Would I be the first to be kicked out? If so.. I get to be the leader!

During a phone conversation with Jen, I came up with a solution to the immigration problem. Give people a five year amnesty in the States. At the end of five years, they would have to present themselves before a committee that decides whether this person has made a positive addition to the American society or not. If not, they don't get to stay.
Wishful thinking has me desiring to send Americans out on the basis of the same merits. Member of a gang? Out you go. Mel Gibson? Back to Australia with you. Speaking of Australia... Perhaps there is another island we could have to send undesirables to. They could create their own government and in a few years, we'd all be clamoring to go there and speak like they do.
Just a thought on a Monday morning. More coffee, please!

Musings

• Why are there beauty contests? Aren't beautiful people already rewarded enough?
  
• Just because he said this: "Remember that Saddam Hussein is a military man," Hussein said. "If sentenced, it should be with a firing squad, not hanging like criminals." I think he should be left to hang like the criminal he is.
  
• Is Anne Hathaway the new Sandra Bullock? In Sandra's movies Love Potion #9 and Miss Congeniality, she is an unfortunate looking girl who becomes a super cute girl. In Anne's movies The Princess Diaries and The Devil Wears Prada, she is an unfortunate looking girl who becomes a super cute girl.
  
• It does not matter how old you are when your parents die. You still become an orphan and that is really heartbreaking.
  
• Osama Bin Laden is the number one most wanted terrorist on the FBI website. But he is wanted for 1998 bombings of embassies, not the September 11 fiasco. But he did it, right?

Freaky

I took an OKCupid quiz and well, friends, I think it is pretty accurate. What do you think? Scary. Go take it. (Maybe I just like when a quiz says I am the smartest!)

The Priss Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLDf)
Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss. Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy.

Your exact opposite:
The PlaystationRandom Gentle Sex Master You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady & long-term. And soothing.

ALWAYS AVOID: The Playboy, The Loverboy
CONSIDER: The Manchild

Buggie's political soapbox

You are a Social Moderate (41% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (21% permissive) You are best described as a: Democrat Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Yeah, that seems about right. I don't really align myself with a certain party, choosing to rather follow individuals if they seem to be on the same path as me. I was watching a commercial for Mark Kennedy who is running for the MN seat of the Senate. The commercial makes a big point of how the Congressman is not a politician. He is an accountant. I think it is interesting how the tide is turning against "politicians" and towards "normal" people. I kind of like it. I have some serious issues with the way people are voted into office. It just seems like a popularity contest of whoever has the most money. A friend came up with a plan to stop the election war chest and give each candidate some public television time to state their case. I think that is a brilliant plan. I want politics to stop being a dirty word and have elected officials actually be dedicated to making a change for the better and helping their constituents.

Saddle up

This girl and this girl coerced me into going to a place I would never think would be a fun place to go. I am simply not a country music fan, nor do I swoon at the sight of cowboys. Velvet, however, says YEEE HAW! So, there we were, surrounded by Wranglers and Jessica Simpson cowboy boots, some of us with the intention of drinking entirely too much and hiding in a corner. (Er, that would be me.) Instead, I drank water and looked around at all the cowboy hats that looked surprisingly good. We decide to venture out to the dance floor to see what crazy line dancing looks like. Within 12 seconds, Marci and Velvet are off, to demonstrate what can only be called a terrible handle on the two step. Turns out, we never left the dance floor. We were whirling and two-stepping and line dancing like fools. I was still on the dance floor when the lights were turned on! Brutal.

Blogger stats are coooool

I spend way too much time on the website that tells me where ya'll are from. I think it is so cool to see that people from Italy and Sweden come to read my page, even if if it is in the hopes of finding nudie pictures of Wentworth Miller. (But hell, if you do find those, send them my way!) I have a huge contigency of people reading me in England. Hi Brits!! (By huge, I mean 3 or 4.) I linked myself to www.DCblogs.com/live and that has brought in some new people to witness my wild pontificating. But I still believe that if Suri Cruise is real, she is the offspring of old L. Ron Hubbard sperm. Ew.
But you know what is crazy? After all the crazy wine-infused blogging courtesy of me and Marci, I don't really get a bunch of random hits. (I did get a couple a long time ago for "boobes" which is Marci's drunken way of spelling boobs. But I feel sad for the people looking for boobes, 'cause they won't really find them on my page.)
You people come here on purpose. I like that. I like you guys. So, I might start a new project on top of my "Today in History" and the alphabet series. I might start the "Bug Fan of the Moment" entry. That would entail me going over the history of the hits on my blog and say I get a couple from Silver Spring, MD, or say a ton of hits from someone that works at Verizon, I will do an entry on Silver Spring or Verizon. Fun, huh? Ok, probably not. I am way too lazy for that.

Ooh, I just got a hit from Dubai!

I'll just sit here with you

I was just in the bathroom washing my hands, when a co-worker came in, went into a stall and started to talk to me. I hate that. So weird to speak when you know someone is half naked and emitting fluids from their body. That, however, is not the point of my entry today. She was talking to me about a friend of her's who is dying of pancreatic cancer. She lives on the west coast. I asked if she was going to visit her and she said no. She was saving her money for the funeral, but would call her a few times a week and also send care packages.
I got to wondering what I would do in her situation. I think I would rather be there now, though my friend was probably suffering terribly. I think I would want that chance to be together, to reminisce, to create new memories. I think I would rather be there for her while she was still around because once someone is gone, you can't get that back.

What day is it today?

At the end of yesterday I kept telling people to have a great weekend... I will call them over the weekend... Stuff like that, because I believed it was Friday. Friday!But it was not Friday, was it? No. It was Thursday. So I told my boss that if I did not show up to work on Friday (today), it was because I thought yesterday was Friday.
Last week I woke up on Sunday at 9:30 am. I rolled over and looked at my clock and thought crap! Am I late for work? What day is it? What did I do yesterday? But I did not move from the comfort of my bed until I was certain that I was not late for work, that it was still the weekend.
I guess what I am trying to say is that I need a big clock that tells me the day, or something.

Let's chat

I had written this whole long thing on dating and anticipation fireworks... (You know, when you are just dying for that special someone to give you a kiss.) But then I realized I don't want people telling me what I am doing wrong with my life and how to do it better. So, while it was brilliantly crafted, you won't get to read it.

Instead, we will discuss... Um. I've got nothing today! I watched several hours of Chinese history last night and believe myself to have a grasp of why China became a communist country. It makes a lot of sense when you consider what all was going on there then. I would never have thought that it would be as interesting as it is. Maybe I should stop whining about this class?

I also fell asleep on my couch for a bit, and therefore missed my opportunity to see a movie with some great people I would like to get to know better, and also missed the chance to eat food off of my neighbor's grill. Damn vortex sofa! AND I have yet to clean my nasty bathroom. Bah!

So tonight I shall steer clear of the yellow sleep monster and instead dole out baseball tickets for the CUBBIES whilst enjoying friendly company and even friendlier booze. Shortly thereafter, I will dine with my very best. Pictures may follow.

Sorry to be so dull today. Buggie out!

I'm crabby

I guess I should head off to Maryland. Isn't it funny that Virginia is for Lovers, but Maryland has crabs? Do the two go hand in hand?
There is a restaurant in Annapolis with picnic tables and brown paper tablecloths. They give you a mallet and a pail of crabs and let you have at it. It is the best place to be on a Saturday afternoon in the summer, covered in Old Bay, listening to the random band that plays whilst you whale away on a dead crustacean.
I went to the Crab House in VA with my family a few years ago, and while we were contemplating which ocean creature to devour, a crab pulled a Sebastian, and tried to scuttle out the front door. They caught him and I may have eaten him, but it was kind of fun to see his attempted escape.

Today in History - July 18

Jeepers, today has been a crazy day for people throughout time.

Nadia Comaneci scored the first perfect 10 in the 1976 Olympics. That reminds me of a plastic surgeon I used to know who would tell me, "Buggie, you are a pretty girl, but I can make you a perfect ten with some slight modifications."

Remember when Senator Ted Kennedy drove his car into a pond and his passenger died? That happened today in 1969.

Rebecca Schaeffer was shot and killed by a psycho fan in 1989. This prompted the first anti-stalking laws. I used to have a stalker. Well, a couple. They were never quite right, but I guess that goes with the territory, eh? This one kid would come into the store I worked in and go all the way to the back and just stare at me. Creepy. Another guy used to follow me around and once he came to my home and knocked on the door. I answered and he asked if I was home. I said no. He asked who I was and I told him I was my sister.

Some guy went crazy in a Californian McDonald's in 1984. He killed 21 people and injured 19 others before being shot and killed by the police. That was the first time I had heard of such madness. Why would you kill people enjoying their Big Macs? People in McDonald's are just hanging out, maybe having a hankering for some of the tasty french fries. Truly, McDonald's has the best french fries. (Except I hate how the grease coats the roof of my mouth.) You know, I have never had a Big Mac.

And Kobe Bryant was charged with what would inevitably cost him a really big diamond today in 2003.

Happy Birthday to: Vin Diesel. (I saw parts of xXx the other day. Thanks again for making that.), Kristen Bell. (When does the next season of Veronica Mars start? I hate the lack of summer programming.), Torii Hunter (Go Twins- that's for Marci), and Joe Torre. (I dreamed he was the principal of my high school once. Strange. I know.)

FYI: Today is World Kissing Day. Get out there and git to work! Lips are free all day.

Welcome to Club Church!

I was at my church council meeting yesterday and the discussion was how to get more young people to join the church. My only thought was get some hot girls in there. Boys will follow. And if the girls are nice in addition to being pretty, it will make other girls come, because nice, pretty girls make other girls feel more beautiful.

Buggie's beauty corner

I am going to tell you of some of my favorite beauty products. Lucky!

• Mascara: I have been on the hunt for the best mascara since I first bought that little green and pink container from Maybelline. It is not the best, but if you have pretty, naturally long and curled eyelashes, it will work just fine. I have tried Lancome, Chanel, Shiseido, Dior, Benefit, Vincent Longo, Paula Dorf.... Well hell, you name it, I've tried it. The important thing to know about my eyelashes is that they are straight. Really straight. And stubborn. Hmm, kind of like me. I curl them with my Shu Uemura eyelash curler and they are beautiful. But if I put any of the aforementioned masacaras on my lashes, they are straight again. Sucks! The only mascara I have found that keeps my curl is Shu Uemura's basic mascara. Don't believe the curling mascara crap. It is not true. If your eyelashes are like mine, buy this.
• Let's go shop at Origins for a moment. This may be the best store in the world. They have a pumice stone that does not crumble. Everyone should have one of these in their shower to attack the skank that is called foot. Since having one, my feet are soft and supple. Mm, hmm. Seriously, though.. Best pumice stone I have ever come across. Also, Origins is home to the most yummy scented lotions and soaps. I really love the Ginger Bar. It is the hugest bar of soap you will ever see! Their whipped body cream will keep your skin soft all day. Also, I recently tried their "No Deposit shampoo" which is a clarifying shampoo and topped that off with "Rich Rewards" conditioning treatment, and my tresses have never been so glorious. Wow, I really love Origins. They have great stuff. You can do no wrong there. (Can't think of a great gift? Go to Origins. Everyone likes that stuff. I even got my ex hooked on it. And Jen gave me some great stuff for my birthday!)
• The prettiest toenail color is by OPI, called "I'm not really a waitress".But some of their best names are: "Miso Happy with this Color" and "Don't Wine, Yukon Do it". They even have one called "Mrs. O'Leary's BBQ, which ain't right. It's funny, but not right. I want to name nail polish for OPI.
• By now I am sure everyone knows how great MAC's Studiofix and Spice lip liner are, right? Keep in mind that Whirl is a great lip liner, too.
• Fresh has the best hand cream. It costs a half million dollars, but makes skin so soft and has the best scent I have ever come across. And while we are shopping at Fresh, here are my directions for a great at home facial with Fresh products.

Wash your face with your regular cleanser and splash clean with water. Dry your face and then spray it with Rose Marigold Floral Water. Apply the Sugar Face Polish to your face and exfoliate gently. Place two chamomile teabags in a big bowl with hot water and steam your face for 3 minutes. (Yes, with the sugar scrub on your face.) Wash the scrub off and respray your face with the floral water. (This keeps your skins nice and hydrated.) Then apply the Umbrian Clay Face treatment. You can either use the Umbrian Clay Treatment Bar, or the Umbrian Clay Face Treatment. (Marci has the bar and she says it lasts forever! Plus, you can use it as a spot treatment.) Leave the clay treatment on your face for 5 minutes, and wash off. Again, spray your face with the floral water. Next comes the Rose Face Mask. Leave this on for ten minutes. This stuff is great because it really rehydrates your skin, especially after the clay treatment sucked out all the yuck. Marci likes to put the rose mask on top of the clay mask. I say, try both ways and see what works better for ya. Wash the rose mask off. Spray again with the floral water, apply afantastic moisturizer. I like the Night Essential enriched moisturizer from Shiseido. Then spend the rest of your day relaxing, eating popsicles on the couch watching the Family Guy.

Ok, I am spent, and I probably lost all three of my male readers.

BU

I am reading articles about how my school, Boston University, deflates grades. One article states that it is easier to get an A at Harvard than a B at BU. That's crazy. An article in the New York Times states that BU is trying to maintain a high standard. Unfortunately, other schools don't have the same standards and this makes BU students look like they are not as intelligent as students from other colleges.
This may not seem that interesting to you, but it sure is to me. I have been busting my butt and that B+ I got in American History still ticks me off. But if BU deflates grades? Then my A, A-, B+, A- and A are not looking so shabby. But how do I tell Dartmouth what BU is doing?

My latest bedfellow..

When I was a little bug, I was terrified of this book. My mother thought this was hilarious. I used to scream every time I saw it.
I found the book recently in my mom's library and had to laugh at the fact that someone had drawn mustaches on some of the monsters. When we were in Boston a few weeks ago, my mother came to me where I was standing in line to get tour tickets with a great humored smile upon her face. She told me she saw something in the museum store that she needed to get for me, but she wanted me to see it first. So off we went, tour tickets in hand, to see this thing that apparently amused her so. She had to buy me a stuffed animal. She bought me Bernard. He sleeps in my bed with me now. I am not afraid of where the wild things are anymore. He keeps me safe.

Tales from the 'vator

This morning I did what I do every morning, climbed into the elevator. Alone inside, the doors slammed shut. There I was. Trapped. Alone. I pressed my floor and Otis began to ascend. But I got to thinking. Why do we allow ourselves to be caught in these little boxes? I tried to pry the doors open mid-ride and they would not budge. So I looked around and pondered how I would escape, should we suddenly stop moving. The walls are smooth and there are no escape exits. When we first moved to this building, I was in the elevator and it made crunchy sounds between several of the floors. Then my co-worker was in it and it suddenly dropped two floors. One guy was trapped for 5 hours. They gave him a gift certificate to a restaurant for his trouble. Um, that happens to me, and I'll want a new car.
I have never liked elevators. Creepy boxes that everyone stands facing forward without conversation or eye contact. It's weird. The elevator at the Holocaust Museum is exceptionally creepy. It slams shut with authority and once inside, you are in a dark metal box with rivets. Terrifying.
My boss and I were in a packed elevator one time and someone farted. Loud and squeaky. We busted out laughing. We were the only ones who did. We had tears streaming down our faces by the time the elevator door open and we could pile out.
Once I was leaving the building and got into the elevator alone. I decided that it was a good place to let out a little tension, otherwise known as gas.. GOOD LORD! It stank so bad. That may have been the longest elevator ride of my life. I was slowly losing oxygen. I was terrified that someone would get onto the elevator and know. But luckily, I made to the lobby without further incident. As the doors prepared to open, I braced myself for the inevitable entrance of someone going up. I thought I might say, P.U. I think there is something wrong with this elevators digestive tract. But luck was with me and no one was there to witness what I could do.

I don't understand why people get into the elevator and then turn to face the door. I tried getting in and just stay facing the back, but people thought that was very strange and they were uncomfortable.
You know what I really hate? Is when people jump in the elevator. Stop it! we are going to go plummeting to our deaths!
Some bits of advice. If the elevator does drop, don't jump. It won't save your life. You should lie down in the center of the floor, flatten your body (though the debris may do this for you) and cover your head.

Here are some fun things to do in an elevator.

Today in history- July 12

In 1933, Congress passed the first US federal minimum wage law that paid workers 33 cents per hour. Woo. (Hey, what ever happened to the cent symbol?)
My first job paid me $4.00 an hour. I worked behind the counter of a photo lab and rang up people's pictures and dusted frames. I even got to develop film and take passport photos every now and then. That was my first job. (4 bucks an hour. How did that satisfy my Hostess cupcake addiction of 1988?)

Tonight in 1979, there was mayhem in Comiskey. Some braniac thought it would be a great idea to have a promotion that would allow people to bring their disco records to the ballpark in exchange for a 98 cent ticket to the game. It was estimated that maybe 5,000 people would come, but 50,000 showed up, clamoring over the walls to get into Comiskey. Harry Caray sat in the box and commented along with Jimmy Piersall about the "strange people" afoot in the park. The DJ who promoted the event went out to the field with a "bomb" to destroy the disco records which ripped a hole into the outfield and seemed to invite the fans onto the field to start their own little fires. Caray and Piersall used the PA system to ask the fans to leave, but "Holy Cow!" it took Chicago police and their riot gear to do it. The White Sox had to forfeit the game to the Tigers because their manager would not let them onto the field as he felt it to be too dangerous. It was the only game the Tigers had ever won. (Just kidding. They are actually pretty good this year.)

Alphabet series - W

Walter Stark was in my English class in the 7th grade. I guess I was a bit of a smartass in that class because I recall more time in the hallway than in my seat. I also wrote an essay one time that ended up being one really long run-on sentence and my teacher wrote as a critique that "One sentence does not a paragraph make." I hated this statement of hers so much that 21 years later I can still repeat it verbatim.
Walter was short and looked like a character on the Little Rascals. He had black hair that stood up straight along his severe side-part and so many freckles. He was the one who named me "Bugeater". Because I had such a crush on him, (yes, my taste in men has always been a little wonky... First crush-Phil Collins.) I decided to like my new nickname as opposed to come completely unglued and hence began the Bug. Bug stuck and was cemented by my days at Bennigan's where my name had simply too many letters in it for the general populous of the restaurant. (Though we had nametags that were erasable and my name changed every day. One day I wrote "tired" on my nametag and people asked how to pronounce my name and so I told them Ty-Red. And they found it to be so exotic.)
At the seventh grade dance, I asked Walter to dance with me. I think he may have, or else it was a traumatic experience that I have shoved from my memory because he laughed at me. Don't quite recall.
Anyway, I am Buggie because of a short, dark-haired boy with a mazillion freckles. Walter.

They are showing mooovies on that flight!

I love the Home Run Derby! It's like field day for the really big kids. HR Derby is where I first discovered that Jim Thome lisps and that Mike Piazza has a kind of unfortunate giggle. (He was in the broadcast booth...) Speaking of MP, I am a little mad at you for not playing Friday. I came all the way to see you. (All the three miles to the stadium!) I know that what we had is over, but aren't we at least on good terms? I mean, sooo many years of my life, Mike.
I remember field day at my elementary school. I think I still have whatever pathetic ribbons I may have won for the three-legged race, or that balancing an egg on a spoon thing. But what I remember most is when we found a baby bird that had been mauled by a cat and we called the Humane Society. (Though I remember it as a bird specialist. Who knows who came.) And then some kids shot a squirrel with a BB gun. (Ralphie: [after BB gun shot bounces off target and hits his face] Oh my god, I shot my eye out!)
One time these men were playing softball at the Junior High and I got their autographs. Cool, huh? I think that I may have thought they were having the HR Derby RIGHT THERE! In my home town!!! On the patchy grass up the hill from my elementary school.
I was not a sports savvy kid.
Anyway, maybe we could have a field day at the BBQ this year? My mom has a whiffle bat. It might be a little jacked as I am sure I have used it to attack innocent bystanders. But that just adds to the fun, no?
I will totally kick your asses collectively! And proudly strut with all the ribbons and medals I will win. Because I will cheat like no one has ever cheated before.

More proof- But it is blacker than it looks. Yeouch!

My feet's impression of lobsters. Look! The toes are the claws!

Damaged goods!

I'm battered and bruised! My vacation damaged me.
On Sunday, we went biking and so I had socks and shoes on. I expertly applied sunscreen to every naked part of my body, including under straps. Having learned my lesson with my racing stripe of a sunburn on my knee, I carefully attacked my largest organ with strong protection. Alas, not my feet.
After the strenuous bike ride, where I so powerfully demonstrated my extreme lack of being in shape, we took to the kayak. Marci wanted to go up to the room where we could get flip-flops and put the sneakers away, but I said, Marci! Why bother walking the 42 miles (because our room was sooo far away- probably because they could tell when we checked in what kind of troublemakers we are!) to our room, when we can drop the shoes in a locker and be barefoot. She agreed that this was a most brilliant plan and off we went... on tip toe... stones hurt fragile, delicate city feet. Soon we were safely ensconced in a blue kayak for me and a yellow one for Marci. We paddled away with bad posture and feet in the water. (By the way, Marci still owes me an ice cream cone for not tipping my kayak.) If only Harley, our kayak master, could have seen us. (His guidance was "Good posture and keep your legs straight in the kayak." Oops.) Aimlessly paddling through calm waters, we found some friends on a pirate ship. (Pirate because someone had fashioned a skull and crossbones flag, and ship=boat..) True to pirate form, they hijacked us and fed us beer and food. The kayaks found new masters. New masters that sank the blue one three times. In the meantime, unprotected feet turned bright red. The SPF 4 I found did nothing to protect them. After several hours in the sun, I had cooked lobsters for feet and a storm was rolling in. Marci and I, however, could not leave the pirate ship as her life vest was on another boat. We sent a jet ski off to retrieve it and paddled to shore. We were safely inside as the storm released raindrops as big as the lake itself! The pirate ship was not as lucky as somehow they managed to explode their engine.
Damage: 2 burned feet.

On Monday, we commandeered the pool at midnight with some friends. The constant sliding from hot tub to pool destroyed several shins. I have bruises on both of mine and Marci had abrasions. But what I noticed today is that my sunburned right foot is black, too. I have the biggest bruise I have ever seen (save for the time I fell down the concrete stairs at my grandparents house many years ago) on the upper inside part of it.
Damage: 2 bruised shins and a bruised foot.

I think I am into extreme sports, ya'll!

Today

Yay vacation! Away from the everyday with my two best girls. I appreciate all the support on the ex, but I am done talking about it. Regardless of the situations, the final outcome is the way it is, and I am so happy with where my life is going that but for that brief moment of Ah Bugger chatter, I don't want to discuss it anymore.
I am on VACATION! And my knee is sunburned. I dunno how I got every other part of me covered in sunscreen and missed my knee, but I can tell you applying that stuff properly works!