding, got married, moved to the other side of the 405, ran some political campaigns, and I was tapped out. Then again, that's what I do best: operate under pressure. I inherited that from my father. When every moment of my day is booked up with demands from professional to personal, I am happy. I am like Trump. Ha. There is never enough to do,
"Hey Faith, Can you make this happen?."

"No problem." Was my motto.

These last 9 months have been an unusual break and the break has turned into a slight break DOWN. I miss my every 5 week crash and burn sessions. Watching my dog dream is cute, but not demanding. I can appreciate the little things, but there also has to be a dash of big things. I am sick of television and the slow motion. I enjoy naps, immensely, but I rather nap from exhaustion. I am tired of an open calendar. I know this sounds to some like I have completely lost my mind, everyone wants a clean calendar free of places to be and deadlines.

I am ready to get back in the saddle, so to speak. I am ready to lead again, think about innovative engagements, and be in an environment where I thrive. I will slow down again when babies come, well not really.

Faithsalutes the free time, but time is up.

Ladies in Waiting

I do not believe in anything less than a perfectly groomed female. That is why I don't comb my hair on Saturday mornings or most mornings, but my dog's nails must be painted. The fuzz on the carpet are the remnants of a destroyed Mr. Potato head donated from Auntie Cara that she whole heartedly committed to destroying. I pick up more guts of stuffed animals than the Plush factory. Better alternative to her having at our shoe collection.

Faith salutes lazy Saturday mornings. Thanks Team Middle East for the photo.

Sunday in the AM

I slept in. We slept in. My guests are still sleeping. It is 10:13 AM. I am assuming it is from the food comatose effect.

This weekend can be summarized thus far by the incredible amount of food we have consumed. The amount of food was only made more incredible by the taste factor. Taste factor = par excellence.

I will briefly outline my favorite...we stopped Rokerij (please use Yelp site, it helps all). A brilliant place in central Phoenix. We shared appetizers.

blue crab tostadas
filet mignon avec melted brie atop thick toast
calamari
beef skewers in 4 sauces of yum yum
oyster shooters (cheese and bacon included)
seared ahi

I usually do not read any posts on food, sorry blog friends. I look at the pictures and think, "That looks good." My curiosity peaks and ends there in that .5 seconds of time. I never read the ingredients or how it rolled off the back of your tongue into the abyss. Just not my thing.

None the less, I appreciate goodness of food.

Speaking of which, I have to head out because I am going to eat a cinnamon roll and some bacon. Luxury.

Trip summary to come, with hilights including a bar scene and Tombstone.

Faith salutes the art of a full stomach.

i don't really have anything to say, except this:

this is one of those days when i don't really have much to say, so i am going to type until something magical happens. i like to type in all lower case letters. when i was in high school e.e. cummings was very influential for a few of us.

you know those camp songs and folk songs that have lyrics that repeat themselves over and over again like "99 bottles of beer on the wall" or "this is the song that never ends..." i used to love those songs as a kid and would gleefully jump in and sing my bloody heart out. i think if i heard one of those songs now i would punch whoever was singing it in the throat. and i have no problems punching children either. i cannot believe my mother did not commit suicide or murder one of us after singing the Roter Rooter or Metropolitan Mattress jingles an unfathomable number of times while riding in the car or playing in the house as kids. if i were her, i would have killed each one of us (except Levi, he was the perfect one). take us out execution style. i have to be the most annoying child that has actually made it to adulthood. i was extremely loud, talked back incessantly, bossy, picky, sang annoying songs, never wanted to sleep, i started cursing like a sailor in 5th grade, saved old gum to chew later, had full blown anxiety attacks about not scoring perfect scores on her spelling tests at age 7, and i was always sick with one thing or another. i am surprised i wasn't dropped in the desert somewhere and left to die. truly, its a miracle i am alive.

i was not on ADHD medication, but was given warm baths daily and was forced to watch 30 minutes of television after school each day to "wind down." home remedies. i have seen every brady bunch episode ever.

i look back on it now and realize how wise beyond her years my mother was and how she did a beautiful job coping with her eldest and only daughter. my mom was 19 when i was born. she understood who i was, even at a very young age. she let me keep my room all a mess with scissors, glue, paint, beads, and supplies strewn throughout my room, projects stacked up in each corner (always). my parents bought us water beds at one point. i would fall asleep in the middle of the night in elementary school with scissors, pens, and needles. mine was patched 4,567 times. i woke up sopping wet on several occassions. she let be an artist. she let me pick out my own clothes. she gave me space. she let me read whenever, wherever. she put me in my place. she helped me dream. she appreciated my humor, but made better jokes at my expense. she loved(s) me unconditionally. she put in my turquoise hilights. she commanded respect. she most importantly, at this juncture in my life, inspired me to dream of africa...and i have never stopped since. i am going to take her there one day, one day soon.

moral of the story: if you have a crazy kid, hang in there. they can grow up to be nuts like me. ha.

Faithsalutes childhood dreams that come true.

Miracles and Trapper Keepers

I saw the school bus this morning on the block.

Back to School:

1. mechanical pencils (.5)

2. trapper keeper, with tabs for each class and college ruled paper

3. lisa frank folders

4. Nike Tennis shoes or white K-Swiss

5. smelly markers

6. tropical colored Crayola markers, skinny and fat

7. Lisa Frank erasers

8. New clothes from the mall, the one with ice skating rink

9. mini stapler, stickers, clear ruler

10. Jansport backpack

In fifth grade, this was my dream back to school list. Unfortunately, it was the thrift store and whatever was on sale at the grocery store. I am all growed up now and I am heading back to school, here is my updated dream list:

1. Every gadget from the Apple Store: ipod, laptop, etc

2. Shopping spree at topshop.com or Bloomingdale's

3. Hand crafter notebooks from etsy.com

4. Personal stationary

5. Schwin bicycle, remodeled vintage

6. Parking passes

7. New Make-Up

8. Stella McCartney for Adidas, for the gym I might go to while in school

9. Iphone or will settle for blackberry

10. Weekly facials

I will be back in school next week and will not be returning with any of those items in my possession. WHAT? BACK IN SCHOOL? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?

I HAVE lost my mind and that is exactly why I am going back. Masters Degree and an "assistantship" working on a global = Journal on Community Development. By the grace of God, it all came together in a matter of 3 weeks. Applications, gpa's, letters of recommendation, spot opened up, no else qualified for an assistantship, out of state tuition covered etc...I am so excited I could scream. I did scream actually...at home for 30 minutes in Mowgli's ear. I think the dog liked it, a lot.

I had some other plans, but they just didn't feel right for now...maybe down the road. I have been struggling with this for quite sometime, what to do next. It is a classic quarter life crisis scenario. Foci: I started to think about why I wanted to go to school in the first place even after graduating high school, where I wanted to be in 10 years, what I wanted my resume to say (literally), the type of people I wanted to meet and be surrounded by, read old journals where I had scribbled out goals and concepts, and almost all of them reflected the exact "big picture"....I realized I had been taken off track and needed to take some action. I also was so grateful that I had a few little scribbles here and there to remind me of who I was and who I aspired to become in addition to my goals. I highly recommend writing it all down and even picturing exact scenarios in your mind ie meeting the President of the EU or Steven Spielberg or your future husband, praying about it, mediating, and asking for advice...all contributions. THEN STOP READING MY BLOG AND MAKE IT HAPPEN. Ha.

I am a Sun Devil now, but I think a Bruin would eat a Sun Devil alive and the Sun Devil would burn through his stomach lining. Either way, I win.

Faithsalutes back to school.

Guest Blogger: Anal Friend

One of my dearest friends and guru at a non profit that has to do with medical supplies had this to say, because he reads more news than anyone I know or anyone I know combined:

Long before the Onion and The Daily Show became celebrated for their particular blends of fake news, there was the Weekly World News. You know the publication; it's always at the front of the grocery check-out line, next to the other trashy weeklies, but head and shoulders above them content-wise.

Bat Boy Escapes Prison to Wed Paris Hilton in Satanic Ritual!

Alien Abductions Strike Heartland!

Nostradamus Writings Reveal Hillary Clinton as Whore of Babylon!

Sadly, there will be an open spot at the check-out come August 27. The Weekly World News is closing its doors, and its last issue will hit newsstands that day.

One has to wonder whether the editors will use the issue to tie up all the loose ends of the "stories" it has covered. Will Amelia Earhart be found alive in Branson, Missouri as a 100-year-old gambling addict? Will U.S. government scientists finally evade the long arm of John Law?

Why did the Weekly World News go under? Advertising, probably. In the print publication realm, the Onion gets the advertisers that want to attract the cool kids. Apple doesn't want to sell iPods to loony cat ladies or 40-year-old basement dwellers.

Or maybe the true reason the Weekly World News is shutting down is that real life has become so much more absurd than the publication could ever be. Could we ever imagine a world where Nicole Ritchie would gather as many news clips as the presidential primary races? Who needs Bat Boy when you have Lindsay Lohan?

As the great Dr. Hunter Thompson said, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."

Someone who is anal salutes the art of fake news.

How to start your car in my neighborhood, other than hot wiring

When your car doesn't start, your 2 year old car doesn't start, you need these three ingredients to make it happen:

1. A 26 year old blonde wearing her husband's sandals.
2. A gay, bald neighbor in a sleaveless shirt whom you adore.
3. The Latino ice-cream man with a mouth full of silver teeth and potbelly.

Bam, car starts.

There is no "I" in hood.

Faithsalutes resources.

Weekend Update with Faithsalutes version 101010.9

Last week Mowgli and I went to two concerts. 1. Projekt Revolution Tour with Linkin Park (I think their music is horrific) and 2. Jimmy Eat World (One of my favorite bands of all time).

I want to do a recap on the crowd, but not in the mood to write today...maybe later because it is juicy. I just wanted to recap the weekend/week:

1. Jimmy Eat World concert on Friday night at the beautiful Mesa Arts Center...after a few drinks at the Dirty Drummer, a sleazy bar chain. The third row, center stage was unbelievable way to see your favorite band in their hometown. I did something I have never done before and tried to get ahold of the set list. I did get it...suckas.

The odd thing was, we were not aware they were playing in AZ. We were backstage at the Linkin Park show earlier in the week and our friend who helps manage the tour and is a videographer was there chatting it up with us about bands. I mentioned Jimmy Eat World, he said they were his favorite, and Mowgli and I retorted that we would pay a lot to see them again and again. Two days later I am on Craigslist and I click on the tickets link, which I have never, ever done and up on top are tickets to the Jimmy Eat World show that night. We call, we claim, we pay, we go to SOLD OUT show...Faithsalutes, oh so elated.

2. My brother turned 25. My brother has 2 kids, a beautiful wife, a beautiful home, beautiful cars, and gets more and more handsome the older he gets. But it is not the surface beautiful that counts, he is pure gold all up in the inside. I am so in love with my brothers, I cannot even type this without starting to well up with tears...so I will stop...but just know this: I love him and someday my kids will be the luckiest kids in the world to have an Uncle like him.

3. My Uncle turned 40. I was the luckiest kid in the world to have him. I cannot believe it, he seemed so much younger my entire life...I almost didn't buy it. He used to let me hang with him when he was 19. I was allowed to go to Flakey Jakes with him, eat a burger, and look at girls with dyed pink hair who he thought were hot and I felt like I was the sh** for years because of it. Literally, the SH**.

4. I think 9 or so babies were born this last week. 2 cousins, 3 friends, etc, etc. Does it make me want to have babies, you might be wondering. Um, No, actually. I want to have a tribe like the rest of the women out there with a uterus and hormones, but not yet. Fortunately for me, my parents had me when they were very young so they will be around awhile and I am in no rush. You get married less than a year ago and all of the sudden it is the constant baby question. I am not having a baby, WHY DON'T YOU have a BABY. How about..."how is the marriage going? Heard/Experienced that it is pretty rough the first year straightening everything out, maybe you should wait to have kids. The divorce rate is pretty high you know...." A very good friend of mine said we should wait to have them later, when all of our friends are done and more economically sound so that we receive more luxurious items at our baby showers. Also, a unmanageable amount of hand me downs. Rational economics my friends, rational economics.

5. Instead of sheets and a giant piece of fabric, I have curtains in 2 rooms. Bla-DOW. 3 windows out of 10. I feel all growed up. Team Middle East is coming to visit this weekend and my house is not exactly fit for visitors, so I am hoping they appreciate the curtain effort on their behalf.  Curtains cost an arm, a leg, and some stem cells. No wonder so many homes have outdated curtains which I have openly and secretly mocked. You might as well go on vacation, adopt a baby, or buy at least buy a new couch.

6. I devoured some elk steaks while discussing church and church politics with my dad on Sunday night. My dad and I have very similar views on the church, so it makes for pleasant conversation. Back to the elk, it was delicious. I am not usually a fan of game meat such as this, but it was quite tasty. GO E-L-K!

7. My dog thinks the mailman is the best thing that has ever happened to her since flies zipped around in our living room. She is in love with him. On Saturday she went on the front door to molest him. He is like the mailman on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, but black. Wait, why was the mailman's name Mr. McFeely on that show? I do not want my mailman to be McFeely in any fashion. But mine is black, so maybe his name is Mr. Sooky Sooky Now or Mr. I-Delivers.

That Chester the Molester mustache should have tipped me off.

8. I am missing Los Angeles, like a fish out of water. As much as I love Phoenix, I have not seen the beach all summer nor have I had the privilege of being stuck on a freeway for hours recently. I also miss seeing Asians, especially the Japanese kids in West LA. This weekend in Phoenix was fantastic, but if I won the lottery I think I would move back.

9. I have a mirror on my desk at work that has a smiley face printed on it and it says, "Can your smile be heard?" above the corporate logo. I get it. I get where they are going with this, but when I am calling the help desk in India for the billionth time, I want them to hear patriot bombs, Condaleeza Rice punches, and a drill sargent all in one. I look in that mirror every morning, because I do my make up at work...once I get here, sometimes I even shave my legs with this disposable razor I have in my make up bag. I am lazy in the morning and I rather sleep in another 5-10 minutes. I put on make up in my cube so that people over Outlook can "hear me" make aggressive demands while still looking fabulous for my cube walls to admire. I hate that mirror and when I leave...I am going to accidentally roll over it.

10. Mowgli is back in LA and I have til Thursday evening to kick some major arse and get this house ready for Team Middle East (friends)...I am hoping all will go well and my hang ups will be few. I don't think any pictures will be hung up, but a bed will be made and that counts for something. Also while Mowgli is away, I am spending some time with the BFF who is only here for one more week before heading to Princeton to finish up her Masters Degree. She has been in Africa for 10 months. Her time in Africa involved everything from the elected President's to sleeping in brothels. I think living in New Jersey will be a similar affair. I cleaned the house for her too. In short, its all about the little house that could this coming week.

Faithsalutes elk meat on craigslist.

PS DE-LURKING WEEK IS CONTINUING AND YOU MUST LEAVE ME A COMMENT.

tliff

Hot Hot Urban Love

Underneath our local freeway pass, back dropped with the latest graffiti, a colony of pigeons in love do their thing during the week. I grabbed my camera and clicked a shot before shifting into first and taking the turn back into the hood.

Faithsalutes...until they crap on my car and I want to shoot them with guns.

Mexico Got Wise, Maybe

Dog the Bounty Hunter might be free...after he was extradited to Mexico for capturing the heir to the Max Factor fortune in Puerto Vallarta. He was wanted for Murder. 

Read more here.

Faithsalutes the Dog.

De-LURKING

After careful consideration while taking a shower, making some eggs, driving to work in the morning I have decided that I would like to use this blog to better serve a specific audience. Unfortunately, I am not sure who my audience is made up of....is it just my friends whom I have close personal relationships with, because if it is I will write about or post things that appeal more to them. Is it a mix of males and females? Are there people I have never met nor have they ever posted a comment?

So this week (Friday to Friday the 10th) along with my regular posts, I am asking that those who visit the blog say "hello!" and let me know why they keep coming back or why they haven't come back in a while.

I want to meet you!

De-Lurking, according to Nice-etc is when you check in and let the blogger know who you is...

So, drop me a note.

Faithsalutes delurking days.

And the Artic goes to...

And the Artic goes too...

a) US and Canada

b) Russia

c) Denmark

I am loyal to all three...so, I am not choosing sides. I am Danish by blood, I am an American, and I have a Russian step-brother.

I say, let the Artic decide: if your exploratory flag placing committee don't all lose their lives to frigid artic air, you get to claim it as your own. Survival of the fittest.

Faithsalutes polar bears and penguins.