I present to you, the World's Longest Palindrome! Of course, I had to look up the word, palindrome, on the dictionary. What odd things that people do!

How did Sobe enter society as a mainstream beverage? It says "Lizard Fuel" on the bottle, and has a drawing of a mean lizard, driving what looks like a mean unicycle, or perhaps a bicycle with an exceedingly large front wheel.

It's so cold right now. I am reminded of a scene from Titanic, the little movie that could -- where of course, the characters are in the icy waters of the north Atlantic... I guess perhaps that is colder, but being barefoot in December when it's 50 degrees is pretty darn cold too. My hands are stiff, in fact, and it is very difficult to type.

I am looking to do another overhaul on this blog interface. Something not so yellow. I like this page too, but I can't keep it forever! I haven't decided on what the page should look. I've always had an interesting collection of templates for my blog, which I've displayed promptly through out this year. I don't have much time these days to be working on html (which is a daunting task, even for an uber-cyber-geek such as myself), but I want to get it up and going in time for my blog's first anniversary, which is February 1. I first thought that this blog would be my own attempt to follow a fad -- when it died out, I would just as promptly desert it. However, this stuff is addictive, and I can't let a day go by without updating. Well, actually, I could. I'll just feel queasy and uneasy until the next satisfactory (none of that one liner craps that some bloggers call updates) post. I digress. But just wondering...

When did people make it official, that after the end of a sentence, there would be only one space? As a child, I was taught that after each sentence comes two distinct taps on the space bar. When did this phenomena occur? Where was I during that time?

The temperature is supposed to dip close to freezing tonight! It's currently in the low 50's, which is just Brrrr~!

I haven't blogged for 48 hours and people are sending out rescue teams! No, I did not die in the earth quake, or a tsunami caused by the earth quake. In fact, I didn't even feel it -- its epicenter was in Central Cal, which would be about 300 miles away! And no, I am not one of the people missing from the massive landslides that happened due to the recent Christmas rain. Thank goodness. But I really feel for those people out there. The landslides were more devastating because the recent fires in October have burnt everything down, and the wimpy rain we had (no hail or anything) caused landslides and flooding!

Having said that, I do have to say that I may as well be on my death bed. I went into work today, but like the last couple of days, I felt like crap, in the quite literal sense. It's been a bad final quarter for me -- the latter portion of 2003 has been like a cascading tidal wave. It pounds me down, and just when I come up to surface to take in a deep breath, I'm hit with another one. I'm actually getting a chance to truly bond with my toilet.

Love actually is all around. I saw the movie Love Actually, a.k.a. "chick flick." I don't normally like chick flicks, because I'm no ordinary chick, but the Access Hollywood host has said that if there is "no theatre playing this film near you, I will personally drive you to see this movie!" Or something to that extent, anyways. At the beginning my stomach was feeling queasy from the White Russian that I had before the movie. But soon I forgot all things painful, because this movie was really touching. With most chick flicks, I can always sense the makers of the movies, trying to manipulate the little strings to our hearts so that we'd be touched and moved by the end of the film. Manipulative bastards! However, in this movie, I didn't feel that. It felt genuinely good, which is more than I can say for all other chick flicks that exist. I actually had tears in my eyes (although I've been known to tear up during various AT&T Long Distance commercials).

There was one part that really moved me. There's this man, who is a writer. He is English, and speaks nothing but. This woman, who comes to clean his house, is Portuguese, and speaks nothing but Portuguese also. When the woman talks, what she says is translated to English in a subtitle -- we can see that they can't understand what each other is saying, but is always saying the same thing. Except for this one line. The man always drives the lady home after work. He says to her, this is my favorite time of the day -- driving you. She doesn't understand him, but she says in Portuguese -- this is my saddest time of the day -- leaving you. Maybe I haven't quite captured the essense of romance there (not much of a romanticist anyways!) but then I guess it's something that "you had to be there" to get it. Watch it. It's a pretty good excuse to let your brain rest for two hours.

Well, I've done my job for today. I am alive, still, however fragile my foothold is on life.

I know I wasn't going to mention the gory details of my pain, but I have just woken up, at 1:40 AM, on Christmas morning, from severe abdominal pain. Nothing like abdominal pain to wake you up on Christmas morning. Either Santa Claus ran out of the usual lump of coal and had me jabbed in the stomach by Rudolph's horns, or I'm in for a "so-ill-it's-memorable" Christmas.

OH... did I say to enjoy the small things and the details in life? Yeah... I'm going to sound real hypocritical.... but that only works when you're not groaning from the seemingly eternal grasp of hell that refuses to unleash you!

It's going to be a drizzly Christmas...

Yesterday was the sheer essence of hell, condensed into one day. I was sick. I will not say more, because it is Christmas Eve, and those who read this blog have better things to do than turn green from the nasty, gory details of my illness. So consider yourselves spared!

Still, even with the frequent sickness and craziness at work, this particular season has been good. Actually, more important, than good. I was confirmed, once again, what I was put on this earth to do. I find it a true blessing to actually have that confirmation -- a calling, if you will. I don't believe in God, or Allah, and nor am I all that spiritual. But I do have some notion that we are all here to do something. Perhaps it is to settle and have a family. Perhaps it is to go to the midwest and start growin' some corn. Perhaps it is to become a suicide bomber in Iraq. Whatever it is, I believe that we all have a goal-like point we are all trying to drive to. Some people don't have a clue as to where that point is, and some have a vague idea. I think a select few have a clear and secure knowledge of this point. Great people, like MLK, or Ghandi, or even Hitler. (This point I talk about is not necessarily one that the general consensus find to be good.)

So when I am surrounded by people who are like driftwood -- just living day to day to see how life turns out, or pursuing something because they are unsure but must do something, I feel lucky. Since a year or two ago, I found myself realizing what I must do. Every once in a while, I get an epiphany sort-of, that keeps me from drifting away. I do sometimes get dissuaded and feel as though just living the expected (i.e. graduate college, get married, pump out some kids, nag at my husband, etc.) would suffice, but then something hits me like a blunt and severe blow to the head, and I get this validation, a confirmation, of what I need to do. It's a great feeling. This season I had another one of those blows, so I have more than enough for which to be thankful.

It's horrible this season, especially for once-affluent California. Supermarket workers are on strike, a massive quake shook the heartland of Cal, the fires that caused ash to snow from the sky, and the recall election of the governor... a lot of craziness has happened. I'm sure it is similar with other parts of the world -- the battles are not over in Iraq. Just today three flights from Paris to the U.S. have been cancelled due to security reasons.

So in short... There's problems all around. There's bad things and evilness. But as we wrap up this year of 2003, look introspectively for your happiness and summation of the year. Being together with family, being healthy enough to shop for gifts, being able to laugh at an episode of The Simpsons -- these are small things but these are the things that happiness is made of. I said I was unhappy before. I think that was because I saw the big picture, but not the small details. Enjoy the small things, the petty things. That is what I wanted to say, in bringing this year to a close. Happy Holidays.

There was a large earthquake today in central Cal. It was supposedly felt all the way from LA to San Jose, and had a magnitude of 6.5, but I felt nothing, and I am in Los Angeles. Evidently, three people (so far) have been counted as the death toll -- I guess I feel sadness for the victims and their families, but feel a bit of relief because the numbers aren't as devastating as it could have been. I recall the Northridge quake vividly -- it was 6.7 if I remember correctly, and the Northridge area was pretty heavily demolished. I live about 20 miles away, but nothing in my home town was destroyed. Thank goodness.

In January, I am going to really dig into my Clarinet (figuratively, of course). I bought it months ago, and haven't blown on it much -- some scales when I first bought it, but no music! Wind instruments are notoriously difficult for me because I have such weaklings for lungs -- but I suppose that can be trained. Also, I have decided to take up painting and drawing again. It releases so much stress and anger. Not only does it release negativity, it channels it into a productive angle and makes me... well, productive. Art is good. I was a fan of pastels and charcoals, sometimes even chalk. I guess it's just my inner impressionist trying to break free. I like bold paints too, and water color, but they do require so much practice before it starts to look even remotely good. I already have two brand new set of watercolor/paint brushes, as well as watercolor and paint, and a lot of charcoal too. And a good eraser. So once I get over the fear of the blank page (when I sit in front of a clean white page, pondering what I should do, I start to freeze and get scared for some reason... more so with art than with writing), I should be well on my way.

I haven't gone to work out in several months. I think more than three four months now. I should be ashamed -- I pay monthly dues for this without going. It's like donating money. To a ridiculously well-off corporation! I also became an even bigger slob because I've been mooching around the house all the time doing absolutely nothing of importance. I am 4 sizes larger than I was 3 years ago. My ass is so huge, I'm pretty sure I can use it as a shelf! It's not something that I appreciate. While I do love the womanliness a female body possesses, being unproportional and unhealthy is not something I seek. Aigo ya... Must get back to work.

Once again the terror threat level has been raised to Orange. Up, down, up, down...