The Spurious Plum

Alright, Bitches. I'm Out.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/21/2005 11:02:00 PM 41 comments

Agenda - OR - Why I'm Losing My Mind

Today
-Last day of work.
-Packing.

Tomorrow
-More packing, with drunken packing in the evening for extra flava.

Sunday
-Even more packing, preferrably in sweltering heat so I can have sexy-packing-glow.

Monday
-Drown in boxes, packity-pack-pack.
-Enter state of high freak out.

Tuesday
-Leave on a jetplane.

Wednesday
-Start new job.

Sweet Zombie Jeebus...

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/19/2005 12:27:00 PM 16 comments

Moo, Meow, Max

In addition to all of yesterday's detritus, my inability to put the kibbosh on anything means that upon our return to LA, we'll also be accumulating something called 'Max':



He's totally shameless.


Mama and Papa Spurious have 5 cats. When Mateo and I got married, Mateo jokingly demanded of Mama Spurious "What's the cat dowry?" and she took him at his word. That means we get 22 pounds of holstein-esque cat upon our return to the land of fake boobs. Moo.

Don't worry, I've had a great many cats, and I promise to take good care of him (I won't put him in a basement with that fish, for example), and give him lots of scratches behind the ears. Mateo and I have been wanting a pet for awhile, and though we really want a dog, having a one in LA isn't fair to the animal, so Max is a good solution. We also still have to discuss this with our landlord, who may be able to say no for me.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Goji Berry

"...grows like a bush with vines to a height of over 15 feet."

That's huge. Much like Max. Read more about the goji berry, here. Be careful, since it's a health food commodity, there's a lot of chinese wolfberry pretending to be goji out there.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/16/2005 08:15:00 PM 20 comments

The Spoils Of Obligation - OR - Where Did This Crap Come From?

So, I have a hard time saying 'no' to people.

While this particular character attribute had the potential to make me popular in high school (it didn't, dammit), it makes keeping a clutter free Casa De Spurious difficult. I can't fathom why I voluntarily allowed many of these items to cross my threshhold. Examples:

The big ugly green puff chair. What color is it? Ah yes, the color of MOLD.


A enormous 'marry me, marry my stuff' painting. It only took a few years to warm up to it...


How the hell did Cat Stevens get in my house? Seriously.


The huge green painting that's nice, I suppose, but HUGE. Really. The original painting is, like, 4 inches square. My grandfather's reproduction is probably 4 1/2 feet tall. There are ponies that size, people.


The big green vase Granma Spurious gave to me that isn't a bong, even though EVERYONE asks if it is.


The swordfish picture. Nice shorts, ho-bag. Get out of my house.


There's a reason this fish is in my basement. Sweet Christ on a cracker.



Is there a Betty Ford Clinic for people who can't say no? I apparently suffer from some sort of I-don't-wanna-offend-you-even-though-I-still-cuss-like-a-sailor kinda thing. But I really need to work on gracefully turning folks down. Suggestions?

P.S. I'll still be cussing like a sailor, bitches. Don't try and fuck with that.
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Random Fruit Fact: Salal Berries

"produces lovely dark purple berries around this time of year which taste a little like gamy blueberries. Getting anyone to eat these berries is damn near impossible. "

Should've called me. I'll apparently take anything. Learn more about the salal berry, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/15/2005 09:57:00 PM 13 comments

Why The Velveteen Rabbit Can Kiss My Big White Butt

Reading Laurenbove’s post about her blender brought to mind my own issues with throwing out useful things that have reached their untimely end.

Long ago, when I was just a little plum, we didn’t have any neighbors with kids. I was an only child and learned to keep myself entertained in ways that seem sad now, but were really fun at the time. I’d sing and read out loud to myself. I’d do silly dances in the mirror. I’d build pillow forts and tear them down. I'd climb the 4 story tree in the backyard, hang from a branch uspide down by my knees and wave to Mama Spurious on the 2nd floor, just to make her shriek. That sort of thing.

I even used play hide and go seek with myself. I remember Mama Spurious peeking into the linen closet and asking me what I was doing, curled up on top of the sheets with a picture book and a flashlight.

“I’m hiding.” I sniffed, like she should know.

“Are you hiding from me?” Mama Spurious asked.

“Uh, no. I’m hiding from ME.”

Oh. The fun child psychologists could have with that.

Shortly after that, I was plunked into pre-school and started visiting other kid’s houses on play-dates, presumably to get some age appropriate contact. But I never forgot what it was like to be by myself.

One afternoon, sometime after Halloween, I was eating my daily ration of post-holiday candy (5 pieces a day - of my choice) when Mama and Papa Spurious saw me tying the wrappers together in a little knot. Mama Spurious was curious, “What are you doing that for?”

“I’m tying them together, so the wrappers won’t get lonely in the dump.”

Jesus. I was a moron.

Which brings us back to the original topic. Reading Laurenbove’s post (in which she gets sweetly sentimental about a blender she can’t bear to part with), forces me to admit that I feel the same way about inanimate objects. Fortunately I’ve found a way to cope. Everytime something fizzles out, gets burnt beyond all recognition or just generally outlives its usefulness, I put it out in the front yard and take a picture of it. Then I can chuck it, since it's officially been immortalized. In this way, my own personal Gallery of Lost Souls was created. Behold:

The lonely timer that stopped working, which we used when I was a small plum at Mama and Papa Spurious' house.


The wedding present teapot that burned the shit out of me and its own handle, and which would never, EVER be clean.


I'd like to thank the Velveteen Rabbit for convincing me that EVERY-DAMN-THING has a soul. What is it with bunnies and fiction? I'm not even going to mention the crap that happened in my dorky little mind when I read Watership Down. Damn bunnies.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Cuachilote

"This highly ornamental tree is a conversation piece due to the interesting shape of its leaves and the greenish-cream flowers that grow directly from the stem or branch tips. The 12" long fruit resembles a greenish-yellow cucumber. The fibrous fruit is juicy with a sweet flavour similar to sugar cane."

Having your daughter hanging from the tree in the backyard is a conversation piece too... Learn more about the cuachilote, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/12/2005 07:16:00 PM 13 comments

An Expository Essay On Speech – OR – Writing Practice For College

So, in addition to finding a place and getting my old job back at the neurosurgeon’s office (hooray!) I’ll also going back to junior college (joy) to complete prerequisites for an accelerated BSN degree so I can be a nurse practitioner or a nurse anesthetist.

Let me emphasize this.

I’ll be working full-time AND going to school. And I’m not taking Underwater Basket Weaving or Ass Hattery 101. My classes will be HARD. Hard enough for me to seriously doubt my ability to PASS, since all I have is a sorry-ass BA in English. Check it:

Biochemistry
Microbiology
Bioethics
Developmental Psychology
Organic Chemistry
Physiology
Anatomy
And the most heinous of all: Speech

Ya’ll need a little history lesson on this one. Back in my junior college days, my ENTIRE decision of which university to attend was based on whether I’d have to take a speech class. There’s nothing (at least nothing I can think of - and I can think of a LOT of scary things) that I wouldn’t do to avoid taking speech. If I could skip speech by taking a job professionally throwing puppies into a volcano, I’d say you’re looking at your next Head of Puppy Chucking Management.*

To procrastinate, I’ve signed up for Chemistry and Developmental Psych.

13 units of class + 40 hours of work = Spurious rides the white horse.

Maybe after Chemistry, I can make my own!**

*Please don’t be mad. There’s no way I can get out of this class, so there will be no puppy chucking. If someone makes the offer and it’s legit though, I’ll have to at least CONSIDER it.

**I’m not going to make coke, nor do I want any for myself. Please don’t send me any.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Brazilian Cherry

“...often made into jam, jelly, relish or pickles. Brazilians ferment the juice into vinegar or wine, and sometimes prepare a distilled liquor.”

Ah, booze! Hey, I used it to get through school the first time…Learn more about the brazilian cherry, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/11/2005 02:31:00 PM 15 comments

HalleFuckingLujah - OR - Casa De Spurious' New Digs

SweetholymothermaymotherofGod, as of last night, 11:00pm EST, Mateo and I have secured an apartment. I can’t begin to express the relief this brings. Getting an apartment in Los Angeles is like entering the 7th circle of hell, but with more ass-kissing. LA landlords feel totally comfortable demanding credit checks, references, genetic testing, burnt offerings and your first born child. And they’ll gleefully charge you $40 for the privilege.

After searching non-stop for 3 days, we found a place on craigslist (Craig, I owe your ass) and went for a viewing. It was perfect. No, really. I actually wasn’t sure if I was cool enough to live there. It has a dishwasher (**angels singing**), all new everything and a marvelous bathroom. After 2 years of indentured hateration to my current bathroom, looking at the floor of a beautiful, jankiness-free restroom was enough to make me drop to my knees and weep.

I can ride a bike to work, there’s a Whole Foods nearby (cause Mateo and I are the Damn Dirty Hippy Twins) and a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf down the street. Because Starbucks can smooch on my pooper.

Most important of all, it has a roof, and it’s in a neighborhood where I won’t get SHOT.

Praise be to the mighty apartment gods. Cause idolatry rules.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Artichoke

Almost 100% of artichokes distributed in the US come from California.

“The varieties of artichokes grown during the summer months love the marine layer of gray clouds that hang over the coastal areas, keeping back the bright sun and heat just over the hills. This climate allows the artichokes to plump up and round out before reaching maturity and harvest.”

Speaking of plumping up and rounding out, I’m glad there’s a gym in the basement of our new place, cause Mateo and I have some serious catching-up to do in the Mexican food department. Learn more about the artichoke’s round plumpness, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/10/2005 10:47:00 AM 18 comments

Listy Thingy From My Long Lost Sister SFG

I love a good listy thing. Got this one from the mighty SFG who's the pinacle of New Orleans southern niceness- but with a lovely edge. Kind of like an amaretto sour, she's sweet, but packs a punch. So here goes. Thanks SFG!

10 years ago: August 1995 - Was going to junior college like a sucka. Worked at The Pond and at a car wash, yet still needed financial help from my parents. It was at this car wash that I learned 400 ways to insult someone's mom in Spanish. This has been a useful skill in the workplace.

5 years ago: August 2000 - Had the worst job in the universe at an entertainment internet start-up. I used to go into the bathroom and cry. Several times a day. I was fired after 3 months for not being bitchy enough. Seriously. Working there provided me with perspective though, since every other job I've had is better than that one. Wouldn't take much.

1 year ago:Was planning on moving out of Casa De Spurious to someplace else in the Pittsburgh. After realizing we'd just be moving again, back to LA, in a year, we determined that an extra move was too much of a pain in the ass. My ass bothers me enough, it doesn't need extra credit.

Yesterday: Got stinko on Belgian beer with our friends Super Teacher and Almighty Archivist at The Sharp Edge. If you like beer, this place is like Mecca. I lay out a Hoogarten bar towel and pray in their direction several times a day.

Today: Ate a tasty Thai food dinner w/ Mateo and a visiting medical student from DC. We're the Ethnic Food Posse. Getting ready for my trip to LA to go house hunting. Slum lords, here I come!

Tomorrow: Fly into LA in the early morning. Um, we'll unfortunately be there until the 10th, so I'll be taking a little break until then. Promise I'll be back soon. Try not to weep too effusively.

5 snacks I enjoy: Peanut butter on a spoon (otherwise known as 'the fast track to fat city'), a handful of dried cereal, almonds, diet coke (it IS a snack), and chocolate/minty Zone bars.

5 bands that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: Grant Lee Buffalo, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Morphine, Belle and Sebastian, Prince.

5 things I would do with $100,000,000: Pay off Mateo's student loans, buy a second car, buy a place to live, feed some homeless people and donate some serious money to the American Cancer Society.

5 locations I'd like to run away to: Japan, Australia, India, Oaxaca, New Zealand.

5 bad habits I have:Biting the nails (what's up, SFG?), procrastination, flakiness, nervous talkitiveness and not exercizing enough.

5 things I like doing: Reading, watching old movies with Mateo, drinking too much Belgian beer, visiting with old friends and blogging like a muthafucka. My move is cutting into the last one, and I don't like that one bit.

5 things I would never wear: Spandex, tucked-in shirts, stretch pants, anything with pleats and shorts. Nothing against shorts, I just look like a tool when I wear them.

5 TV shows I like: Family Guy, Nova, 106 and Park, Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends and Samurai Champloo.

5 movies I like: Spirited Away, March of the Penguins, The Jewel Thief, The Jerk and Cabin Boy(because its soooooo awful).

5 famous people I'd like to meet: George W. Bush (with a machete, please), Nelson Mandela, Barack Obama, BB King and Loretta Lynn.

5 biggest joys at the moment: Husband Mateo, the fact that we're moving home to our friends and family in LA, Java- the dog next door, quitting my job on 8/19 and having my old job back at a sweet neurosurgeon's office in LA.

5 favorite toys: Our toy bull that plays 'Malaga' and runs around the house, our lovely computer, Mr. Nikkon Coolpix, our blessed air conditioner and my overheating cell phone.

5 People to tag: Steal it if you want it!

I'll be back in a week or so. Stay cool, and keep drinking!
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Random Fruit Fact: The Thimbleberry

"The taste of the fruit is unique and most people either like or dislike them intensely--there seems to be no middle ground. "

It might be nice to be like the thimbleberry. There's a refreshing clarity about people like that. Learn more about the thimbleberry's 'take it or leave it' attitude, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/03/2005 07:40:00 PM 17 comments

Memo To The Fashion Impaired Public – The Pleated Menace

I know I'm not the first person to discuss this, nor will I be the last.

I've seen a lot of people in the hot summer weather wearing voluminous pleated shorts and a tucked-in shirt. Please be advised that:

Pleated Shorts + Tucked-In Shirt = Your Ticket To Fashion Abomination City Has Been Punched.

***THIS IS A TEST OF THE TANGENT SYSTEM***
Really, anything pleated or tucked-in is bad news, but let's just leave it at this:

Pleats
Contrary to the lies regarding the vertical slimming effect of pleats, the bastards actually draw attention to areas most of us try to downplay. If you bought into the pleat myth, let me tell you, YOU GOT HOSED. Burn everything now and repeat after me: flat front. You'll thank me later.

Tucking-in
I'm smart enough to know when I'm beat. If you're tucking-in, you probably have a tuck-in history. I can't compete with history. But someday just TRY un-tucking. Note that you don't have a circle of sweat around your tummy when you unbutton your pants. Note that it doesn't matter if you're wearing a belt or not, since no one can see. Feel the breezes breezing under your shirt and revel in your sweet monkey freedom. It's like vacation everyday. You'll convert, I swear.
***THIS HAS BEEN A TEST OF THE TANGENT SYSTEM. HAD THIS BEEN A REAL TANGENT, THE ORIGINAL TOPIC WOULD BE LOST, AND WE'D BE FUCKED, WOULDN'T WE? THANK YOU***

So. Tucked in Pleated Shorts Syndrome (or The Pleated Menace).

Mateo and didn't see much of The Pleated Menace in California, FOR IT IS BLASPHEMY. You're cruising for a bruising with the Shorts Gods if you fuck with their natural order. Maybe some folks enjoy a good smiting, but that's what dominatrixes are for, not tucked-in shorts.

While I realize places with actual seasons aren't as condusive to year round short wearing as CA, and that a limited short wearing season leaves less time to ponder the pitfalls of The Pleated Menace, just for once listen to us Californians. We may not know how to elect a governor, but goddammit, we know how to wear shorts.

The pleated menace is a double threat. It combines two things which emphasize an area most people are trying to minimize. Making women look like they're sporting secret man junk, and men look like a strappy pickle barrel. I love ya'll no matter what, but I want to help. Since I ASSUME most people aren't going for these looks, I've created the 12-step program for to rid folks of The Pleated Menace. Truly changing oneself is hard, but worth the effort in the end.

Step 1: Admit your powerlessness over The Pleated Menace.
Shorts are casual. If you're trying to fancy them up by giving them pleats and tucking-in, you have a problem.

Step 2: Believe a power greater than oneself (the Shorts Gods) can restore sanity.
If you can't see them, make some margarita's and try later.

Step 3: Make a decision to turn life over to the greater power.
(If you do it, you get to go shopping for better shorts when you sober up....Hot.)

Step 4: Make a searching and fearless moral (and wardrobe) inventory.
Find all the items that contribute to The Pleated Menace, and separate them from the rest of your clothing. For they have cooties.

Step 5: Admit to the higher power, to oneself and to other human beings the exact nature of wrongs. Be honest about what's been done, and hide nothing.
No hiding stuff in case you change your mind, you big cheater.

Step 6: Be entirely ready to have The Shorts Gods remove all defects of character.
Call the Goodwill and schedule a pick up at your house. Share margarita's with them.

Step 7: Humbly ask The Shorts Gods to remove shortcomings.
Actually give the stuff to the Goodwill. You can cry, and wave as the truck drives away, but get rid of it! If you don't, it'll call to you in the night and you may be tempted. Temptation sucks.

Step 8: Make a list of all persons harmed and be willing to make amends.
An easy place to start would be all the people you took pictures with while wearing the Pleated Menace.

Step 9: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
Offer to take another picture with these folks. Burn all original photos containing The Pleated Menace. Don't set anyone on fire.

Step 10: Continue to take personal inventory and admitted new wrongs.
If you find something after the Goodwill leaves (you sneaky bastard). Get rid of it. Keep drinking.

Step 11: Seek through prayer and meditation to unconsciousnscious/unconcious contact with the Shorts Gods, praying only for knowledge of their will.
After all that drinking, you may black out. But you're just getting closer to your goal, so don't sweat it. If you don't pass out, keep drinking and you will.

Step 12: Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, try to carry the message to folks trapped by The Pleated Menace and to practice these principles in all affairs.
Preach the gospel to others...please!
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No fruit today, this is too long already. This time the fruit's in the booze. Go forth and margaritafy thyselves. Big fatty margaritas to Michael at 2blowhards.com . Thanks for doubling my web traffic! (All you regulars get double shots).

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 8/01/2005 07:35:00 PM 19 comments