Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Another sweet horoscope

You are always smart enough to be careful in business deals, but how careful have you been in romantic negotiations? Past pain could have been caused by careless generosity, so if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt again in the future, go slower. A new person is an exciting thing, but what's your hurry? They are interested -- and they are not going anywhere unless you tell them to. Don't give them only green lights when yellow would be much more appropriate (for now).

Monday, February 18, 2008

Best. Onion. Story. Ever.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Everybody wants my money

Let's see, a few people have told me that Yahoo personals is free. Nope, sorry, try again. I can send free "ice breakers" but if I want to send an e-mail, I have to subscribe. Just like Match. WTF? I already have e-mail with Yahoo! Why must I pay? Yahoo, I've been so loyal, for almost 10 years! I haven't left you for Gmail! Give a girl a break!

On an unrelated note, I'm thinking of going back to LiveJournal. I really liked all of LJ's features and only switched because all the cool kids were doing it. I hear Wordpress has cool additional features, though I don't know what those are. Anyway, I'll need to investigate the current state of LJ, since SixApart was sold a few months ago, or split, or something.

The sound of silence

Apparently, I don't want to go home.

Why?

Beats me.

IT's 3:57 a.m. I should be asleep.

On Tuesday, I didn't fall asleep until 9 a.m. Wednesday.

Maybe I should keep Saturday off.

Can I get some answers, please? Not only from the question above, but life answers. Like those I've asked in previous blogs, and those many, many questions rolling about in my head.

Damn.

Fuck.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

I'm an American typewriter. You?

Typecast Yourself!

Tell me your type.

Folo on Cupid

No, that's not a typo. In journalism, it's cq for follow-up.

Anyway...

Well, I was going to post a link to the FLAT story about an "incident" from late Friday (technically Saturday). This could be what kept the boy in Downtown, but doesn't explain why he Still. Hasn't. Called. And. Today is. Thursday.

In brief, a man was beaten in the parking lot near the place where the boy said he was. He said his car was in the parking lot. This man was beaten up some time after his third drink at the bar, and possibly because he's gay.

I know. It doesn't explain anything. In fact, it raises questions, and maybe red flags.

Reading the story was tough. It made me so angry; this man did not deserve this. No person does. The cop said the man was bleeding so heavily, it seemed that he had been shot. All, possibly, because of the man's sexual orientation.

Another thing that angers me: I asked the reporter on Saturday what happened. "We don't have a record of anything. If we did, I'd follow it up, trust me." This reporter is a friend. And this story, in tomorrow's paper, is the first we've covered on this story that I've known about since late Friday night. Looking at it that way, I'm greatly bothered that we dropped the ball. My boss said Metro has been told the cops reporters do a crappy job, and Metro doesn't change. Metro doesn't care.

How can we be taken seriously when we can't do what are considered basic stories? The cops beat is typically the first rung on the reporting ladder. Maybe it shouldn't be, with all the liability from libel, but it is. And we don't care about it.

I should not have worked on V-day.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Cupid misses yet again

My new friend is out. I have no idea what happened. He was supposed to visit after work Saturday. I still haven't heard from him. Apparently, there was a crime scene (that wasn't in the paper) and his car was stuck. What. Ever. (Yes, of course I've already checked the jail log. And checked with the weekend reporters about "incidents.")

I don't care for V-day anyway. I've been burned on that day in the past, and also later had redeeming holidays filled with love and sweetness. And then those relationships ended, too, so the day goes back to bittersweet memories of this guy's dinner or that guy's flowers. I'm over it. No sense in spending so much on candy and flowers that will be half-price on the 15th.

Besides, it's my dad's birthday.

So no cards, hearts, ribbons, lace, chocolates. Although I've thought about bringing goodies for the desk to enjoy ... Not before the 15th, for sure.

All this and I still dream of flowers on my desk from a secret admirer. Damn romantic heart.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

I want to know if love is wild, girl, I want to know if love is real

Today, I was a Giants fan. It went against one of my rules: cheer for the Jags' conference team (AFC = Patriots). But the Giants were the underdogs and Coughlin is the Jags' former coach. And my new friend loves the Giants. And I think all my NY cousins do, too, since my mom was a Giants fan today. Offense didn't wake up until the last five minutes, but they got it done. Hell yeah.

Lots going on lately. Boy oh. I met five boys in three days. What? It took five months to meet two boys when I first moved. There's some serious possibility in there, too. Crazy feelings I didn't think were possible. Maybe my luck did turn with bowling.

Here's a sweet song I just discovered. Sweet as in awesome. By Third Eye Blind:

MOTORCYCLE DRIVE BY

Summer time and the wind is blowing outside in lower Chelsea.
And I don't know what I'm doing in this city,
The sun is always in my eyes,
It crashes through the windows, And I'm sleeping on the couch,
When I came to visit you,
That's when I knew, That I could never have you,
I knew that before you did,
Still I'm the one who's stupid,
And there's this burning, Like there's always been,
I've never been so alone, And I've never been so alive.
Visions of you on a motorcycle drive by,
The cigarette ash flies in your eyes, And you don't mind,
you smile,
And say the world doesn't fit with you.
I don't believe you, You're so serene.
Careening through the universe, Your axis on a tilt, You're guiltless and free,
I hope you take a piece of me with you,
And there's things I would like to do that you don't believe in,
I would like to build something, Buy you'll never going see it happen,
And there's this burning, Like there's always been,
I've never been so alone, And I've,
I've never been so alive,

And there's this burning, There is this burning ay ay ay.
Where's the soul. I want to know, New York City is evil.
The surface is everything, but I could never do that,
Someone would see through that.
And this is the last time, We'll be friends again.
I'll get over you, you'll wonder, who I am.
And there's this burning, Just like there's always been,
I've never been so alone, alone, alive, alive, I've never been so alive, so alive

I go home to the coast. It starts to rain, I paddle out on the water alone,
Taste the salt and taste the pain. I'm not thinking of you again,
Summer dies and swells rise,
The sun goes down in my eyes,
See this rolling wave,
Darkly coming to take me home,

And I never been so alone, And I've never been so alive.