Deep Pressed

When one is depressed, they’re pressed in deep.

Everything’s a reminder of what you’re unable to reap.

Sleep is defined by counting too many or too little sheep.

Manifesting as tummy monsters, they crawl then creep.

Attaching significance to anything on which negativity can leap.

Snowballing, tumble-weeding, collecting pain for keeps.

Screaming inside yet no one can hear even a peep.

Stewing in spirals, endless loops as we steep.

It’s like dry heaving for sadness, no more tears when we weep.

Needing of resuscitation to hear the heart monitor beep.

Introduction to Costco A.Z. (after zombie)

Have you ever been into a Costco and found yourself creepily investigating the security systems, analyzing the stock surplus, or taking photos of all the partitioned sections for future contemplation? CUZ I HAVE…on numerous occasions, and my findings indicate that if one can secure the “ins and outs” (mmm, animal fries) of a Costco, you’d be in perfect shape.

Let’s analyze the facts, SHALL WE?

Set aside your fantasy visions of zombie sample ladies in disheveled hair-nets, although totally relevant so keep ‘em in your back pocket, and take a bulk journey with me.  First and foremost, you have all of your basic necessities in plenty: water, deodorant, alcohol, variety muffins, batteries, gasoline, fork-lifts, computers, multi-colored socks, books (not claiming they’ll be any good), bedding, office supplies, cooking utensils, etc.  

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Now. The most important thing during a zombie apocalypse is heavy artillery?  WELL, you could do just fine with a hammer, or that fork-lift, or gasoline started fires, or using duck-tape to fashion yourself a home-made harpoon made from all the furniture.  You could even utilize all of the metal from the shelves or ALL THE FRICKIN GLASS UP IN COSTCO to exert extra sharp cheddar damage.  Perhaps you were able to hit up a gun store on your way to a Costco…actually, I’d recommend that.

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During my last Costco visit, I made the executive, yet risky decision to find my way back to the various entry points where trucks drop off their loads (aha, ha).  I found myself a place to stand and observed the assembly line of employees.  The stock doors would be too difficult to open manually once closed.  I mean they are huge, heavy-metal contraptions that require chains and magic to open.  There are a series of big red buttons which indicate the desired positioning of the door (you know, open….and closed).  Once I took note of this I felt confident that if it really came down to it (the pressing of a button), the securing of the ins and outs of Costco would be a piece of cake.  It would be the ridding the space of zombies part that would pose a slight challenge, but not impossible.

As stated before, you already have your weapons (whether or not they’ve been fashioned or pre-discovered).  Costco is the playgrounds of space and climbable objects.  Now, it is crucial to note that I am NOT dealing with zombies who can run quickly or climb.  I mean, let’s respect the first idea of a zombie and what parts of the brain the cult thriller virus ACTUALLY attacks.  This isn’t I Am Legend…or I Robot?  That’s bullshit.  So, zombies can’t climb.

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Costco is set up with HELLA shelves that skyscrape up into an intricate web of metal rafters.  If you ran out of time and were beginning to be surrounded…BE THE MONKEY FROM WHICH WE ALL EVOLVED and get thee to some traversing. Even if at this point you are weaponless, there are so many heavy objects on top of the shelves that you could push down and smash you open some zombie domes (or at least do some high score severing).

Let’s look at the other sparkles of Costco.  You have a produce cooler that could house a SIGNIFICANT amount of trapped, stupefied zombies. And if they got out, I’d be delighted at the opportunity to chant (who let dem zombs out, who, who, WHO WHO WHO!?)  Maybe you get all 21st century and build yourself a lab up in there.  The perks?  It is a self-contained unit once the doors are closed.  There are many spaces like this in Costco (food prep stations…anything with an ‘employee’s only’ door) just inviting and begging you to get some bait (nothing that involves cruelty, of course (?)), toss it on in, and let the body parts fall where they may.  

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There is a Hearing Aid Center…with a little hearing test box.  Perks?  It is absolute silence…meaning you could use it as a well deserved siesta zone, boning box for you and your sweetie, or hiding space.  

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There is a 1-hr photo center…I mean, that speaks for itself.  All I know is I want pictures with my prized winnings (severed, trophied zombie domes).  There are probably a lot of other cool things you could use/do with a photo processing lab, and I am sure someone else knows those details.  I just want a sweet ass photo album.  

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Now, say you are in this Costco for a hot minute…they have an Optical center.  So, you start losing your vision or a frisky zomb snatches your specs…PROBLEM SOLVED.  

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Probably the most important thing of all….A PHARMACY.  Ok, now setting aside your desire to get your understandable need for drug kicks during the apocolypse…the pharmacy is stocked with meds, first aid tools, and anything you’d need to treat a mechanical injury and/or more serious illness.  THAT’S A BINGO.

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Photograph (c) 2013 reserved to Jennifer M. Moore

Well, we have reached the end of my introduction to Costco A.Z. You might be saying to yourself…”you can do this at any full sale location like Super Walmarts and Targets,” but my friends, let’s get real.  Sure, Target is great for affordable trends, but they’re more likely to run out of useful supplies after some time.  Walmart…need I even go there? Actually, I never do, so I won’t. Plus, with what type of consumers (in zombie form) would you rather deal?  Zombies on mobility scooters…or hippies stocking up for Burning Man? Your everyday co-ed loading up for a harmless night of beer-pong? Your stay-at-home moms stocking up on gummiVites and detergent? Lest we forget our beloved sample ladies. My preferences lay dead after the final ellipses. 

Connections

It’s extraordinary how far we’re willing to go
in pursuit of permanent connection
We turn into zombies consumed by basic need
like a wandering, homeless erection
 
We fight, we fuck, we conspire
We beg for sympathy
 We share, we talk, we isolate
And kill for infamy
 
If you break it down into parts
because humans have a need to label and define
Either way you slice it we crave
“what’s mine is yours and yours is mine.”
 
We stay in fear of what we do not compute
because it’s easier to carry on that way
“Do not try to justify or understand egregious acts because it’s pointless,”
they say.
 
The greatest hoax of all of it is
that we all get away with causing some degree of pain
Does that mean that we too receive the same
examination, judgement and disdain?
 
We are equally capable of producing holiness and evil,
and you can be sure of that
But you’ll always be bargaining with life if you believe
an eye for an eye; tit for tat
 
Unconditional love is just another
unrealistic, idealistic, silly hippy notion?
Perhaps you also believe love is a potion
and you’re the center of the earth’s motion
 
We are shown that justice can and will be served
through force, fear and “fact”
We sit around admiring the problem
but get stuck in creating steps on how to react
 
We stay away in fear
from the communities where violence is expected
The projects, the streets are as bad as we think,
yet we continue to neglect them
 
The news will get all crazy
when a seemingly normal, rich kid pulls the trigger
The coverage of our nation’s problems
is just making the turn around quicker
 
No matter where you come from, what you’ve been through,
and what you think
No one is safe from the dangers of isolation;
it’s guaranteed to bring them to the brink
 
To be cared about fully and feel it within
is the one thing I’ve come to learn
That can turn a mans’ fists from hitting a wall
into taking mine with surprising return
 
“It’s dangerous! You’ll get hurt! You’re putting your life at risk!”
I’ve heard it all a million times
The work I choose to do aint fo’ shits and giggles or the weak
but I can’t leave it behind
 
 It’s extraordinary how far we’re willing to go
in pursuit of permanent connection
We were designed to interact and form attachments
NOT stare at our sole reflection

Toiletry shopping…this one’s for the ladies

Toiletry shopping is potentially the worst; with office supply shopping being the best.

Toiletries are expensive as fuck and reliably inconsistent.  Does one ever TRULY know what they are getting for their typical $9.99 bottle of synthesized chemicals self-proclaiming to be a volumizing, gift from heaven?  My extensive, 25 year research in this department has positioned me to the simple belief: you can’T bet your bottom dollar.  You either suffer with Walgreen’s $2.99 bottle of conditioner which SOMEHOW creates more of a catastrophe than before you entered that place of peace and cleansing, glass case of emotion, personal recording studio (otherwise known as THE SHOWER), or you spend up to $50.00 dollars a month on 1 small-ass container of the most powerful, never had a tangle in your LIFE, white-creamy goodness that you NEVER know exactly how much to place into your palm at a time.  THEN these companies have the audacity to convince you that you need some type of leave-in shit while you’re standing at the mercy of the isle saying to yourself, “oh, well, I DO need that. Yes, that IS my problem. I DO have flat, nappy hair. Have they finally made something JUST FOR ME?  God damnit, I AM WORTH IT. I WANT TO LOVE THE SKIN I’M IN. Maybe, IT IS MAYBELINE.”  No one ever told me in my life to put up my big guns, wall front before I enter a superstore or specialty drug market. Don’t even get me started on the lay-out of these places, taunting you to buy things you don’t really need, but that are just so readily available…MIRACULOUSLY.  That could be an entire blog post on it’s own.

So you go, expecting to just purchase the necessities to keep yourself feeling like a woman, and you end up spending almost $100.00 in ONE GO on shampoo/conditioner, body wash/face wash, razors/fun-foamy shit, perfumes to attract your male counterpart/cancerous deodorants, miracle whitening (PROBABLY NOT) toothpaste/do I prefer the soft or medium toothbrush? You CAN spend less, but we all know what that means.  This is exactly why I LOVE camping so much.  There is FINALLY an excuse to just be all natural.  So you tell yourself, I’m converting to REI nuggets of gold so I can be all hip and organic.  That shit is STILL EXPENSIVE.  Here I shall plug Dr. Bronner’s. It’s a phenomenal, multipurpose soap, but it’s at an alarming price of $18.00 a pop, although, that shit does conquer the essence of “goes a long way.” 

Now, personally, and to most huMANS with which I talk, office supply shopping is top 3 on “the most fun” list.  DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a shopper.  It isn’t my bag OR my cup of tea, but I do like purchasing bags and tea, so yeah….awkward.  But boy howdy, when it comes to the container store or shopping for office, organizational delights (regardless of whether or not they actually help my ability to compartmentalize), I am GAME CHANGED. The Container Store is beyond-ridiculous expense wise, but the miniaturized boxes and shit tickles my fancy, OK?  And there is just something about a new folder, a new stack of college-ruled, a pack of multicolored pens, a crisp weekly planner, a leather bound journal, FRICKIN’ HOLE PUNCHERS that really gets me going.  Maybe it’s my infatuation with “tabula rosa,” or color, or the 90’s throwback tunes they play, or the promise for a freshly organized life, or memories of Lisa Frank…whatever it is, we’re clear for take-off.

You might be asking yourself, “so what are your solutions, then, Jenn?” or “what’s the point of all this ranting?”  I am inclined to state that there are no answers and there is no point, so consider your time wasted. BOOM.

Laundry Day

Laundry day outfit is always the most indicative.

Sometimes you can’t tell if they’re comin’ or goin’.

You see yourself or a friend or a lover or a stranger and you just KNOW. Either they a hotmess lookin’ like a tragedy decided to claim it’s territory…OR they pull out that one outfit that matches so well you find yourself questioning how it’s possible they fashioned up with such proclaimed “ease.” PSH, you know they watched that tumbling, spinning wad of filth while planning and examining their next possible magic trick on the eyes.

Answers? They either have not done laundry in a minute and are left to articles no one ever wanted to see again, or they just did laundry and are feeling like a boss, a king of the hill, a “la di da” I have my act together and a born-again believer in swag.

It’s all in the tude, too. A frumpy, zombie-eyed bag lady/man vs. a slightly irritating, shit eating grinner with a bounce in their dryer and in their step.

Lest we forget those who must lug their laundry and pay $10.00 for one frakin’ load vs. those who either still live at home and have their mother claim the fame OR have reached a point of no return bitterness and finally bought a washer/dryer. BUT THEN YOU PAY WATER/ELECTRICITY up the hizzay.

I’m talking a reversion, or a logical solution of returning to washer boards and get thee to the nearest body of glorious H2O. I mean, washer boards are just fun. You could take music breaks and imagine yourself as the most proficient washer board musician in the nation. Plus, no one cares how you look when you are either coming from or going to a river…WHILE CARRYING A BAD ASS INSTRUMENT.  At that point, I’m intrigued, and would probably chalk you up to be some hipster in a wannabe folk band or a delightful Hobbit who got strawberries and cream on his/her shirt.

I am not immune. Maybe these are my thoughts because it’s how I go about my business. Regardless, I hate laundry day. No matter who you are or where you come from, it’s time consuming, painful, wasteful, makes you suspicious of every person in the laundromat if you decide to leave for a sec and get a burrito, but somehow subsequently necessary.

Positive reframe? I’ve always got ‘em tucked away in my clean back pocket! Folding is cool…kinda like a meditative thing…or piling your clothes fresh out of the dryer onto the ground and rolling around in it like a puppy trying to create a memory.

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Fashion Tip No.1 : Shoulder Pads (Never always a bad idea)

That’s right.  You heard it here.  Muh-tha-pho-king shawl’dah pads. 

Now, I don’t want to say more than is necessary.  If you feel me on this one, then no witty explanation is needed.  

If you don’t feel me on this one, it’s probably because you have either 1. never tried them 2. think your shoulders are big enough and you run the risk of looking mannish or 3. are drinkin’ some serious mountain cooler hateorade.  I understand all 3 predispositions for I myself have visited there in other fashion shenanigans, but your ears have not yet known pleasure until someone comes up to you with one brow slightly raised and a twinkle in their eye as they utter, “hold up, are those shoulder pads in your jacket?”  SWEET BLISS, YES THEY ARE.  Automatic brownie points for noticing, although, I wouldn’t say shoulder pads are a subtlety, it just depends

I think shoulder pads get a bad wrap because of the “box effect,” and have you seen a hyperbolic shoulder pad?  PROBABLY. Just like everything good and noteworthy in this life, moderation is your guide when it comes to a tasteful, shoulder adornment. If it looks like some bish is about to slip a fast one and pull a “trojan horse” on you (see below), best to make like a kangaroo and bounce.

Otherwise, a F.A.B. (fly-ass-bish) with promising attire might pull off shoulder pads as such:

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“Tassels!?,” you say.  Yup!  Separate post.

Blazers, suede, silk…I have these types of jackets AVEC shoulder pads, and the material works well in supporting the extra padding of the past. What to look for:  How far past my shoulder does the pad protrude?  Does the neckline make me look like a glammed out geisha or a clever girl sweeping for bones from the cretaceous period? Your standards may be different from mine, and that’s cool, too.

The Low End Theory with PAC DIV performance review

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Above, you may find yourself enjoying a few photos that yours truly snapped at the show this past Friday evening.  Here they are…PAC DIV.  The show definitely met expectations, in fact, they may have exceeded them. I finagled my way up to the front row and had my way with the dance floor.  The sound was on (low end was bumpin’), the crowd was small (yet appreciative), the fashion was flying straight out the roof, no tweenie-boppers present (21+ club), subsequently the drinks were urrywhere.  

The Div came out on stage and performed all of their slappers.  They were engaging with one another and interacting with the crowd’s energy.  I love it when you can tell that performers are enjoying themselves, AND when they are not too crunk to deliver. Pac Div tore up the stage with dance moves, lyrically presented call and response, and commanded just enough swag to not be overindulgent.  The group as a collective is incredible to watch, and when each member has their turn to shine, the other 2 are right there stoked out of their minds as if they’re hearing it for the first time.  For as much nastiness they spit on stage, The Div are unbelievably welcoming and genuinely nice guys.  I was able to chat with the crew for a bit after the show while they smoked outside their Escalade, which had me smiling from ear-to-ear, and there was not 1 trace of douchery.  All elements considered, PAC DIV still has part of my heart, and I will be attending future shows, fo’ sho.  If the past 3 posts of mine have not convinced you to check this group out, then you’re in luck, because I am moving on to other topics :)