Yeah, so vignette.org expired and I figured it all made sense. Interest is waning, the site literally disappears, perhaps it's time to say goodbye. But Ben kept nagging me to renew (never give up a domain!) and then I saw that someone had back ordered it, meaning they would snatch it up as soon as the little grace period for renewal was up. Well, I don't really want it, but if someone else wants it ... ha! No waaaay.



I guess it was a good decision because this is going to be a strange year full of changes, me thinks. We shall see.

The only thing more pathetic than a tandem bike is seeing someone ride one ALONE.



Busy, busy, folks. More later, perhaps.

TEEJAYMAS 2003 is upon us. Here's a funny birthday email from my grandpa, transcribed by my aunt Frieda:



TJ,



23 years since I held my first grandchild in the Middletown apartment. Everyone agreed "that's a keeper."



Year by year it became clear Ann had a winner. Communication skill is a top priority and you have it in spades. Your natural compassion and positive perspective have armed you with the tools to attack the naysayers.



San Francisco is an excellent choice for honing these skills. However, everyone hits the wall of boredom and burnout. That's the time to saddle up and come to the Rocky Mountain Foothills with the climate and diversity of activities - definitely a prescription for re-energizing.



I love my grandson - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

this weekend my computer's hard drive DIED. my two-month-old laptop. the hard drive is totally gone. ben spent hours trying to fix it yesterday. and since evrything from my old desktop had been moved over to the laptop, my entire life from sept 2001 until now is GONE. just a few days before my birthday and a day before my first USA Weekend story is due to a super nice editor i'm dying to impress.



luckily, i have a ton of stuff online and on my work computer, i.e. most of my story, my new resume, cover letter template, targum stuff, but still, like 90% of my email is gone, random word docs filled with stuff, old resumes, BLAH.



add to that the fact that this is the grossest weather week SF has seen in months, with rain predicted for almost every day, just in time for my mom's visit.

I had a teeth cleaning today - it was my second dentist appt. in two days. yesterday as I was leaving after the first visit (x-rays, awful bite-downs, adorable young dentist), the woman went to schedule me a cleaning and while the usual wait is TWO MONTHS, she had one open up today, so I grabbed it.



Anyway, the dental hygenist who used the pick-axe to hack away at my teeth had, predictably, totally fucked up teeth. Physician, heal thyself! Seriously, it's like when you go to the hair dresser (or Supercuts, in my case), and the stylist has insane blue hair. Like, what is she going to do to ME?



So I'm going back again next Monday. I have two months left at my medical center (aka insured) job and $1,000 dental ceiling for the year, so I'm gonna try to squeeze in as much as possible.

Hmm. And just like that, we have a blog again. Let's see how long it lasts...

Oh yeah, does everyone agree with me that Trading Spaces is so last year? It's all about While You Were Out. Lesley and Andrew are both adorable as can be and Teresa Strasser is my love. She grew up in SF, too, about 10 blocks from my house, in fact.

Pages and pages of hollywood gossip/blind items. awful...ly addictive

Hee hee. Forgot about that post. I think I'll leave it for a while as a cruel reminder...

Who woulda thunk it? It's true. Ben is a serious asshole with severe mental problems.

I've been feeling a little crazed. I just started an internship program at one of San Francisco's alt weekly papers (that's all you get for now), but I'm still working part-time at the medical center, so every day I have to change my way of thinking completely. Just like my senior year of high school, when I had AP English, Hon. Latin and AP Spanish consecutively.



The craziness continues as two of Ben's friends from Ann Arbor hang in our apartment for a few days, my mom and Earl visit in less than two weeks and a plethora of birthdays (including the all important Teejaymas 2003) come up...



Good times.

Andrea, you're right, this is hysterically funny. Check the Department of Homeland Security's new terror-related signs. The signs are real, people.

The world truly is insane...



I just went to the DMV. In and out in 30 minutes. Filled out forms, paid for a license, took an awful photo, barely passed a written test - all without delay. INsanity, I tell you.

Also, times like this show what an amazing jobs news organizations like AP do. We have almost real-time print coverage of this stuff thanks to the wires and the Internet.

My normally 15-minute shuttle ride took 30 - not too bad. But the effects of the protests downtown are wide-reaching. Keep in mind that I work at a hospital and shuttles are delayed, some, including the one that connects people coming in on BART to the hospital, are totally shut down right now. Think of how many nurses can't get to work. Think about how many people suffering from liver disease are calling in a panic because they can't get to our clinic today.



Doesn't seem right.

I'll be incredibly pissed off if I can't get to work tomorrow. Protesters plan on fucking shit up all over the city.



I really respect people's right to free speech and expression and all that, but acting like five-year-olds throwing themselves on the ground, kicking and screaming until they get their way? Not so cool. Protest. Assemble. March. But not at 6 p.m., without permits, when I'm trying to drive home. Don't block off major intersections when people who need to make a living are trying to get to work. That's completely disgusting.



There are a million reasons to love living in San Francisco, but the civil disobedience that's expected to take place tomorrow is not one of them. People who storm office buildings, throw rocks at stores and try to shut down public transportation are not anti-war. They're idiots. And they're doing a ton of damage to their cause. Who's going to take you seriously?



Want to be taken seriously? Write a well-researched letter to the editor. Study the issues so you can make intelligent points when the camera is on you instead of lamely yelling that Bush is an asshole. And maybe, just maybe, rock the vote.

I've been pretty ambivalent about the "showdown with Saddam." I'm not anti-war, I'm not pro-war. I think it's a very complicated situation and there are strong pros for both sides. There is an Iraqi-American doctor here who is unbelievably pro-war. He thinks that the possibility of losing loved ones in a war is worth ousting Saddam, a man who has terrorizes his family's lives, once and for all. So that's something I always have in the back of my head when I hear Americans, who have no first-hand experience dealing with the Iraqi government, crazily screaming about war.



But I also think it's strange that things are going this quickly. People are pissed - here and especially in Great Britain. I haven't participated in the protests (see ambivalence), but they're impressive. So I don't know why Bush is going full steam ahead when this many people want to crucify him. True, I live in San Francisco, where the people are truly a unique breed, so perhaps the majority of Americans do support war, but I wonder how this will affect the presidential campaign.



If all of these protestors had mobilized as effectively as they are now and elected Gore, maybe the country would be in better shape.

The truth revealed... Bush and Blair, a forbidden love?

You are a cold, heartless, biatch.

It's really hard to make me laugh or really smile. And I find it very difficult to feign delight or fake laugh/smile. This is becoming a bigger problem every day as certain people keep forcing me to pretend I'm interested in what they're saying. Why can't I just ignore people without being considered a total asshole? I'm not. I'm just not impressed.

Me thinks this site's content will become a lot more media-related. I'm trying to immerse myself in media-related stories and sites to learn as much as possible. For a journalist, I'm not as educated (interested) as I should be. I'm also getting ready for a big push toward freelancing for national pubs. I never really developed my pitching skills. When I was freelancing last year I stuck to familiar territory, but I'm developing ideas now and hitting the library Saturday to reserach magazines so I can blind pitch with accuracy.

A dear companion that's been close to my heart for more than four years is about to depart and I'm pretty sad. Yes, it's true, my Celtic knot necklace is about to go... I got it at Tumbleweed in Ridgewood, N.J. during Thanksgiving break of my freshman year at Rutgers. It ties in the back. so it's never been taken off, but one end of one is the links of the knot, the one that is connected to the string, separated from the rest of the knot. I'm sure the other end of the link will break off any day now. Sigh.

Funniest/saddest part of last night's American Idol? "What about the cheeeldren?" That girl has no right to be sassy with Simon. Seeet down, beeetch.

Great quote from Newsweek:



“France is like an aging actress of the 1940s. She’s still dining out on her looks, but doesn’t have the face for it.” Arizona Sen. John McCain, on France’s opposition to the use of force in Iraq.

Dude, if you're going to make fun of my song list, there certainly are better targets than Jewel. Her last CD was brilliant.

Oh my God, Andrea ...



"vignette.org ::: t.j. is not only a fabulous writer, but really knows how to make a drink. unfortunately, that drink ended up in his shoe and he was more than happy to drink it. too much info? trust me, i've only brushed the tip of the iceberg, go check him out."



What are you talking about?!

OK then. The first ten shuffled songs off of my the iPod...



1. Jewel - The New Wild West

2. Lisa Loeb - I Wish

3. Dar Williams - As Cool As I Am

4. Fiona Apple - The First Taste

5. Paula Cole - I Believe in Love

6. Straight No Chaser - Sitcom Medley (a cappella)

7. The New Radicals - I Hope I Didn't Just Give Away The Ending

8. Dar Williams - End of the Summer (Live)

9. Duncan Sheik - On a High

10. Britney Spears Anticipating

I've been on a quest for the perfect brown shoes. I've been sort of a shoe whore lately, buying more in the past three months than during the previous two years. But these brown shoes have been a problem. The first pair I bought weren't brown at all, they were blue, which I thought could work with the brown-shoe outfits. Only problem? They weren't blue at all, they were black. They were that weird blueish black. I love them, but I didn't need another pair of black shoes. So in a rush to find brown shoes for a holiday party one day I settled on a pair I thought would be very nice - but outside of the store they were more RED than brown. Bastards lighting!



Finally after a failed attempt Saturday in Union Square (where no size 12 brown shoes exist), I hit the wonderful suburban malls of the East Bay. Found the perfect pair - in fact, they're the same show as the blueish black ones I adore, only in true brown. The problem? They seem too big on me. For the love of God, they are the same damn shoe, so I got the same size. Now why don't they fit me the same?!

While my family and friends are buried under a foot or more of snow, I'm sitting on my roofdeck, gazing at the park and the skyline, blogging on my new laptop with its cute wireless card. It's not super nice in the Fran on this President's Day, but high fifties and mostly cloudy is fine with me in mid February.

My name is ridiculous. T.J. DeGroat all together is fine. That is actually a pretty decent byline. But TJ? Or worse yet, tj? When I get an email that starts with "hi tj," I want to scream. What a lame name! Say it outloud, slowly. T-E-E-J-A-Y.



Ridiculous.

The 9-5 grind lends itself to seeing the same people over and over again during the commute. I've seen the same dude reading "Gone with the Wind" every day for the past week. Besides being shocked that anyone over the age of 22 would actually read that (college classes, you know. I was supposed to read it, but typically rented the movie instead and barely got through that), I'm also a bit disappointed that he hasn't gotten very far.

This site, which documents the horror of drunk driving, is one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen. As Candy says, spread the cheer.

You ain't fazin' this caucasian.

I don't think 35-year-old men should call themselves boys. You are not a boy, you are practically middle-aged.

Despite having no talent for painting, drawing or the like, on my way home today I decided I want to be an artist. So, with my credit card in hand, I confidentally walked into Flax, a fancy schmancy art store on Market St. Back in the apartment, with my new canvas, three colors of paint and the cheapest brushes I could find, I set to work feeling motivated. All that inspiration disappeared, though, when I realized I was painting the canvas cobalt blue without having removed the plastic from the bristles of my brush.

I have to go to a crab and wine festival today, despite liking neither crab nor wine. But I suppose spending my weekends the way I really want, meaning in my armchair, with my new inspiron on my lap and my TV on, would be a bad thing.



[Love you]

Blogger. Be good.

I work with a very gay, very accented Vietnamese-American dude who kills me and others with the (sometimes unplanned) hilarity of his comments. He's amazing. Today, while having a very college moment in the hospital cafeteria, he shared some of his heartbreaks with us.



Now, you have to imagine a fairy thick Vietnamese accent (one that sounds almost German at times, oddly enough) and a pretty stereotypically gay voice.



Talking about how he's become less into casual sex as he's grown older: "I am not cheap anymore. I am not interested in casual sex. Unless you take me out for dinner and spend money. Then you get whatever you want, girlfriend. (Sigh) People just don't get it."



On missed chances: "I follow this guy home in my car, but the traffic must have gotten cut off or something because I lost him. I caught the fish but did not get to eat it."



Talking about a potential dream man: "I meet this CEO of big company and we got out on a date, so I tell him to meet me at my house, at the corner. I don't want him to know where I live. So I expect him to drive BMW or Mercedes Benz, but I see his car and I have nervous breakdown! It is small, two-door, nothing car. I drive a better car, girlfriend. My heart was broken."

Goodbye Dimension, hello Inspiron...



I love, no, adore Dell. I ordered my new love late Saturday night and it shipped today.

I’ve had this intense desire to spend money lately. So yesterday I made my second trip of the (long) weekend down to Union Square to hit Old Navy’s crazy clearance floor, buy new sneakers for tennis and check out the latest offerings at one of my new favorites, The Container Store. As I was riding the J-Church back to my new apartment (Aside: Oh yeah, Ben and I live together now in a cute place across from Dolores Park. It’s not a big deal.), with bags taking up the seat to my side, I stared blankly out of the dirty windows, my eyes settling on a homeless man in dirty, and I mean soiled, clothes. Like, I couldn’t smell him but I knew he smelled, if that makes sense.



Anyway, here is this dirty old homeless man in ratty clothes, and what do I see him pull out of his little plastic shopping bag? An ODWALLA! Odwalla! That shit is expensive. I don’t even buy those delightful concoctions and I am getting paid. I truly hope that man stole someone’s groceries, because spending money on an Odwalla Fruit Smoothie is not smart.



Odwalla!

Hey, you. Who are you and what kind of job can you get me? Don't be shy.

I've never been the kind of blogger who inundates readers with links. I tend to skip those traditional web logs when I'm browsing. Instead, I gravitate toward sites filled with anecdotes, whether they're sometimes vague or mostly straight-forward. I prefer to use this place as a forum for the strange observations and random thoughts that often run through my head and rarely have any place in normal conversation.



(And here's one)



When I was 19 and someone said I could easily pass for 21 (those comments were few and far between), I was psyched, but if someone told me now, as I stare at 23, that I look 25, I'd ice them big time. The span between 18 and 25 is a very strange one...

I've been working at this hospital for about four months now, but I still can't get used to opening up bills for purchased livers.



Qty: 1

Type: Liver

Amt: $25,000



Very strange indeed.

More than one month of silence can be attributed to the increasingly obnoxious inconsistency of the House of Pleasure. I'm going to give the server a couple of days to stabilize before I get back to my trite observations of pop culture and bitches like you.