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  • Silvertree

    Mod post: No wishlist posts in blogs

    By Silvertree

    Please be aware that we do not permit swap-related content on profiles or in blogs. Please post this content only in the For Sale, Swaps, and Wanted forums, or in the Wishlists topic. ~from Swapping 101  Thanks!
    • 5 comments
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Sourball Ho!
 

Defending Your Life

valentina's post got me pawing through the laserdiscs and DVDs for favorite movies in general, and I must babble about Defending Your Life. Albert Brooks wrote, directed and starred in a movie all about what happens after you die. It's a mix of Occidental/Western religion and Buddhism with some bureaucracy thrown in, because we all love that! Woo!   While I don't like everything Albert Brooks does, he's so dry and smart in this one plus it makes you think for days afterward (or years, but I'm slow ). The premise is after you die, you go to Judgment City and you have to "defend your life," and here on Earth we have to prove we weren't conquered by fear so we can move on to the next level. You're assigned a defense attorney and during your trial you're shown scenes from your life and the attorneys argue before a couple of Gods/judges about whether you faced your fears.   One scene is when he's 10 or so and is confronted by a bully at school, and he backs out of a fight. The prosecutor said he was afraid -- getting hurt, looking foolish -- while the defender argues that "he wasn't afraid, he was showing restraint!" Hee!   So what's my fear? Number one is probably not being able to to support myself -- living on the street, no money or security, where every person is a potential predator and enemy. So am I facing my fear, by working and trying to save, or just avoiding it?   *Edited for spelling, duh
dawndie

dawndie

1
Diplomatka
 

I Survived the Kabul Riots of '06 part 2

The next day (today) was the day of reckoning. Today I had to go and see for myself just what had happened. I choked down some Nescafe and went to my office. It was like a scene out of a war movie. The entire building was burned; the roof had caved in and there was the smell of an electrical fire in the air. I walked around to the side of my office and saw that it was still smoldering. There were papers and parts of computers scattered all over the ground. A few Afghan colleagues came up with sad faces and put their arms around me. I started to cry. It was so sad, all of the things that we do to help people in this country and this is what happens.   After the office visit, it was time to survey the house. A crowd of neighbors watched us drive up and walk through the gate. It was a complete mess. The windows were broken, there were chocolate chips smashed into the carpet, cans thrown around, furniture broken. The pearl necklace my parents gave me for my birthday was gone, but luckily my diamonds were still there. They had taken everything out of the cabinets and closets and turned them over. They stole mine and my husband’s shoes, our DVDs, our laptop, two digital cameras, two DVD players, two TVs, an iron, two satellite receivers and dishes and an external hard drive. I was so mad. It wasn’t as bad as I had imagined, but it was still terrible.   We cleaned up what we could and decided to never stay in that house again. I guess this is what it feels like to be robbed—you just feel so violated. I came back to the guesthouse and that’s where I am writing from now.   This is the official news of what happened:   Police sources have reported the following detail regarding the civil disturbances in Kabul on the 29 May 06.   The initial RTA involved 22 vehicles, several of which were overloaded buses. Six persons were killed as a result of the RTA and a further 5 were killed in SAF that immediately followed.   A total of 300 individuals were detained during the disturbances, of these 92 remain in custody. ANP claim that 12 of these persons were 'ringleaders' and 3 of them were armed at the time of there arrest.   NDS state that they arrested 6 Pakistani males in the Karte Char area (PD3). The individuals are believed to have been rioting in the area and were in possession of combustibles at the time of their arrest.   So far today the city has remained calm, a planned demonstration at the Kabul University has been dispersed through negotiation between ANP and rally leaders. A second demonstration in the vicinity of the Serena hotel has also been dispersed.   The immediate area of Sarae Shamali (RTA location) has been sealed of by a large number of Afghan Security forces in order to prevent any demonstrations in the area.   A curfew will be in place tonight 2200-0400hrs. Any persons stopped after this time will be detained at an ANP station until the reason they have broken the curfew is ascertained.   There are a lot of stories from my ten colleagues who stayed behind to fight. More on those in the next few days.
Confection

Confection

4
Diplomatka
 

I Survived the Kabul Riots of '06! part 1

I picked the wrong day to wear my sandals with four-inch heels.   Yesterday started out like any other: I went to work at 7:15, had meetings until 10:00 and then left the office to go four blocks to another meeting on gender issues. On the way out of the office, I saw three German ISAF (International Security Assistance Force) tanks moving down the road away from the Hanzalla Mosque in the direction of Taimani street. While an odd sight, I didn’t think anything of it.   I got to my meeting at the Agency Coordinating Body for Afghan Relief and proceeded to totally walk all over the condescending Afghan man holding the meeting (hence the four-inch heels, if you are going to railroad someone you need to wear stylish shoes). Basically, this guy wants to merge meetings on gender in the Afghanistan Development Strategy with meetings on programmatic gender issues which I oppose because in the past he was in charge of the meetings and nothing got done. When I got up to explain my position he acted like I shot his dog and then tried to ignore everything I had to say.   At 10:20 the phone rang, it was my husband but I didn’t answer because I was in the meeting. A few minutes afterward, I got a message from him that read: “I was told to stay inside rogur in streets because of car accident”. I had no idea what “rogur” meant so I sent back the message, “what?” but it didn’t send. I didn’t know it, but the network was overloaded which is what happens in Afghanistan when there is a bombing or kidnapping. At 10:40 someone at the meeting from Counterpart received a call that there were riots (aka "rogur") and that we needed to either leave for our offices or stay there. I called a car.   While waiting for the car I tried to call my husband but kept getting the “network busy” sign. As I got into the car, I asked Fraidoon, the driver, what was going on. He said that there had been a car accident with American troops and some people were killed. On the way back to the office I got a hold of my husband, “Where are you?” he demanded. I told him I was on my way back to the office. He said that there was a mob moving up Taimani street (the street my house is on, by the way) and to stay at the office.   When I arrived at my office, I went to talk to some of the people who were leaving from an earlier meeting I had left to go to ACBAR. I asked what was going on and they said 30 people were dead. The Americans shot at a group of people in Sarai Shomali (a place at the end of Taimani street where I buy plants and flowers) and the group decided to take the demonstration to the Parliament, the Ministries and any international group they could find.   I searched out our security guy—he was a mujahadeen back in the day—he acted totally nonchalant and told me to stay at the office, that it would pass. Besides, the group was far away. I turned on my four-inch heel with a “I am going home, I don’t know about y’all” and walked to my office to get my laptop. My husband called again and told me to get out of my office and come to his office across the street. “There are armed guards,” he reasoned, “you will be safe here”. I gathered my things and left my office for what would be the last time. At the door, a group of staff from Administration asked where I was going and a coworker urged me to go to her house. They told me not to go to my house on Taimani. The protesters were coming that way. I went to my husband’s office to wait.   At about 11:45 the shots started. We heard shouting and it sounded like there was gunfire coming from all directions. I kept searching google news to try to find out what was going on. There was an intense firefight around the corner. We thought it was DynCorp (big security firm with a bad rep among Afghans) but we found out later it was at the German Embassy. I stole looks out the window of my husband’s office. I tried calling everyone I knew, but AWCC, one of the only two mobile service providers in Afghanistan, was down. I tried to call my boss who was at the American Embassy when everything happened, but I found out later he was on “lockdown” in a secure place in the center of the Embassy and could not answer his phone. I called over the radio to let my organization know that I was OK. I heard a barely audible response—something about bombs and fire at my office. I tried to call two of my coworkers who live together to make sure they were safe at home but they both had AWCC phones. I called over the hand-held radio and got a short response from a woman I work with: “radio about to die”. I tried calling again over the next few hours but there was no response.   At 12:30 my husband and I joined his coworkers for lunch at the guesthouse adjoining his office. About ten minutes later we heard shouting and chanting and then loud booms against the side of the building. The crowd, taking advantage of a construction site across the street, was throwing rocks. One of the Afghan women who was there collapsed on the floor and started moaning and screaming. She obviously was terrified by the noise which brought back memories of past conflicts.   Once the group passed, we went upstairs to inspect the damage. A few broken windows, but that was about it. We went back to my husband’s office to wait. During this time, I was emailing my other boss who is in Bangkok at a workshop. Her partner (who is still in Kabul) had sent her an email saying that our office had been breached. I went out on the balcony to see what was happening. There was white smoke coming from the direction of my office building. My husband and I went back inside where it was safe and heard gunshots and explosions and saw people running from that direction.   I called my boss in Kabul and was able to get through. I told him what I knew and he said he would try to get in contact with the people still at the office over the radio. He said that quite a few organizations had their offices burned: IOM, UNOPS and a few guesthouses as well. There was smoke visible in different parts of the city. It seemed like there was shouting, gunfire and smoke everywhere I looked.   At 3:00, a former colleague of mine who just moved to Kabul called. “Your office is on fire and it’s on Yahoo news!” she yelled, with a little too much glee in her voice. I quickly got online and pulled up the slideshow she was referring to. There it was, my office, in flames. The crowd had looted it and set the computers and files in the middle of the street and set them on fire. The loud explosions we had heard earlier were gas cylinders in the kitchen being set alight. I started to cry. Then I saw something on the slideshow even more upsetting: houses were being looted. I panicked. At 4:00 one of the drivers from my husband’s organization agreed to take an unmarked taxi (all of his organization’s cars are marked with company tags) to the house to see what was going on. 30 minutes later he returned with the bad news: our house had been looted. They took the TVs, DVD players, satellite dishes and our laptop into the street and burned them. Nothing was left but the carpet, he said.   At this point the stress level was so high I was not sure how I could handle it. My husband, trying to find out as much as possible, sent the driver back with a camera because we were not allowed to leave the compound. He brought back the camera and we finally got to see how bad it was. Everything was turned over and smashed. They broke the windows, the dumped out our clothes, they broke dishes; everything was messed up. Then I realized I did not have my passport. It was in the living room at home. There was nothing to do, I got a drink.   I continued to check CNN and BBC to try to find out what was going on. There, on the front page, was a specific reference to my organization’s offices being burned down. I decided to call my parents because if they saw this and didn’t hear from me they would have assumed the worst. I told my mom all about the office and my house but told her not to worry. She laughed sarcastically. She was glad that I called, though, and I promised to keep her posted.   The person at my organization who manages the houses called and told me they would secure the house. I asked him to look for my passport and for my husband’s. He said that the group who looted the house tried to set it on fire but a neighbor intervened. Things could have been worse, I decided.   My husband’s organization gave us a room at the guesthouse for the night. I had a few more gin and tonics, all the while getting phone calls from friends and colleagues to ask if we were OK. Right before falling asleep, the guy at my house called to report that he had found our passports. I went to bed about 9, but woke up at 2 and could not go back to sleep. I kept wondering what had been taken, what did they want, how did this happen, and what could I have done to have prevented it. Without any sleeping pills at my disposal, I went downstairs to try to get my hands on some chamomile tea but the closest thing available was Horlicks (which is really gross and is non-narcotic so I am not really sure about all of those sleep-inducing claims). I went into the kitchen and struck gold: NyQuil. I knocked back a shot and went back upstairs. My husband was in the bathroom puking from all the stress.
Confection

Confection

0
Do you have a flag?
 

Entire GC Swap Reviews - Kakiphony Package #2

Cross-posting to Reviews forum and my LJ journal.   I got the second package from kakiphony, which incldues Leanan Sidhe, Neo-Tokyo, Obatala, Tweedledee, and Vixen. Here are my reviews.   Leanan Sidhe - Her perfume is a crush of Irish herbs and flowers, Gaelic mists, and nighttime dew. While the scent is strong, it's quite herby and green. Reminds me of Irish Spring soap and dryer sheets. It smells bright, clean, and fresh. It ends up (after an hour or two) smelling like a faint green floral. So when it's strong it's herby, and when it's faint it's floral. Interesting.   Neo-Tokyo - Urban metallics and an ozone-tinged breath of electric light mingled with reedy bamboo, crisp mountain air, cherry blossoms, delicate orchid and a splash of playful, wet fruits. Smells mostly aquatic to me, but sweet too. The florals are modest and not overly strong. This oil smells cute. I like it, and might get an imp of my own. Probably not a bottle though.   Obatala - Obatala’s ofrenda is soft, white and pure: milk, coconut meat, shea butter and cool, refreshing water. It's funny, I remember reviewing this when I first got the imp -- I thought the coconut had a suntan lotion smell and I didn't like it. This time I thought it would be different because it started out as a creamy, dark coconut. But after about 30 minutes, that suntan lotion scent I remembered was back. So... this one's still a "no" for me.   Tweedledee - Ridiculous! Kumquat, white pepper, white tea and orange blossom. At first, pepper. But that was for about three seconds. Then a very bright and juicy fruit scent came up quick and shared the spotlight with pepper and tea. I thought it was an odd scent, and a little jarring. I sniffed it again 15 minutes later and that weird discordant pepper note was gone -- it's mostly just bright fruit. This is an interesting scent, but I don't imagine I'd ever reach for this imp instead of other ones that I truly love.   Vixen - Lascivious, flirtatious, and vampy as hell. A true heartbreaker’s perfume. The innocence of orange blossom tainted by the beguiling scents of ginger and patchouli. Vixen reminds me quite a lot of Dior's Poison, which was my signature scent throughout college -- but it's better. It smells exactly like the description says it does. It's been on my list of favorites since the beginning and I expect it always will be. Vixen was one of the first BPAL oils I tried, and now whenever I smell it I am transported back in time to that evening, when I was in total awe that anything could ever smell that good. There's nothing quite like BPAL newbieness, and Vixen brings it back to me.
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

0
Do you have a flag?
 

Entire GC Swap Reviews - Kakiphony Package #1

Cross-posting to Reviews forum and my LJ journal.   I got the first package from kakiphony, which incldues Ave Maria Gratia Plena, Hymn to Propserine, Jazz Funeral, Jolly Roger, and Juke Joint. Here are my reviews.   Ave Maria Gratia Plena - Rosewood with Sicilian lemon peel, red Mysore sandalwood, pale musks, sweet mountain sage and a dusting of lily, night-blooming jasmine and orris. At first this smells mainly like lemon, but that fades into a strong floral. I can't really smell any sandalwood, which is too bad. I think there's some musk under there, but the florals are so strong I can't really tell much. I do think this is pretty, but it's not my style. Too floral for me. Lots of throw, and pretty strong.   Hymn to Prosperine - The darkening amber of faith’s sunset, deepened by the dark fruits of Proserpine. The first time I tried this, it went wonky after 20 minutes. This time, it's staying mostly perfumey amber that doesn't go powdery, and the dark fruits aren't starting to smell like rotten fruit. I'm blaming hormones for that first failure trial. This time it's dark, ambery, and only very slightly fruity. Fades pretty fast though; it's almost completely gone in an hour, leaving just a trace of amber.   Jazz Funeral - Bittersweet bay rum, bourbon, and a host of funeral flowers with a touch of graveyard dirt, magnolia and Spanish Moss. At first I can mainly smell the dirt, but it has a very sweet floral overtone. It turns into a sweet floral with a really lush, rich background. It smells humid to me and reminds me of a hothouse. This might be the only GC blend with a dirt note that I would wear. (I specified GC because I sometimes wear Queen of Clubs.) Good throw for only the first couple of hours, but it's still faintly there for several hours after that.   Jolly Roger - Sea spray with an undercurrent of leather, Bay Rum, and salty, dry woods. At first it smells salty and grassy to me. It's pretty green. Then as it's drying it smells more like an aquatic/grass combination. I like the scent, but as a perfume it fits my hubby better than me. Good throw.   Juke Joint - A bawdy, gleefully wicked and unruly scent: Kentucky Bourbon, sugar and a sprig of mint. The first scent I can pick out in this is mint. Then it turns into a sweet boozey scent with the barest bit of mint... blends like this are what makes BPAL the paragon of perfume excellence that it is. I have never smelled anything like this. It's like springtime, but it's a fun spring day -- like one of the days when you have a few drinks with good friends and you all end up skinny-dipping in the lake. The scent that I can tell is bourbon reminds me of my grandmother, which is kind of weird. Makes me wonder if Grandma was in the habit of taking a nip from a hip flask when I wasn't looking. Wears close to the skin; not a lot of throw.
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

0
Do you have a flag?
 

Grrrr. Women who shouldn't be moms.

I was at the airport yesterday picking up my husband, and I was sitting in one of those rows of chairs. A woman and her child sat down behind me, facing the other direction. For the next 20 minutes (until I could no longer stand it and got up and left), this woman lied to her kid, made him cry, berated him, and basically told him he sucked. Not only that, but she had this whiny nasal voice with a pitch that could bend steel, and she spoke very loudly.   Apparently the kid (probably 3-4 years old) had just gotten a Spiderman toy less than an hour ago, and he threw it into some baggage bin or something, and they had to sit there and wait for airport personnel to retrieve it for them. So the woman ran through the list of other things she could have bought with that $8 instead of wasting it on a toy for the kid which he then "threw away." She told him that his dad works hard for that $8 and it was not nice of him to throw Daddy's money away. She told him that when she told Daddy about what he did with the toy, Daddy would probably never buy him another toy again. She pointed to a policewoman and told him that she was going to go over and tell the policewoman what he had done and she would come over and arrest him and take him to jail. This is when the kid started to cry. The crying just spurred her on, she then described how miserable he would be all alone, without Mommy or Daddy and no toys at all either.   All of this because the kid had a toy and did what kids do when they have toys that look like superheroes who fly through the air: He threw it. She sat there and let him throw the toy repeatedly, and then when it landed in a bad spot she berated him for 20 minutes in public, doled out the "wait until Daddy finds out" threat, and then told him he's going to jail. Of course none of this is her fault, it's all the kid's fault. Unbelievable.   I have no idea at all what gave that woman the idea that it's acceptable to talk to a little child like that. I honestly can't imagine that it would be natural to anyone, so I guess she must have seen someone else do it and figured it was a good idea. Which sickens me even more.
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

0
Filling the Periodic Table
 

Pictures from my garden - Flowers!

Because the forum limits the number of pictures per post, I had to split it up.   My miniature roses: I had a bad aphid infestation while these buds were forming, so these flowers are a little ratty looking, but there are a ton of new buds that should look beautiful when they open!   My pot of morning glories and moonflowers: I planted 2 of each, I'm planning to grow them up the balcony railing. I planted them kind of in the 4 corners, but I guess some sloppy watering moved them around a bit. The two little sprouts are the morning glories, and the two moonflowers are sprouting as we speak!   My moonflower seeds breaking through the soil: How awesome is that?!? I feel like I'm in 1st grade again! I am planning to take more pictures of them in a few hours to see how far they've come   My moonflower seeds 24 hours later:
antimony

antimony

0
Filling the Periodic Table
 

Pictures from my garden - Edibles!

My strawberries:   My Habanero pepper:   My hanging basket tomato: I swear it's growing so fast I can almost see it happening!   My "Experimental" tomato: - I'm trying it out in a self-watering container made from a 3 liter bottle. I know it won't produce well or have the best-tasting tomatoes, but it amuses me. I'm going to wrap the container in mylar to keep the roots from burning.   My herbs: Thyme and basil
antimony

antimony

0
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Your fave romantic movie?

If you had to pick your favorite "romantic" movie, what would you pick?   Romantic is indeed in the eye and mind and heart of the beholder. If you look up "romantic" in Webster's, you'd find definitions that include: "consisting of or resembling romance," "having no basis in fact," "imaginary," "marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious or idealized," "marked by expression or love or affection," and "conductive to or suitable for lovemaking."   Indeed, what some call romantic, I might call sentimental and almost maudlin, and thus, unromantic as hell. And I'm sure others might watch my favorite "romantic" movie and wonder what was so romantic about people who were all confused, drinking a bit too much and acting snarky most of the time. But I do love "The Philadelphia Story." First of all, it's too damn funny and witty. It has Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart zinging lines back and forth at each other. The snappy repartee is delicious. But what I really find romantic about that movie is that for some people, when you meet your match, when you meet someone who can both dish it out and take it, you just can't let it drop. Ever. Finally you just give it up and give in to what's going on. But the fight is fun and it makes giving in even more delicious. That's a very romantic notion of mine, and "The Philadelphia Story" has it in spades. Sigh...   So tell me your favorite romantic movie, and tell me why...
valentina

valentina

6
cranberry's Blog
 

Spacekitty #1 - reviewed and shipped

Picked up my first package it the General Catalog swap last night and am testing my first oil tonight.   Contents included: hamptons - reviewed black forest- reviewed jabberwocky - reviewed la petit mort - reviewed mock turtle lessons - reviewed megaera - reviewed psyche - reviewed shango - reviewed   wahoo! I can't wait to try these!   ETA: ok, I've tested these all. I'm awaiting a new tin and then they are ready to send off to cordia. Woot!   6-2-06: ETA, I've sent these off to cordia - the tin that spacekitty used was just fine so there didn't seem to be a need to wait.
cranberry

cranberry

8
Sourball Ho!
 

ID & package theft

inkdarkmoon posted about a shipment she was afraid was lost/stolen, and luckily she found it, but since we all do quite a bit of shopping and online ordering I wanted to toss in one experience I had last year.   I believe the problem started with a local beauty supply store with a member loyalty program, where you sign up and get a membership card, and they'll send you mailers with coupons and sale notices. No problems by itself, but my mistake was after I used my mailer with the coupon, the salesgirl asked if I wanted to keep the mailer. I said no and didn't give it another thought. Unfortunately (and this is total speculation) I believe the salesgirl kept the mailer with my name and address, and since I paid with a credit card she had my credit card number too.   I didn't know of any problem until my credit card statement, when I saw a charge for almost $250 to a clothing store at a local mall. I hadn't been to that mall in a couple of years, and had never shopped at this store. It was a week or so after my trip to the beauty store. I disputed the charge and paid the rest.   About a month later I got "proof" of my purchase from the clothing store: they had a screen shot of my name and address, and UPS "delivery" to my house that of course wasn't my signature (it looked like Cynthia something). I called bullshit and disputed this "proof," as they didn't have my scanned credit card, just the number manually entered (the credit card company can tell), the store didn't have my signature on file, and UPS' delivery proof wasn't my signature. I also tracked the UPS shipment online and sent to the credit card company, because it showed that right after shipment the "customer" called and rerouted the package to Will Call! So UPS showed the package signed for at my house, but if you brought tracking up it clearly showed the package was diverted.   A month later the credit card company said I wasn't responsible for the charge, mainly because of my UPS tracking proof which the store conveniently didn't include. My guess for all of this is that salesgirl at beauty store called the clothing store and used my info, maybe with an accomplice at the clothing store, charged my card and shipped the goods, but then called as the "customer" and picked up the package at UPS later.   The kicker is that when I was going through receipts, the clerk at the beauty store was "Cynthia." Coincidence? Part of me wanted to call both stores and raise hell and get people fired, but I have no real proof it was even the beauty store salesgirl. I've never gone back to the beauty store though.
dawndie

dawndie

3
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Pie hole

Calling someone's mouth their "pie hole" has always amused me considerably. As in: "Shut your pie hole." It's even better when said with a Andy Griffith/Mayberry accent, as in: "Shuhut yer pah hawl, Barney. Ima thankin' 'bout sumthin.'"   I work with someone who is apparently a monument to oral fixations. If she isn't talking at a very high volume, she's eating at a high volume. This person likes to hear herself smack, schlurp and snort as she eats. She is a professional person, but she is a grotesque eater. She also makes little murmuring and yummy sounds as she eats. And she feeds her pie hole all the time. Often she has food smeared on her face when she's eating because she virtually sticks her face in it and slops like a hog. Astonishing. Disgusting table manners are truly one of my pet peeves. If she had french manicured toenails, I would probably lose my mind.   And have a look at this, I pull this site up and play it every now and then. It's good for a titter.   http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/piehole.php
valentina

valentina

5
Gone Batty
 

WTF?

I am absolutely and completely befuddled. I could swear that I had ordered Dragon Moon along with Eat Me and Obatala and Hymn to Proserpine but after looking through my emails and Paypal I can't find any evidence of such an order. I went back to look at the description of Dragon Moon and there's just no way I would have passed that up ::scratches head:: How freaking frustrating to miss out on Dragon Moon as well as realizing that yummy things I thought I had on order aren't and now I have to wait all over again. I'm so annoyed with myself   Seriously - wtf? This is from the Dragon Moon thread:     I knew I didn't imagine that order! The only thing I can think of is that I never hit the final pay button on the paypal page. Gah
miss apple

miss apple

0
Sourball Ho!
 

Vegas!

I started responding to the Las Vegas thread and realized I have too much to say We go to Vegas usually once a year. We're not big gamblers, but we end up having a blast without spending (or losing ) a lot of money. Our tried-tested-true tips are:   --Go during the week instead of the weekend. Hotel prices on weeknights can be less than 50% of what you'd pay over the weekend. --Don't just look for the cheapest hotel rates, think about what else you want to do and see. A cheap hotel isn't a bargain if it's way off by itself and you have to take a cab to do anything else. --Everyone should try a huge Vegas buffet once. Rio has a great one, and like the others, lunch is cheaper than dinner for the same food. --Don't forget about free drinks! If you're gambling (even at the penny or nickel slots) cocktail waitresses will walk by and bring you whatever you want, even mixed drinks (although notoriously watered-down and in teeny glasses). Bottled beer or water is best to avoid the teeny glasses. --There's technically an "open container" law, but you'll see people walking around all the time (especially downtown) with their beer or crazy half-yard drinks so it's no big deal.   Fun free stuff to do: Rio (west of the Strip) has a Mardi Gras carnival, with floats that hang from the ceiling where people toss beads. Oh! The last time we were there they had both male & female cocktail people who would intermittently hop up onto stages above the slots and dance, then hop back down. It was SURREAL and HILARIOUS --Flamingo has a bird sanctuary, nice to walk through --Mirage has a nice tropical walk-through, lots of waterfalls, and you can see the white tigers --Treasure Island has big pirate boats in front, and at night they'll put on a show. It used to be an "arr, matey" pirate show but the last time we were there they were switching it around to "Sirens of the Sea" or something like that; we haven't seen it --Venetian has the canals with singing gondoliers --Tons of window shopping: Forum Shops at Caesars is the hugest, but Aladdin has a nice-sized mall too, with a Sephora --Downtown is great, especially at night -- a bunch of older, smaller casinos within 3-4 blocks. Plus light shows at night, and a few huge souvenir shops that are cheaper than the Strip hotel gift shops. We bought a pseudo-neon Welcome to Las Vegas sign that was $30 downtown, then back at the Flamingo it was $40!   OK, now I want to go again
dawndie

dawndie

4
Birdsongs
 

Careful, they'll see you!

My younger brother just made a Myspace page lately, and he's gotten caught up in new-blog-excitement. I remember this from when I first made my LJ & was posting all the time - then people found it & I got all self-conscious & now it's pretty much just quizzes & random musings.   My brother's first few entries were about music, movies, his disenchantment with modern baseball - all well & good. His last entry started out talking about the finale of some show he watches, then ended with this:   "I realized a few nights ago when I stopped talking. I figure that I was pretty normal in Mountain Home (K-2) and again in Staunton (3&4). But I completely shut down after we moved to Haleyville (5th grade). I've been drifting these last 14 years. Was this change as marked as I'm remembering? or was I never normal?"   My brother never says anything introspective. Never! I simultaneously want to hug him & tell him he'll be fine, and am thinking, No! Anyone can stumble across stuff you put on the internet - cousins, family ... We are a reticent, secretive people (he doesn't talk much, really, but many people talk too much - we're just quiet and he's the quietest), and I'm suspicious of any opening up. Maybe he'll think better of it soon & edit the entry - I did that with several blog entries myself when I realized more than two people had found it.   He'll be moving up here in a couple of weeks. Maybe switching locales will help, & he'll start feeling more adventurous & positive. That's another reason I really wanted a four-bedroom house, even though some friends of mine thought it wasn't a good idea. He gets along with the other two people we'll be living with, and if he was going to get his own place he would have done it already. This seems like a good first step ...
spanishviolet

spanishviolet

0
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Another Prophet Raoul-ism

Last night another saying that I've only heard said by The Prophet Raoul -- if you don't know who I'm talking about, read my entry from a couple days ago -- came out of my mouth. Whenever Raoul was discussing something or someone that he found to be particularly unsightly, he liked to say: "If _______ was a dog, I'd shave its ass and make it walk backwards."   What a visual.
valentina

valentina

0
Is Anybody Out There?
 

Ch-ch-ch-changes

My mother decided to leave my father when I was 14 years old, an idea that I supported. Unfortunately, the method was all wrong. Instead of going through an attorney, she packed up the car and we rode off into the sunset. It was a whole big ordeal.   I was never one of those kids who was afraid of her parents getting a divorce. I occasionally prayed for it, even as early as 8 or 9 years old. I don't know- possibly before then.   When we left town, it was several days before he noticed. Days. He called my sister (from his first marriage), who was in her late 20s at the time, I believe. He was frantic about who was going to take care of him. It's always all about him. Most two year olds are less self-centered, and that's not hyperbole.   We eventually came back.   My mother's health is declining. Living with him has gotten progressively worse. So... she's decided to leave him. Finally. My fiancee (husband in less than a month!) talked her into seeing a lawyer and doing this right. It's just dredging up a lot of shit for me. There's SO much more that I can't process yet. But yeah. If I'm all over the place, that's part of the reason.
smallvoice

smallvoice

3
Diplomatka
 

Flying the Unfriendly Skies

I hate flying. Don’t get me wrong, I am not afraid of a terrorist attack or mechanical problems or the plane being shot out of the sky; I hate the process of flying. Going to the airport two hours before the flight, checking in bags, going through security, standing in line at passport control and customs, sitting around in the waiting area. And then, once I get on the plane, having to deal with people standing in the aisle putting bags away (unable to move for three seconds for me to pass), sitting next to the middle-aged Indian guy who farts and snores the whole ten hour flight, dealing with the toilets at the end of the flight with pee all over every possible surface and used tissues sticking out of every nook and cranny. The crying babies with the parents who act like I should give a shit that their kid is crying, while I put in earplugs and wait for the Xanax to kick in. Then getting off the plane somewhere in Europe, sitting around an airport for five hours and then doing it all over again.   And while I absolutely hate flying for these reasons, my hatred has suddenly become acute. Why? Ariana Afghan Airlines. Now if these three words do not make your blood run cold, consider the facts: in its 25 years Ariana has had one hijacking (in 2000 five Afghans took an internal flight to London—you probably heard about this on the news recently as all of the hijackers were granted asylum) and five crashes. Since moving to Afghanistan last year, I have been forced, repeatedly, to take Ariana Airlines when I want to get the fuck out of Kabul and each time has been a terrifying, humiliating and life-changing experience.   I must say that I am no light-weight when it comes to traveling. I have flown on Yak-40s, Tupelovs, and planes decommissioned by the Democratic Republic of Congo for christssakes, but nothing prepared me for the deep, irrevocable fear I feel when flying Ariana. This fear emerges when you first get to the gate. When traveling from Dubai to Kabul, you must go to Terminal Two. Terminal Two has none of the restaurants, shops and aesthetic touches of Terminal One. Indeed, Terminal Two is at the gateway to hell; a small hallway that looks like a series of trailers slapped together. The flights that leave from Terminal Two are only to god-forsaken places like Afghanistan: there are flights to Baghdad, Djabouti, and remote areas of Iran from Terminal Two, but never to any place with consistent electricity, running water, or a lack of armed conflict for the past 5 years. While purchasing alcohol at the one duty free shop in Terminal Two, I ALWAYS see the Russian pilot of my plane (he’s wearing an Ariana badge) buying vodka, which I pray he does not consume in-flight, but realize it might not be a bad idea. While checking out with my liquor stash the Phillipina behind the register asks me with wide eyes, “where are you going?” and “is it safe there?”   The atmosphere of Terminal Two is a microcosm of the situation in the Middle East and Central Asia: there are fatties from the Midwest with their “Operation Freedom” shirts, African American men wearing jeans and sneakers, white women who look like they took a flight from Wal-Mart to the UAE, Afghan men in their shalwar kamezes and wool caps, and Arabs in traditional headdresses. I always try to bury my head in a book and distance myself from the Americans, they are so culturally inept and embarrassing. I mean, you are going to the Middle East for fuck’s sake—do you think it is a good idea to wear a “Christ’s Gym” t-shirt?!?!   Once you check in it’s every woman for herself. In the waiting area, you will hear stupid British mercenaries go on and on about what happened recently in Kandahar while the Afghans (all male) sit and stare at everyone in silence. Once the airline worker walks through with a radio you know you’d better jump-the-fuck-up and run hell for leather to the door to be sure that you are the first motherfucker on the bus to the plane. Once on the plane, I notice that I am only one of about three women—all foreign—of the 150 passengers. The plane is hot, it smells like body odor and three-day old dahl. It’s an old Soviet plane, probably built in the 1960’s or 1970’s and it appears to be held together with duct tape. As I walk down the aisle the Afghan men eye me in fear that I will sit down next to them. Invariably, my assigned seat is broken, so I usually park it next to some pasty old Western dude. The Afghan men all stare at me like I am going to jump up and take off my top as we taxi.   Once in the air, I dare not look out the window at the jagged mountain tops mere feet below us. If I do, I start wondering how in the hell we could make an emergency landing if we needed to and every small tremor of turbulence makes me put a death grip on the armrests. I take more Xanax and try to sleep. Soon the food is brought around: a greasy chicken leg, a half a lemon, a hot pepper, some potatoes, and Afghan naan. I eat the hot pepper in naan and wonder, did they prepare this in Dubai? Before realizing that in fact the food had come from Kabul the day before and had been transported across Iran twice before it reached my folding tray.   The decent into Kabul is sharp; there are mountains all around and it is a quick two minutes till the plane is on the ground. As soon as we touch down, five Afghans stand up and open the overhead compartments while the crew yells over the loudspeakers in Dari for them to sit down. After we stop, I put on my head scarf and maneuver as quickly as possible to get off the plane. I have spent two hours in passport control before (a supervisor slapped a border worker, causing a work slow-down) and I wish never to repeat it.   Once I am off the plane, it doesn’t all seem that bad. We made it. But I know it is just a matter of time before the inevitable happens with Ariana; after all, it has happened five times before. So next month, on my way to Bangkok, you can bet your ass I will not be flying Ariana. I will be safe and sound on a UN plane.
Confection

Confection

0
Sourball Ho!
 

Let's watch some sports! *cheer*

Yes, the title is sarcastic. I do not understand the excitement of cultivating your ulcer around some dudes running around. DH isn't a huge football fan, thank goodness -- his drug of choice is basketball. So 5 guys running up and down the court dictate not only his mood for the evening, but it dictates our evening:   --we have to watch the pregame yakking about what a great game this will be. But I can understand anticipation (Update Speculation thread, anyone? )   --then it's the game, 2-3 hours of tense up-and-down, back-and-forth *yawn* At least DH isn't yelling at the TV during all this.   --don't forget, after the game it's post-game commentary! Oh goody. Lots of yakking about how the game went. If the team won then everyone played great against formidable opponents. If the team didn't win then it's the refs' fault.   I'm just bitter because I want to watch CSI reruns instead.
dawndie

dawndie

3
Emain Macha
 

Hungry Ghost Moon T-shirt

done!   (sorry, you can't see it yet.)   But I'm very happy with it. And may I give a brief nod to the drama-loving, bitter and spiteful folks over at the LJ BPAL anonymeme? Thanks to them, I had a healthy dose of hate and malice to channel into my art, and I'd like to think this shirt design reflects that.   What good is being an artist if you can't turn lemons into lemonade, right?
Macha

Macha

4
Gone Batty
 

Is it time to go home yet?

Oh my god am I tired. Lots of tossing and turning plus some freaky dream where I was married to David Haselhoff (who had long hair, wtf?!) made for a poor night's sleep. The night before was like that too only with a different weird dream. I wonder what my subconscious is trying to tell me. Maybe I don't want to know.   My husband has to go to Vegas for work in July and was asking me if I wanted to fly out towards the end of the week for a mini vacation. I like Vegas but I don't know if I want to go out there when it will be so beastly hot plus I'm not sure if I want to use more of my leave. We haven't figured out if we're going to Europe or Morocco in the fall yet so I don't want to take time off that may be better spent then. It also might make more sense to save up and go in the spring and take a few local trips.   I can't wait for the three day weekend to get here, even if I am on call.
miss apple

miss apple

2
Gone Batty
 

Dobeedobeedooo

Ok, I admit it. I went shopping yesterday. I didn't need to but I did it anyway. It was the MAC thread that made me do it. I just had to see the new lines and I haven't bought any thing new for a while...er, yeah. I thought I was going to get off easy with a couple of pigments and one of the new cheek stains but then I saw the new liquid liners and - swoon! They had aqua and lime, how could I turn that down?! After that I went down to the book store to pick up the last two Southern Vampire books that are available in paperback. Then I went to Urban Outiftters to check the sale rack because lately I've been finding some amazing deals there. Yesterday was no different and I scored a black lacey 80's style skirt that kinda looks like it got caught in the car door because it has an uneven hemline. Original price was $68 marked down to $4.99! Score!
miss apple

miss apple

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