Much as you might be tempted to, don't fall down and worship the marketing materials I dropped off on your doorstep. It's against the Ten Commandments, after all.

And no more rush jobs, okay? It interrupts my indolence. I came awfully close to having to work on that project, which of course makes me quake in fear.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:54 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Isn't life delicious?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:26 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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. . . that I'm not in the mood to finish the brochures and other promotional whatnot for my father's business.

And the fact that they are due tomorrow doesn't really change that.

The mood thing, I mean.

Perhaps I could trick myself: you know. "Whatever you do, Joy, don't proofread that marketing material for Dad. And if you really, really must do that, don't make sure they'll print correctly. Whatever you do. That would be very wicked indeed."

Surely there's a fence around here I could whitewash . . . now that would be a good time.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:57 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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I managed to commandeer Attila the Hub's laptop computer for a while today until I made up with my own. And I would like full credit for not fixing his browser bookmarks, which are all wrong (also, there aren't enough of them; if you don't have to scroll for five minutes, you don't have enough).

I'd also like full credit for not fixing the pre-sets on his radio when I borrow his car. Those are likewise not as they should be.

Question: What went wrong? Why don't I rule the world? I could save all of you a lot of decision-making time on these issues. You'd actually find it rather liberating.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:25 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 And the winner is, Attila Girl, for putting up with our insufferable nonsense. When I used my sister's (tired old) PC, I did not erase my brother-in-law's bookmarks, which include luminaries like Juan Cole, Dkos, Atrios, etc. However, I did add a few, just to see if he'd notice

Posted by: beautifulatrocities at February 23, 2006 06:48 AM (zmzBp)

2

Posted by: Attila Girl at February 23, 2006 11:30 AM (s96U4)

3 I thought that was a male trait -- a biological/genetic need to fix things. I fix things until I hear a female voice yelling, "Stop that!"

Posted by: Attila (Pillage Idiot) at February 24, 2006 10:18 AM (C31gH)

4 Well, there's plenty of evidence that I'm actually a 17-year-old boy trapped in a curvaceous, short female body. I mean, what do I like?--guns. Trains. Tanks. I don't do the channel surfing thing when I watch TV, but I do it in my car when I listen to the radio. No attention span whatsoever. I used to try to fix people, until I realized they are simply, as a race, beyond repair.

Posted by: Attila Girl at February 24, 2006 12:47 PM (s96U4)

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. . . until I figure out what's wrong with my computer. I'm on Attila the Hub's PowerBook right now, while mine gets over whatever little mood it's in. I'm giving it a time out so it will learn to play nice with the other kids. Especially me.

Of course, if that doesn't work it's back to the Genius Bar at the Mac store; they are so tired of me there.

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How funny that this resonated so loudly with me when I was 25 years old. I heard a snippet of it recently; what an excellent song.

There was a moon and a street lamp
I didnÂ’t know I drank such a lot
Â’till I pissed a tequila-anaconda
The full length of the parking lot!
Oh, I talk too loose
Again I talk too open and free
I pay a high price for my open talking
Like you do for your silent mystery

. . . . . . . .

We could talk about martha
We could talk about landscapes
IÂ’m not above gossip
But IÂ’ll sit on a secret where honor is at stake!
Or we could talk about power
About jesus and hitler and howard hughes
Or charlie chaplinÂ’s movies
Or bergmanÂ’s nordic blues
Please just talk to me
Any old theme you choose

. . . . . . . .

You could talk like a fool-IÂ’d listen
You could talk like a sage
Anyway the best of my mind
All goes down on the strings and the page
That mind picks up all these pictures
It still gets my feet up to dance
Even though itÂ’s covered with keyloids
From the slings and arrows of outrageous romance
I stole that from willy the shake!
You know--neither a borrower nor a lender be

. . . . . . . .

Is your silence that golden?
Are you comfortable in it?
Is it the key to your freedom
Or is it the bars on your prison?
Are you gagged by your ribbons?
Are you really exclusive or just miserly?
You spend every sentence as if it was marked currency!
Come and spend some on me--
Shut me up and talk to me!
IÂ’m always talking!
Chicken squawking!
Please talk to me

And now it's possible for me to have compassion for the person I was back then. Which is pretty cool, if you want to know the truth. I no longer want to travel back in time and give that girl—ahem—a good talking-to.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:41 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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Home today; I'm flying back to LA out of B-More this afternoon. And I loved my time in D.C.; I'm loving my time in Maryland. But I'm ready to go home, "to my own bed, where I can let go." I'm deeply exhausted—in that "tired but happy" way.

I also haven't seen my husband in a week, so I'll need to power-interact with him. I might just hug him for another full week straight, though that would make things awkward as he attempted to go about his business.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:48 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 It was great having you here, but I'm also glad the weather will let you leave.

Posted by: Attila (Pillage Idiot) at February 15, 2006 07:37 AM (ZaM5Y)

2 "power-interact" Is that what they're calling it now these days? :-)

Posted by: Daniel at February 15, 2006 11:45 AM (GIhW0)

3 Ha! Daniel beat me to the punch with the question.

Posted by: Desert Cat at February 15, 2006 04:35 PM (B2X7i)

4 I was thinking about the hugging and kissing, but I'll be perfectly happy when matters progress.

Posted by: Attila Girl at February 15, 2006 11:30 PM (XbEp3)

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I'm in Prof. Purkinje's guest room, looking at photographs he's taken over the years, and a colorful piece of iguana folk art that my then-partner and I gave him as a wedding present in 1990. There's a picture on the desk of him with another biologist I know quite well. And a tin can is used as a pen holder: he's had it for years, and it alludes to a group joke from our high school days. And I'm pretty sure that another print on the wall is one I gave him 20 years ago.

So naturally, I suspect him of tweaking the decor to make me feel at home. What I don't think he tweaked is the bookcase, which is astonishing to me—not because of the coincidental overlap in our tastes, but because it suddenly hits me how many books I got turned onto through him, when one adds up the high school recommendations to the college ones to those from when we were in our twenties. This isn't even counting my two favorite mystery writers (other than Dorothy L. Sayers, of course), who between them account for a full bookshelf of mine at home, but are not represented here. And then there are the 2-3 books I've actually recommended to him. The overlap is, on the whole, tremendous. Though he has more books, and he's actually read them.

I'm a proofreader. I read slowly. And—let's face it: my eyes are bigger than my eyes. Not that that's a bad thing . . . I hope.

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So, Prof. Purkinje's son, age almost-nine, is showing me his Robo-Raptor.

"Wow," I say. I'm really impressed. "Isn't he a cutie?"

"Cute?" He's appalled.

"I meant a butch sort of cute," I tell him.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:33 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I'm headed out tonight on the redeye to D.C., to take up residence in Blogger's Alley beginning Thursday morning. I'll be attending the Presidential Banquet as a civilian, so I can socialize better with a few of the Cotillion babes.

I will need to do a bank job when I get back, since my fundraising fell a few hundred short of the mark. But that's okay. Unless someone has an alternative suggestion: after all, a bank is a Federal rap. Perhaps a jewelry store would be more practical. Anyway, I'm open to suggestions on that.

I'll try to get in some sightseeing tomorrow, and I'll have a little time on Sunday to do the same. Then it's off to Maryland for a few days, and home again home again, jiggety jog on Wednesday.

I virtually grew up in the Smithsonian during the years I lived in Md., but there probably won't be time to visit all my old haunts: I really want to see the WWII memorial, and if they're still giving tours of the J. Edgar Hoover building, I might do that.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:06 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 WAY COOL! 'Can't wait for your reports from the front.

Posted by: Sissy Willis at February 08, 2006 06:11 AM (FU1id)

2 Have fun! Sleep well! Breathe good!

Posted by: k at February 08, 2006 05:30 PM (Ffvoi)

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I got the stents out today; therefore the blood and snot flow have slowed down, and . . .

I'M BREATHING THROUGH MY NOSE!

I mean, deep breaths. With my mouth closed. And it takes very little effort. It doesn't make a whole lot of noise, either.

Oxygen is my friend.

Maybe Attila the Hub and I should move into a little trailer, so I can give the house to my ENT doctor/surgeon, as a small token of my appreciation.

Alternatively, I might simply send him a box of candy or a basket of fruit. (No flowers: too many allergic people go through his office.) That might be an easier sell around the household.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:06 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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I used to claim that although I could be as catty and competitive as the next girl, I never ever started a feud with another woman, but only responded when others began sending me that competitive vibe.

I'm pretty sure I was full of shit about that.

There's a woman whom I admire greatly and see a few times a month. She's intelligent, beautiful, and cultured. She has a good job and can afford extremely nice clothes and expensive hair treatments.

She seems increasingly edgy with me, and my first impulse is to wonder what her damned problem is. But I know I can be as passive-aggressive as the next person. I also know that I suspected my husband of having a crush on her for a while. (He denies this.) So there's every possibility that I've been oozing animus toward her without quite admitting it to myself.

The trick is to figure out what sorts of bullshit I've been pulling, and apologize for it.

I'm too old for this shit, and it's time to nip it in the bud.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:01 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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