gamo*phi parade

Huh?

Someone get me some Lithium...quick! I swear...sometimes I think I'm bipolar. One minute I'm so annoyed and frustrated, huffing and puffing, and the next I'm running around, uncontrolably, laughing my ass off. What's going on? Who am I? Where am I? Ok...maybe I'm not bipolar, but rather it's just my ADD acting up...or maybe I'm just moody. Who knows what's going on...I just might be the most subtle moodiest person you'll meet.

On to more important things...is anybody watching this game right now? Top of the 2nd...6 to 4, Red Sox....they're blowing the Yankees out of the water! I hate the Yankees...they are the Nazis of baseball. Go Sox!!!

I love this girl!

The end.

Family Asshole Moment of the Weekend

I am an asshole. It's football season, which, by my standards, means it's beer season. Once upon a time (Saturday) I was at a USC football game, drinking the time away. Three and a half beers later (I'm a lightweight too), my sister Robee called me. It started something like this:

Me: Heeeeyyy!!!
Robee: Hi Moll. Whatcha doin?
Me: I'm at the SC football game! Wooooo!
Robee: (chuckle) Ooh...sounds like you're having fun...
Me: I am!!! Wooooo! Fight on!!! What's going on??!!!

At this point we were heading towards the Colliseum. We then ran into these lovely people who were selling beers (Coronas) for a dollar each. I got so excited and started talking to these wonderful folks and hung up on my sister...not necessarily deliberately but involuntarily...the beer took over me. I blame the booze. Asshole. Yeah, so she called me again but got my voicemail and left a message pouting: "You hung up on me..." Yeah, I know. Asshole.

So then I called her back later that night and apologized for my inebriated behavior. She said it was okay and she wasn't mad..."Well, you were gonna be the first to know, but now you're the last. Yeah, well, so I'm pregnant." Asshole of the year. How awful is that? I know. I'm a terrible sister. There's no denying that. But back to the real news! She's preggers! Whoa! She told me in disbelief about how when she told my other sister Myleen, Myleen threatened her by saying, "You better have a girl!"...in which case, I joined right in and said, "uhh, yeah!" I know this is a really sad/low incident on my behalf but think about the great story it will make, especially when I tell her daughter when she's like 16. She'll so appreciate it. Awesome.

I realize maybe I shouldn't tell about my sister's condition on the gamo*phi parade because not everybody knows...but I am fairly confident that nobody reads this anyway. Eh. It's exciting news and I'm an asshole.

Errr!

Who the fuck sent out the memo last night saying "Tomorrow, let's ask Mollie to give us the world!!" Not only do they just want the world, but they want it in a fucking hand basket.

Today's Highlight

You know those times when you're speaking and for some unexplicable reason you mumble jumble your words and you end up saying something stupid like I love you...whoops, no, sorry...love that song...I mean you end up saying something stupid like "batadase" instead of "database"...or sometimes you won't fully enunciate the word and so it'll come out as "skip" instead of "script". Yeah, like that. Usually, you catch yourself as you're saying it and you immediately correct yourself and move on with what you're saying...

Well, today, we were listening to Captain Cardio's* voicemail on speaker and the woman leaving the message was talking about returning scripts to us. She wanted to give us the titles, and so she did..."I have Last First Clit - Kiss...(pause that seemed to last an eternity)...and...(another pause)...Closer...(yet another long pause)...so just give me a call (spoken slowly and uncertain)"...yada yada yada. Yeah. Captain Cardio and I looked at each other and just busted out laughing. Did we hear right? Oh yes. I can just picture her eyes growing wide with realization of what she just said. Let me insert some mind dialogue in those ever so awkward pauses. "I have Last First Clit - Kiss...(fuzz! what did I just say?! pretend it didn't happen, pretend you didn't say anything)...and...(just keep going, you can do it, keep talking)...Closer...(just get off the phone now, now, now!)...so just give me a call (spoken slowly and uncertain)"...yada yada yada. Hahahaha! Maybe I'm extremely juvenile, maybe I'm 16, but c'mon. It was funny. It still makes me laugh now. You don't get a mistake like this very often. This definitely made my day.

*Obviously not her/his real name...but right, who else would this be?

Full Circle

It's been about a year now since I started the gamo*phi parade, originally called woo woo gamo*phi. Those of you hardcore fans will remember a brief half day when it was called gamo*phi chatter. (Right, like I have hardcore fans...) It's amazing how time flies. Once again, Halloween is just around the corner and, as usual, I have no idea what I'm going to dress up as. There's so much pressure on having the perfect costume. If I'm going to dress up, I want it to be good...none of that "I'm an alien from Earth" bullshit. I've been able to brainstorm a few ideas, but nothing has been decided a must. I just need to do some mad Halloween window shopping...it'll help me get some ideas. I've been thinking I really want to wear an eye patch with my costume. I could be a candy and cigarettes girl, but with an patch! How boss would that be?! I think an eye patch is key. My only concern is...what if I get a lazy eye from wearing that patch all weekend long? That could be really bad. Then I'll be like Lucy Liu. Oh no! I might have to rethink the whole eye patch thing.

Follow up

Okay. So I bought 2 movies: The Station Agent and High Art. If you haven't seen either of them, I highly recommend them. I can now breathe. Aaah.

Eeee!

I have a problem. Okay, okay. Duh. I have an URGENT problem. It's been 17 days since my last materialistic purchase. Eeee! I can't handle it! (In case you couldn't tell, that was my desperate anxiety-driven cry to get my fill.) For the past week or so, I've sat at my sad little cube with clenched fists trying to stop myself from visiting ae.com, zappos.com, amazon.com and other sites of the like. But this has got to stop. I can't do this anymore. Come lunch time, I'm going to regain control of my life. I'm going to Best Buy. What am I going to buy? Don't know and don't care. I just need to buy something...anything. I realize this is a problem...I just need to spend money. I'm addicted to it. I think I need to go to an SA meeting. Maybe it'll help. I hardly work, I mean, I work hard for my money and all I do is waste it away on mindless crap. Is there even such thing as a support group for this? Oooh. I should find out. It could be a lot of fun. Maybe I can get a shopping buddy out of the whole thing!

Ugh

"_____ is the bane of my existence."

Those qualified to fill in the above blank are:

• Ironing
• Refilling the Xerox machine with paper
• Filing newspapers
• Taking out the trash
• Being forced to listen to other people's conversations (I'm aboot at the point where I can ignore them now)
• Taping receipts
• Hemming pants

I know there are more things to be added to this list, but in my annoyed state of mind, this is all I can think of right now.

I just can't let it go...

Someone jokingly just said that they had a dream about me. I don't like this. I don't like not having control over whose dreams I pop into...or even worse...not having control over what I do in these dreams. I'm uncomfortable with this. For instance...someone who used to work here had a dream that a certain someone was "pleasing" (mind you, this is a family blog) another certain someone in the copy room. Gross. See what I mean? What if someone had a dream like that about me? I don't want to be you-know-what on someone I don't like! Now I'm paranoid. I know I've had those dreams that seem really great while they're happening, but then I wake up and I'm a little uncomfortable with what I dreamt of. Then there's the whole one-sided awkwardness when you next see that person. The more I think about this, the more disconcerting it is. And it doesn't always have to be on a sexual level. If someone had a dream that I went bowling with them, I'd be so mad! I HATE bowling! Bowling sucks. I don't want someone to make me do something I hate or something that completely goes against who I am...like eating meat or wearing heels or something random like that. Dreams are so strange. They seem to tap into some inner-psyche that we normally don't access on an everyday level. Sometimes they make easy logical sense and sometimes they don't. They take all that we are thinking about, and mix 'em up into some kind of tossed salad of a dream. I know this is silly, but I can't help but be paranoid and obsess over it.

Encounters of the Dream Kind

I know I'm obsessive...and I know I obsess over the fact that I'm obsessive. I know. I can't help it. It's just my nature. I obsess over anything and everything. I obsess over shoes. I obsess over the order of my icons on my taskbar. I obsess over my blog, over my nails, over great musicians like Jill Sobule. I realize that in obsessively obsessing over people on the gamo*phi parade, I am pinning myself a "fan"...and I mean that in the worst sense of the word. But I don't care.

Last night I had a very bizarre dream. My sister and I needed to get haircuts and we wanted to go to the best of the best. Well, in my dream I had heard from someone that Jill Sobule gives really great haircuts and that she's the new pink in the stylist world. So, naturally, we went over to her house. It was a small, poorly lit, dank-like place. The house was filled with tchotchke...the most random shit ever. There were Care Bears, Rainbow Brites, stuffed animals...junk, just plain junk. You would have thought a crazy old woman lived there. It was really weird. But one of the cool things was that she had guitars everywhere...all kinds (but no pink one). Jill was super nice to us and said I could play any of them while I waited for her to do my sister's hair. I was really nervous...it was Jill Sobule! I was at her house! I heart Jill Sobule! (Is this dream a little stalkerish?) She gave my sister a cute little bob. It was my turn and I was telling her I just needed my hair reshaped because it had been growing out since my last cut and was a little uneven. She started to get really into it...spazzing out and showing me what she wanted to do with my hair...and then I woke up. Doh. It was soo weird...but soo cool! Dreams with famous people are always fun. But I sometimes think it's strange how I can conjure up a whole relationship or encounter with someone I don't really know...an experience that seems so real in my dreams that I second guess it the second I wake up. Ooh. I doubt Jill would appreciate knowing that she shows up in people's dreams all the time. Now I feel a little uncomfortable. Dreams are weird.

Charge It!

In my seemingly deliberate quest to jack up each month's credit card bill, I am currently mulling over my next big purchase. I want to buy a guitar: either a pink acoustic, or a Baby Taylor. I am addicted to shopping and a guitar seems to be next on my list of things to waste my money on. I know I already have a guitar...I would never get rid of it...it's got sentimental value...but can't a girl have two guitars? Would that be so bad? I know objectively I don't need another guitar, but I want one. My defense is that I'm not getting the same thing as what I already have. I'd want a Baby Taylor because, first of all, they're nice guitars, and second, because it would be much easier to play than mine. But then again, it would be soo cool and soo much fun to have a pink guitar! How can Lisa Loeb turn me down when she sees my guitar is pink?