Not Too Disappoint

I have finished, Chelsea Handler's, second novella, "Are You There, Vodka? It's Me Chelsea. Even funnier than the first. Thank you for not disappointing me, Chelsea. I knew I could count on you. I appreciate all the laughter you have brought into my life.

Experiment: Failure

I have decided the experiment is a failure due to the fact that I can not be in the mood all the time.

Experiment: Day 4

I missed day 3 due to "baby bear" being ill. By the end, of day two, I had completed another bedroom visitation with "lover". All is well. It seems to be true, I am much happier with my relationship and with myself. Could be a false positive. Research must continue. The things I do in the name of science.

My New Girlfriend

As a strong women, I seek out other strong women to complete my circle of peers. I will admit that this has kept me from having a real women hero, that I do not find bitchy and a tab bit pretentious. Mostly my female heroins have been fictitious. Either a character from a movie, T.V. show or a novel. Since, I had given up hope of ever having a real female heroin, one fell straight from the heavens and I just love her. Chelsea Handler, is a brilliant, witty, sexy female, whom I can admire, without guilt. I just finished, "My Horizontal Life". A riot of laughter roared from my mouth so many times while reading this piece of literary, comedic genius. I have watched her show on E!, "Chelsea, Lately", but the novel solidified the admiration I was feeling. I can not wait to read her other endeavor into literary works, so titled, "Are You There, Vodka? It's Me Chelsea". Let's see if she can stay atop that pedestal I have placed her upon.

Experiment: Day 2

After last evenings 45 minute roll in the hay, I feel wonderful. My lower back is a little achy but everything else seems fine. I thought of all the ways I could persuade my "lover" to meet me in the bedroom for round 2, this evening. I am giddy with all the ways this experiment can go.

"Lover" has to work this evening so I am unsure how to fit in the loving time, but I will attempt to make a connection.

Experiment:Day 1

On this lovely evening, I am feeling a bit randy. Mostly because I have been on the "Sexual DL" for the past three weeks. I do feel a bit fat, but, as I am a girl, that falls within the normal range (not to mention I just a salad as big as my face). Will report on sexual romp in the morning.

Side note: I must remember to report honestly and accurately...readers beware there may be graphic and lewd contents within future posts (if I am lucky, anyway).

Experiment and Question Everything

My recent vagina escapades, have raised many questions...you know how I love questions. Does having more sex make you a healthier person? Does having more sex with your significant other bring solidity to your relationship? Will anyone perform experiments to discover the truths behind these questions? Why, yes, yes they will. To be more exact, I will. I have decided to keep track of my sexual moods, needs and wants to derive the answer, to the aforementioned questions. I am unsure as how one sets up this experiment, but I recall from college physics that one must have a hypotheses to start. My hypotheses statement is, as follows; Do frequent sexual encounters solidify a relationship? The research will begin shortly.

Killer Chimps and the Common Man

I have this theory...since I am a perpetual B student, whether I study or not, I am going to assume that I retain about 80% of everything I have heard or seen (given that I was not drunk or stoned at the time). my theory is best explained with an example....someone asks how are chimpanzees closet related to the average homosapien..my response would be 1. thumbs, 2. brain usage, 3. use of tools, 4. class oriented, 5. motherly capabilities, etc...all of this i have retained from watching the discovery channel. If one should ask what are the two things you should not give a chimpanzee in captivity? i would respond with choclate milk and birthday cake, it makes the other chimps jealous and they will go on a killer rampage by ripping off your hands, feet and balls (if applicable). this was explained to me on an episode of 20/20. and my parents used to say..."you will never learn anything from television", what did they know?!

My Fellow Americans

Recently a lot of movies have been coming out involving racism and violence. I myself like these movies simply because I know the scenario to be true. My father is from Iran; some would say I am a "camel jockey". I sat at home and watched Crash and of course I cried like a baby. Not because it was terribly sad, but because I was so ashamed and angry. I do not usually look down upon people because you never really know a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes and since my shoes are all the uncomfortablity that I would like to suffer I choose to believe that people from all walks of life, have problems just like I do, no matter what their ethnicity happens to be. As I was saying, I felt ashamed and at moments I was relieved and my heart was filled with pride, but the majority of it, I was ashamed. You come away from the movie with an understanding of who racism actually hurts...EVERYONE. It makes the whites no smarter, the blacks no more endowed, the Mexicans no more inclined to privilege and the Asian no more better off. No one benefits. Not that any of the races mentioned above have told me this is their ailment with racism it is just for scenario’s purposes.I was always told that people are racist because it makes them feel powerful and the other weak. The power does not reside in the person doing the name-calling, it lives in the words. The power will always belong to no specific person, nor should it.I cannot make a judgment without putting my own feelings on the subject into perspective and I cannot fathom what another person of another race may go thru on a daily basis, but I can make an effort to not think in those terms.One thing I think of in a testing persective is...If you read about a crime out of a newspaper and no name was mentioned what color would you picture the person they were talking about? People like to say the word statistically,such as, most violent crimes are committed by African-Americans(I do not know if this is true so in converstion I would never say that) but in all actuality what that means is “in my mind”. In a thesis paper if you mentioned a statistic you better name your source or you will not end up with a very good grade. Unless you are willing to provide the statistics please, refrain from such statements. The other movie that really got to me was Hotel Rwanda. Throughout this movie I felt sick with shame. In one scene when all the “whites” were being evacuated, the character played by Joaquin Phoenix, says he feels so ashamed for leaving so many people behind to fight a losing battle. I feel that way on a daily basis. Americans will gladly go to another country to help them become a democratic nation, specifically Iraq. But when genocide is plaguing a nation, we evacuate. Maybe because there was no oil. Ok that was harsh! But still, instead of monitoring the democratic involvement of Iraq, why are we not in Africa helping with the AIDS epidemic, or the starving nations or anywhere that would not just benefit Americans, but benefit the human race? I get so angry when I look at a newspaper and on the front page is another death in Iraq and on page 10 is the headline…”One million more dead in Africa”. I am ashamed. I am ashamed of our treatment towards one another, our treatment towards other countries and basically Americans in general. Not to say that it is better anywhere else…..but maybe I should find out.

Big Puzzle of Memories

I noticed lately, that all my memories of past events are somehow linked to another fragment of a memory. When I was a young teenager, my family owned a van. The van was for the family vacation trips. On one such occasion the entire family, Mom, Dad, Sister and Brother all piled into the van for a cross-country trip to California to visit Nana. On this trip I discovered the art of marathon sleeping. I would wake up to eat, use the restroom and drag my sluggish body into the hotel to shower and return to sleep. The van also had a VCR in it (back before DVD players). My siblings would watch movies like Mac and Me or Super Mario Brothers while traveling to the far west.
The memory of the van is tied to a particularly funny memory of brother choking. I know, I know what a horrible thing for me to suggest is funny, but honestly, it was. My brother was located in the farthest to the back of the van. My sister and I were enjoying the 700th viewing of The Lady in White and all of a sudden my brother started kicking his little legs around. He was not speaking or screaming so of course, my sister and I thought he was just being his jack-ass self (we may or may not have known what a jack ass was). I yelled to my mother who was in the front passenger seat reading and she turned around and with a panic stricken voice said JOSH IS CHOKING. I honestly had never seen or since seen my mother maneuver her body so quickly. Before I knew it she was in the back of the van with her hand all the way down my brother throat. She was doing this scoop thing with her finger. She would reach to the back of his throat and try to scoop the butterscotch (the culprit) out his throat. It seemed to take several attempts, but on the final swipe she seemed to reach down to his stomach and pull that piece of candy out. My bro immediately started to wail. He cried and moaned and my mom coddled and petted. After about five minutes of this I made a simple request. In all my innocence I did not know that it was a bad thing to say but all in all I said it. It went something like this “mom, please put the piece of candy back in his throat so he will be quiet”. Again my mother moved with fervor I have not witnessed since and she slapped me across the face. Not hard just enough to scare me, but all the same, she slapped me.
This memory is immediately attached to a memory of being in Nana’s gardens in Cali, picking up snails, naming them and then letting Nana step on them. She said there were to many snails in California!