Going through the "In Box:"

Local to Denver? Looking for a Show? There are only about eight jillion every week.

SO here are some bands in the area that you should definately get out there to see:

Best of the Best: Karate Kid 1:

The Funeral
website: www.thefuneralmusic.com
why bother?: because they're proffessional, talented, loads of fun, and the drummer's fiance does a bang-up job on my hair. plus - they start a spring tour TONIGHT in BOULDER (with transitus. Can't make the drive? They'll be at the Rockstars DJ Party Friday Night at the walnut room..
[shameless work-plug aside... we're moving on...]











Michael Rossback
website: www.michaelrossback.com
why bother?: i get a lot of solo-dudes. i actually put him on my iPod. Right away... and listened to a few of his songs over and over for a few days. He's from Colo. Springs and can bring 'it,' if by 'it,' you mean "hot shit."







Jeff Finlin:
Website: www.jefffinlinonline.co.uk
why bother?: because he kind of reminds me of Mason Jennings and he's from the UK [now in residence in Ft. Collins].


















For The Holiday: Website: www.fortheholiday.com
why bother?: cause they're good. [think...sigur ros/radiohead/death cab for cutieish]





The Starlight Drifters:
Website: www.starlightdrifters.com
Why bother?: because the lead singer told me that La Quinta meant, "Next To The Denny's" in spanish.









Others to Check out, that i'm too tired to find a picture for:
Melissa Ivey, Angie Stevens, Discover



Mediocore Clan:
802: website: www.802rocks.com
why bother?: because if you're bellacose boozer, it'd be really fun to see you whippin' your body to their music. they're great, good presence, but i'd def. have to be in just the right mood to listen...

Check em out and see what you think.

Up and Running...

Go HERE.

Seven Shades of Grapes and Spinich... All over My Car.

Yeah... I had fun last night.

I saw my first, ever , live-in-person transvestite (i know. i feel so south dakota). 'she' had great legs.

Way too much abuse of the 'drunk phone-call' and 'text message...' but woke up feeling not too terribly aweful.

I threw up 12 times:

Thrice on my car (which, may i ad, was at 65 miles an hour out the passenger window on the freeway. gross.), six times in the toilet and i think... three times in the shower.
It's times like those that you really wish you had someone around to take care of you, as i've done for a jillion of my friends so many times before.

But alas... I am at work, I am functioning, and I'm about ready to try eating.
Ow. Ow. Chica Chica Ow!

Regardless, there is still a quality post coming.
As soon as i, you know... eat and stop feeling like shite.

I hope my boss shows up soon. We have a meeting in 9 minutes.

Killer

That Damn Beatrix Kiddo.

I just sat at the bar and watched BOTH Kill Bill Movies.

In between, i was hanging out with Transitus in the hallway... Saw Chris - Called out his name as he passed and he kissed me.

Bizarre.

Totally not recipricated. Fabulous!

I just came home around 12:30am to an e-mail from my favorite matt (suprising) and am now watching some Family Guy (with the angry closet monkey and hickadoola!) and eating cocoa Rice Crispies.

That's right. Minutes before i crawl in bed... I'm hardcore!

But my biggest concern does not lie with eating sugar before i sleep.
No...my biggest concern at the moment is that my cats have just spent 15 hours inside... all day, and have not been able to poop.

Their litterbox is out on my patio to keep the house clear of smell. I forgot to open the door for them.

Such good kittens. I can't believe they didn't have a poopfest all over my house.

And based on this very small detail, this has been a very good day.

Worthless

Actually... worthwhile.

I spent the entire day writing. Now i'm semi-watching Bottle Rockets... Owen Wilson looks REALLY stupid with a buzzcut.

Anyone in Denver that rents out apartments reading this?

If yes, do you have anything around, oh... 550-750$$... good quare footage (750+) in Capitol Hill, Highlands, Five Points or Cherry Creek? Washer and Dryer a plus, and if utilities are included (at all) that would rock major casbah as well...

let me know.

I think i'm going to wake up to try and win tickets to Oprah on Saturday tomorrow morning. That would be sweet.

Oprah's the bomb. Maybe she'll give me a moped. Or $10,000 to buy all my dream furniture and bedding from Z-gallerie.
Awwwww shit.

How would you like hooking up with someone who didn't speak your language?
How many of you actually have?
I think it'd be hot.

I also think i'm pretty lacking on writing material (because i just churned out about six today for my freelance jobs), so sorry for that. I'll dream up something tit-alizing for tomorrow, kids.

ar-ivoir!

sad bastard

i'm sad. about a lot of things that don't warrant posting.

sort of realizing i'm doing so many things wrong... it's no wonder i don't get my desired results. it's easier to wallow than change, sometimes... don't you think?

maybe someone should start an [i hate sami] blog.
oh, and if you haven't been... go here. and send me a postcard.

i have to write a story on the mars volta and the shins tomorrow.
if you have any interesting factoids, e-mail them to me.

that would be super.

a pleasant evening and spacious tomorrows. or something of the sort.

someday is my favorite...

pink is the new hairstyle!

homegirl's got some pink ass hair:



In addition... i sat at capitol grille with my boss all yesterday afternoon getting drunk. that was really funny.

then came home and slept 14 hours.

i probably should work on all of those articles that i have due like... right now.

Three calls + Three AM and Payphone = Worry

I awoke at 3:03am to The Strokes, "Automatic Stop" blaring out of my phone speaker.

Wierd... no one that isn't special enough to have a different ringer would ever call me this late.

I didn't recognize the number, so i silenced my phone and rolled back over in bed.
Again, at 3:05am, my phone rang from the same number.

get the fucking hint, man. i'm sleeping.

I silenced the phone again and waited for my phone to alert me of voicemail.

[no voicemail] but...

at 3:06am, my phone rings again from the same number.

Now i'm jus pissed. but still hoping for a message.

No message.

How many people in colorado know my number? Seven? I thought it could have been the deushbag italian [i.e. the Kevin Federline look-a-like]. i deleted his number long ago.. i would have no caller identification rights. Perhaps someone that was drunk and lonely. or just drunk and wanting to talk to me? that's fine.






Around 3:09am, i call the number back, figuring, "oh, ok. I'll see who it is and what they want. maybe it'll be some long lost person."


[Bee...deee.beeeep. The number 8-3-1----9-8-8-8 cannot recieve incoming calls. 8-3-1---9-8-8-8 cannot recieve incoming calls. *click*].

Fuuuuuck.

Honestly. I thot maybe, just maybe it was chris. he can't call me from his phone because he has no long distance... so it definately seemed feasible. maybe he called from a pay phone. but my number is long distance... could you really throw in that much change so quickly? and, further... if he were using a calling card, there's no way he could dial the phone card number, the code, my number and all of that other bullshit within a minutes time [3:05-3:06am].

Then my gut turned and i worried. What if he, or someone i love... was in jail... and i was their one phone call. It happens. I know about... three people in colorado that would definately have me as their first person to call to bail their ass out of jail. Two of which, would actually end up in jail, considering their lifestyles/circumstance.

fuuuuuuuck.

Except... don't you think they'd leave a message?

Something like... "Hey. This is so and so... I um... am in trouble, and need you to come to 702 Jailbird Lane and bring $300. I'll explain later. Thanks..."

Maybe they were calling from a payphone.
Maybe they were calling from a payphone in an airport.
It couldn't have been a wrong number, because they wouldn't have called back three times.

I wish i would have answered my fucking phone now.
[though i'm skiddish since i recieved a sexual harrassment/threatening phone call around that time while at school one year]

If anyone knows this number: 303-831-9888... or you are, in fact, the person that called me, can you please tell me what the fuck is up and let me know if you're ok? i'm a little worried.

Follow Up to: So BLACKLISTED!

yeah...

let's compare this, shall we:

What they said I said:

"Many different music genres into one band... the music is solid, tight... this is great."
- --me, The Front Magazine

What I actually said:
Date: Tue, 15 Mar 2005 16:57:49 -0700
I can appreciate the change-up with the Rap... but sometimes it seems too busy. Sort of like you are trying to fit too many different music genres into one band...?
your voice is strong, tho it reminds me a little of Scott Stapp, of Creed Fame/ 80s ballad bands...

the music is solid... tight - for live recording, this is great... but it just feels like something is missing -- can't put my finger on it - but it may be that there's just too much going on within' a song??

not sure...

Yeah... that sounds the same.
someone's been playing too many games of telephone!

SO BLACKLISTED!

A friend of mine is a google master.

And if ever i start some business firm, and need someone to do all of my investigative backing to make sure i don't need to sick the mafia on anyone's ass... he's my man.

I"m particularly pissed off right now because a certain band that has been bugging me every fucking five seconds at my job about 'booking a show at the walnut room" posted a review on their website from me:

"Many different music genres into one band... the music is solid, tight... this is great."
- Me, The Front Magazine

This wouldn't be a problem, had I said it was OK to use my name. OH yeah... and i had actually said that...

Unfortunately, i did not. i mean.. i did, but not in that order. or in that regard.

Not only that, but the personal e-mail that was exchanged between me and the lead singer had nothing to do with the publication i write for. AT ALL.

Totally, not fuckin' cool.

I'm a journalism major, bitches. I know all the tricks of switching quotes around to put them in good favor. but one thing you need to know when concerning stuff like this: to quote someone, you need their fucking permission.

So i contacted them via e-mail:

"This is Samantha Lien from The Walnut Room. A friend of mine just pointed out to me that you had posted a quote from me on your website, as, "Samantha Lien, The Front Magazine."

Not only is that NOT what i said, it had nothing to do with The Front Magazine AT ALL, and i really don't appreciate you posting this.

Please take this down immediately.

Samantha"

I'm not at work, so i can't tell you what i wrote in this so-called "review" right now...but i'm pretty sure it was a polite variation of:

"hi.. you suck. you sound like an 80s hair band trying to mix in reggea, rap and Scott Stapp's [Creed] lead vocals."

i pulled a Paula Abdul and tried to give your rhythm section props. i was just looking for something nice to relay so you could build your egos at your 'band meeting' that night.

I look forward to comparing the e-mail i actually sent you to the quote you placed on your website... as i still have the 'review' saved on my account at work...

As for this band... i don't know if you ever visit this website, but consider our 'business relationship' terminated. In regards to The Walnut Room, don't call. Don't e-mail. Don't stop by asking for a summer date so you can bring in all of your really loyal fanbase.

Maybe next time you're trying to help yourselves out to a beneficial opportunity or trying to grab a favor, like so many of the other bands out there just like you... you should really think before your act.

[That or don't do shady shit like the above with the person you are trying to retain business from. Get a brain!]

dammmn!

if i thot i could beat this post today, i would.

but i can't. it's just too brilliant.

"my body is taking on storage.
fat storage.
not sure why, but it's stopping next week.

i'm not really enjoying feeling chubby so much.
so, it prompts me to crawl into bed and get lost in blankets, because you can't see fat when it's covered up!

instead of my rant on the chub-factor... i will leave you with this hot video of matty nay... who is at u2 tonight... and going again tomorrow night.

[click matt to watch]

"Wow.. you're die hard."
"Yeah... well usually i go like... 26 times, but the tori tour kinda got in the way this time..."

Matt is very scary!

Something I'd really like cleared up.

Who was the guy that claimed, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder?'.
Cause i'd really like to meet that bitch.

I tried to look 'him' up, and it was only stated as 'An American Proverb.'

What i really think it means: some Deuchebag is ashamed for saying something so bitch-ass retarded that they didn't want to claim their illustrious quote.

Lame.

I know i can't be the only person who doubts this 'American Proverb' --- Hell, some college chic did an entire study on it.

If anyone can give me an instance where this, is actually true, i will gladly give you some service with a smile... whatever your service request may be.

Let me tell you why i think this guy is complete bullshit
because i have several examples to support my argument:

Situation ONE: Take this chic waiting for some guy to call her: Do you think she actually loves the guy?

Pshh...no. No... she just misses the attention. She could easily go out to a bar, a concert... even go running and she'd meet someone else. She just hasn't figured it out yet, because she has such an affinity for the vintage chorded phone.

Yeah...that's it.

Her heart isn't fond of her long-distance boyfriend.

Trust me. I had three roomates that all broke up with their long-term, far-away boy toys because they weren't around. Yes... i'm sure you are different. You're going to last forever.

Until you meet some other guy that's nearby. In your neighborhood. And will hang out with you every fucking day, instead of during a planned trip once every three months or so.

Furthermore... if you break up with someone, and they want to be 'best friends' after and act like it's no big deal, Tell them to Fuck off. It's much easier to get over shit when they completley disapear [a direct example that absence makes the heart less fonder].

Conclusion:: The heart's not fonder. The insecurity, penis/vagina, hips, lips, thighs, etc. etc. etc. are.

Situation TWO: The 100lb weight-loss.

Let's not be confused here. This woman was one tubby bitch. I'm sure she's coping with her emotional food demons of pre- weight loss. I'm sure she's still learning how to eat properly, and how to manage her diet and excercise routine while maintaining a busy swimsuit modeling career.

I don't doubt that.

But do you really think the inner fat girl inside's heart is going "Fat! How I miss thee! Let me count the ways."
Uh. No. She's probably got more confidence around people, which leads her to believe that she's hotter [which she is because she's more secure... not because she's more thin], which leads her to believe that fat is EVIL and was once the cause of all of her problems.

Conclusion:The heart's not fonder. But i guess her size 6-8 jeans probably are.

Situation THREE: That High School Jock Guy.

This isn't so much a situation, as much as it is a point that you're cooler than this guy.

I know all of you knew a guy like this in High School. Because they exist everywhere; be it a population 1200 po-dunk town or some ritzy teen-movie high school in hollywood.

The keyword here is, knew. You knew this guy. You don't know him now, because he still longs for his high school days, and that just makes him a loser.

These days were his high point. He was top dawg, bro! The girls were dumb, the beer was heavily on tap (at parties, for free... because he was... uh... you know... hot), and he didn't have to go to class because he was junior varsity lineman for the football team (vomit).

Now he's sitting around, balding considerably, finally putting on weight and wondering if some hot 18-year-old would still go for his loser ass. He's probably working at your local furniture store, too.

Conclusion: This is an example of fondness gone wrong. Do you really want to be like Uncle Rico, longing for 1982? GET OVER IT.

But still...i digress: the heart's not fond! The Ego is!

Situation FOUR:: The Pac Rat:

I know you. You save everything, thinking, 'oh...one day i'll wear this!' or 'that could come back into style one day... my ass ain't too big!'.

But then your level-headed monica geller-of-a-friend comes in and talks some logic into your giant hoarding butt.

You clear out the clutter. Make room for good shit in your life. Maybe you even make a few bucks of the shitty stuff you sold, because some 14-year-old drummer in a band thot a sweatband would go over well for his 'image.'

Conclusion: The heart's not fonder. You're just lazy and need motivation, beyotch.
[note: this also includes furniture and all that other shit you put in your 'junk closet']

Situation FIVE: Chocolate! [or any other delicious substance]

I admit: Chocolate- big fan. big big big big fan. but mostly only when it's there. on the counter. looking at me.

Easter and Christmas come... and so does a huge basket/stocking full of...chocolate.

What do you do? eat the entire contents within a week. Bet you wouldn't have touched it if you hadn't of seen the suculant treat.

Move that shit out of my territory and i don't even thing about it. Fonder? Um... No.

Conclusion:: Your heart's not fonder. Your boredom needed a nice, tubby little buddy.

I could go on and on... [the chicken pox you had when you were five, the ingrown toenail that hurt like a bitch every time you went running... even really fabulous things, like living in a hotel for a week...] it all gets old. Your heart grows tired of it all... not fonder.

The american proverb guy was retarded.
Write your local congressman..
Tell them american proverb's are for sissys.

Why you've got to love Matt Nathanson

Because he's fucking hilarious. That's why.

and because he's been updating his journal like ca-razy.

and matty's coming to the Paramount Theater. Tomorrow Night with Tori Amos. Tickets are steep [$50], so i guess, i'll say... if you're a Tori fan, and have never heard of Matty Nay... watch the fuck out!

[i'm only going because i'm helping with merch. so if you come... say hi. i'll be the girl forcing matt apparrel on your ass, and breasts and... the like].

so, for your reading pleasure... another matty journal. you can read more here if you so choose.







04.04.05
atlanta, GA
celebrity fit club.

i have never eaten this much food on tour in my life.
at this rate, by the end of tour, there will be 2 entire me's traveling in the same me.
it's only the second day and i am completely overwhelmed by tori catering.
they do breakfast, lunch and dinner... most of it is organic.
kerry and i have started to plan our entire days around the feeding schedule.
like zombie cattle.
and when you get in to the 'feeding area', there is just way too much good shit to choose from.
our zombie cow brains can't handle it...
so we just eat and eat until we get sick or pass out.
today we tried to make it past the cookie tray, but i'm pretty sure the cookies actually called out our names.
and how can anyone say no to a talking cookie?

my mom has a cat who has no comprehension when she is full... her name is hobbes.
she also has some sort of kitty herpes, that makes her eyes water and makes her projectile sneeze green snot...but that's a story for another time.
anyway, when i lived at home, hobbes would eat all of her food, then move on to our other cat's (studley) food.
then she would whine for more.
i'm pretty sure she would have eaten herself to death with unlimited, unsupervised food access.
studley was not super down with the whole thing and would freak out everytime she would come near him and his food.
and he would growl like an angry racoon.
or like kerry, when he snores.
it got to the point where we had to feed studley first, and keep hobbes locked in a bedroom til he was finished.
at the rate we're going, kerry and i will have to be in fat kid lock down in our dressing room until all the other folks get their food.
it's that bad..
and people will start calling me the 'round' john mayer.

and i won't even mention the food that we get post show, that's supposed to be for back at the hotel.
they call it 'after show' food..
i like to call it 'can't see my man parts in the shower by the end of the tour, not cause they're particularly small, but because i'm shaped like a weeble' food.
rachel ray, look out.
new food network show 'fat singer kid'.

tons of fun,
matt

Suprisingly defensive...Oi Vey...

Yes. I feel really fat right now. But it will pass.

One other thing though, i'm not so sure about.

I got into a rousing discussion with my mother this evening. We're very open with each other. I can easily say she's my favorite person in the world, i respect her opinions and take all of her advice with the utmost admiration.

I mentioned her tonight that i'm heading down to arizona in may.
did i mention that to ya'all?
i'm pretty sure i did.
but if i didn't, i'm heading down to arizona in may. for five fun-filled days.

i don't really have a set plan for the trip. i hope to take a day or tour touring the best spots (jerome, sedona...maybe...mexico) with my favorite arizona boy, hit up peter, brandon and adam's show wed night when i fly in and also spend a considerable amount of time (a day or two) up in flagstaff to see all of my best girls.

splitting time consistently between all of my friends will be difficult. but i usually just let it fly and it works out the way it's supposed to.

something i've been thinking a lot about is where i'm going to stay.

it is assumed on both ends that i will stay with my best friend.
it would be easiest.
i always stay with him.
i would have possible use of his car (for really hilarious reasons).
it would be fun.
i wouldn't have responsibility to anyone or feel obligated to hang out with them by staying anywhere else. i'd want to be hanging out with my best friend, anyway.
so why the fuck don't i just stay with him?

this is where my mom and i got into a bit of a disagreement.

frankly, i don't think i really want to stay with him.
this has nothing to do with the fact that we had a three-year history that was retarded and i'm not sure at all why things went the way they went.

but the reasons for my hesitance include the following:
1. he has four cats, one dog, and a bed with a huge dent in the middle. not so hospitible to a guest.
2. obvious reasons conerning sex.
3. if i'm going to be hanging out with my favorite boy in az, i don't really want to call him up and say, "hey! can you come pick me up? I'm staying at [best friends name]." not that i'm pursueing anything there... but that's just not kosher... and i sort of already did that last june...Consider this situation. If i put myself in his shoes... i think i would feel wierd, too.

I have a few other options... and frankly, i think i'll be moving around so much while i'm there that I won't warrant ONE location as my homestay.

I'm mostly thinking i'm going to stay with my uncle. I can easily get rides... i can come and go as i please, and he has the most comfortable bed, couch and retardedly soft suede blankets. the only thing is i wouldn't want to be rude by staying out with friends and not spend time with him... which i would really love to do (he's one of my favorite uncles [which is speaking loud, since i have 10]. but i know me, and i know i'm going to schedule and get busy and not have time...

the point where my mom comes in is that when i mentioned maybe staying with my best friend, the conversation went as such:

me: "yeah. i think i may stay with [friend], but i'm thinking i don't really--"
mom: "nooooooo. don't do that."
me: "what? there's nothing there?"
mom: "because you're going to come home and call me and cry and say, 'mom... i'm so sad because so and so.."
me: "mom. there's nothing there! there hasn't been for like... a year, and definately not over the last six months! he's changed a lot."
mom: "no. he's bad for you. you need to stay away from him."
me: "mom. he's my best friend."
mom: "well i just think it's a bad idea."

Yes. It was a bad idea three years ago.

Maybe i'm overestimating him. Maybe my new life in denver has lead me to avoid all of the same habbits that he may still be carrying on with his life in arizona. i just don't have to deal with them because he's not calling me up to be buddy buddy after all of the meaningless women i used to see him go through all of the time...

but who the fuck cares?

i'm not going to enter into his territory and turn into the 19-year-old Sami that i was when i met him! JEES... give me a little credit, here.

And furthermore, give him a little credit. I never thought i'd be defending him when it came to this, but dammit! I feel terrible, because my family hates him. My friends all hate him. They all still make snide comments about him and talk about how i need to stay the fuck away and blah blah blah blah blah...

And i have to appologize to him for all of that now. I won't appologize for it then, but now... i'm sorry everyone i love doesn't love you. And never will. I'm sorry for that, because we're different now.

But to my mom, and everyone else who is still making shitty remarks... i'm goign to get a little defensive here.
You don't know him and me.
You don't know that he has put up with a lot more of my shit than most of you will probably ever see.
He knows every single aspect of sami... and he loves me anyway.
i'm not exactly peaches to put up with.

so lay the fuck off it already! i appreciate your concern, but there's really nothing to be concerned about anymore.

i'm fucking my love life over with other boys now. so if you want to get mad at someone for that... get mad at me.

i'm working on it.

i <3 saturdays.

perfect day for cleaning.

this ofcourse means... springee-freshness, all throughout the house.
[vacuum, laundry, dishes, febreeze, clorox and the like]

that way when i go to amityville horror [to stare at ryan reynolds chizeled, babalicious chest] and come home late tonight, i won't be checking trashed areas for... um... dead demons and things.

in definate need of a scary movie fix though. i'm lovin' all the remakes over the past few years.

next up: house of wax
[but...paris hilton? sooo can't act. and she doesn't have huge boobs either. she can't be our token big-breasted girl running around in a wet t-shirt girl.
ahhh....but that's why we have drop dead beautiful elisha cuthbert]

went out to see something for rockets last nite...
stayed for a few songs from the october.

Both really good. esp. soemthing for rockets. great energy. vibe. voice.
yum.

poor 'ol them, though... got stuck in the Lion's Lair.
Granted, I have not been to many joints here in the denver area, but that's definately a hole-in-the wall dive. kinda shitty!
albeit the sound is reasonably nice in there, and there were three vintage vespas up front. pretty fuckin' cool!

oh yeah...that chiseled bod i was talking about it:
yeah...Theeere it is:

must be rough to be so attractive. must be really rough to be alanis morisette and put up with that.

I've been Thinkin' about those things you said...

Handsome Boy Rocks.

And so do all the rowdy bitches at Benders blastin' out Karaoke last night...

I admit a Rocky horror Karaoke Show would be fun... Scary...but Fun.

I had an clausto-emo break down last night. Not very comfortable when you are meeting someone for the first time and with your boss. I'm sure i made a sweet impression.

I felt suffocated though. And I had to leave... so i did... crying on my way out.

what the fuck is wrong with me...seriously?

I used to do this with the ex, but it was only because other girls were around and i couldn't handle seeing it. Last nite was just my gross deal.

And it was gross.

I"ve finally solved the riddle as to why i keep dating musicians... and the reasons are Three Fold.

1. they're hot/charasmatic/magnetic [duh...]
2. because why would i have to focus on my own baggage/bullshit when i can focus on theirs?
3. because despite reason #2... it seems they're the only man-oh-war creatures out there that seem to understand my moodyness.

I mean... there are three types of people, really...

-The ones who successfully date all of the time; are good at the games, and don't get hung up on stupid bullshit [i'm striving for this one sometime in the next year or so...].

- The ones that shut out all people completely because they are either:
a. severely hurt from a deushbag
b. severely uptight and expect perfection from a significant other that is just not humanly possible
c. have questionable genetalia, a 'tail' or some other bizarre body point that doesn't warrant said person giving an explanation.

Or...The Third Category
[which contains...me]:

These people keep an open heart and mind. They date. They're always welcome to an opportunity, should it come along.
But they only let in an opportunity that will continue to harbor these said 'issues' that everyone has.
We know this.
And we do it anyway.
But we an opportunity for learning out of the experiencel, unlike Category TWO people that just shut the world out completely.

I'm hoping this will eventually create movement into Category ONE.

That being said...

I have a semi-sort-of-a new crush.

He isa musician.

[sidenote:]: Who would love to see a deaf translator at an livestock Auction??
Haha... I would.

Coruption

I just got snotty about a muffin.

Stupid.

But it is chocolate chip. I don't want to share! i didn't go to kindergarten!

As of very recently, some very special people around me have made it their point to see fit that i become a party girl. This title entails:

a> going out EVERY Night of the WEEK
b> having fun
c> meeting a shitload of people
d> seeing live music
e> drinking/mass consumption of liquor
f> doing this EVERY SINGLE NIGHT OF THE WEEK [did i mention this one?]

Last night was Day one. i drank. i was merry. i danced it up at the hi-dive with lots of cute boys and lots of really, really nice people.

[Insert my recomendation that if you do not live in Denver, you should. The people here rock. Why else would John Denver adapt the city as his last name?!?!]

I woke up at 8am to my alarm and phone simultaneously telling me to wake the fuck up... along with a morning wake-up call from John Burr [boss].

As I laid face down on my sheets, drooly profusely, i felt..., 'hey... this is how i treated my body in college. how shitty i was. i never want to wake up...ever...ever. again.'

Then i peeled myself out of bed, got in the shower and decided i was going to make the best attempt to look my best... because the pure shock of these people pulling for me to be their local party girl would be worth it.

Well... and mostly because i didn't think they literally meant every night.
But the first thing JB asked when i walked in this morning was,

"Do you feel alright...? Are you ready to go out and do it all over again!"

Oi.

I look forward to it. I'm socialite nine-tho, when i'm not crashing on my couch with PB&J, a big glass of milk and some chocolate cake. It surely opts for one to stop complaining about their relationship status because if you go out for even an hour, you'll meet like, four of the opposite sex... [that's one every 15 minutes...for you math wizards].

Insane.

I guess it better to go through now then when i'm 45 thinking that i belong with the twentysomething crowd.

Tonight: Where am i going?

YOU TELL ME.

[subtext about the muffin: this really is... the...best...muffin. i have ever. eaten. holy crap!

Ding Ding Ding!

I'm late. but...
Another testament that weddings and babies are the new "it"



Awwwww. Ya'all!

and... brit brit finally confirms THIS
[courtesy of trent]

yes. i am a closet britney fan.
am pretty sure you're not too shy to judge when you see the dances that go along with her music, beyotch!

you, too can be a pop-culture junkee.

it's fun!

I believe this is what they call, "Beet Red"

It really works.

I called about 18 of the 25 studios yesterday who hadn't paid rent and recieved eight rent checks within the coarse of two hours.

Ca-Razy.

Yesterday was ca-Razy.

Good crazy.

The most hilarious point was a slice of time i was sitting at my boss's desk working on accounting stuff. He was on his phone and bent down to pick up something he had dropped by the chair. I heard a loud "thud," glanced over quickly and saw his face change from white to a nice chartruese color in well under half a second.

He had hit his head on the way down, then screamed "FUCK!" at the top of his whispering lungs [because he was on the phone with a client]. He threw his fist in the air with vengeance.

I sat snickering. Kind of like when you're in church and aren't supposed to be laughing, but the fact that you can't, but really need to makes it all the more hilarious.

I couldn't stop thinking about how funny it would have been to have had my video phone so i could have shown all of you this lovely accurance. I was laughing well into last night about it, because never have i seen someones face turn so purple so quickly.

booya

I've been struggling with what i want. I have no idea. But, all morales, inner-beauty and great personal qualities aside, i want' to marry a man that looks exactly like Ryan. Mmmm.

It only gets better as you go further down the dating trails.. cause you weed out the bad stuff by default with each person you date.

Last time i snagged me a pretty hot hot hot hottie. I can't wait to jump in bed with one up to par with mr. reynolds here.

RRRRRUUUUFFFFF!

Defamation

I'm going to finally do it.
Because i was just floating around the Mraz board and found a funny photo, and this affords me the perfect opportunity to be insulting.

But before... i have to put the bunny/pancake thing up [also on his board] because it's just really random and really funny.

so... on with the show.
You know him as... the voice of god, word-master supreme... the guy that does those funny videos [i.e. the huge-breasted chica with an even huger basket of eggs... the bank robbery (you and i both)] and also the guy that covered(?) one of Bright Eyes' Songs [Kathy with a 'K' = Love is Real]

All fun is had by all.

His old stuff kicks so much more ass [0%, Rand McNally, Spinning, After an Afternoon, etc.] but overall, he's doing well in the music biz.

I was a huge fan until he pulled the emo-douchebag musician bullshit on me. Well.. not on me, but I got a really hearty taste of it.

If you remember... there was a post somewhere awhile ago about a love triangle between some artist chic, solo-bassist dude [and friend? i'm not sure right now...i think he's not liking me so much at the moment...], Seth Horan and Mr. Mraz, himself.

The quick skinny?:
Girl meets boy. [Jason]. - in a bar... stay up all night talking about how...
Girl has other boy. [Seth]
Boy thinks he can be better than other boy. [Alpha-male syndrome]
Girl gets to choose.
She chooses first boy [Seth].

But the second boy [Mraz] still keeps tabs on said girl.
Or did... i'm not sure he does anymore, because he's with hottie musician princess Tristan Prettyman. Love her.

And i tracked him down. Literally... took me, two clicks of the mouse. This wasn't some sort of thorough FBI investigation:
Anyone with half a brain and enough sense of his music, logo [all over fucking everything] and road journal, it wasn't hard.

So when i sent a friendly e-mail:

Is this Jason? If yes... do i get a prize?
haha
Just wanted to say hi. Hope you're doing well."

and then recieved panicked e-mail from Seth saying something like --

"i don't know what you said to him, but he's not happy! Please don't ever write him again! he's very upset"

--along with an e-mail from Jason saying,

-- "Nope... No Jason here... Sorry!":

This bitch got mad!


[my e-mail was really offensive and threating, huh?]

Granted, he has no way of knowing that I've grown up around musicians, have dated them and now work with them and i have no interest at all in stalking/setting up a shrine for him in any form... but jesus! Get over yourself..

I blew it off, but after a week or so, i was just so annoyed. It was like, "hi... you're acting like a five-year-old" and i just really wanted to let him know.

I wrote him back a snotty e-mail. I wish i had saved it. It still remained a smidgen polite in composure, but yeah... i got a little school-girl. It got my point across.

I'm pretty sure he never read it, but it made listening to his music a little more tolerable. I couldn't help that every time i turned on a Mraz Track, i cringed in annoyance.

So here... an open letter.

Dear Jason,

You are a rockstar. You are talented. Every time i've met you you've been stoned and drunk out of your mind, but damn... you can put on a great show. You'll go far. Everyone knows this...

I frankly don't give a shit about your personal life. I have one of those... i don't need to live vicariously through yours. Get over yourself.

Besides, until you started shackin' up with Tristan, i'm pretty sure everyone thought you were gay.

Hi! I just got a facial! It felt THUPER!"


Heart your music. Don't so much heart you,

Best, Three Star.

Oooh...NOW i get it.

No wonder men try to spread their seed so often.
Makes them much easier to be around. Work, socialize with, poke in the ribs, be quiet and/or non-effort making around.

I think the Ideal spot to be in is the lady that arranges the girls to have sex with all of the so-called me in your life... not the ones having it and trying to maintain the relationships.

So basically, I just need to be a Pimp. Soooo all over this.
But then i have to deal with all of the bullshit that comes my way when the man gets skirted the love.
And that may be doublee unfun.

So tired...

Boss: "Did you sleep in today?"
Me: "No."
Boss: "Really? You showered and everything?"
Me: "Yeah?"
Boss: "...Really?"
Me: "... Thanks!"
Boss: " (laughs) Well your hair just has this bed head thing going on."
Me: "Yeah... I intentionally made it look this way. I like the messy look."
Boss: "...Not that it's not sexy"
Me: "...Uh huh..."

Men are great with compliments.

I want a big, fat pillowy bed to house me for a nap. My body is retarded achey. I've found these two pressure points, one on each side of my shoulder, that when pressed, shoot a leering pain down my entire back.

But man, you breath through that sucker and when you let go... ooooooooh.

I need a massage. A Cheap massage. Anyone know of any good deals in Denver? Maybe... massage schools? [$30 or so] That are actually good? Deep Tissue that is going to have a mass effect, oh... say...

If i go in Friday evening... should make me pass out with a puffy face until around 11 the next morning?
That'd be awesome.

On another note...

Ya'all notice that the voice of MasterCard finally showed up in one of their commercials? [slushy boy!]
Yes... it's Billy Crudup ( Big Fish, Almost Famous . Now you know why you don't see him in so many movies. Because he's making a fortune off of saying "Priceless!"

Totally miss these spoofs:

Virginal...?

Looking at Britney Spears' Site [via Trent.

And noticing on Brit's Publicity Page... every magazine cover has her wearing white.

What' up with that?

In the midnight Hour... I cried More. More. More!

I always have the TV on while i'm getting ready in the morning. Convenient, because Ambush Makeover [I thot it was A.M. Bush Makeover for about... two days. scary.}, so it really motivates me to actually make an effort to look nice each day.

During commercials, i flip through channels.
This morning, i surfed on over to VH1 and saw a new video by...

Billy Idol !?!?!?!?!

He has something to "SCREAM" about... .

I'm guessing it's for one of the following reasons:

He looks like a bleached-blonde Tommy Lee.
It's 2005 and he's still...making albums...?
His pants are still too tight.
Someone is comparing his lips to those of Katie Holmes.
His stage set-up looks like it was influenced byAshlee Simpson.
Newlyweds is over.

So many reasons...

What would be your call?

Rawk the Casbah...Rawk that Casbah

It's getting all sunshiney outside.
LOVELY!

i'm taking Sierra and Hershy Running. Girls night! Wooo.

Underwear are a good idea.
At work.
When you're wearing a skirt.

Because girls get wet. And... this is a problem.

One that i am experiencing today.

Lovely.

Also... the coolest thing i've seen in awhile, thanks to John John...

3D Sidewalk art.
you can find the bulk of it here,
these are some of my favorites:



from the 'wrong' perspective:


The politicians meet their end:


Hmm...


UR. UR. UR!


wtf...


Haha. this is just mean.


Sa-weet.
Good day. I'm callin it Five Star.

fuck man...

that's hot

Ouch

I have the biggest crotch wedgie, because i just had to wear my new gaucho pants.

so i guess that would be... camel toe?

except that it's not visable (thank god).
honestly... who can stand to see tweeter through clothing?

and it's not even a pleasant, 'rub up against my ladyness and cause a bit of unintended pleasure throughout the day.'

no... it's more like..., "fucking stupid seam!"

all in the name of fashion. cause fashion=hot.

good thing, too... because chris pulled in not two minutes after i arrived at work...
saying... he needed to get a key.. or something?
but then he only spent like, four seconds in his space... so i still don't really understand what was going on.

That's kind of how things have been for the last... week and a half with him.
Because no conversation means no resolution.

There are just far too many stipulations and rules when dealing with sex, and i'm really fucking tired of playing the so-called 'game' that people play. it complicates things too much...there are too many loopholes to the rules.

it seems as soon as i've read the manual, taken notes and set aside study time for the main event, some guy presents section C, paragraph 10, #4 after the exam and i end up going... "whaaaaa...? how did i miss that question?"

I've even tried wingin' it [i always did best in college that way...] and that doesn't work either.

I love that girls are supposed to seem all cool like an affinity toward casual sex is just built into our genes.

Well... it is. As long as we remain totally ignorant and naive to what's really going on.

And i can guarantee you any girl out there who isn't having sex purely to fill some insecure void will say the same.
And if you say you don't, then you are lieing.
Because you're expected [by society] to be 'cool' about the whole thing.
And If guys can do it, girls can do it better.

But we are custom-made with intuition and the capability to bare children.

And really... these two things always end up royally fucking with your totally fun-fueled agenda.
Which is really fucking unfair.

'what!? I thot we had an understanding!!!!"

"We did have an understanding. Leave me in the dark and pretend like i'm your one-and-only shining star, deuchbag!"

Honestly, I'd be a lot happier if i didn't know what was going on half of the time.

I sometimes wish i could be like all you alpha males out there and if some deuch done mess with my woman, i done punch that bitch in the ear.

booya!

Bam. instant gratification... "I feel so much better!"

But why be done with the current thing if i'm clearly aware of all the arrangments? Because i'm clearly aware of the arrangments [i.e. not sporting bleach-blonde hair and an IQ of 7).
I think that whole spark is gone anyway. Didn't feel so much burning in the loins when i saw him this morning.
But did feel friendly, so that's good...
Though...If i could still claim naivity with the entire situation, I'd probably still go for the old set-up.


But i'd probably get really sick of my closest friends going, 'Samantha!"
Not that i wouldn't be open to other stuff whilst this was going on.

But honestly, i think mass-dating is in order right now. because while most/some(?) have a general idea of what they want, this is me genuinly saying... i haven't the slightest idea. at...all. no clue. [wierd feeling].

Arg.

I"m a pirate!




p.s for all you 'safe' men out there...saying, "we're not all like that! nice guys blah blah blah!" can IT!- you're not a challenge. you're not fun. i don't want to date you.

A new addiction...

I have one.

It's called ... "Automatic Stop" by The Strokes.
but i already told you that.
(click the link to download that bitch!)

I also have gas.
I"m thinking it was the heavy running and bean burrito.
I'm sure you wanted to know that.

WOAH... impressive.

My boss is in Phoenix until Wednesday. I'm going to be so lonely in the office tomorrow! and Tuesday. and... Wednesday!

But i can unhealthily blare my addiction in the office as many times as i feel fit, which sounds good to me.

What are ya'all doing tonight (MOnday)?

Why don't you... come hang out with ME at the Walnut Room??

I know Napoleon Dynamite is being played to death, but it's only because it's really fucking funny.

And we've got it at 7pm. on a HUGE screen with kick-ass sound. Honestly... the movies in the live room... kick... ass.

Then... there are these bands... at 9:30 --- who seem like a lot of fun.
Mossyrock.
and
Toof

It's $5. ANd i will only preface their music by saying that Mossyrock's old project used to be this band:



Ha.

Except now, they've brought in a chica and yeah.. their music is really good (Lemon Jellyesque).

If you don't like that, you'll always have me to fall back on. I can be fun... once in awhile.

RAWK!