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Remember Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken. Remember how good it was. Remember how you watched 9 million times. Remember how hot Jake from Sixteen Candles was, remember how that is the same dude in Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken?
Trying to spice up your Thursday. You can thank me later.
Faithsalutes Michael Schoeffling.
I love Craigslist. I love everything about it. I love the raw forms of humanity that become so neatly organized in categories and the addicted community that haunts the site for lovers, friends, free brick, and unedited unbridled posts about a deal gone bad.
I especially love the missed connections and barter pages. For example today here is what someone posted in the "barter section" (see link for photos):
Items I have to Trade; (will also take the cash price or a combo of)
Queen Size Tempurpedic Mattress with Foundation $1800
Kitchen/Dining Room Table w/4 Chairs $140
Bath Set $40
Power/Electric Wheel Chair $800 (Paid over 3k)
Prada Belt $60
27" Tube TV $50
Womens/Girls Clothes
Fish Art $10Will also trade services of;
Childcare or Eldercare (wife is a nanny/caretaker)
Lawn Maintenance
Moving Services (you provide truck)
Pet SittingLooking for;
150cc+ Quad ATV (automatic)
Dooney Burke Purse
Scooter or Street Legal Dirt-Bike
Juicer
Puppy
OR???? (will entertain all offers)
I would also like to trade some fish art valued at $10 for a puppy or an entertaining offer. I would also trade a 27" TV for a puppy. I would also like to offer my wife's services for a scooter or Dooney and Burke Purse or an entertaining offer. Mix and Match here on Craigslist.
And in the missed connections pages today:
You were the brunette in the red top. You caught me urinating on your tire and yelled at me, but before you did you gasped in amazement. So I know something impressed you. Let me make it up. I was really drunk. I don't usually do that.
HAHAHHA. I will only urinate on your belongings when I am drunk. Call me!
Faithsalutes bartering for mates.
bighairbetty asked. people who push their dogs in strollers provide jobs. i can only look at it from an economic stance, otherwise i would start involuntarily punching people in the throat.
that is all i can say about people who push their dogs in strollers.
Faithsalutes 4 legs doing the work of 2.
i love generic brand names. like the place up the street that is now winshill's donuts. i wonder what the owners were thinking when they named it...maybe they thought the likeness to winchell's donuts was enough. a donut is a donut that is what i say. winch or win, feed me donuts.
i had donuts this weekend. i haven't had a donut in a very long time. it tasted so good on my lips. i want more donuts. i want donuts everyday of my life. bacon flavored donuts.
i understand the repercussions, but do i have to accept them? no, no i do not.
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donut donut donut
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Spanky is in California on "vacation". I am going to retrieve her this weekend and bring her back to reality. Hot nasty grass less yard with hot steamy water in her dog bowl. We do it right around here...
She better love me more when she gets back.
Faithsalutes feeding your dog donuts.
I ended my stint on the east coast by Saturday night. It started that morning at 6:45 AM. I had traveled by Taxi from the Upper East side to 34th and 7th to catch the bus to Washington DC. After a grueling bus ride of no sleep and taunting eye closure here and there, I arrived at Dupont Circle. Dupont Circle was buzzing with the brunch crowd and locals lounging around at the park. I decided I too needed to have some "park time" before engaging and romancing the DC Metro one more time. I bought a sandwich, took off the top layer of clothing, and breathed deeply. I dined on a turkey sandwich in my black tank top and my 38 pounds of luggage. I felt instantly new, which I needed considering the last three days. And considering I had dog urine all over my super cool Nike's that no one else has...the park was the perfect place for dog urine soaked tennies. They needed to air out. My soul needed to air out.
The prior 72 hours had consisted of, but not limited to, a splurge on vodka gimlets, meeting old friends for lunch and dinner in downtown DC and at a bar in the East Village, saying goodbye to my beloved Cara at Grand Central Station as she heads to the Congo, finding out my friend is now the desk officer for Bolivia (let me break that down: Secretary of State, Asst. Secretary for the Western HEMISPHERE, and then MY FRIEND. How bad ass is that.), hashing out the good and bad items sold in Soho (South of Houston) and ending up at a Cuban restaurant eating plantains and drinking fresh mojitos...oh wait, we ended up at the mexican restaurant that is call Los Dos Molinos. It is the sister of the brother who owns a restaurant by the same name here in Phoenix (a landmark here).
Those of course were the less detailed highlights. Details are surging in and out. Surges like this one: Why was that black bag lady dressed monochromatically in pale pink and covered in tediously detailed white war paint? That took considerable time and materials resulting in my admiration. And how many young (15-20 years old) black lesbian couples should I have expected to encounter? Because there were a hell of a lot of them. Lesbians and war paint aside, when I arrived in NYC I was on a mission for shoes. I searched, but the overwhelming sense of "this is a waste of my time, because there is so much more to experience" won out over a pair of shoes. Spending time at the MET, claiming a stake on the rooftop garden next to a Jeff Koons installation and having a light hearted conversation with an Israeli political scientist, yeah, that won out over the pair of the perfect shoes. K and I were short on cash and payed less than the suggested entry fee. I felt bad, but then didn't fell bad because we used credit to buy a beer and some lemonade for 11 dollars. AND because the Superhero Fashion exhibit made me want to throw up and I think feeling physically ill from a special exhibition should be cause for being reimbursed in cash. Skipping the shoes and paying the less than suggested entry fee was just what the vacation gods would have wished.
K and I shopped for sometime and I walked away with one item. A vintage scarf from the West Village. A scarf with covered wagons, a Davey Crockett* looking character, and an Indian on it. I went to NYC to buy something Southwest. Go figure.
We galavanted around Manhattan. We listened to well renowned jug bands and Stevie Wonder duos in the subway. Eventually my trip had to come to an end, both parts. The beautiful DC part and the gritty NYC part.
Once in Dupont Circle lounging at the park, I realized a few things: 1. I had no cash and 2. I had no access to cash. 3. You have to a cash supply for the DC Metro and the bus which would take my barely conscious self to the BWI airport. I made my case to the Transit folks. I gave them my 3 used metro cards with a slight remainder on each and found all the loose change I had. They hooked it up. I got a metro transfer and a bus transfer. I took the red line to Fort Totten and then the green line to the Greenbelt. Once at the end of the green line, I took the 30 Bus to BWI. At BWI, I waited for my delayed flight watching a burned DVD of Enchanted April. My neighbor made a copy for me and left by my front door before I left. Have you seen it? I like it a lot.
Landing in Sky Harbor ended up being more of adventure than I had anticipated. Several soldiers were returning from Iraq and were on my flight. We walked off the plane and out into airport amongst family and friends waiting for their beloved soldiers. I cried. I cried a lot. I had to hide my face. I was grateful I had a hat on and kept my head low. Watching tear jerked mothers and daughters, adoring sons, and teary eyed soldiers overwhelmed me. My tear ducts turned on high, I eventually made it to the curb outside and wiped my eyes and snotty nose on my scarf. I don't need a scarf in Phoenix. Mission Girl at Airport Crying, accomplished.
Faithsalutes Trains, planes, and automobiles and coming home to a dirty house.
*So in love with Mr. Crockett as a kid. And I just spent an hour watching old Disney clips on youtube. Tales of Brer Rabbit, Davey Crockett, Daniel Boone, and Disney Sing a Longs. The best part is the smoking and Uncle Remus.
I am in Washington DC. I am laying in my hotel bed watching Lock Down. Mowgli and I love Lock Down. There are two queens in my room. I have all my junk piked on one and I reserved the other for sleeping. My room is in Lock Down.
I flew into BWI on Sunday afternoon. The ground was wet, but the air wasn't cold. The air was cool and muggy. I waited for my luggage for an unreasonable amount of time. I heard an old lady yell and then turn into a tearful disaster. I overheard her mention that she was waiting for five hours for her ride. I would also cry. Finally, the luggage was spit out into the hands of some very unhappy passengers.
I took the B29 bus to the Green Belt Metro Station. I waited with an Asian lady who was reading a Vince Flynn Novel at the bus station. She was not interested in interacting, neither was I. All I wanted to do is eat steak and fall asleep with some of it still in my molars.
The bus drove through the green. Green, green, and more green. We passed some randomly placed homes on small lots and we drove by Animal Husbandry Rd. (The US Government is not big on creativity.) I imagined all the jokes I could make about Animal Husbandry Rd.
We arrived at the metro station. I took the green line to Fort Totten station. I got off and took the red line to Metro Center. The station at Fort Totten is outside on a platform. I saw more green, thick meaty green tangled green. I wanted to take some shears and carve my initials into it, but I was tired and late for dinner.
Alex and Kristina picked me up from my hotel for a surprise meal. They are the dining king and queen. They took me to a place where they serve urban picnic food. It was sort of like if the Queen of Sheba had a picnic...I felt like the Queen of Sheba, personally.
Alex is really cool to dine with because he asks all the right questions and neither Alex nor Kristina mind eating family style...all for one, one for all. Kristina and I for as different as we are, make similar observations so I enjoy her mucho mucho.
You can read the formula to fun here.
After watching some action in CVS (it was like this boy's momma took over the body of a 23 year old black male and laid down the law for this brotha, it was awesome.) it reminded us of the days in Westwood. My old boss man said he had been seeing some of the same bums for 20 years. If I were a bum I too would live in Westwood.
Back to DC, I went to bed late and woke up early. I walked to Kinko's with the morning rush in downtown DC. There was a set of twins there acting like they had never seen a copy machine before in their life and acting really nervous for some reason. I was nervous for them and got the hell out of there once my resume was crispy and printed up right.
Back in my hotel room I put on the most Republican outfit I could find without the cowboy hat, gun holster, and shiny diamond "Jesus" brooch. A white crispy button down shirt and a knee length navy skirt complete with panty hose and tan heels. I even wore pearls, duh.
I headed off to my interview. I was almost 30 minutes early. Which was good and bad. Bad because my hands began to sweat and good because I overheard a morning staff meeting. After hearing a young lady speak at the staff meeting I thought, if they hired her...I am in.
(The job is not in DC, I am just interviewing here...more about that when I know if I am offered a position.)
After the interview was over, I went to lunch with a gentleman who works for my prospective employer. He has worked at embassies all over the world. He worked in Kinsasha (Congo) as well for the Rwandan War Crime Tribunals. Summer vacation came up in conversation. He and his wife are most likely taking the Trans Siberian railroad from western Russia to Mongolia. Ummm, vacation? Come again? But he does work in Lebanon these days and speaks Russian so he will be just fine. I wasn't worried as much as I was pleasantly surprised to be speaking with someone who was so set to see the rare world.
We finished our sandwiches amongst the Tucker Carlson and John Bolton look alikes. I continued to notice the number of Blacks and was sort of inspired by the teenage girls and their style. I wanted to snap some photos and imitate. Then I thought, uh, I am getting closer to 30, white, and trying to get a conservative firm to hire me...I might want to scale it down a bit.
I did walk around after a brief hiatus in the hotel room. I rewarded myself with a quick walk to the White House. I then treated myself to a hot dog from a street vendor and some white pants I found at the H&M. They are tight linen pants, I was inspired by the yummy black girls that were looking so supa dupa fly.
I accidentally found Zara's and H&M...intuition I guess. I remember thinking, "I am just going to walk one more block and see what is up." And then bam...shopping. I like shopping alone and with no money. I just sort of walk around and sift through things. Buy something around 10 bucks and get it out of my system.
I had dinner with Leigha and Nick. Leigha is due in 4 weeks. Nick works in downtown DC, so we met there and then road into Alexndria, VA to eat Tapas. It was amazing. I had a pink sangria and little dishes of perfectly fried and perfectly roasted morsels. I felt like we were somewhere other than Virginia. We had a brilliant time. Leigha and I went to high school together...we have remained good friends. She met her husband at William and Mary. They are one of the most pleasant couples to be around. I inspire to be in synch as they are...Leigha is the kind of girl who has the dictionary memorized and looks 5 years younger than she is...like a little baby girl genius. I envy her freckles and the fact that she rotates her coffee mugs so they all get used the same number of times.
I rode the metro back downtown and this time used my Ipod to create ambiance...
It is now Tuesday morning. I am off to the museums and to figure out how I am going to get through my interviews again tomorrow.
I love being a tourist.
Kiss Kiss.
Faithsalutes the 8th grade Washington DC trip. Get your first kiss in DC! Make history. And thanks a lot for taking the worst picture of my life, stupid 8th grader.
(I tried to load photos, but apparently they are too big...so I will put them on flickr and post a link tonight.)
Things you will most likely never ever in a million years hear out of my mouth (and I say a lot...so this is really juicy.):
"I am so annoyed my neighbor spent time planting 5 trees on the side of my house outside the fence. Jerks."
(This actually happened. He said they would and they did. Hip Hip Hooray.)
"I hate airports and the hassle of traveling."
"I love when you are getting a massage and the masseuse talks the whole time."
"Turn down the Michael Jackson."
"Oh, no, please let me do the dishes."
"I can't wait for a woman President."
(Ouch, that one is going to offend some Good Citizens.)
"I am too old to wear colored tights."
"Action films with Will Smith are so good."
"Eww, that food dropped on the floor. I won't eat it..."
"Check out my six pack."
"Oh, that couldn't be my hair. I don't shed like an animal."
"Your kids are totally smarter and better behaved than my niece and nephew."
"You make me laugh harder than my brother."
"You make me laugh harder than my mom and my Uncle Carmichael."
"I have got to have this latest Coach purse." (Gag.)
Okay, I am tired of typing these out.
Faithsalutes a full week ahead, full speed ahead. DC and NYC...here I COME!
I tried rock climbing for the first time in my life tonight. I FREAKING LOVE IT. I love it. I love it. I love it. Sure, it was indoors with air conditioning and I didn't have to pack my food and sleep in a tent on the edge of a rock face, but it was still climbing 30 feet up several times using my forearms and legs.
Its expensive man, but I am seriously interested.
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Sunglasses I am after. karen warner/derby. me digs karen warner. 
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Faithsalutes the art of hanging from tiny rock niblits by your finger tips.
I was reminded today of the song I walked down the aisle to in October 2006. Unfortunately I cannot find an original video for the song on Youtube. So you will have to bare with me, and listen to the song. It's beautiful.
Ben Harper's, Blessed to be a Witness.
Faithsalutes a productive Monday.
i am in a holding pattern. mowgli and i are playing scrabble online. it is his turn. i came back from being beat by almost 50...back in action Good Citizens.
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This weekend was pretty non eventful considering the last couple of months have all been jammed packed with "events". We went to D and C's for dinner. She cooked scallops. The scallops tasted like slices of meaty goodness of the sea. They have a little boy who is almost three years old. Three year olds are good for the world.
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I have an old school youtube video I want to post on here. Most of you will not see the humor in this video, because either 1. You don't know a lick of Spanish 2. You do not think people falling is funny or 3. You don't remember what it is was like to pick on other kids nor do you think it was funny that you yourself were picked on, and for that I apologize.
Faithsalutes a beautiful week ahead...not really, but I will stay near an air conditioning vent and pretend.
You know you live in the hood when:
White people from the upper middle class neighborhoods pull up in your neighborhood to "volunteer" to clean up.
You know you have no shame when:
You boss the white pretty folk around and make sure they get every bit of garbage out of your alley, sweep the sidewalks, and don't offer them water from your hose.
You know it is a success when:
The "pretty nails done" white folk want to hang out with you and they want to come back another day to "volunteer" along with my neighbors who don't speak English, but still get all dressed up for neighborhood clean up day. Nothing says picking up trash on Sunday like a low cut shirt, tight jeans, heeled sandals and lots of gold jewelry on. God Bless Mexican Senoras y Senoritas.
Oh, I forgot my favorite part, after bossing the people around, the fact that they hired babysitters to watch their kids so they could come out and help. Love it. My hood is full of nannies that probably work for less, but oh well.
You know you need a new dry cleaner when:
You walk in the door and they don't acknowledge you because they are on the phone. They do not count the items themselves, but ask you how many pants, shirts, blouses, etc. They stay on the phone, phone to ear the entire time you are standing at the counter. The TV is blaring and they are on the phone so there is no possible day they can get it done a day sooner.
Taking my business elsewhere, thank you very much.
You know you have a suspended license when:
The court sends you a letter in the mail and now you have to ride your bike.
You know when you should have thought something through when:
You are coordinating a large women's sports fund raiser and the recommended attire is "cocktail" and you show up in a pink sparkle inspired short cocktail dress. Everyone else is in a black pant suit. I will give some of the ladies credit for the tad bit of gel that went to spike up some hair though. Way to go LA
Thank you ladies for all your cash dollars and for still taking me seriously despite the Barbie inspired cocktail dress.
Lesson learned: lesbian cocktail means black pant suit.
You know when you sort of want to have girl when:
You like looking at Barbies all of the sudden. I am not anywhere near pro creating, but I do secretly want a little girl. I want a little girl who likes Barbies. I did not care for dolls nor did I care for Barbies as a child. This was a great disappointment to my mother. I hope I have a daughter who likes dolls so I can invest in some retro Barbie action. So cool. 
You know when you are sick of bacon when:
Psyche. I am never sick of bacon. Are you crazy? Who do you think I am?
You know you miss your friends when:
You stock them on flickr.
You know you have grown older when:
Vodka and soda water will do just fine.
You know you you can't control the volume of your voice when:
The restaurant falls silent and everyone hears you say, "And has AIDS!"
Faithsalutes getting back to the blog. Lots to report. xoxoxo
My great grandmother's name was Sunshine (also my great Aunt). She was the sort of matriarch of the family with 7 children, 2 husbands, and a Southern upbringing. Whenever I hear the word sunshine I think of her and I think of thawing out in the sun when I was a kid, fresh out of the pool. I used to lay by the side of the pool and "warm up" before usually, well, getting back in the pool.
Anyway, I haven't laid next to a pool to warm up in awhile. These days I just let the sun that beats in through my office window warm me from the recycled air that is shoved around in the a/c vents. I have two more weeks of this at best, then I am going remote and laying by pools.
I will be able to work from a beach in Bali or a truck stop in Tulsa. Give me wi-fi at every Waffle House in America!
Hence the blogging down low. I am busy making sure everything is online, filed properly, and wrapped up like a little pastry in an upscale Madrid pastry shop when you are starving and that is all you can eat because you and your mother have had no luck ordering food that did not have watery canned tuna dumped on top of it. I am a few months behind, so I am catching up and getting ready to take it on the road.
If you are interested in hiring a jack of all trades, master of none, type girl Friday...let me know. My income is being cut in half as of May 15th.
Faithsalutes Cindy McCain for that yellow and turquoise ensemble on Jay Leno. Talk about sunshine! She bottled up the sun and three thousand peeps and made them into a fucking suit. She is cuter than Hilary and Michelle, though, hands down.
