Poisonous Points

I'm Back...And This Will NOT Be a Mommy Blog, HOWEVER...

2007-05-20T16:38:00.000-05:00

Hello blogsphere. I have returned. *takes a bow*

This whole "mommy" thing is quite time consuming! But, now that Emma's almost 4 months old, I feel like I can get back to my pre-baby pursuits.

That being said, Phoenix asked if this was going to become a mommy blog. The definitive answer is NO. I can't say I'm not going to share funny, sad, sappy, whatever stories with you all from time to time...but in general, the there's something not quite "poisonous" about how damn cute my daughter is. Plus, I need to talk about something OTHER than how cute she is.

So, I hope you'll all come back and visit from time to time for more Poisonous Points.

P.S. Here's an updated pic of my daughter, because, well, she is so damn cute.

This Time I Have a Good Excuse....

2007-02-13T16:07:00.000-05:00

So, this time I have a good excuse for not posting in awhile. It's not that my muse left me, or that I was just too tied up with work.

Nope, this time, I think you all HAVE to forgive me. After all, I GAVE BIRTH.

Yup, that's right. I'm now officially a mom. My little munchkin was born 4 weeks and 2 days early. Good news is, she's TOTALLY and completely healthy. Just see for yourself:

Name: Emma Mei (pronounced "May," it means "beautiful" in Chinese)
Birth date: Saturday, February 3, 2007
Birth time: 8:54 a.m.
Weight: 5 lbs, 11 oz
Length: 19 inches

Being a mom is completely strange and surreal. I'm still adjusting to it, given that I lost a whole month of preparation for her arrival. I didn't even have my bags packed for the hospital because I was going to "do it over the weekend." When my water broke at 3:15 a.m. on that Saturday morning, however, I realized that things were NOT going to go as I planned. I'm sure this is just a precursor to what having a child is like anyway.

But I wouldn't change a thing. My labor was relatively easy, so I won't share the details with you. After all, I've already received several hateful glances from friends when they find out I only labored for about 4 hours for my first child.

Anyway -- I've got to run. It's time to feed Emma. I hope you are all doing well!!!

Die Happy

2007-01-29T09:42:00.000-05:00

I'm tired. Extremely tired. And everyone keeps telling me, "just wait, it's worse after the baby is born." Yeah right.

Since I have little to no energy, I offer this link for your reading (or other kind of) pleasure: At least you could die happy.

Cool Gift

2007-01-19T09:26:00.000-05:00

Wednesday was The Antidote's birthday. Among the cool gifts that he got was one from none other than David Amulet and his lovely wife. They gave him a game called Would You Rather...?.

But, to suit our tastes, it was the "sick and twisted" version.

The whole point of the game is to get people to talk about really bizarre situations that you would rarely (if ever) find yourself in. In fact, the game instructions (damn lawyers) tell you to NEVER act our the situations posed...as they may harm or kill you. Nice.

Sounds weird, but it's freakin' hilarious. So last night, it being a week night and all, we decided NOT to play.

Of course,that did not stop me from reading some of the cards aloud to see just what this game was about. We then spent the evening debating:

Would You Rather...
if a man (women, switch genders for a moment)
be able to spontaneously ejaculate OR never ejaculate?

As a group, I think we decided that spontaneous ejaculation would be MUCH more fun. But then, this question arose:

Would You Rather...
stand naked for 5 minutes at the busiest airport nearest your home OR be caught masturbating by a member of the opposite sex?

The spontaneous ejaculation would certainly be an issue in either of these situations, no?

Of course not all the questions involved things of such an...um...intimate nature. There was also:

Would You Rather...
eat 3 barrels of dead flies over two weeks
OR eat 20 lbs of moldy bacon?

DA's wife and I decided that eating a barrel of dead flies would probably be better because, after awhile, they would just be like the handfuls of peanuts you eat when you go to those restaurants that let you leave peanut shells on the floor. DA and The Antidote, however, felt that 20 lbs of moldy bacon was certainly less problematic than dead flies.

As you can tell -- this can lead to some interesting dinner conversation.....

The floor is now open for any other Would you Rathers... that come to mind...

What Would Jesus Sell (or Buy)?

2007-01-08T09:36:00.000-05:00

I'm not anti-religious. I just don't know much about it. I didn't have much religious training when I was young, so I really feel like I don't know enough about the topic to discuss it intelligently. So, I don't, generally.

That being said, I recently ran across an article, though, that has left me perplexed. Apparently there is a new trend to tie in faith with fitness. I understand the premise. But don't these smack of infomercials-gone-bad:

The Lord's Gym: Where "instructors shout out stimulating quotations from scripture" and you can take praise-rcise and yo-god classes.

Body By God: a 40-day program to teach people how to "achieve the highest level of performance from God's handiwork."

What Would Jesus Eat: Um...Bread and wine?

The Prayer Diet: With riveting chapters such as "weight loss through prayer." Is this like the scene in "Are you There God, It's Me Margaret" when she chants "I must, I must, I must increase my bust?"

The Hallelujah Diet: Teaching God's original plan for health and healing. The list of foods to be avoided is longer than the list of foods you can eat. Sounds strangely like starvation to me...

Forget cleanliness being next to godliness. Today's mantra? Commercialism is next to godliness.

May I Please Have an Order of Crazy with a Side of Psycho for 2007?

2007-01-02T10:09:00.000-05:00

Welcome to 2007 everyone. I hope you all partook of some safe and happy New Year celebrations. Ringing in the New Year is always something of a bitter sweet moment for me. I love the aspect of something new, something unpredictable being right around the corner. But the prospect of saying goodbye to another year, is well, a little sad.

2006 was an great year for me....but a conversation -- ok, a total freak out -- I had on New Year's Even has begun to make me feel a little uneasy about my state of mind for 2007.

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The Antidote, I, and 4 other friends decided we wanted to ring in the New Year at a party in downtown D.C. We figured it might be our last chance to "really" do this right for awhile being that I'm "with child" and all. Plus, any reason to dress up and make fun of other people's fashion sense, right?

At any rate, The Antidote and I were having everyone over to the house for pre-party munchies, drinks, etc. So, we spent most of the morning on December 31 cleaning the house up. At about 10:00 a.m., I ask The Antidote if he's hungry.

He replies that he's "getting there." I reply, "Well, I need to eat something."

***************
Now, about 3-4 months ago (when I was only 3-4 months preggo) the phrase "I need to eat something," really meant, "If I don't eat something in the next five minutes, I will turn into the little girl from The Exorcist until some sort of sustenance passes my lips." Any of you that have been pregnant or around pregnant people get this.

Well, now that I'm in my 7th month, when I say "I need to eat something," it generally means we have AT LEAST a 30 minute to one hour window before I go all kooky.

Poor Antidote, however, is unaware of this change because, well, why should he be?

Anyway, back to my story.

***************
So, the Antidote jumps into self-preservation mode. He runs to the kitchen and starts listing all of things that we have in the house that I could possibly eat. He stops short of offering to cook up our dog.

Of course, nothing that he offers me sounds like what I want to eat. So, I stand in the kitchen, unable to make a decision. After a few minutes of this, The Antidote sighs and says, "You are being SO indecisive!" and leaves the kitchen to continue house preparations.

I become exasperated with him...and myself. So, I march upstairs to put on some clothes (I was in my pajamas, not naked. Naked pregnant is NOT like Demi Moore would lead you to believe). I've decided that I'm going to the store...and while there I will think about what I want and then eat it. But, of course, I don't share this epiphany with The Antidote.

So, he shouts from downstairs, still unbeknownst of my decision, "Are you going to eat something?"

I yell back, "I'm just going to go to the store."

At this point, he is really irritated with me. So, he comes upstairs and says, "Why don't you eat something? We have plenty here."

And this, my friends, is where I go crazy. I start to cry. And not just tears streaming down my face. I really start to sob. I yell at him, "Over the last few days it's like I....well...like you think that I'm....damn it, haven't you ever been hungry and not known what you want to eat?"

No folks, what I've just typed is NOT meant to make sense. It is the kind of crazy psychosis that has been building up in me for the last 7 months.

So, his response? "Yes, but it's the crying over it that's worrying me."

It took all my effort not to try and lift our dresser and throw it at him.

***************
I really am telling this story as something "funny," but it does worry me a bit. I mean, "haven't you ever been hungry and not known what you want to eat?" What the hell kind of crazy thing is that to say?

I know, I know, "pregnancy hormones." I'm not one to claim that I'm a reasonable person 365 days a year, 24 hours a day. But to cry because I don't know what I want to eat?

I just hope this isn't a sign of what's to come.

***************
Anyway, that's my long way of saying I welcomed in 2007 with a little bit of crazy. I hope all of you had a different type of crazy time...i.e., falling down because you were so drunk and happy crazy.

May your New Year be prosperous...and may you always know what you want to eat when you're hungry.

I've Been a Bad Blogger And All I Got Is This T-Shirt...

2006-12-18T11:50:00.000-05:00

Ok, what do I get for not blogging for a few weeks? Tagged. Yup. Tagged by my one-day-she'll-be-famous friend Amanda Brice. So, in the spirit of the holidays, I'll answer, instead of beating her up. :-)

Four Jobs I've Had
1. Cleaning tables at Arby's (I wasn't even allowed near the register)
2. Nuclear, Biological & Chemical Operations Center Officer (I knew this one would raise eyebrows)
3. Law Clerk for a Judge
4. Litigation Attorney

Four Places I've Lived
1. Huntsville, Alabama
2. Camp Zama, Japan
3. Ft. Leonardwood, Misery (oops, I mean, Missouri)
4. Boulder, Colorado

Four Favorite Foods (you mean I have to narrow it to 4? I just love food....)
1. Steak --- mmmm...red meat
2. Cheesecake, plain with strawberries on top, preferably
3. Pho
4. Mashed potatoes

Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over
1. Grease
2. Fifth Element
3. Dune (either the new or old version...you pick)
4. The Breakfast Club

Four TV Shows I Watch
1. Heroes (damn it, no new episodes until January)
2. Scrubs
3. Miami Ink
4. What Not To Wear

Four Places I've Visited
1. Sweden
2. China (including Hong Kong)
3. Taiwan
4. Mexico

Four Places I'd Like To Visit
1. France
2. Italy
3. Greece
4. Australia

Four Websites I Go To (almost) Daily
1. Hotmail
2. Fark.com
3. Google
4. Blogger

Four People I'm Tagging To Do This
No one. I won't make you do it. Consider it my gift to you. Merry ChristmaKwanzaKah everyone.

The Devolution of English

2006-11-27T13:18:00.000-05:00

I'll admit it. I misuse the English language sometimes. I occasionally puncture my e-mails with "gonnas" and "haftas." But by the same token, I don't think that the ambalance will supposably orientate itself in case of a mergency.

Some people would tell you that I'm just a snob when it comes to the use of proper English. As if my being a lawyer wasn't enough to make some people hate me outright. My argument, however, is that I KNOW the difference between the short cuts I use and "The Queen's English." Even though I'm a 'merican, I can choose whether to speak American or English, right?

Well, apparently the devolution of the English language is not occurring just in United States. A recent survey of teachers in the UK revealed that two-thirds of the test takers made basic mistakes regarding the placement of apostrophes, while 8 percent couldn't get the use of I and ME straight.

This is just plain sad. Am I being too harsh? Is it just a reality that our language will devolve into some bastard form of its original self? Will I, one day, listen to my grandchildren and wonder what the hell they're saying (minus the whole potential for needing a hearing aid, of course)?

Apparently we can't trust all of our teachers to TEACH our children the fundamentals. So, that leaves the blame with us for not making it a priority in our own lives.

I guess I'm not gonna take it any more. I guess it's going to be a long road ahead.

P.S. If you want to test your own knowledge, there's a link in the article to 10 of the questions asked of these teachers. Take the test before you read the full article, though, as the article contains some spoilers. I'm proud to say I got 10 out of 10.

When in Rome....

2006-11-13T09:20:00.000-05:00

I LOVE cynicism. It makes me laugh...and this article was just the ticket for me. Instead of news stories about Brit and K-Fed, this author decided to address how different the world would be if "familiar, comforting homespun proverbs were literally true."

He picked "every cloud has a silver lining," "a watched pot never boils," "a cat has nine lives," and "the pen is mightier than the sword" to address.

But he just wasn't cynical enough, damn it. So, here's my own stab at weakening some old proverbs:

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Have you ever been in a long distance relationship? If you have, you'll know that the reality is that "absence makes the loins grow hotter." Now, whether you can keep your pants on or not is not the subject of this proverb...but my heart certainly never grew "fonder" upon absence. Maybe "bitter" or "lonely," but never "fonder."

All's fair in love and war.

If this were literally true, then I don't think we'd be in such an uproar about the Iraq war. I mean, after all, we would've nuked the hell out of Saddam (instead of dragging him out of a hole) and then said, "well, all's fair Saddam. All's fair."

Of course, if all were fair in love, well, then we'd either all be good looking (e.g., fair), or every husband that forgot a birthday/anniversary, etc. would be off-the-hook. I don't think that's happening any time soon. Sorry guys.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

This proverb is old-fashioned and needs to be changed to keep up with the times. How about "No insurance today keeps the doctor away."

A rolling stone gathers no moss.

This might be a stretch, but what do you think lead to Mick Jagger's "throat problems?" The guy's so old I think moss has been growing inside of him.

Plus, you've got the Keith Richard's brain hemorrhage after falling out of a tree to gather coconuts. I bet there was MOSS on that tree...come on folks, why else would this otherwise "healthy" guy fall out of a tree? hmmm?

What's done can't be undone.

Bill Gates took care of this one. It's called "Ctrl-Z" or "undo."

Plus, if this were true, then what would be the point of "sending a message to the President" by allowing Democrat control of the House and the Senate? The American public clearly is seeking to debunk this proverb by their own voting ways....

But enough from me....Anyone care to debunk any of their favorites?

Life's Lessons

2006-11-07T12:40:00.000-05:00

So, I recently stumbled across this article, which points out the author's view on 8 important lessons learned from 80s cartoons.

The lessons include: (1) Communism works, (2) spinach is good for you, (3) knowing is half the battle, (4) trust no one, (5) it's OK to be gay, (6) grrls rock, (7) April O'Neil is really hot, and (8)if we're not careful robots will kill us all.

Extra bonus kudos if you can name the cartoons that taught each of these lessons without reading the article first. Sorry folk, no prizes on this blog.

I don't know about you, but cartoons in the 80s left me satisfied as an child, but now perplex me as an adult. In fact, the questions still burn inside me (and no, that's not the chili I ate for dinner last night). For example:

CURIOUS GEORGE: Just what was George so curious about? He just seemed to be mischievious to me. He didn't seem to want to get to the bottom of any societal questions or even want to delve into a greater understanding of his own actions. He was just hyper. That's it.

ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS: What made Alvin the leader? Why did Simon and Theodore follow him so blindly? Simon was clearly smarter and Theodore clearly nicer. Last -- why am I not embarrassed to admit I owned almost every album (vinyl baby) released by these cartoon characters in the 80s?

HEATHCLIFF V. GARFIELD: Why was there no trademark battle between the owners of Heathcliff and Garfield? Who could have eaten more lasagna? Who would've won in a cat fight?

RAINBOW BRITE: Was she the start of the whole "rainbow" movement for the gay community?

CARE BEARS: Just why did they care so much?

If these are the things that keep my up at night, I'm in trouble once my daughter is old enough to watch the Wiggles, aren't I?

At last.....

2006-11-02T08:15:00.000-05:00

...my love has come along,
my lonely days over,
and life is like a song...

Etta James

Ok, Ok, I've been on a blogger break. Sporadic comments and not-even-sporadic writing. Sorry you all. I've just been UNMOTIVATED.

But, now my energy's back and I feel like writing again. Thanks for sticking with me folks.

Before I get into the meat of it, so to speak, I'll give you a little update (since Ben wanted to know how my "bump" was doing!):

I'm doing great and feeling great. I'm officially over half-way through my pregnancy. The Antidote and I just found out a few weeks ago that we're having a girl. I'm so excited. Even though the Antidote said he just wanted a healthy baby, I think a little part of him was wishing for a boy. During the ultrasound, when no "boy parts" were detected he leaned over, placed his hand on my leg and sweetly said, "You always get what you want don't you?"

My response was, naturally, "uh...yeah? It's taken you this long to realize it?" :-)

But enough about me....

**********************************

All of you guys out there that complain about there being no "truth in advertising" (because women are constantly trying to push, pull, tuck, and lift themselves to be beautiful) had better do some soul searching.

An Australian underwear maker with the brilliant name of Aussiebum has come up with the Wonderjock for men.

"The design of the underwear separates and lifts. The fabric cup protrudes everything out in front instead of down towards the ground."

I don't know about you, but I always thought men were supposed to go to the right or the left AND down...not out front. When I've seen one "out front," it's usually been at attention, so to speak! At any rate, men with size complexes may now have an option, other than stuffing old tube socks in there. Sure, you're falsely advertising the size of your...ahem...area, but how's that different from the Wonderbra?

I'm thinking that next on the agenda will be a market for making a man's hands and/or feet look bigger. After all, you know what they say about a man who has big hand/feet?

He wears big gloves/shoes.

Geographic Ignorance

2006-09-30T11:11:00.000-05:00

I'm sure plenty of other bloggers have written about this phenomenon in the past. But, it is something that continues to amaze me. Particularly here, in the United States, we seem to have some mental block toward learning geography outside of how to get from our house to the local liquor store in the quickest way possible. Not that this knowledge isn't useful, but you'd think people would be a little more interested in our place in the world.

The Antidote, if you didn't know it before, was born and raised in Canada. I'll admit that I didn't know much about Canada until I met him, but I certainly (a) knew where it was and (b) knew how large it was.

Apparently, I was well ahead of the learning curve, based on an e-mail I recently received that both made me laugh and cry.

Here's a reproduction:
*********************************************
Some of you may remember the saying "A stupid question deserves a stupid answer." Here it goes. Now that Vancouver has won the chance to host the 2010 Winter Olympics these are some questions people the world over are asking!!!!

Believe it or not these questions about Canada were posted on an International Tourism Website. The answers are a joke but the questions were really asked.

Q: I have never seen it warm on Canadian TV, so how do the plants grow?(UK)

A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.

Q: Will I be able to see Polar Bears in the street? (USA)

A: Depends on how much you've been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Vancouver to Toronto-can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)

A: Sure, it's only Four thousand miles, take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Canada? (Sweden)

A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.

Q: It is imperative that I find the names and addresses of places to contact for a stuffed Beaver. (Italy)

A: Let's not touch this one.

Q: Are there any ATM's (cash machines) in Canada? Can you send me a list of them in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton and Halifax? (UK)

A: What did your last slave die of?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Canada? (USA)

A: A-Fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Ca-na-DA is that big country to your North... Oh forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is North in Canada? (USA)

A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can I bring cutlery into Canada? (UK)

A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA)

A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is, oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Vancouver and in Calgary, straight after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Do you have perfume in Canada? (Germany)

A: No, WE don't stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Canada? (USA)

A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in British Columbia where the female population is smaller than the male population (Italy)

A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada? (USA)

A: Only at Thanksgiving.

Q: Are there supermarkets in Toronto and is milk available all year round? (Germany)

A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of Vegan hunter/gathers. Milk is illegal.

Q:I have a question about a famous animal in Canada, but I forget its name. It's a kind of big horse with horns. (USA)

A: It's called a Moose. They are tall and very violent, eating the brains of anyone walking close to them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

Q: I was in Canada in 1969 on R+R, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Surrey, BC. Can you help? (USA)

A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)

A: Yes, but you will have to learn it first.

I'm Moving to Ulyanovsk

2006-09-23T06:14:00.000-05:00

Where in the world is Ulyanovsk, you ask? Oh, it's only in Russia.

My decision to move is precipitated by the Ulyanovsk governor's "Give Birth to a Patriot" campaign. In a recent move that would make John Holmes proud, the governor ordered workers in Ulyanovsk to "go home to your love one, relax, and let nature take its course."

Not only that, if you time it right and conceive in time to give birth on June 12 -- Russia's Independence Day -- you could win prizes ranging from appliances to a 4WD vehicle.

WOO HOO. Who doesn't want a day off to make whoopie? (That's a rhetorical question people). Add that fringe benefit onto the possibility of winning prizes? Well, hell, that makes Russia seem like a downright hospitable place to live.

The biggest move has come from President Putin, though. Apparently Putin has promised $9,599 to ever mother who gives birth to a second child.

Russian politicians are urging citizens to start, well, rushin' to the bedroom after census reports showed that there were 793,000 more deaths than births in 2004. Apparently people just aren't interested in procreating in a society where you have to stand in line for toilet paper. Imagine that.

So, I'm considering a move. We'll just have to see what the Antidote thinks about that.....

Germaphobe

2006-09-19T09:50:00.000-05:00

The Antidote and I went to Las Vegas this last weekend for my sister's wedding. Vegas is "ok" to me, but nothing all that exciting. Especially since I can't drink. UGH.

At one point during the trip, however, my sister and I are in the bathroom and she says to me, "When did we become such germaphobes?"

She was prompted to say this, of course, because we were both ferociously washing our hands after touching the slot machines in the casino.

I decided that we became germaphobes "back in the day" when mom told us never to sit on a public toilet seat. We were indoctrinated early into the "squat and hover" technique that most women use in public restrooms. The fact that we lived overseas for so long during our childhood really helped...since a lot of public restrooms in Asia consist of porcelain around a hole in the ground. You have no option BUT to squat and hover.

It turns out that I chose a good career for a germaphobe. According to some freaky survey, lawyers have the least germy desks, when compared to teachers, accountants, bankers, radio DJs, doctors, television producers, consultants, and publicists. Why they picked this list of professions, I have no idea.

After all this time, I was convinced my mom wanted me to become a lawyer because it was a "respectable" job. Now I know the real truth.

What I Was Doing...and What I Am Doing

2006-09-11T07:03:00.000-05:00

I arrived at the parking garage to my office building this morning at 6:00 a.m., realizing that I left my damn office keys and badge at home. Sure, they'll let me in the building...at 8:00 a.m. So, I had to drive the 30 minutes home, get my act together, and drive back.

I also realized, as I was refueling my car this morning, that I couldn't find one of my credit cards. Great.

All in all -- I'm thinking to myself -- this is a pretty shitty day.

But while in the car, and now after looking over some other Bloggers sites, I'm a little ashamed of myself.

I realized this morning that it was 9/11, but it wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind. I don't feel bad about that...I feel glad that things have moved on to the point where it's not the first thing I think of any more. But, I'm a little embarrassed that I was feeling so sorry for myself for my silly little issues, when others are truly hurting today.

So, I take a moment to remember what I was doing then:

On this day, 5 years ago, I was working for a law firm in Washington, D.C. I was only a few blocks from the White House...a really beautiful part of the city. I had an early teleconference with people in New York. As we're going on about the deregulation of the electric and natural gas industries (riveting, I know), one of the guys that is in New York said, "Hey, something just happened to the World Trade Center." All the jabbering stopped as we waited for him to report what happened. Luckily, he was not near the twin towers, but was watching CNN when it all happened. We hear him gasp and he says, "I've got to go."

At that moment, we all terminate the phone call. I call out to the other people in the office -- they already had the TV on. We watched the events unfold with horror.

Then we felt the building shake. We didn't get it. Newscasters were reporting rumors that the State Department had been hit. Outside one of the partner's windows we see smoke rising from the direction of the Pentagon. We didn't realize what it was at that time, but found out later.

About 5 minutes later, as we are all shocked and trying to figure out what to do, the Secret Service entered our building and told everyone to evacuate because of our proximity to the White House.

One of the other attorneys welcomed me into her home...she lived about 10 blocks away. I did not know how I would get back to Virginia. As we walked in silence to her house, I alternately tried calling my husband and my National Guard unit. I knew my husband was safe...I wasn't sure I was so safe. And I wasn't even sure how much time I would have to see him if my Guard unit was mobilized to take care of whatever needed to be done.

Hours later I finally reached my husband...and the rest of my family. We thanked God that everyone we personally knew was ok. I reached my Guard unit...we were not going to be called up. After receipt of that news, I was finally able to get on the Metro to go home. My husband and I were near tears when we saw each other...so happy to be together, safe and sound.

But, it all comes full circle to what I am doing now...

As I told you above, I was in a crappy mood today until I realized just how lucky I am. I'm lucky to be alive, to have a beautiful house, to have the most amazing husband in the world, to be employed, and most of all ... and yes, this is new news fellow Bloggers ... I'm lucky to be almost 15 weeks pregnant. The Antidote and I are expecting our first child some time around March 5, 2007.

So, I REFUSE to mourn today. Don't look upon my harshly. Of course, I mourn for all of those families and people that are not as lucky to have gotten through 9/11 as unscathed as I did. But I mourn for them every day.

Instead, I choose to celebrate life today. To celebrate my life, the lives of those I love, the lives of those I don't know who deserve to be loved..and the little life growing inside of me.

And yes, today I will even celebrate the lives of those I hate and the lives of those whom I don't know, but who deserve to be hated...because to me, that's the best slap in the face of all. Five years ago those terrorists tried to steal our lives, our love, and our honor. Don't let them do it. Don't let them win.

We Get By With A Little Help From Our Friends....

2006-08-29T15:34:00.000-05:00

Ok, I know. I've been a bad bad blogger. I just haven't found that muse yet. Even though I've been searching for her high and low. She's hiding...somewhere. If you find her over at your blog, please chastise her and send her back to mine.

I've had a lot going on in life....something that I will most likely choose to reveal at some later point. But, given my penchant for avoiding personal issues, I am, instead, using the scattered few who still bother to read this blog to help a friend.

WARNING: Shameless plug to follow.

Ok, so it doesn't hurt that a friend of mine is running a contest to "encourage" her friends to help her promote her new e-book. But really, the free box of books she's offering would just be added to the 20+ books on my shelf that I swear I'll "get to" by the end of the year.

Her name is Amanda Brice, and she's recently fallen into some success with her writing. Since most bloggers are either real writers trying to "make it" or people secretly-wishing-they-had-the-balls-to-be-real-writers trying to make it, I thought you all might appreciate her desire to promote herself.

One of her short stories was recently picked up by a small non-subsidy publishing house called Freya's Bower. It's neat because they don't print publish, they only e-publish, but they pay out royalties and everything. Freya's Bower primarily publishes erotica and romantica.

Amanda was hoping her friends would spread the word -- so that's what this is all about. Amanda's writing is in the "Chick Lit" genre. Think "Bridget Jones' Diary." Her story is entitled "She's Got Legs," and was an engaging read. (Yes, I read it...and yes, I paid the $2.00 for it online). So, if you're in the mood for some "chick lit," please check it out. It's fun...and at 18 pages, you can read it in the blink of an eye.

Here's a blurb of the book:

SHE'S GOT LEGS by Amanda Brice

Daria Wyatt didn't want to go to her fifteen-year high school reunion. Although she has blossomed from a wallflower into a powerful Capitol Hill attorney, she knew seeing those girls in person wouldn't exactly do wonders for her self-esteem. If only her younger sister Kara hadn't insisted she go. Giving in to shut her sister up, Daria borrows Kara's high heels in an effort to jumpstart her confidence. But in her rush to get out the door, she picks up the wrong pair, a butt-ugly purple platform creation with bright green sequins...

Greg McCauley can't believe his bad luck. He finally meets a beautiful, intelligent, intriguing, confident woman, but she rushes off before he can get her number. He knows he should put her out of his mind, but there's just something about her. Those lips, those eyes, those legs, those crazy shoes...

If you're interested, you can order the book here. It's a whopping $2.00. Come on, you can afford it.

If you're interested in knowing more about the elusive Amanda Brice, check out an interview with here here, or check out her blog

Re-labeling

2006-08-14T07:52:00.000-05:00

Apparently there is quite a hullaballo in geekdom about whether or not Pluto should be considered a planet.

I guess this debate has been going on for decades, as some astronomers consider the smallest "planet" in our solar system to be something other than a "planet." Suggestions have ranged from deleting it from our roles as a planet to calling it an "ice dwarf planet."

The real controversy arose, however, when the heavenly body Xena was discovered. (No, I'm not referring to Lucy Lawless -- although she is quite fetching. Although, her character Xena the Warrior Princess is who the discoverer named the celestial object after. Please see my reference to "geekdom" above for further clarification.)

Astronomers are hoping a unified answer will come out of the next Star Trek conference. Well, not really, but there is going to be a meeting of the International Astronomical Union in Prague. Same thing, in my mind. Participants in the 12-day conference will decide on the definition of "planet," and whether the science we've been learning for years is wrong.

All in all, I personally don't really care what happens with good ol' Pluto. After all, since I'm a product of public school systems, it took me years to realize that Pluto and "Bluto" from Popeye were different things.

But, imagine the ramifications of this type of relabeling. I mean, if we're so concerned about the labels being applied to celstial bodies, what's going to happen when word of this spreads? Think about it:

Countries: We could redefine the term "country" to include only desirable traits. As a result, Bahrain would lose its country status as long as Michael Jackson resided there. Cuba would be deleted from the roles as long as Castro insisted on wearing a Harlem Globetrotters uniform for pictures regarding his health. Fictitious Zemunda would become a country because, well, who wouldn't like a country that has Eddie Murphy as a prince and James Earl Jones as a lion wearing king?

Sports: If today's growing younger population had a say, video gaming would top the list of sports as soon as a relabeling took effect. After all, who wouldn't eschew the traditional P.E. class for a little X-Box time? Likely, Ice Dancing would no longer hold the coveted sports title because, well, isn't it the same as ice skating?

Political Parties: We could just do away with the Republican Party, the Democratic Party, and even the Green Party. We could just call all sides whiners. This would lead to classification based on issue, instead of having to limit yourself to one particular party. You could be a part of the whiner-about-taxes party or a part of the whiner-about-abortion party. To me, the system would be a lot less restrictive that way...and you could belong to multiple whiner-parties, which would result in several $1,000 plate dinner invitations in a year.

You're probably thinking, "Surely, Curare can't be serious?" Well, my only response to you is, "I am serious, and don't call me Shirley."

The Divinyls Dream....

2006-08-08T09:04:00.000-05:00

You remember the song, "I Touch Myself," by the Divinyls, don't you? Well, it will soon become the theme song for the expected 200 people who will participate in Europe's first ever "Masturbate-a-thon."

I don't believe Jerry Lewis would approve.

According to the website, "The amount of money you raise will be determined by how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve."

Apparently, the current world record is eight hours and thirty minutes. WOW. I'd need some serious sleep and probably more than a few turkey sandwiches to replace all that lost energy.

Apparently, you have to be over 18, and you can bring any aids you need to help you. And no -- you can't masturbate someone else. This has to be a solo act. However, you're welcome to bring yourself to climax in any one of three different rooms: a mixed area, a men's only room, and a women only room. But, there will be screened areas for "private masturbators."

My question: are you really going to be a "private masturbator" if you go out for this thing? I mean, you're willing to COME FOR A CAUSE (that's the slogan) in public. Doesn't that immediately negate any claims to being a "private" masturbator?

Or, that being said, isn't everyone a private masturbator? I mean, what can you masturbate...other than your privates?

In case you're curious, Masturbate-a-thons have a history....they've been staged in San Francisco for the last 6 years and have raised $25,000 for women's health initiatives and HIV prevention. So, if you're not looking to travel to Europe any time soon, don't fret. You'll be able to COME FOR A CAUSE right here in the US of A.

Dangerous Situation

2006-08-04T07:31:00.000-05:00

I received this via e-mail ... Author Unknown ... but hilariously funny nonetheless:

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed.

On your right side is a sharp drop off.

On your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you.

Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo, which your horse is unable to overtake.

Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the kangaroo.

What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

GET YOUR DRUNK ASS OFF THE MERRY-GO-ROUND.

Don't Worry, I've Got Your Back.

2006-08-02T07:30:00.000-05:00

With each passing day, my connection with my sordid past becomes more and more attenuated. I mean, I never would have used the words "sordid" or "attenuated" in a sentence in college. Never.

And as I reminisce about those moments, I'm inexplicably drawn back to the bar fights. Yes, the bar fights.

That was back in the day, when I didn't realize that tequila is an evil, evil substance when not mixed with Cointreau and margarita mix. That was back in the day, when I relished being in clubs that were so packed with people you could barely sway to the music.

A recent scientific discovery has shed some light on my shady recollection of those days, however. There is a good reason for the surly, aggressive behavior I exhibited in those wish-they-had-been-more-rare bar fight moments: it was the crowds. It's all THEIR fault.

Apparently, scientists have discovered that ants are more aggressive when in gangs. That's right. Ants fight easier knowing their friends have their back. Or is it back(s)? Does each segment of an ant's exoskeleton have a back, or are they all combined into one back? These are the things that make you go hmmmmm.

At any rate, this discovery makes me feel better about my former behavior. It wasn't my hormones...it was because that girl really was looking at me funny...and I knew someone, anyone, had my back.

This scientific discovery has many implications beyond the ant world. Just think about it:

Lebanon/Israel: we could probably solve this whole thing if we just take some of the people from more crowded areas, and then put them in more desolate areas. (Wait...isn't that what got us into this in the first place?)

Gang Wars: hello?! You never hear about the scourge of gangs in such highly populated areas as the Northwest Territories of Canada. Ship gang members there instead of to overcrowded prisons. They'll come back reformed and knowing how to hide from bears.

Sports: Just making the seats a little farther apart in a stadium may stop the insanity of trampling. Of course, it would also make it harder for the beer guy to get you your beer, which could result in a new scourge of surliness.

The end lesson? Give each other some space people. But always know, I've got your back.

I'm BACK!

2006-08-01T08:04:00.000-05:00

Ok, so things slowed down to a molasses like crawl here on Poisonous Points. Work got crazy (i.e., I actually needed to do some work) and I neglected my blog.

My poor little blog. It feels so neglected.

So to make matters worse, instead of posting something of import here, I heeded the Siren's call and am guest posting on Beauty v. The Beast with the ever amazing PHOENIX.

Check it out. More to come here soon...just let me choke down another cup of Hemlock to get my brain functioning again......

It's All in Your Name

2006-07-12T08:36:00.000-05:00

Apparently, your name can tell people something about you. It doesn't just tell people that your parents are unoriginal, or that they had serious drug issues in the 60s. No, apparently your name determines your personality, your strengths, your weaknesses, your nature, your physical health...everything about you. In fact, you can change your destiny by simply picking a more Balanced Name™.

According to the The Kabalarian Philosophy, "life does not need to be punctuated with a question mark." A simple mathematical evaluation of the letters in your name can reveal your past, present, and future. From what I understand, the principles are similar to those found in numerology.

Oh -- despite the etymological similarity, Kabalarians are not to be confused with people who practice Kabbalah.

Now, I am not one to automatically discredit things I don't understand. I've always hoped someone or something would provide me the key to the door of life. I don't consider myself a skeptic, but rather a realist. I've got to see proof first.

However, my interest was piqued when I read the story of Darryl R. Peebles. There are two Darryl R. Peebles in the world...one an American, one an Australian. The two found each other after the American Peebles typed his name into an Internet search engine and found the Australian Peebles.

According to the article I read, the similarities don't end with their names:

Both born in 1949

Both have three children.

Both have a child born in 1975.

Both have a child born in 1977.

Both of their fathers both came from small towns and worked on lathes of some kind.

Both are keen performers, and enjoyed magic, ventriloquism and playing music.

So, this led me to seek a Kabalarian analysis of my first name (not Curare, but rather my REAL first name...*GASP*). The Kabalarian Philosophy reveals the following about me:

(1) Even though your name creates the urge to be artistically creative and original, we emphasize that it causes an emotional intensity that is hard to control.

(2) This name, when combined with the last name, can frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses in the nervous system, and tension or accidents to the head.

(3) Your name creates a dual nature in that you can be very generous and understanding, but you can also be so candid in your expression that you create misunderstanding.

(4) You struggle with the requirement to soften your expression with tact and diplomacy and to consider the feelings of others.

(5) Difficulty in accepting advice or admitting that you may have made a mistake causes you to appear to be stubborn and set in your ways. Thus, you have too often created the wrong impression, and friendships have suffered.

I didn't go on to pay $$$ to have my "full name" analyzed, but I have to say that this is frighteningly like me. Except for #2. That one is just dead wrong. Some people would tell you they believe I've had many "accidents to the head," but I hearilty deny that statement.

Amazing or ridiculous? I leave that to you to decide.

It's All About Stamina

2006-07-10T05:37:00.000-05:00

I'm exhausted. Things have been hectic and life has just caught up with me. My muse and my mind left me momentarily.

But I take heart. I am regaining my motivation. These shining examples of incredible stamina make me want to jump up and get moving....

CURARE-Z'S STAMINA AWARD WINNER RUNNER-UP

Fertility treatments (and stamina) helped this woman give birth to her 4th child, at 62 years old. The woman was 62 years old -- not the baby, people. This makes her the oldest British woman to have a baby. To put it into perspective: she will be 72 when her child is 10 years old (around 4th grade), she will be 80 when her child graduates from high school, and she will be lucky if she makes it to her child's wedding.....

CURARE-Z'S STAMINA AWARD WINNER

An AH HA Moment

2006-06-29T05:46:00.000-05:00

Do you remember those old cartoons we used to watch as kids? They were clean and wholesome. When a character had a brilliant idea, a light bulb would appear over their heads and magically blink on and off.

Well, that childhood image has been completely destroyed by this guy.

Fateh Mohammad, a prison inmate in Pakistan, recently underwent surgery to have a glass light bulb removed from his anus.

Yes, I said anus.

The worst part about the ordeal is that Mohammad didn't know it was there. He woke up to a pain in his abdomen and was told in the hospital what the cause of his pain was.

Yeah. Pain in his abdomen. Uh huh. Sure, Mohammad.

Mohammad claims that someone must have drugged him and shoved the bulb up there while we was comatose. I'm not buying it....and neither are the doctors.

In the understatement of the year, the doctor that performed this delicate surgery is quoted as saying: "We had to take it out intact...Had it been broken inside, it would be a very very complicated situation."

Getting to Know Me....Getting to Know All About Me...

2006-06-22T07:34:00.000-05:00

I stole this survey from Perplexio, who stole this from bearette24. Admittedly, I've eliminated some of the questions because, well, 44 questions it too many.

At any rate, since I've broken my rule about "not blogging about myself," I figure I might as well REALLY break the rule. (I'm an all or nothing kind of gal, I guess). Plus, I'm in a great mood because The Antidote and I closed on our new house yesterday. So, in the interest of sharing:

Which curse word do you use the most?

Which curse word do I use the least, is probably the question. I love the word f*ck, for it's various uses and for the looks it gets from passerbys when you yell it at the top of your lungs.

What time is your alarm clock set for?

I'm lucky, I have a flexible schedule at work....so, it varies. Generally my alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. But, much to The Antidote's chagrin, I rarely get up at that time. I try to get out of the house by 5:30 - 6:00 a.m....and I do that on most days. But sometimes I don't roll out until 7:30 a.m. or 8:00 a.m. Either that, or I call in -- *cough* *cough* -- "SICK."

How many suitcases do you own?

Tons of various sizes, but I have three that I primarily use. First, my big, pseudo hardshell suitcase for traveling to nasty places, like India, where it is ideally suited for the conditions, e.g., your bag is likely to be tossed in a puddle of human urine and you want to keep the urine out. Then, I have my "fits in the overhead compartment of airplane and is just big enough for the number of tank tops and shorts needed for a week of debauchery in Mexico" suitcase. Last, I have my fancy Louis Vuitton set for traveling to anywhere else.

What was the last movie you watched?

The Ringer...this is the Johnny Knoxville movie where they fix the special olympics. It was, suprisingly, funny WITH a message. (FYI -- that message is NOT "make fun of disadvantaged kids at every chance you get," but rather of the "we're people too" ilk.)

Has anyone ever called you lazy?

Of course not. They've always come up with much more colorful ways to tell me when I'm sloth-like.

Do you ever take medication to help you sleep?

Does gin count as a type of "medication?"

Which CD is currently in your CD player?

I own an IPOD silly. CD players are for kids.

Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk?

MMMM..chocolate. And since they've come out with chocolate skim milk...mmmm....even better.

Has anyone told you a secret this week?

If I told you that would be breaking the trust now, wouldn't it?

Can you whistle?

Only while I work...damn dwarves.

Are you shy around the opposite sex?

HA HA HA HA HA. Me, shy?! You've got to know me, though, to know why this is the funniest question, ever. I'm about as shy as a peep show.

Which movie(s) do you know every line to?

The Breakfast Club. "Does Barry MAnilow know you raided his wardrobe?"

Ever cry in public?

Whaddya think I am, a girl? Oh wait. I am a girl. Uh, I plead the 5th.

When is the last time you slept on the floor?

Does passing out count? If so, how am I supposed to remember? I passed out...DUH!!

Do you use sarcasm?

No. Wait, that was saracstic, wasn't it?

How old will you be on your next birthday?

*GASP* 32

Do you get along better with the same sex or the opposite sex?

This question presupposes I get along with anyone...which is a big presupposition.

One of your scars--how did you get it?

I was born with a dislocated hip. So, at the ripe old age of about 1.5, I had to go into skeletal traction in the hospital. As a result, I have 4 scars of equal size, one on each side of my thigh. But telling people that is just too boring. Since my mom is Chinese and my dad is Caucasian, I look just barely Asian enough for people to ask "what I am." I tell them about how dad was a soldier in Vietnam and met my mom while on R&R in Taiwan. Since most people think Asians are all alike, they forget that Taiwan and Vietnam aren't the same country. So, to explain my scars, I tell a merry tale of how dad smuggled mom and I out of Vietnam in his rucksack while bullets were flying. I took one straight through both legs...and didn't even shout out.

And believe it or not...some people think that story is true.