I seriously hate television

January 30, 2007 at 5:45 pm | Posted in things that annoy | 5 Comments

We all know that the above statement is not true. While I wasn’t really allowed to watch tv as a child, and therefore missed out on a lot of late ’80s/early ’90s gems, my love affair with prime time soaps was signed, sealed, and delivered in 5th grade, when I was finally allowed to watch 90210.

I’ve had lots of television love affairs in my young life — my best friend Jessica and I even spearheaded a Save My So-Called Life campaign. (It didn’t work, and that may have been my only foray into the world of active activism, but I could at least rest easy, knowing I did my part.)  I have no problem admitting that I choose to watch lots of serialized television. But I also like to think that I have standards. I’ve already mentioned how much I hate reality shows (once and for all, what is the fucking point?). I also hate shows that judge (7th Heaven, I’m looking in your direction. I once watched an episode of that show in which a cigarette smoker [clearly, a demon in disguise] burned down a house with a cigarette carelessly left burning. And then exhibited no remorse. Because cigarette smokers have no souls, obviously).

But nothing gets my panties in a bunch more than well-written shows with believable characters, not to mention (usually) sweet soundtracks, getting cancelled because the television-watching public is too stupid to understand them of low ratings . Exhibits A, B, and C: My So-Called Life, Family Guy, and Arrested Development (ok, so maybe that last one didn’t necessarily have believable characters, but it was hilarious). Yes, I know that Family Guy has returned to Fox after several years on cable (and despite their “fair and balanced” news reporting I do have to commend the network for taking chances on several unknown kids [that was a Clueless reference]), but that is the exception rather than the rule.

So, I heard that Veronica Mars, which may be one of the most intelligent shows on network television, was getting cancelled going on hiatus so that the Pussycat Dolls (does anyone even know — or care — who these bitches are?) could do some wimpy reality mini-series. You have got to be kidding. Replacing Veronica Mars, with its snappy dialogue; endless pop-culture references, some obscure and some obvious and all of them dissected weekly on numerous discussion boards; and intriguing plotlines; with some stupid made-up girl-group whose have less talent in their fake tits than Veronica does in her entire body? Bring it on, CW, cause you and me are gonna have to take this one outside.


WordPress, don’t fail me now

January 30, 2007 at 8:30 am | Posted in things that annoy | Leave a comment

What the hell? Why don’t any of my pages appear? That whole “404 file error” thing? Not so much working for me. Blogging software, heal thyself.

Fixed! I updated Shiny Things if anyone’s interested.

Silver white winters

January 27, 2007 at 11:35 am | Posted in life, random | 1 Comment

Yesterday when I was walking home from work, exhausted and hungover (thanks, pub night and 4 hours of sleep!), it started snowing. It’s been pretty cold here lately and it’s certainly snowed a few times in the past week, but this time there were individual snowflakes. Being from Miami and having lived in Portland, OR, where it doesn’t snow that often, I think I’ve seen actual snowflakes -the picture-perfect kind- maybe 3 times in my life: once in Georgia, once in Colorado, and once here.

As I was walking home, the flakes landed on my jacket and my gloved hands, which I was holding out in front of me like mitts to catch the snow. It was so quiet: everything was still, there was no traffic in my residential neighborhood, and I was the only one out. I don’t often have moments where everything seems perfect and where I can marvel at the world, but that was certainly one of them. Every single snowflake was perfectly formed and I had to stop walking so I could get a better look at them. If I held up my hands in the right way, so that the flakes were in the light, I was able to see all of the patterns on each one: the soft, feathery ones; the remarkably symmetrical, quintessential snowflake; the simple ones; the complex ones.

It’s moments like those (and I find that they come unexpectedly, when I’m walking along the narrow beach on the Oregon coast in February and the sun is shining and there’s no one around for miles; or when I’m snorkeling in the Keys and there are schools of silvery fish below me and in front of me and behind me; or when I’m in the Everglades on a “winter” day and I see, for the first time in my life, a roseate spoonbill in flight), that I know how important the natural world is; and how important it is to feel part of it, if only fleetingly. Usually, those moments also make me feel sad, knowing that there will come a day when snorkeling in the Keys will turn up only bleached, dead coral, and there won’t be any more roseate spoonbills in the Everglades because there won’t be any more Everglades.

I guess that the reality of global warming and the catastrophes that come with it have finally penetrated this nation’s consciousness; I can’t say the same for my own. But I hope that eventually Americans will realize that there is so much about the natural world that is infinitely more valuable and interesting than money and industry and “progress.” And that once an entire ecosystem is gone, we have lost something indescribably beautiful, and that our actions are irreversible and irrevocable and we can’t do anything to get it back once we finally wake up and understand how important it really was.

P.S. Lorien wants everyone to know that she finished her mom’s sweater and is blocking it. And she touches it all the time.

The best intentions

January 26, 2007 at 12:58 pm | Posted in life, shiny things | 2 Comments

Ok, first of all, I totally apologize for my last post and its melodrama.  I don’t actually feel badly for writing it or for feeling any of those things, but I do recognize that my role in this whole blog thing is to amuse and impress, and posting such melancholy pieces is a total buzzkill.  So, my heartfelt apologies.

And, moving on.  To the $50 I spent at the bead store yesterday.  I mean, what?  I don’t really understand how that’s possible, especially considering the small bag of loot I came away with.  I guess that’s the problem with going bead shopping with Lisa -she has champagne tastes and I can’t help but be influenced by them when I am around her.  I seriously had decided that I would spend $20 on beads.  I don’t even make beaded stuff that often, so how many beads do I really need?  Apparently, $50 worth.  Jesus.

I am an idiot

January 24, 2007 at 3:15 pm | Posted in boys, life | 3 Comments

I know that I call myself an idiot on a daily basis, but this time I mean it -sometimes, when my life is rolling along fairly smoothly, I like to rock the boat by emailing my ex-boyfriend.

We were together for 3 1/2 years, and we broke up about that same length of time ago. We got together in our first year of college, when we were 18. We lived together for 2 years. He was my first love: he fascinated me, frustrated me, made me feel whole. When our relationship ended, he was the one who broke up with me. It had been over for a while, but I wouldn’t have ever had the courage to end things. When he did finally cut the cord, no matter how over I knew it was, I was devastated. I didn’t know what to do with myself. This coincided with graduating from college, and most of my friends had moved away from Portland. I felt completely lost, like a boat without an anchor, like a freed helium balloon. It was the scariest thing I’d ever felt, and I hated it. I still do: I look back on that and shudder, as I shudder to think of the upcoming “freedom” I’m about to experience when I’m done with grad school.

After a while, I started to get over it. I went out with other boys. I made new friends and found new places to live. Meanwhile, my ex had spent a summer in Ecuador and was moving to the Czech Republic for the experience of living in Europe.

Eventually, I moved back to Miami following a bout of almost unbearable depression (my mother: “You either move back home yourself or I come out there and get you. Which one do you want it to be?”). I found the ground a bit more solid there, and I started working at the bookstore. I had a love-hate relationship with that job, but I have to say that it made my time in Miami as good as it could have been. I applied for grad school, and started dating various boys. I had fun. I made friends.

During this, my ex had moved back from the Czech Republic to California. He called me on my 24th birthday, totally out of the blue and unexpected. The year before, when I turned 23, I’d received an email from him, wishing me a happy birthday and informing me that his current girlfriend, some Czech girl, had the same birthday as me (same day, different year). My mom and I figured that the reason he always remembered my birthday was because it was the same as hers. Have I told you how much I hated that girl? As good as I try to be (and yeah, doubting friends of mine, I do try to be good -I try to quell the anger and the sadness and the hopelessness; sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t), I often fail.

Since then, I’ve started and almost completed grad school. My longest relationship since my ex-boyfriend and I broke up has come and gone. Again, I’ve made friends. I’m enjoying my time in Toronto. I’ve done some good work at school. I’ve started taking anti-depressants, which has made my life infinitely easier.

I could have easily left well enough alone, but why would I do that?  I emailed him, under the auspices of wishing him a happy new year and asking about his holidays.  I mentioned that I had been dating someone but that he didn’t get my sense of humor and clearly hadn’t been meant to last.  He wrote back, updating me on life in Barcelona (yeah, that Barcelona).  Apparently, he’s pretty involved in a relationship with his roommate.  And things are going really well: each time he experiences doubts, “She comes through with flying colors.”  That made me want to die.  I know it shouldn’t, I know that I should be totally cool with my life: steps have been made in the right direction -I mean, hey, at least I’m not smoking crack or prostituting myself- but I just feel so far behind my peers sometimes.

As my friends, both here and in various parts of the States, get deeper into relationships and careers, I am scared of being left behind.   As my ex-boyfriend, the first and only love of my life (so far, I sincerely hope) moves on (and on), I am scared of being left behind.  As my friends get engaged and married, I am scared of being left behind.  Yes, I know that I’m only 25 and, despite the title of this blog, am hardly at the door of spinsterhood, but still.  What if I am too complicated?  What if my depression and anxiety and abrasiveness all equal a life of loneliness?  If I was convinced that I was fine, being single wouldn’t matter.  But I’m not -I’m convinced that I am toxic and damaged and that I’ll remain this way while everyone else moves on to the lives they were meant to lead.

My new favorite thing: lesbians

January 22, 2007 at 10:33 pm | Posted in random | 1 Comment

I’m relatively new to the whole cable television phenomenon. We didn’t have cable when my brother and I were growing up. I mean, clearly, it had been invented and was widely available in Miami, but my dad didn’t want to get it because the cable company had a monopoly on local coverage. Or something. That’s what he told us, but I always believed it was because he didn’t love us or want us to be happy. (Not being allowed to watch In Living Color or the Simpsons, and not being able to watch MTV, were the injustices of my childhood. Consider me charmed.)

When I was in college, I never had a tv in my bedroom, but some of my friends did and they had cable. Funnily enough, all I remember watching was 90210 (the final season), Dawson’s Creek, and Felicity, which were all on network tv. Eventually, I lived in a house where we got cable, but that year is all just a blur of the Daily Show and endless September 11th coverage.

Enter the age of original cable programs and a little thing I like to call heaven: downloading. I now consider myself to be an advanced amateur conoisseur of television. You can keep your American Idols and your So You Think You Can Dances. I scoff in the face of reality tv as I move past it to the dark glory that is Weeds, Six Feet Under, Dexter, and my new favorite, The L Word.

That show has made me love lesbians. How can you not, when they are gorgeous, have super cool hair, and are engaged in more casual sex than the casts of 90210 and Melrose Place put together? Plus, on cable, you get to see boobs, and who doesn’t like boobs? I’m totally not attracted to women and I love them. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for guys. Or lesbians. Oh wait, I can totally imagine what it’s like for lesbians, cause I watch The L Word.

The worst kind

January 21, 2007 at 9:12 pm | Posted in boys | 3 Comments

In order to navigate the waters of dating in the twenty-first century, you have to be knowledgeable of body language and you must pay attention to details. Body language is the biggie: can you tell, by non-verbal clues alone, whether someone is interested in you? Do you know what those non-verbal clues are? Do you know how to use body language consciously to your advantage, to either convey interest or a lack of interest? Paying attention to details is kind of a tough one, because it requires you to read between the lines. Yeah, I know, she said she’d give you a call, but how did she say it? Was it in response to that pleading look in your eyes, or did she volunteer it? He kissed you, so maybe he is interested in seeing you again, but was it really that intimate of a kiss?

As we all know, I went on a date last weekend. It was great (I thought): the conversation flowed, the body language was excellent. It lasted 8 hours, until 4:30 in the morning. The boy was interesting and, I thought, interested.

Against my (and my friends’) better judgment, I called him on Tuesday evening to say thanks, and to see what he was up to this coming weekend. I wasn’t going to call him, then I was going to call but I was going to wait until Wednesday -a safe four days after the event- but then I got impatient and called on Tuesday. The phone must’ve rung a billion times before the voicemail picked up, and I had visions of him holding the phone, my name and number flashing on the screen, as he waited for the ringing to stop. I left your standard message: “Hi, it’s Tasha. I just wanted to say thanks for Saturday. I had a good time, and I was wondering what you’re doing this weekend. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later.”

I didn’t hear from him at all this week. At first, I felt like an idiot -who calls someone on Tuesday to make plans for the weekend- but I got over that one around Thursday morning. Now, I’m stuck in the limbo of What did I do wrong?, which is the self-doubt that one experiences after going on a date with a Misleader.

A Misleader is probably the worst kind to date. If you’re on a date that is not going well and both parties know it, it might be a bummer of a night, but at least everyone knows where they stand. If you’re on a date that is going well, it’s a great night and everyone still knows where they stand. If, however, you’re on a date that seems to be going well -and I, having been on a few dates and being what I thought was decently fluent in the language of dating, did think it was going well- but you never hear from the person again, you don’t know where you stand and you likely just got misled by a Misleader.

I declare micronation status

January 18, 2007 at 5:14 pm | Posted in random | 4 Comments

In the Globe and Mail today, there was an article about the “micronation” of Sealand. I hadn’t heard anything about it, but apparently The Pirate Bay, a BitTorrent tracker, is attempting to buy it in order to escape international copyright laws, so it’s been in the news lately. I have no desire to discuss the legality and/or ethics of piracy, but I would like to say that I think that micronations are probably the most awesome thing I’ve heard about all week.

Wikipedia attributes the following characteristics to micronations:

1. They wish to be recognized as sovereign states but are not.

2. They are very small. Some may exist entirely online.

3. Some issue government “instruments” (passports, currency, etc.).

I hereby declare my bedroom the Duchy of Tasha. I will campaign my roommate, my landlady, and the Canadian government for sovereignty, but I do not expect to receive it. However, that will not stop me from adopting the following:

  • The Tasha national anthem. At the moment it’s a toss-up between “Lovefool” by the Cardigans and “I am a Rock” by Simon & Garfunkel (depending on my mood).
  • A flag
  • flag.jpg
  • Definitely passports. Anyone who wishes to enter the Duchy will have to furnish a valid passport for inspection. It must be stamped upon entry. Beware: the customs agent can be a real bitch. And she is most certainly on a power trip.

I thought about issuing my own currency, but figured it might get a bit messy when I showed up at stores with a bunch of construction paper notes with $500,000,000,000 written on them.

I can’t think of a title.

January 15, 2007 at 3:56 pm | Posted in boys, shiny things | 2 Comments


Sorry about the huge picture but I can’t reformat it at the moment. So, I made this necklace on Friday night for a date on Saturday. I have no idea what any of the stones are, but in my humble opinion it turned out quite well.

I’m not exactly sure if I should blog about the date or not…

Ok, fine.  But I’m not telling you everything.  He’s a guy I met before break and we tried to get together before I left but that didn’t work out.  Then when I was back, he was gone.  So, with all of the time that had elapsed, I wasn’t really expecting him to call me.  But he did, and we went out on Saturday night.  I had a really good time, and I’m pretty sure things went well.  There were a couple of awkward moments, however, which kind of sucked.  There was kissing, though, and it was the best kind (i.e.,  not investigating the deepest recesses of a virtual stranger’s mouth with your tongue).  We left it at:

Him: Maybe we can do this again sometime.

Me: I think that could be possible.

And that’s all I’m going to say about my date.

Earflap hat

January 11, 2007 at 9:58 am | Posted in knitting | 2 Comments


This is my new earflap hat. Isn’t it adorable? This might just be the cutest thing I’ve ever made, and I’m reaaaaally proud of it. Also, the weather is finally cold enough to warrant wearing such an adorable earflap hat which is super exciting. Read more about my hat here.

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