QueenAlpo's Xanga

Calling my favorite Houstonians...

Tue, 16 Sep 2008 23:50:59 GMT

Yo, Houston Xangans...

been sitting around patiently, sending positive thoughts and waiting to hear, but I can't stand it.

me dying for an update. Are you okay?

Peek-a-boo!

Tue, 22 Jan 2008 13:43:57 GMT

You people are foo-foo.

I especially like your attempts at psychoanalysis:

Jasindia: "...this is QueenAlpo's strategy to cause us pain slowly..."
SmilinSoul: "...you must secretly LOVE this fan club. c'mon..."
Cariocgl: "I have no doubt that she'll pop up elsewhere but not before forcing us to go through a Promises-worthy withdrawal. You're a mean one, Ms. Grinch."

...and your desperate pleas:

llputney: "...i dont know what i would ever do without your stories!!!"
Staying_In_Touch: "I'm gonna show up at your door with protesters and shirts that say "QUEENALPO CAN'T QUIT... "
llputney again: "please don't drop off the face of the earth...you're our drug, we need your words of wisdom, somehow and somewhere..."
soazul: "***SCREAMS AT THE TOP OF MY SEMI-COLLAPSED LUNGS*** PLEASE DON'T QUITTTT!!!!!!!"
llputney again (snickers): ""NOOOOOOOooooOOOOOooooOOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO!!!!!!!"

...and your detective sleuthing:

Staying_In_Touch: "Maybe this is a tease, and you're launching queenalpo.com?!"
Jasindia: "otherwise-- she wouldn't say "stay tuned"..."

...and even your karmic attribution to the divine:

cariocgl: See, even God had to protest. Of course He's too all-powerful and mighty to leave an insignificant little comment on her blog. But I know He objects because there's evidence all around me...
SNOW

makes Alpo crabbier

*ahem*

As much fun as I had torturing you guys and squeezing out every last drop of ego-feeding goodness, I did eventually decide to have some mercy. You're invited to my new online home at www.queenalpo.com. I'm still redecorating, but if you don't mind the mess, come on over.

I miss you.

...and QueenAlpo's quitting Xanga too!

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 13:19:26 GMT

Elton John seems appropriate now:

"Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

"What do you think you'll do then
I bet that'll shoot down your plane
It'll take you a couple of vodka and tonics
To set you on your feet again

"Maybe you'll get a replacement
There's plenty like me to be found
Mongrels who ain't got a penny
Sniffing for tidbits like you on the ground"

How's that for megalomania? Cleansing, cleansing...
Stay tuned.

Welcome to the Chamber of Horrors

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 13:34:55 GMT

And this... (imagine a tour guide gesturing dramatically to the room behind the velvet rope) ... is the infamous torture chamber in Kasa Kaftan. No flash photography, please. Souvenirs are available at the gift shop at the end of the tour.

Victims have been bludgeoned in the back of the head by a mysterious and evilly-placed bicycle handlebar while unloading the washer on the left. One victim, who chose to remain anonymous, claims she has a semi-permanent technicolor bruise on the base of her skull. Each week she adds a new layer of color to this bruise, thus rendering her eligible for a clandestine study on unneccessary domestic abuse by some white-coats over at the NIH. The victim also tells of being forced to suffer aforementioned bashing in front of an audience; the ignorant (and shorter) bike-riding audience then heckles her with comments about perceived stupidity and klutziness. The anonymous victim is also on a long waiting list for psychiatric services as a result of said heckling.

Moving over to the right, notice the location of the dryer door, when open, relative to the edge of what certain occupants of Kasa Kaftan call a "workbench." Victims of this torture chamber also suffer whacking here of a most horrific kind: simultaneous knee-jabs and back-pokes. The instigators of this kind of abuse have yet to be found, despite an ongoing investigation.

Last, but certainly not least: the insidious clothes-snatching gap between the far-right wall and the dryer. Items such as freshly laundered and folded blankets or sheets on top of the dryer will inexplicably begin a slow slide toward the gap, no matter how far over to the left they've been carefully placed. This slide begins at an imperceptible speed, accelerating to the speed of light only once a victim has spotted the miniscule motion. The victim, who has undoubtedly experienced this more than once, is unable to resist the inbred compulsion to go blanket-chasing. This is most unfortunate, since her dash to make a futile grab results in a heavy steel-tempered wallop to the chin by the edge of the dryer. In addition, mysterious forces have conspired to position this wallop squarely at the painful apex of an emerging Mount Zit on victim's chin. This victim, I must remind you, has chosen to remain anonymous. Whoever you think it is, it isn't. Okay?

Okay.

Now, moving on. Next stop, the Hall of Cobwebbed Mysteries.

'Cause I'm soooo good.

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 20:04:35 GMT

I did it.

I quit facebook.

I even deleted it from my bookmarks folder.

I'm so proud of myself.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 17:12:35 GMT

We'd just gotten home from the gym and the kid was scrambling to get at the kids' mini-page that comes in our newspaper. When I finally got it out for her and settled in to read on my own, I saw her gesturing out of the corner of my eye.

She was giggling.

"What?"

And she gestured that I had two sets of chins when I looked down. (And in ASL that's a C handshape, cheeks puffed out, nestled in between chin and neck. Real attractive, especially on a six-year-old.)

"Uh... what?!"

She did it again.

"That's not nice."

*buzzer*

I forgot that in kindergarten-speak, just a simple handwave of dismissal is the social equivalent of a sentence to pariah status. So you can imagine the magnitude of "that's not nice," especially coming from Mom.

Her eyes welled up, her chin drooped. "I'm...sorry." Her soul withdrew into some dark corner and you could practically see the cilice wrapped around her thigh. Whatever she was thinking, it was kindergarten-speak for "I have sinned..."

Crap.

So for future reference, you people planning on kids: double-chins rock, okay?

Unless they don't, in which case you need to either have plastic surgery or develop a cocaine habit, because instructing your kid in social ettiquette? Bad, bad, bad.

Ripped from the Express,

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 21:31:23 GMT

who, in turn, ripped it from dlisted.com:

"Can we please hijack a Starbucks in Hollywood and spike the frapps with birth control bills? This has got to stop. ...Oh Jesus, Eh! I'm losing track on who is and who isn't pregnant. I'll add Avril to the list of "rumored" knocked up chicks along with Pammy Anderson and Angelina Jolie. Seriously, Hollywood is going to be so annoying in 18 years."

I love it.

In other news, we were channel surfing this morning for what will probably be the last time I'll look at the TV until May, and we hit an E! documentary about fad diets. I knew there were a lot out there - South Beach, Blood, recreational drugs, smoking, grapefruit juice, Oprah's famous liquid diet, Atkins, cabbage soup, cookie diet, glycemic index, Zone, etc...

But, damn, my mouth dropped open when a "Tapeworm expert" came on to talk about the finer techniques of his diet (hint: don't chew when you swallow the frickin' parasite).

I guess that's one way to get someone else to eat your calories for you...

I'll stick to my pizza and treadmill plan, thanks.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 23:25:54 GMT

If I had to face a Boggart it'd turn into a decision-to-make.

They're the stupidest, silliest thing ever, but I struggle with them so. And I self-hate for it.

Worry, worry, think, think, debate, debate, chew nails, bug hubby till he snaps. Decide on one thing, then flip flop to the other side. Pros, cons, but which list is longer or weighs more? Go through all this, knowing full well whatever I do, the world still will be the same tomorrow morning.

Or will it?

Shit.

And I really have other things to think about. Wayyy more important things. Like my first qualifying exam tomorrow. If only I could snap out of it and pick one thing and get on with it.

Or maybe the other.

Sighted today:

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 23:08:09 GMT

In 70-degree January weather, no less...

Snazzy red late-model Corvette. Paint job gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Top down, driver's hair wafting in the wind.

License plate: XANAX.

... I shit you not.

Gibbs Resigns as Redskins Head Coach

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 13:58:33 GMT

Weird way to hear this news. I had GMA running this morning while I shipped the kid off to school, and the running news ticker on the bottom said "Gibbs confirms he will return next year." But just now I got a WaPo alert that Joe Gibbs is resigning.

Well, given that he spent sixteen years with the Skins over two separate stints, I'm not too surprised. Plus, he's kinda umm... old school. There were a few games this season that I thought he was being too conservative. But still, I like that guy and will be sad to see him go.

Now all the hullaboo will be about who ol' Deep Pockets Snyder will pay to coach our Skins. The WaPo mentions Bill Cowher (formerly of the Steelers). Now, he has my respect as a competitive dude, but I still don't want that mean-jaw over here.

I got my first real glimpse of the current Steelers' coach, Mike Tomlin, a couple days ago (that's him in the pic). Dude. I didn't know coaches were allowed to be hot. So now the next thing I'm gonna say will be all superficial and flaky and totally not based in any sort of football wisdom, ...but I want him.

The Skins need a hot coach, yo.