Below are the 19 most recent journal entries recorded in burzuaz's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, January 6th, 2010
5:33 pm	It's all good. Variation on a Nightmare: Woke up screaming after a dream-snake descended upon my head at 2:15 this morning. Because spiders are so passe, my subconscious mind decided to up the ante and go reptilian. (This is the second dream involving snakes that I've had this week. Sunday's feature presentation involved me witnessing Steve Irwin's death by python, then being appointed head of his post-mortem archival team and subsequently dumped by Jon, after the latter became jealous of my new career. The dream ended with me introducing my new boyfriend - Miss Jay from America's Next Top Model - to my parents. With [deity] as my witness, I am not making a single syllable of this up.) Goddamn, I need an exorcism.But I digress. The Joy of NathanWoke up early on Saturday morning with the intent to visit my neighborhood's farmer's market. Midway through what was otherwise a very pleasant stroll, the skies opened and I found myself involuntarily participating in a wet tee-shirt contest. Regardless, hell hath no fury like a determined(/hungry) Rachel; I kept walking and loaded myself up with fresh apples, string beans, cilantro, jalapeno peppers, kale and my very first eggplant...Me, with Eggplant and New(ish) Bangs...which I proceeded to eat.Get in mah belly!Spent the remainder of my luscious rainy Saturday baking almond biscotti and knitting my Orangina, which - while not the most flattering garment to date - brings me joy, as it's my first lace piece. Behold my incredible vanishing curves! Lace DetailLater that evening, finally made it to the new Rock and Roll Hotel (Grand Opening #5) with Nina, where we met up with Christina and Sarah and danced our little arses off until 3:00a the next morning. En route home, the following conversation transpired:NINA: I'm drunk! (accusatory) You're going to put this in your LiveJournal, aren't you? You're going to write "Nina was drunk!" and everyone will think that I was drunk.RACHEL: I would never do that.Woke up with a bit of a hangover ("Rachel was drunk!") a scant handful of hours later. Ah, well. Nina and I indulged in fabulous vegan brunch (veg-chili over scrambled tofu and topped with soy cheddar...ideal) at Asylum and subsequently off-loaded some old clothes at the Mustard Seed. I sold $38 worth of stuff and bought $60+ of loveliness home. It's a vicious cycle.Dropped Nina off around 2:30p and arrived home to find an unexpected (but entirely welcome) Jon on my futon, watching the Game Show Network. Despite the overwhelming need to drop trou and let go of a million beer shits (sorry) that very instant, I was delighted. My boy had returned from a few gigs in PA (where his cell phone remains, exact location unknown) earlier that morning and been patiently waiting on my futon ever since. I greeted him with sloppy chili-breath kisses, cue conversation:JON: So, we went to a strip club on Friday night...RACHEL: It's cool. I got smoochie with my friends on Saturday.JON: Well, alright then.Even Stevens. I adore this man.We then proceeded to have what was probably most amazing day of our entire relationship. I can't adequately express it in words, but we were so connected and in sync; it was just...intense and beautiful. I fell even harder in love with Jon that night and - by his own admission - so did he. Absolutely incredible. Abbreviated mush out of respect for your gag reflexes. Instead: Pictures! Pretty!I live in the basement apartment of a gorgeous house built in 1865. We support Linda Cropp!My front door. NSP expresses frustration at being left inside while Mommy takes pictures.From NSP's perspective.The feline has grown weary of this shit and loves on some shoes, instead.Look, bezigebij! I have access to a garden!Suspect that my extended stroll through the rain on Saturday may have resulted in a bit of a cold. The nose runs and the throat aches...so is life. As always, here is the requisite apology for being a shitty LJ'er: I'm sorry. Still without Internet connection at home, still relying on periods of work-slack to catch up on everyone else. I am determined, though... (Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 5th, 2010
3:54 pm	Wild Kingdom: Basement Edition I regularly dream of spiders, scripted as follows: Dream!Rachel is slumbering, when - *cue Jaws-appropriate soundtrack* - arachnids of ungodly sizes, legs a-wiggle, descend from the ceiling towards my horrified face. The ensuing response typically involves a) screaming until I wake up and b) fleeing from the bed in a blind panic, bruising knee-caps and shins on whatever obstacles(/walls) block my escape from the bedroom. Jon bore witness to such a fit last Friday night (though I don't remember it, he says that I was shouting at him to save me from the spiders) and NSP - poor snugglebutt - was unconsciously flung from the safety of my armpit to the floor on Monday. I suspect that the increasing frequency of these dreamsnightmares coincides with my new basement-dwelling lifestyle, which - while super-cute - is an apparent haven for bug-a-boos. NSP has proven to be a reasonably effect bug-prevention tool - often found in feline rapture, bug-parts dangling from his whiskers - but a girl can only ask so much of her cat. (Read: NSP cannot reach the ceiling.) Thus, within the first week of my habitation, I was already bribing the UPS man into my living room in the hopes that he would dispose of an epic - (a diameter of nearly twelve centimetres! and eight legs, people...EIGHT!) - spidey on the ceiling.My preferred method of pest removal involves Tupperware, as I'm afraid that squashing the offending parties would kill my vegan street cred. (Though, in accordance with the "natural order" of things, I have been known to point out critters to the ever-hungry NSP.) Alas, my [reluctant] good will is one-sided; I have since learned that certain insects - house centipedes, for example - do not respond well to confinement. And tend to move very fast. Ditto with spider crickets, a type of insect that I was formally introduced to earlier this morning. Crickets appear innocuous enough - I've no qualms about scooping them up in my hands - but spider crickets are unscoopable fuckers with a penchant for jumping. That said, today's morning routine involved several minutes of manic head-shaking (accompanied with the default shrieks-of-bug-induced-terror), as I was certain that the bitch had jumped straight into my hair.I shake out my shoes every morning.An irrational phobia? Absolutely. Spiders are teensy and Rachel is not-so-much. Still, I'd argue that logic holds no weight when it comes to things with eight legs. Unholy beasts.--------------------------On the brighter side of things, despite finding true peace in the hundreds of items donated to our local Salvation Army during last month's move, I filled up my car with happy thrift finds during today's lunch break: Gratuitous clothes, Madonna's "True Blue" album on vinyl, a VHS copy of "Muriel's Wedding", the Rock's autobiography, a three-book biography on Hitler (justified by my pretending that these are a gift for the Jon), a souvenir pie plate (hurrah for South Carolina!), cheapie costume jewelry and a pair of high-top Chucks spray-painted gold, black and red. Because you never know when the need will come up. Mine is a shameless addiction. (Comment on this)
Sunday, January 3rd, 2010
8:20 am	Well...dang. In the span of five magical seconds, I successfully deleted every single comment to my previous entry. Behold my super-sexy LiveJournal savvy. So! Retrieved from email, in accordance with my vow to be a better commenter:plainmabel: The UPS man was very accommodating and did, in fact, enter into my living room and dispose of the offending spider. Whether this went against UPS policy or not remains unknown; however, only a cold-hearted bastard would have left me alone in my spider-fueled hysteria.valeriezam: In my book ("The Collected Works of Rachel Dean, Volume I: Buggies Suck"), ants are on par with spiders, because they run in packs and eat my sugar. And I'm quite fond of my sugar. Sympathies, madame.aprotean: Ugh...your Chris story has added to my pre-existing crazy cat-lady paranoia. Poor kittenhead. Sigh...I guess this means that Rachel will be prying said spider-parts from NSP's jaws during future feasts, lest my boy fall victim to bug-induced cooties. Dude. Gross.mylovemydarling: Sold. As soon as I find $15, that bug-gun is mine. On an unrelated note: You wouldn't know it from the lack of commenting, but I really am enjoying your entries these days. Seriously, those mad writing skillz are humbling.fanglord2: Poor Joe...I definitely sympathize with his spider hallucinations. I am relieved to know that I'm not the only crazy one out there. As for spider crickets: Their legs are much longer (thus the comparison with a spider) and they jump. Very high. Terrifying little bastards.lauren_urban: I encountered my first roach about a year ago. Apparently, those fucks are jumpers, as well. (Cue reflexive shaking-out of hair.)nakedfotolady: I have a plug-in in my kitchen, but may have to invest in more. Like, one for every outlet in my damn apartment. Ugh. Unrelated: Knitting? Hampden? Someday?minkey_winks: COME BACK TO ME!Arguably, I have too much time on my hands. (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 2nd, 2010
6:36 am	Quickest LJ in the West Super-stealthy entry from my magnificent Office!Cube (now with functioning door!), as at-home Internet connection has yet to be established. Please note that this entry is intended for timeline purposes only in the event that I am arrested (homicide, indecent exposure, et cetera...) and need to call for an alibi. I repeat: Nothing particularly interesting to see here, folks.ThursdayDrove out to the Old Town Theatre (praised for it's comfy old couches and beer taps conveniently located in front of the screen) in Alexandria for Johnny Rockett's screen debut in The 8th Plague. Eyebrows raised for the experience of watching said Rockett be gutted onscreen while he munches popcorn on an adjacent couch. Further raised for his sexy-sex scene. Met a few more of Jon's co-worker friends, who appear to enjoy both me and my ass (as evidenced by its impromptu grabbing, times three). (On a related note, a gay black man has officially approved my ass as Apple Bottom jeans-friendly. Pleased, I bow to his superior authority.) Good times.FridayReturn from stressful day in the office to find vegan goodies from the Sticky Fingers Bakery in my fridge, signed with the note "I Love Rach!" Jon feeds me, therefore I love Jon! Exclamation point! Happily, I curl up in a hot bath with an oatmeal cream bar and some choco-brownie awesomeness, and am back to Zen(/bloat) by the time Jon arrives. We are both rather tired and pledge ourselves to an evening of lame-assery. Following the debrief on last week's short-lived fight (the second in our 11-month relationship, fueled by alcohol and very little reason), I teach him how to make spicy potato wedges (as his culinary abilities are limited to microwaved items at present) and we devote hours to Mario Party by way of GameCube. Turbo-dorks? Damn right.SaturdayOriginal plans involved catching ex-Monkee Peter Tork's early performance in Virginia, followed by booty-shaking at the Rock and Roll Hotel with friends...but Jon forgot that the Pietasters were scheduled to play at a wedding in Virginia, so I decide to drive back to St. Mary's County and visit my neglected family/dachshund. Because I like them. Mom dubs my hair "Not bad in person" by way of greeting.SundayFamily. Mexican food. Digestive bliss. Got lost on the return trip and involuntarily took a scenic route through Southeast DC, an area that a) I painstakingly avoid and b) am therefore entirely unfamiliar with. Ugh. Jon shows up shortly after my stressful arrival home with a map of DC and explains SE in simple terms. We venture out (via feet!)(because the novelty never wears off!) for beer and falafels and snuggle down with Bladerunner and the NSP. In summary: Utopia. Hope everyone had a stellar weekend.I owe comments!Edit: Via AIM:Rachel: Ow, crampies. OW, CRAMPIES! (** Editor's Note: I have cramps. No lie.) Jessica: :-( I sorry!R: You did not cause crampies. Or...did you?J: you will never know for certainR: You are diabolical. Nice to Accounting, vicious to friends.R: I'm onto your little game.J: keep your friends close and enemies closer. you are friend, therefore, i can treat you more shittilyJ: friend leniency is a mofo (Comment on this)
Friday, January 1st, 2010
5:53 am	In which we are humbled. Neglected LiveJournal, ahoy!Life is extremely good these days. Extremely. Added Bonus: I have almostbutnotquite trained myself to appreciate said goodness at face value, versus constantly trying to find some element of imperfection (however minor) to keep things "grounded". Finally recognized this behavior for what it was (i.e. ridiculous and unnecessary sadism), quit stressing over the petty and inconsequential and am now embracing the happy shit, for however long it decides to stick around. So...yeah. Viva.[At times] Overwhelming flood of contentment directly coincides with my move to the District, but runs well beyond that. This life it is still relatively new, a work-in-progress that commenced slightly over two years ago, when I broke up with Bill and found myself alone, friendless and struggling to pay rent. It's taken me this long to find a balance in life that represents the best of who I am and want to be. So, profound meaning is assigned to seemingly simple things, like moving to a new city, overcoming insecurities to sing karaoke (last week: "It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)"), lounging around with my amazing boyfriend and equally amazing feline and finding myself in the company of folk who have shown me infinite patience through the worst of these past few years and genuinely care; it wasn't so long ago that I had nothing. And now I have nearly everything that I could possibly want (and arguably more than I deserve). Incredible. But I digress:* Still dragging my feet against setting up my Internet at home, hence absence of online presence. Give me a week or two to pull together some start-up fees and I promise to be less of a negligent bastard.* No Internet connection translates to reliance on crappy camera phone pictures. Take, for example, this picture of my new quasi-hipster bangs. (When in Rome...) Or this picture of a certain demon-cat, who has taken to climbing atop the accent wall in my bedroom and pouncing on my head at 3:00a. (Walls bare, as this was taken shortly after the move.) Behold the close-up. See? Demon.* More to come when work permits, but - in the meantime - I hope everyone is doing well. (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 31st, 2009
1:27 am	This is not my beautiful house. Aah...seasonal depression, my old arch-nemesis. And here I armed with my trusty infrared lamp and a militia of Vitamin B supplements was just basking in the conviction that I had escaped your nefarious grasp this year. Now, it appears that I have been mistaken. Well played.Present life is wonderful...maybe even perfect. Even so, Ive the nagging suspicion that I should be hiding under the covers somewhere, crying over stupid things like puppies and old people and tampon commercials. This is absurd. I need a fucking hug. And for Manager E. to stop chewing potato chips with her mouth open. Fun Facts:* Cute little nostril piercing acquired slightly over a week ago. When not strategizing how best to clear out my congested sinuses, it brings me great joy.* Finally saw [one of] Jons band[s], The Five Maseratis, perform in D.C. last night. Let it be said that they put on a damn fine show, all girlfriend biases aside. Still: The sight of Jon playing his bass on stage makes me think naughty, naughty thoughts. Shh. Its totally a secret.* On the subject of lad: Mmm...tasty. Made the pilgrimage out to IKEA obviously, the make-it-or-break-it point in every relationship last week and emerged intact(/with a great deal of Scandinavian candy), which bodes well. He valiantly sought to provide me with owl pillow love, but was ultimately unsuccessful. Still, I appreciated the attempt.* Nathan Scott Phillips is a cuddle monster.Decidedly-Not-So-Fun Facts:* Work is overwhelming. Jesus.* Grandma continues to lose her shit. Aunt Jon has advanced/deteriorated to Stage 4 cancer and Aunt Lois 10-year battle has taken a particularly nasty turn, as well. Okay, were mortal. I get it. Now...stop? Please?* I just burned my tongue on the hot chocolate that was supposed to make everything better; that kind of defeated the purpose. Jeff is having birthday beer and tacos tonight, and Jessica and Nice!Eric may well be joining me in the goodness; perhaps I'll transfer my hot-choco faith to that and just hope for the best.Sorry that I've been a lame-ass LJer lately. Bah, humbug. (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 29th, 2009
9:34 pm	On meeting Grandma for the first time. Merry post-[insert holiday of preference], y'all.Back from the homestead (former) as of 2:00p today, and am presently feeling a) bummed, b) contemplative and c) very, very mortal. Despite a visit largely classified as Good, no amount of seasonal warm/fuzzies could cover up the fact that my grandmother has - mentally - all but completely disappeared. Understandably, this [alarmingly rapid] disintegration is having a profound and depressing effect on her family, especially on Mom, who - along with my Aunt Carole, representing the only two of Grandma's nine children who are willing to make the sacrifice, andafuckyoutotheremainder - has assumed the responsibility of caring for her 88-year old, Alzheimers-/dementia-plagued diabetic mother. The suspicion is that, when Grandma lost 2/3rds (seriously) of her blood last week due to internal bleeding, this may have triggered a stroke of sorts, which resulted in extreme memory loss. Seriously, I had to be reintroduced to her on Christmas. Reintroduced. I lived next to Grandma for 20 years. I grew up in her house and in her yard, and - as recently as late August - was responding to her inquiries re: Columbia, my job, apartment, life. Out of her 25+ grandchildren, I am one of three favorites (to include my sister, also requiring a reintroduction) specifically called out in her will. And yet my existence is a mystery to her. After Mom explained that I was her oldest daughter, Grandma stated that my face "looked familiar", but it was obviously that she was only being polite. Unnerving. While visiting Grandma typically involved a hug or two, I held back. After all, I was a complete stranger to her. And she didn't recognize her house of 60+ years, mistaking it as a nursing home (which was bizarre in itself, as Grandma has never even been to a nursing home) and demanding to be taken to the house that she grew up in as a girl. Her short-term memory is shot; she couldn't remember who had been to visit her earlier that day or whether she had eaten lunch. She cries when she gets confused and then Mom cries, because she doesn't know what she's supposed to do. For now, she's constantly walking around with a baby monitor - (Grandma lives next door during the day and stays at my parents' house during the nights) - listening to hear if Grandma chokes or falls or calls one of my aunts or uncles and asks to be picked up from the "nursing home". The baby monitor is on throughout the night and, if Mom has to leave to go to the store, Aunt Carole takes over. Mom wakes up early in the morning to check on Grandma and then again in the evenings, and takes her dinner and medication and - once again - patiently explains who she is and where Grandma is, all to the soundtrack of humming baby monitor. This is her life. See, and I don't even like Grandma all that much. When I was a kid, making Jell-O and playing Chinese Checkers with her, sure...I was okay with her. As an adult, however, I came to realize that she was a mean-tempered, racist, manipulative bitch who treated Mom like crap...and then I didn't dig her all that much, truth be told. So, now, I'm having a difficult time applying these feelings to this pitiful old woman, and so - surprise of surprises - the whole thing has me more sympathetic and upset than I'd expect. Seeing Mom go through all of this just makes it a thousand times worse. Christ...I can't even decide whom I'm more sympathetic towards: Grandma or Mom. They've both drawn a pretty rough lot.So...happy things, happy things: Grandma aside, I did have a nice holiday break. Spending time with the folks, sibling and dachshund is always good times. Even so, it feels nice to return to my apartment and Nathan Scott Phillips (who, at time of writing, is trying to nudge the iBook away in order to reclaim my lap). The Jon has called me from Texas almost every night since he left; holy goats, do I miss that boy. Scheduled to return to work tomorrow morning, which I'm strangely looking forward to, as E. is out of the office all week and I'm far more productive in her absence. For now, there's a X-mas tree to disassemble, ordered to be restored in the ol' habitat and a neglected feline to shower with both affection and apology. Will catch up on you lot in the morning. G'night! (Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 28th, 2009
7:15 pm	It's all good, all of the time. Still on hiatus, but my wee system is about to explode from all the goodness that has taken place during the past 24-hours. It's overwhelming.* My mother received the results of her biopsy today, and - cue a choked-up response that feels suspiciously like tears - it's negative. Yay.* Jon and I went to see The World-Famous Pontani Sisters, Los Straitjackets and Kaiser George with Jessica and Nice!Eric in Annapolis last night. Good times. When we returned to my apartment, Jon and I exchanged gifts, as he is spending the holidays with his family in Texas. (A few gifts remain MIA on both sides and will be surrendered, post-holidays. One of my knitting projects - impossible to complete prior to Xmas - was put on hiatus in favor of a more time-friendly recreation of Mike Nesmith's signature green hat, and I've just picked up el Projecto Impossible yet again. On his end of things, Jon is still working on one of my presents - which involves sewing! intrigue! - and the other one "caught on fire" (!!!) and needs to be re-done. Ponder that one for a bit.) He loved his hat and Nesmith-shirt (Monkees theme unintentional) and the Gameboy Pimp-Out, which ended up including over 750 original NES games. (Sweet!) As for his affectionate girlfriend: I received Knitorama, Saint Morrissey, and a vintage receiver (circa 1974) for my turntable, which he restored and made awesome. Which - it bears emphasis - is just so, so kick-ass; my turntable was previously hooked up to a shitty Sony stereo that did absolutely nothing for sound quality. The boy also did his part to make said receiver aesthetically pleasing, priming and painting it a lovely hot pink and re-labeling the knobs and dials as he saw fit. (In an endearing Spinal Tap shout-out, the "Maxximum Volumizer" knob goes up to eleven.) A picture is forthcoming.* Free-range Gush: Throughout the evening, he would spontaneously launch into hug-mode and state exactly how much he was going to miss me. And I was constantly on the receiving end of hugs and kisses and love proclamations aplenty. Do I really need to spell out just how amazing this feels? It's my journal and I can be a walking clich if I want to: He makes my heart, like, swell.* Received my generous bonus check, in addition to a $60 gift certificate and some kind words from both manager and Vice-President, as today marks my one-year anniversary with the company. I've already outlined my Responsible and Adult plans for said bonus check in a previous entry; the summary is that this in conjunction with a newly paid off car is a good push towards being financially healthy for the first time in years. Ive been strained and stressed and struggling for a long time now. Its good to see that come to an end.Many other small happies are contributing to my overall state of bliss, involving eBay wins, incoming packages and impending holiday goodness with the family (not to mention a New Years in the company of my boyfriend). Seriously, I am unaccustomed to life being this good(/void of angst) and have absolutely no idea what to do with it. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 27th, 2009
3:10 pm	Direct from the batcave... For those of you not privy to my last [screened] journal entry, I am a) on a bit of a holiday-/work-induced LJ sabbatical and b) not dead. I present this journal entry - typed by my own decidedly not-dead hands - as evidence of continuing existence. For dead girls cannot type. At least, not particularly well.Good* After five years of payments, my 2000 Chevy Prizm is just that...mine, thus freeing up an additional $265.33 per month. This girl - who has been steadily digging herself out of considerable debt (think tens of thousands, the majority of which were incurred as a stupid teenager/20-year old) - looks forward to actually maintaining a savings account for the first time in five years. Baby steps.* Similarly, an impending annual raise and X-mas bonus has set my financially-beleagured heart a-flutter. * Had a good conversation with my manager - the infamous E. - in which I outlined my list of work-related grievances and told her the direction in which I wanted my job to go. She listened and agreed with the majority of what I had to say. The end results are: administrative support for the Contracts department (which will alleviate a lot of the crap that falls onto my shoulders, being the youngest/newest member of our three-head team); more management-level responsibilities; and approval to pursue a Master's certificate in Federal Contracting. * Company Holiday Party. A nice evening out - all gussied up, and laden with yummy food and alcohol (no expense), at a facility conveniently adjacent to a sweet hotel in downtown Baltimore - with my man? Damn near utopian. Kodak moments are as follows: hor d'oeuvres indulgence; obligatory Prom-night-out shot with Jess and Nice!Eric; and the Jon and I.* The Jon. God damn that boy makes me happy. And - by his constant and oh-so sweet testimonies - I appear to be doing the same for him. So, woot. :)* Nathan Scott Phillips. See Cuteness, the embodiment of. Just don't interrupt his nightly grooming sessions, lest he set you aflame with the power of his devil eyes.* Addictive television - Project Runway and Top Model marathons, specifically - to fuel my knit-focused nights, of which there have been many. Quotas to meet and all.* Holiday goodness. Eee.Bad* Yet another near-death experience for Grandma, who spent a good portion of this week in Intensive Care due to massive internal bleeding. At time of writing, she is being prepared for a few weeks in nursing home rehab. * Finding out - second-hand - that Mom had a growth removed from her uterus. Her doctor is "almost certain" that it's benign, but lab-work has yet to confirm his almost certainty and - until this happens - Rachel-the-Cancer-Phobe remains tense.* It is Friday and yet there are no Krispy Kremes in the office kitchen. Will be more consistent with my entries/comments come the new year. In the meantime, however, hope that everyone is doing splendidly. Happy holidays to you and yours and - most especially - Jerry Falwell. (Comment on this)
Monday, January 26th, 2009
1:42 pm	Love me. Snatched from polyphonicvegan:If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now - (even if we dont speak often) - please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want good or bad BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.When youre finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DONT ACTUALLY remember about you. (Comment on this)
Sunday, January 25th, 2009
11:46 am	Everyone else is doing it Everyone else is doing it... Total comments: 4628 1subpolka1940 2swingingclogs199 3magnolia_5152 4misguided_soul139 5yrushallow138 6thomask118 7bezigebij108 8kateracka106 9lishylooloo86 10fanglord283 11tommybarbarella82 12frecklewonder82 13boogieman76 14chasewaterhouse70 15polyphonicvegan62 16jennsaidso61 17benjiesque55 18lauren_urban49 19mimibing49 20misscupcake48 21just_tonight46 22domanblue46 23pieces2puzzle44 24scarabellum44 25ensenchiridion40 26jetsetter6640 27briarrabbit38 28prolificpanda35 29little_sketchy33 30mylushlife31 31myfirststereo31 32pianoscry30 33flyfarfaraway28 34itsolivia28 35julietori26 36evolwhisper24 37kissandkind21 38brownredhead19 39lightweightkat19 40girlinthemoon18 41tony_laetrile18 42aprotean18 43a118 44badeddiegogo18 45so_freakn_rood18 46tinyshel13 47grapefoot13 48darness12 49galexiegirl11 50spillshercoffee11 51elemmennope11 52enemabagjones10 53palerose10 54lemmata9 55mr_lunch7 56tortishell7 57yaaababee6 58anyasbuttmonkey5 59mylovemydarling5 60artschooldropou5 61nettmaus5 62shmigs5 63ohamber4 64themezzanine4 65jesseesuem3 66cherrystylee33 67astrojetta3 68minkeyhead3 69ineptus2 70whopperdaddy2 71verbify2 72sewsudchic2 73sarahnielson2 74pistolpacknmama2 752hedgehogs2 76lunabruja2 77rollingstolen2 78seasoulsky1 79gary_the_cat1 80micha_231 81plainmabel1 82cimba1 83pippikneesocks1 84mypapercrane1 85myarchway1 86allegraslade1 87phikus1 88lapsedagnostic1 These statistics were generated using LJ Stats. Original idea from scrapdog's LJ Comment Stats Wizard.Briefly plagarizing itsolivia: I've allowed about 85% of my journal to run wild - (that is, unfiltered entries open to the public) - for the benefit of a small population of non-LJ people who I know read my journal. The question is: Who's out there?! Point being: Don't have a LiveJournal? Opt to lurk instead of being on my Friends List? Rock on. Still, I encourage you to abandon all shyness and drop a comment (wee or otherwise) announcing your presence. Say hello, tell me how you found me. For mine is an insatiable curiosity, it is... :)(Hell, even if you are on my Friends List, revisiting how we met - oh, sweet nostalgia! - is still worth the comment.) (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 24th, 2009
8:05 am	NSP vs. Tree As mentioned in my previous entry, this is [presumably] Nathan Scott Phillips' first X-mas experience.Sniffing...Lurking...Undercover with enemy ornaments...Strategizing the attack...First wave!Poke, poke, poke! (Comment on this)
Friday, January 23rd, 2009
6:11 am	Post-Holiday Breather I have a love/hate relationship with my hometown. A great deal of nostalgia is built up in twenty-three years, and - from a safe distance - I think of St. Mary's County with warm-and-fuzzies, especially when it comes to the small town quirks that my current environment lacks. (For example, the annual post-Thanksgiving tree lighting in the town square. Because it just wouldn't be post-Thanksgiving without watching Santa elevated to tree-level in the bucket of a Bay District firetruck, or watching the "Gracie's Guys and Gals" dance school Nutcracker Suite their asses off in 20-degree weather.) However, while I damn present suburbia for it's absence of soul, I'm quick to damn said hometown for an overdose of the wrong type. More than 48-hours of exposure and I tend to get a bit twitchy; it's always a relief to find myself back in Columbia...sweet, soulless Columbia...Thanksgiving was fantastic. My family (folks and sibling) were joined by Jon (in a tie, no less) and William (Kat's beau, second time around), which went better than anticipated, given the newness of Jon and Mom's firm dislike of William (second time around). We ate, we digested, we Nintendo'd our asses off (reaffirming my status as bad-ass supreme when it comes to Goldeneye; I am unbeatable!) and played board games. Because that's how the Dean clan rolls. Jon had a good time, and the general consensus was that he was "nice" and "funny" and "more lively than the guys you usually date" (per Mom), the latter of which is - upon consideration - quite true. My preferences in men tend to be sharply divided between "assholes" and "old souls"; I haven't ever dated anyone as...well, happy, as Jon. He genuinely loves his life, and this simple fact brings out really good things in me. The remainder of my weekend involved family tree decorating, the aforementioned rendezvous in the square, and ill-fated gingerbread house construction, capped off by an old-school argument with Mom. It's so irritating to be pulled into such senseless, ridiculous drama, especially when my life - away from the homestead, at least - has been so carefully maintained at Zen level. I used to be a very, very angry girl, and have put tremendous effort towards moving past that; I hate it when folk try to provoke and bring me down. Sigh.Returned home on Saturday and decorated my own humble little abode with X-mas goodness. This is my first holiday with the feline and - after waking up with several tree ornaments relocated to the foot of my bed - I anticipate that it will be an interesting one. Kept myself occupied with domestic nonsense today, and polished off my first ever not-a-hat-or-scarf knitting project (more specifically: poncho for Mom). Jon's schedule - coupled with an exploded hot water heater and, subsequently, one sodden basement - killed off tentative plans, so the evening was a solitary one. (Y'know, spare Nathan Scott Phillips and his tree-climbing endeavors.)Hope that everyone had a wonderful holiday. Will catch up on your journals at some point tomorrow, but - in the meantime - sleep! (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 22nd, 2009
1:50 am	I trip the turkey fantastic. Managed a solid 24-hours of [semi-]perfect health last week before falling prey to what appears to be a vicious sinus infection. Gah! Never mind that - in the wake of last month's bronchitis, strep throat and pink eye fiasco - I've been popping antioxidants and immune enhancers like candy; my immune system has - once again - proven itself to be entirely ineffective and entirely...well, stupid. Based on the multitude of tissue boxes that I've taken out in the past few weeks, am beginning to suspect that said stupid immune system has a financial interest in Kleenex. (Formal accusation to follow.) In the absence of paid leave (spare what I've reserved for the upcoming holidays), am determined to overcome biological messies from the discomfort of my own cubicle. Let the people (specifically, co-workers) say: Ugh. Only a quick entry, as I've far too much work to catch up on before heading back to the homestead tomorrow night. Just wanted to wish y'all a happy Thanksgiving (exclamation point!) and briefly applaud Ohio's justice system. This story (pulled from the Smoking Gun's website) is dedicated to yrushallow:NOVEMBER 18--An Ohio woman convicted of leaving dozens of kittens in two parks has been ordered by a judge to herself spend a night alone outdoors so that she can experience what if feels like to be abandoned, albeit only for about a dozen hours. Michelle Murray, 25, last month pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor for dumping the kittens in September. At a hearing yesterday in Painesville Municipal Court, Judge Michael Cicconetti sentenced Murray to 90 days in jail, though she will spend only 14 of those days in custody. Cicconetti ordered her to surrender to park rangers at 6 PM on November 23, when she will be brought to a "remote location" of a local park and left there until "the light of dawn on November, 24, 2005," according to a court judgment. Murray will not be allowed to carry and food or beverages other than water, nor will she be provided with shelter. However, she will be given a "means of communication for emergency purposes only." During the sentencing hearing, Cicconetti said that he wanted Murray to "listen to the coyotes, hear the raccoons in the dark of night." (Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 20th, 2009
11:59 pm	Off Hiatus. I occupy 715 square feet of soulless suburbia, conveniently sandwiched between D.C. (35-minute commute) and Baltimore (20-minute). Am intent on eventually moving to one of these cities; however, an inability to choose between the two has kept me resigned to renewed leases in my home-sweet-rental-home on the fairway. In the past, have typically leaned towards Baltimore (arguably more unique and eccentric than D.C.'s Type-A Govvie infestation), but am starting to open my eyes to the finer points of D.C...Fantastic week. Awesome. Wonderful. In spite of my protests, Jon woke up early each morning in order to drive me to the Metro station, sparing me a 20-minute walk from his house. (Sweet, sweet boy.) One of D.C.'s dominant selling points - to me, at least - is it's public transportation system; I love trains and spending the first 40-minutes of my morning knitting and listening to my iPod on the Metro is infinitely preferrable to crawling along the Interstate in my car. The class itself was unexpectedly very interesting and relevant to my job, and I certainly didn't object to spending a week away from my cubicle. Jon's own work schedule varied - (he works a lot of graveyard shifts) - so there was little danger of overkill. Even so, the two of us did spend a lot of time together and it was perfect. Oh, man...I love that boy. I really do. Am inclined to gush on and on, but - instead - will exercise a little restraint and say that - yo - we're just awesome together, okay? Was supposed to return to work after my exam on Friday, but responsibility was shrugged off in favor of running around the The Maryland Science Center. We watched an Imax movie in 3D and took full advantage of the exhibits (all tailored for children), which was just...fun. He left after lunch this afternoon, and here I sit, alone for the first time in seven days. Strangely enough...I already kind of miss him. Hah.What else? Jon's house is down the street from Nina's, so I spent one night, watching America's Next Top Model(/mourning the loss of Lisa, fuck!) with her and Andrea. The following night, Andrea cut and colored my hair; I am now a "firey redhead" (TM Jon), which was an interesting and ultimately fun shift. The boy will be joining my family for Thanksgiving dinner this upcoming week, which I'm happy about, as I anticipate supreme parental love. (Ditto with the sibling, assuming that she'll be sober enough to appreciate him this time around.) Oh, and I received a call from my auto insurance's legal department, which - a few days later - continues to burn me up. According to one inexplicably stupid Maryland law, all pedestrians injured in car accidents are entitled to full medical pay-offs...which means that - even with a police report stating that she bears full responsibility for the incident - last month's drunkard just cashed in on my policy. And there's the possibility that she may be suing me. Seriously. Even though I lack faith in the American judicial system, I doubt that any competent judge would find me accountable; still, the entire situation is infuriating and just blows my mind. Whatever.The summary is that: Rachel is happy and in love. Nathan Scott Phillips is happy and loves to eat. Rachel knows the FAR like nobody's business and encourages you to send her your questions re: Federal acquisition processes and procedures. Rachel hopes that she won't be sued. And Rachel will be making a strong effort at catching up on your journal entries within the next 48-hours; specifically, once she eats her dinner. (Comment on this)
Monday, January 19th, 2009
9:13 pm	On Hiatus Five [inevitably painful] days of off-site training (involving Federal acquisition regulations...sexy!) loom ahead, hence one involuntary hiatus, as I assume temporary residence at my Metro-friendly(/Internet-lacking) boyfriend's house this week (effective thirty minutes from now). Will catch up with the lot of ye when I return. Fo' shizzle.In lieu of a more substantial update, I give you big horseys and blinding whiteness. (Comment on this)
Sunday, January 18th, 2009
5:59 pm	On being a chaperone at my sister's 21st birthday... Despite my constant condemnation of D.C. week-nights, Sunday morning rolled in to find me drunk and on a dance floor, a cranberry-vodka in one hand and my boyfriend's luscious little ass in the other. Factor in a mess of sequins, a pair of 3" heels and one DJ with a penchant for only the most God-awful pop-music to ever pollute this Earth, and what you get is me...the biggest damn hypocrite on the East Coast. So, the next time that I feel inclined to cast stones at "those D.C. skanks", I will recall my sister's 21st birthday (and the subsequent vomit hurled forth in public bathrooms) and resign myself to throwing only very small stones. Because I have waded in the waters of supreme skankdom...and found them to be surprisingly pleasant. Puke-filled endings aside, the majority of the evening was ridiculously fun. Jon is a foxy little bitch on the dance floor and an absolute sweetheart when it comes to tucking drunk little girls back into their beds. (The exact mechanics of how I exited D.C. and ended up in Jon's bed are shrouded in mystery. My sister - who arguably fared the worst of our group - remains similarly perplexed by her own unconscious departure.) Accompanied by a raging hangover, I had to drag my pathetic little carcass back to the car around 10:00a; the sibling and I were due at our parent's house - 80 miserable miles South - that afternoon. And - dear God - was our drive back to the homestead one of the most unpleasant 1.5 hours of my life. Both parents appeared amused by the sight of their ugly, ugly daughters, and - to my matchless delight - Dad insisted that Kat was the grosser of us two. Hah! Photographic evidence of this debauchery is limited, but here's an endearing image of Jon, taking a bite out of my face. I appear to be enjoying it. Impromptu cannibalism is so sexy.Edit (Further Evidence of Skankery): During his shift tonight, Jon's supervisor kept teasing him about the two of us going at it on the hood of some anonymous sports car on Saturday. Christ...I had completely forgotten about that. Said car was parked directly outside of The Diner and we were commended for our performance (limited to PG-13, thankfully), as witnessed by both wait-staff and customers. Sigh. (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 17th, 2009
2:29 pm	In tribute of a monkey... Fact: On November 5, 1984, my mother successfully ejected one kateracka out into the world, the second (and final) installment of the Dean offspring. Naming privileges were entrusted to my care; however - while winning points for delivering my proposal in song - "Katie Strawberry" was ultimately discarded in favor of the more respectable(/less stripper-esque) "Katherine Marie", an unauthorized revision that torments me to this very day. Said Katherine was an unexpected accident (or "unholy mistake", as I am so fond of reminding her) that - in the years since her arrival - we've all grown to tolerate. And occasionally even love.All bullshittery aside: My sister rocks and the truth is that we get along amazingly, which - at times - defies logical explanation, as the two of us are polar opposites. She's the dark-skinned brunette hailed as gorgeous - that little shit was already well into a C-cup by the time that I finally advanced into B - while I - blue-eyed, oftentimes blonde and eternally incapable of styling my hair - was always applauded for my intelligence. So, Kat had to teach me how to apply eyeshadow, and - in turn - I helped stock her college bookshelf with Ayn Rand and Kurt Vonnegut. She played sports in high school and later coached them, whereas I loathed gym and primarily stuck to the choir and marching band. Kat dances; I flail with no natural sense of rhythm. She's more socially adept than I - cynical hater of mankind - could ever aspire to be. She is a college student, pursuing Photography as her career of choice; I dismissed formal education in favor of working my ass off at a computer. Kat is DJs, strobe lights and girlie cocktails (all conquered with minimum one hour of bathroom preparation), whereas I'm all dive bars, thrift store attire and whiskey on the rocks. Even so, put the two of us together and good times abound. We are bonded by the same weird and generally incomprehensible mentality, and can entertain ourselves for hours (even if surrounding parties don't get us...and they seldom do). She makes me laugh. She makes me proud. I couldn't even imagine what my life - or my eyeshadow application - would be like without the brat. That said, Saturday evening will find me and the sibling - accompanied by a posse of her friends - wandering the bars of Adams Morgan, celebrating my little sister's 21-years of existence. Any and all D.C. residents are encouraged to come and keep me - the sole adult in this party (pending release of Jon from work around 9:45p) - company(/sane). Come Sunday morning, the two of us will be returning to the homestead for parental indulgence and Mom-made birthday cake. Mmm.Happy Birthday, Kat! That I'm subjecting myself to a social scene that I loathe and detest - for you, baby, for you - should be testament enough to how much I love your crazy ass. (Comment on this)
Friday, January 16th, 2009
12:23 pm	Am currently suffocating beneath the obscenely large queue of work that built up during last week's Am currently suffocating beneath the obscenely large queue of work that built up during last week's absence, hence recent LJ silence. Seriously, "overwhelmed" couldn't even begin to cover it. Cue white flag of occupational surrender and maybe a few screams here and there for dramatic purposes...Have purged most of my biological demons, thanks to some hard-core antibiotics, and - spare the Joplin-esque edge to my voice - could actually pass as "healthy" these days. Sadly, Nathan Scott Phillips appears to have caught his own feline version of a cold and has been very lethargic this week. Poor baby.Present work-load and husky man-voice aside, life is beautiful. Lifted my ban on D.C. weekends long enough to toss on a vintage go-go dress and hit a house party in D.C. with Nina and Co. on Saturday night, abandoning it around 3:30a in favor of meeting Jon at his house. (The actual holiday itself was fairly low-key and spent at Nice!Eric's apartment, eating lasagna and watching Weird Science with a few other folk. Far more ideal for a Monday night.)And Jon. Mmm. Was intent on approaching that situation with uncharacteristic restraint - (safeguarding my beleaguered heart and all that) - but cautious approaches have never been my fort, especially when dealing with persons most fabulous. The Jon and I fit together perfectly (more perfectly than with anyone in my past) (absolutely no disrespect to them; its simply a matter of Rachel-compatibility) and when not tormenting myself with the knowledge that I am a crazy bitch who makes boys fall out of love with her seemingly overnight (references available upon request) I am the happiest damn thing on the East Coast. This past weekend, he told me that I am the embodiment of everything that hes been looking for in a girl, and that hes very rapidly falling in love. Holy shit! And - also - woo-hoo!So much more to say, so little time to say it in. Goddamn, will this week ever end? (Comment on this)