delara, interrupted

Sometimes, as I drive to work, I dream about what torturous consequences I would like to inflict upon the myriad drivers who make my morning commute, shall we say, hell. Diabolical? Macabre? Wrong? Perhaps. But it is what it is, so allow me my delusions of grandeur for a moment.

It is clear I have watched *way* too many James Bond movies. For example, after the 5th person cut me off this morning, I imagined two heavily armed machine guns popping up out from the left and right side of my front hood and shooting out the tires of the car in front of me. Then, as I was contending with yet another slow driver in the left lane on the highway, I envisioned having jet propulsion packs flip out from under my back fender, and as I slide my goggles down from my head onto my face and gallantly toss my scarf to one side, the jets would flare and my car would blast right over the 6 cars in front of me, dropping green goo on each car as I fly over.

Road rage? I think not. More like, creative driving. Ha!

Posted by Delara at 04:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Ah yes. The Canadian in me comes out every now and again. But I digress...

Check out Wendy's new book, I'm Not the New Me, as well as this great review of the book on Gaper's Block. Just a small example of how a little-known writer can become a published well-known writer in such a short period of time.

I am continually inspired by instances of people following their talents, skills, interests, passions, etc., and being able to do it well and even possibly make a living doing the very thing they love.

I so love that.

In the meantime, I'll just do some downward-facing dog and triangle poses in yoga class to deal with the fact that I have yet to fully commit to a path of work that I absolutely love. I have yet to discover it, in fact.

Posted by Delara at 08:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I unearthed a few "old school" mix tapes the other day while looking for something in the attic. That's right - TAPES. As in, you-can-hear-all-the-analog-static-in-the-background tapes, and oh-my-goodness-you-have-to-turn-it-over-to-hear-side-2 tapes. I was quite the mixmaster in high school and college apparently.

But I digress. I have had the *best* time listening to these golden oldies during the past week, especially at work while we assembled desks and moved file cabinets. What I have noticed, though, is how utterly ridiculous lyrics were in the 80s. (as if they are so magical now... not.) And... how infused with sexuality the lyrics were. Wow. Specifically, the following songs made me take notice this morning:

Master and Servant (Depeche Mode)
I Want Your Sex (George Michael)
I'm Looking for a New Love (Jodi Watley)
Relax (Frankie Goes to Hollywood)
She Bop (Cyndi Lauper)
Just a Gigilo (David Lee Roth)
Private Dancer (Tina Turner)
Boom Boom Boom (Paul Lekakis)

How sex-crazed were we that we loved these songs and sang them all the time?? Wow.

So, I have "Boom Boom Boom" stuck in my head now. Sigh. I guess we know what I want for my birthday...

A new 80s compilation!!

Hey! What were you thinking I want? He he.

Posted by Delara at 10:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

As my birthday approaches each year, I slip into a funk. Not because I dread getting older - actually, I enjoy the aging process. Not so much the physical side effects, mind you. A slowing metabolism is hard to fight. But I like knowing that I've lived yet another year, and that most of it has been quite wonderful. I like aging in that way. But it's not about the age. The funk is more about discovering "what I want to do when I grow up," and although I've been growing up every minute of every day of my life, I still don't know the answer. And that frustrates me. And the daily routine of life is just too hectic to allow enough space and silence to adequately reflect on this.

Hence, the funk.

I think it also has to do with the "list" - you know, that list that everyone has of "what I want to accomplish by the time I turn (insert arbitrary age here)" or "things I have to do before I die." I think I had a list at some point, but these days my life and the time that ticks away each day is so focused on the here and now (which has its advantages too - I enjoy every moment of the good times and completely soak them up!) that I seem to not be able to lift my chin to view the horizon ahead. My neck is sore, in fact.

Today at brunch (yes, I have the COOLEST staff in the whole world - they take me to *brunch* for my birthday, not just lunch) Liz asked me, "So what do you want to make sure you do for your birthday?" And I honestly had no answer. And that kind of made me feel sad. What do I mean I don't konw what I want to make sure I do? A picnic by the lake? A trip to the day spa? Time with friends and family? Ice skating? Climb Mt. Everest? WHAT DO I WANT TO DO???

So, I get quiet. And pensive. And perhaps a bit negative, which I don't mean to be. (Sorry, y'all.) And all I want to do is sit at the top of a mountain far, far away and just be, hoping that some moment of inspiration will spark a glimpse of the path ahead and will reveal to me what I want to do.

But all everyone else wants to do is party. And I'm ok with that too - celebrating is good. In fact, it's a damn good mood elevator. And a great way to distract oneself from the reality of not knowing what she wants to do when she grows up.

There you have it. That's the funk. Large and in charge. Sigh...

Posted by Delara at 09:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I love where I work. I love the people where I work. I love that I can walk into the office in the morning and be greeted by a conversation that completely revolves around the fact that September 19 is "speak like a pirate" day and we plan to commemorate it!

Posted by Delara at 10:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

the baby buds on the trees, just poking their heads out for the first time since winter covered the branches with snow

greater amounts of sunlight each day, leading up to the summer solstice

the possibility of choosing to wear open-toed shoes

people walking around (freezing) in shorts because "it's April, for goodness sake - we ought to be wearing shorts!"

eating ice cream - well, soy ice cream or sorbet for me

Posted by Delara at 09:24 PM | Permalink

1. paper cuts
2. physical exhaustion
3. recycling paper
4. removing staples
5. being completely amused by what we have kept in our files for YEARS and YEARS

Posted by Delara at 03:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Emerging themes of the week:

1. cleaning
2. filing
3. cleaning the files
4. paint fumes
5. nap time for lacey
6. office furniture
7. emptying boxes
8. filling boxes
9. moving boxes
10. (and best of all...) feeling so tired you get slap-happy and joke about things like the evacuation chair closet

Yeah. Good times.

Posted by Delara at 11:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Movies that one ought never waste time watching, in no particular order:

1. Blue Lagoon
2. Endless Love
3. Nurse Betty
4. Super Troopers
5. Baseketball
6. Jaws 3D
7. Anything with Steven Seagal
8. Showgirls
9. Glitter (and anything else w. Mariah Carey)
10. Howard the Duck
(and just for good measure, let's add another:)
11. Dude, Where's My Car?

Dude - where are the great filmmakers!??

Posted by Delara at 11:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Mitch Hedberg, who apparently died yesterday. (No April Fool's joke here.) And I'm weirded out by it for some reason, despite the fact that death generally doesn't faze me. I just feel sad that he died so young.

I had called my brizzo Farren last night coming home from the Pickenses (after having eaten a delicious salmon, potato and asparagus dinner - yummmm!), and as I arrived at home there was a little gift waiting for me from my awesome bro - just a little somethin' somethin' that included, of all things, Mitch's CD/DVD set "Mitch All Together." A super sweet gift since he KNOWS how much I LOVE Mitch's humor. (Recall that I got to see him perform at Zanies last month?) But then... Farren shared that he heard news Mitch had died. And then I was just sad.

So, in honor of Mitch...

"Last week I helped my friend stay put. It's a lot easier than helping someone move. I just went over to his house and made sure he did not load s**t into a truck."

"My sister always wanted to be an actress. She lives in a trailer, so I guess she made it half-way. She just never shows up at the set."

"On a traffic light, green means go and yellow means yield. But on a banana, it's just the opposite. Green means hold on, yellow means go ahead, and red means where the f**k did you get that banana at?"

"I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it."

Encore.

Posted by Delara at 10:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)