Nothing scary has happened today. I'm a bit disappointed. The scariest thing that has happened to me was when my dad snuck up behind me and yelled "what are you doing?" But he does that every day, so it doesn't count.
Last night we all watched Dawn of the Dead. No one thought it was as scary as I did the first time I saw it. I think that's because no one else has an irrational fear of zombies. I wonder if there's a name for that. Septophobia is fear of decaying matter. Necrophobia is the fear of dead things. Bogyphobia is the fear of demons and goblins. These names all come close, but I just want to find something that means "fear of zombies." Is that too much to ask?
Really, if you're going to have an irrational fear of something, I think zombies are your best bet. They're scary. And they want to eat your brain.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Saturday, October 30, 2004
happy (almost) Halloween!
It's Halloween, or Halloween Eve if you want to be specific, but it doesn't really feel like it. Right now, I'm trying to remember what I did last year for Halloween, and if I dressed up, but for the life of me I can't think of what I did. I know what I did the year before that. I went to Connor's Prairie to participate in an underground railroad reenactment, got back to campus around 11, changed into my Adam Sandler costume (complete with tiny guitar) and went to a Halloween/frat party. And a week after that, we had a Pop Stars party with a different frat, and I went as Kelly Clarkson.
It's really bothering me that I can't remember what I did last year. Maybe I did nothing. Weird.
Anyway, this year we didn't even get a pumpkin to carve. I thought about getting one and carving it today, but I know it'll just end up smashed in the middle of the street tomorrow, so why bother? Our house isn't decorated at all. We're going to pass out candy, of course, but we're not going to be one of the fun houses that scares the crap out of little kids. Maybe I should dress up as a scarecrow or something and sit on the porch, holding the bucket of candy, and when kids come up to take some I'll jump up and they'll run away screaming.
That always scared me.
I love how Halloween gives everyone free license to warp the minds of little children. You can't do that on Christmas.
Well, you can, but it's frowned upon.
One Christmas we convinced my cousin Josh that this table kept shrinking. I think he was 5 or 6. We had a really long table set up to eat on, and after dinner he went to another room, so we folded that table up and put up a smaller, card table. When he came back, we told him Casper had shrunk the table.
Josh left the room again, we folded up the card table and put a TV tray in its place. When he came back in the room, he totally bought that the table had shrunk again. The next time he left the room, we folded up the TV tray and didn't put anything else up. We told Josh that the table had shrunk so much that you couldn't even see it anymore.
The best part is, during some of this I'd casually knock on the wall without Josh seeing me, and tell him Casper was outside.
My family is so warped. Too bad most of the kids in our family are getting too old to believe in shrinking tables.
It's really bothering me that I can't remember what I did last year. Maybe I did nothing. Weird.
Anyway, this year we didn't even get a pumpkin to carve. I thought about getting one and carving it today, but I know it'll just end up smashed in the middle of the street tomorrow, so why bother? Our house isn't decorated at all. We're going to pass out candy, of course, but we're not going to be one of the fun houses that scares the crap out of little kids. Maybe I should dress up as a scarecrow or something and sit on the porch, holding the bucket of candy, and when kids come up to take some I'll jump up and they'll run away screaming.
That always scared me.
I love how Halloween gives everyone free license to warp the minds of little children. You can't do that on Christmas.
Well, you can, but it's frowned upon.
One Christmas we convinced my cousin Josh that this table kept shrinking. I think he was 5 or 6. We had a really long table set up to eat on, and after dinner he went to another room, so we folded that table up and put up a smaller, card table. When he came back, we told him Casper had shrunk the table.
Josh left the room again, we folded up the card table and put a TV tray in its place. When he came back in the room, he totally bought that the table had shrunk again. The next time he left the room, we folded up the TV tray and didn't put anything else up. We told Josh that the table had shrunk so much that you couldn't even see it anymore.
The best part is, during some of this I'd casually knock on the wall without Josh seeing me, and tell him Casper was outside.
My family is so warped. Too bad most of the kids in our family are getting too old to believe in shrinking tables.
Friday, October 29, 2004
why I smell like wet dog
How to give an 80 pound Lab a bath:
- Gather supplies. You'll need shampoo, of course, as well as three towels. Old towels. Better make that four.
- Change into old clothes that you can immediately throw away afterward.
- Chase the dog around the house. Herd the dog into the bathroom. Shut and lock door.
- Coax the dog into the bathtub.
- Turn on the water. Let the dog sniff it and take a drink. DO NOT splash dog in face and then laugh hysterically.
- Turn on the showerhead. Spray dog and wet entire body. Do not be fooled by the pathetic look dog gives you. It's a ruse. Dog is looking for opportunity to shake itself and spray water all over you.
- Dog shakes itself and sprays water all over you. DO NOT attempt to dry yourself off. This will result in more shaking or a possible escape by dog.
- Lather the dog with shampoo. Do not be fooled by innocent look on dog's face. Dog is waiting for you to get more shampoo so it can shake again.
- Rinse dog. Avert eyes when dog shakes and sprays water AND shampoo all over you. Dog is trying to get shampoo in your eyes so it can escape.
- Turn off water. Block tub so dog cannot jump out of the tub and soak the bathroom floor.
- When dog jumps out of the tub and soaks the bathroom floor, grab a towel. Dry dog.
- I said DRY the dog, not chase it around in circles holding the towel out helplessly.
- Open bathroom door. Let dog run free.
- Do not let dog knock you over as it runs psychotically around the house.
- Wait for dog to get tired and sit down. Attack with towel.
- Dry dog as best you can.
- DO NOT let dog outside. Dog only wants to frolick in the leaves and rub itself in the dirt.
- Tempt the dog away from the back door with treats.
- Wait 5 minutes. Dog will fall into deep sleep.
- Clean bathroom.
- Oh, by the way, you should have probably brushed dog before bathing. All that hair will clog the drain.
- Forget cleaning, burn down bathroom and start building anew.
- Next time, bathe dog outside with a hose in a kiddie swimming pool.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
the sun'll come out . . .
I feel bad writing about anything trivial right now. My grandpa is in the hospital, he has been since Monday. I haven't been able to visit because I've been sick and have had class, but my mom says he doesn't really recognize anyone anyway. They think he had a stroke. They're fairly certain, but I don't think they know for sure. My parents went to visit him again tonight and now he won't even wake up for anyone.
It doesn't look good. I feel guilty for being pessimistic, especially when I haven't seen him for myself. About a year ago he was in the hospital, I can't remember why now, for what we all thought was going to be the last time and he pulled through it. I think it's worse this time.
What is it that makes us feel guilty for thinking of our own trivial stuff when someone we love is sick or in pain? It's not like worrying or crying is going to accomplish anything. You can't think about one thing 24 hours a day. You can't hit pause on other things in your life to focus on just one aspect.
Still, I've been kicking myself all day whenever I think about something stupid, like how I hate Carter's beard or what I'm going to write my novel about or why this weird number keeps calling my cell phone.
I'm sure I'll be back to myself tomorrow. I think I just need to wallow for a bit. More posts on reality TV and my fish who hates me coming soon.
It doesn't look good. I feel guilty for being pessimistic, especially when I haven't seen him for myself. About a year ago he was in the hospital, I can't remember why now, for what we all thought was going to be the last time and he pulled through it. I think it's worse this time.
What is it that makes us feel guilty for thinking of our own trivial stuff when someone we love is sick or in pain? It's not like worrying or crying is going to accomplish anything. You can't think about one thing 24 hours a day. You can't hit pause on other things in your life to focus on just one aspect.
Still, I've been kicking myself all day whenever I think about something stupid, like how I hate Carter's beard or what I'm going to write my novel about or why this weird number keeps calling my cell phone.
I'm sure I'll be back to myself tomorrow. I think I just need to wallow for a bit. More posts on reality TV and my fish who hates me coming soon.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
dinner is served
I was just driving down the street and there was a little kid crouching down on the corner, facing the street. He was digging through the puddle next to the sidewalk, and I swear he pulled something out and stuck it in his mouth. I was too horrified to try and figure out what he was snacking on, so I sped by as quickly as possible.
Now I wish I'd pulled over and asked him. I've come up with several scenarios.
He was eating worms because his older brother told him that worms have special powers that make you grow extra fast. Or that they make you invisible. Or that they allow you to become stretchy, like Stretch Armstrong.
He was eating mud because he thought it was chocolate.
He was thirsty.
He was eating leaves because he was pretending to be a caterpillar.
He dropped candy into the puddle before I turned the corner and saw him, and what I really saw was him picking the candy out of the puddle and eating it. It's the least disgusting scenario, but still not all that appetizing.
Now I wish I'd pulled over and asked him. I've come up with several scenarios.
He was eating worms because his older brother told him that worms have special powers that make you grow extra fast. Or that they make you invisible. Or that they allow you to become stretchy, like Stretch Armstrong.
He was eating mud because he thought it was chocolate.
He was thirsty.
He was eating leaves because he was pretending to be a caterpillar.
He dropped candy into the puddle before I turned the corner and saw him, and what I really saw was him picking the candy out of the puddle and eating it. It's the least disgusting scenario, but still not all that appetizing.
long time, no see
I feel like I haven't posted in a hundred years. I was gone all weekend, busy at Wittenberg with Homecoming. The weekend kind of stretched into Monday for a few of us. Mary couldn't leave because of car problems (darn, right Mary?) so Kate and I decided to stick around til Monday afternoon.
Just to let everyone know, this isn't going to be the most exciting entry, mainly because I don't really feel good, but also because I don't feel like wrapping up the weekend into a neat little post because that will take a lot of effort. So this is going to seem random and pointless to a lot of you, but really, everyone should be used to that. Also, it's going to be really long so I probably will be too lazy to go back and read it again to make sure I didn't make stupid grammatical mistakes, so be kind.
The weekend was fantastic, as expected. I got to see a lot of people I wanted to, a few that I didn't, and a few that I wish I could have spent more time with. The reunion on Friday night at Janna's was crazy. I don't think I've ever been a part of the screaming-hugging-crying girl huddle before, but I guess that's what happens when you don't see your best friends for five months. The people that didn't know us thought we were crazy, but the people that did know us KNOW we're crazy so they didn't pay much attention. McMurray's was exactly the same, especially since it was basically run over with alumni and just a few of the older Witt students. It was like a flashback. Same beer in gallon jugs (classy, huh?), same sticky floor, same beer pong tables, same disgusting bathroom, where I was told that at some point that a freshman puked in the sink. Way to make us feel welcome, freshman.
Saturday was the game, which we didn't make it to, because it was raining and we were hungry and Blue Lagoon was on TV. I also had several run-ins with a wasp on Saturday. We were staying at Nancy's house, and when I woke up on one of the sofas Saturday morning, I felt something crawling on my hand that was underneath the pillow. I lifted the pillow and there's a huge, honking wasp crawling on it. I freaked out and threw the wasp on the floor, where it crawled somewhere I couldn't see. I grabbed my blanket and pillow and moved to a different spot, but I couldn't fall to sleep after that.
I figured it had crawled away to die, but later I was in the bathroom and I heard a weird buzzing coming from the light fixture. I thought maybe the light was about to burn out, but then the wasp came flying out, and I swear it flew right at me. I locked it in the bathroom, where it stayed for a couple hours, until Whitney's boyfriend killed it.
I don't usually act like such a girl about stuff like that. If it had been a spider or pretty much any other bug I would have been fine. But I've always been terrified of things like bees, wasps, yellow jackets, basically anything that stings. I'm OK with anything else mother nature throws at me.
Saturday night was pretty much just like Friday night. We hung out at Janna's because it was her birthday, and then we went to McMurray's. Then we went to the Gamma Phi house, probably out of habit, to raid the fridge. I don't think we ended up eating anything. Danielle told us that the girls in the house have had the kitchen locked on them a few times, I guess because people were stealing food, which, let me tell you, is something that always goes on. I'll never understand why, when the members have paid or are paying out the ass for the food, they're restricted in how they can eat it.
On Sunday, Mary, Kate, and I got to be guests on Janna and Danielle's radio show. It was fun, but we weren't allowed to curse or talk about hoo-hoos so Mary and I were mostly pretty quiet. Honestly, I don't know how Janna and Danielle do it, especially Janna (hi, Janna!)
We spent the night in the sorority house that night, enjoying their new furniture and freaking BIG SCREEN TV, which they waited to purchase until we were all gone. Thanks a lot. We didn't even have a remote for our TV and then they go and buy a big screen. I give it a couple of months before some frat guy throws the new ottoman into it. Oh, frat guy.
I don't know if it's because I was around a lot of people this weekend, or if it's the fact that I got about 14 hours of sleep in three nights, but I went to bed Sunday feeling like crap, and that feeling has stuck around til now. Maybe I'm being punished for all the fun I had.
I don't care.
It was totally worth it.
Just to let everyone know, this isn't going to be the most exciting entry, mainly because I don't really feel good, but also because I don't feel like wrapping up the weekend into a neat little post because that will take a lot of effort. So this is going to seem random and pointless to a lot of you, but really, everyone should be used to that. Also, it's going to be really long so I probably will be too lazy to go back and read it again to make sure I didn't make stupid grammatical mistakes, so be kind.
The weekend was fantastic, as expected. I got to see a lot of people I wanted to, a few that I didn't, and a few that I wish I could have spent more time with. The reunion on Friday night at Janna's was crazy. I don't think I've ever been a part of the screaming-hugging-crying girl huddle before, but I guess that's what happens when you don't see your best friends for five months. The people that didn't know us thought we were crazy, but the people that did know us KNOW we're crazy so they didn't pay much attention. McMurray's was exactly the same, especially since it was basically run over with alumni and just a few of the older Witt students. It was like a flashback. Same beer in gallon jugs (classy, huh?), same sticky floor, same beer pong tables, same disgusting bathroom, where I was told that at some point that a freshman puked in the sink. Way to make us feel welcome, freshman.
Saturday was the game, which we didn't make it to, because it was raining and we were hungry and Blue Lagoon was on TV. I also had several run-ins with a wasp on Saturday. We were staying at Nancy's house, and when I woke up on one of the sofas Saturday morning, I felt something crawling on my hand that was underneath the pillow. I lifted the pillow and there's a huge, honking wasp crawling on it. I freaked out and threw the wasp on the floor, where it crawled somewhere I couldn't see. I grabbed my blanket and pillow and moved to a different spot, but I couldn't fall to sleep after that.
I figured it had crawled away to die, but later I was in the bathroom and I heard a weird buzzing coming from the light fixture. I thought maybe the light was about to burn out, but then the wasp came flying out, and I swear it flew right at me. I locked it in the bathroom, where it stayed for a couple hours, until Whitney's boyfriend killed it.
I don't usually act like such a girl about stuff like that. If it had been a spider or pretty much any other bug I would have been fine. But I've always been terrified of things like bees, wasps, yellow jackets, basically anything that stings. I'm OK with anything else mother nature throws at me.
Saturday night was pretty much just like Friday night. We hung out at Janna's because it was her birthday, and then we went to McMurray's. Then we went to the Gamma Phi house, probably out of habit, to raid the fridge. I don't think we ended up eating anything. Danielle told us that the girls in the house have had the kitchen locked on them a few times, I guess because people were stealing food, which, let me tell you, is something that always goes on. I'll never understand why, when the members have paid or are paying out the ass for the food, they're restricted in how they can eat it.
On Sunday, Mary, Kate, and I got to be guests on Janna and Danielle's radio show. It was fun, but we weren't allowed to curse or talk about hoo-hoos so Mary and I were mostly pretty quiet. Honestly, I don't know how Janna and Danielle do it, especially Janna (hi, Janna!)
We spent the night in the sorority house that night, enjoying their new furniture and freaking BIG SCREEN TV, which they waited to purchase until we were all gone. Thanks a lot. We didn't even have a remote for our TV and then they go and buy a big screen. I give it a couple of months before some frat guy throws the new ottoman into it. Oh, frat guy.
I don't know if it's because I was around a lot of people this weekend, or if it's the fact that I got about 14 hours of sleep in three nights, but I went to bed Sunday feeling like crap, and that feeling has stuck around til now. Maybe I'm being punished for all the fun I had.
I don't care.
It was totally worth it.
Friday, October 22, 2004
quick note
Bridget Jones fans: Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, and Renee Zellweger are all on Oprah today. This is good.
V.v.g.
V.v.g.
watch out, McMurray's
This is just a note to say I probably won't be posting all weekend. It's Homecoming weekend at good, old Wittenberg, so I'll be busy running around and catching up with all my BFFs. And maybe going to the football game. You know, if it's not too cold.
I hope this weekend can top last year's Homecoming, but it's going to be tough. Last year, there was a party in this circus sized tent in the house's backyard across the parking lot from our apartment. I know that doesn't sound all that fun, but c'mon! Tent! Music! Alumni! A kid's pool filled with ice and Natty Lite! Yuuuum yum!
Yeah, yeah. Have a good weekend, everyone!
I hope this weekend can top last year's Homecoming, but it's going to be tough. Last year, there was a party in this circus sized tent in the house's backyard across the parking lot from our apartment. I know that doesn't sound all that fun, but c'mon! Tent! Music! Alumni! A kid's pool filled with ice and Natty Lite! Yuuuum yum!
Yeah, yeah. Have a good weekend, everyone!
Thursday, October 21, 2004
ding dong, the witch is dead
Actually, though, I think she'd be more like an evil munchkin or something.
I actually cheered and laughed triumphantly tonight when Stacy was fired from The Apprentice. Does that make me a bad person?
I don't care if it does. She was awful. She was like an angry, little chihuahua.
I love that Trump totally called her out on the fact that she never accepts responsibility for anything and yet in her exit interview she STILL didn't get that she did anything wrong.
What an evil, short bitch. And I can say that, because I am both short and a bitch.
Ok, and also evil.
Don't tell.
I actually cheered and laughed triumphantly tonight when Stacy was fired from The Apprentice. Does that make me a bad person?
I don't care if it does. She was awful. She was like an angry, little chihuahua.
I love that Trump totally called her out on the fact that she never accepts responsibility for anything and yet in her exit interview she STILL didn't get that she did anything wrong.
What an evil, short bitch. And I can say that, because I am both short and a bitch.
Ok, and also evil.
Don't tell.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
this is totally off-topic . . .
Although it's not as if this blog really has a topic, so never mind. John Kerry was in Dayton yesterday for a rally. I couldn't go because of class, but I watched it on TV when I got home. It was basically all stuff I knew or had heard before, because it's too late in the campaign for the candidates to say anything new that might screw them over in two weeks. Speaking of two weeks, can you believe there are only 13 days until the election? Seems crazy. I wonder if there will be a clear cut winner right away, or if it'll take months before we know who the real president is. Sigh.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, right, the rally. John Glenn introduced Kerry, and when Kerry took the stage he told this story about how this one time he, John Glenn, and John McCain had gone to Vietnam for some reason or another. This struck me as incredibly funny, because I kept picturing one of them going, "John, no, not you, John, you. Hey, John. Dammit, McCain, I said not you!" Basically I was picturing some whole "who's on first" debacle and it cracked me up.
Later, I was watching Conan and Alison Janney was one of his guests. I had no idea she was from Dayton, but apprently she is. Martin Sheen is also from Dayton (this kid in high school saw him at a Dorothy Lane Market once, and he was the school celebrity (the kid, not Martin Sheen, wow, parentheses within parentheses, THAT is talent) for like a week, even though he was this giant dork who, one time, got completely high from taking too many Benedryl) and I keep wondering if they talk about Dayton while they're on the set of The West Wing.
If anyone followed that last paragraph, I'm really impressed.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, right, the rally. John Glenn introduced Kerry, and when Kerry took the stage he told this story about how this one time he, John Glenn, and John McCain had gone to Vietnam for some reason or another. This struck me as incredibly funny, because I kept picturing one of them going, "John, no, not you, John, you. Hey, John. Dammit, McCain, I said not you!" Basically I was picturing some whole "who's on first" debacle and it cracked me up.
Later, I was watching Conan and Alison Janney was one of his guests. I had no idea she was from Dayton, but apprently she is. Martin Sheen is also from Dayton (this kid in high school saw him at a Dorothy Lane Market once, and he was the school celebrity (the kid, not Martin Sheen, wow, parentheses within parentheses, THAT is talent) for like a week, even though he was this giant dork who, one time, got completely high from taking too many Benedryl) and I keep wondering if they talk about Dayton while they're on the set of The West Wing.
If anyone followed that last paragraph, I'm really impressed.
so mature
I just noticed that my new cell phone has something called "My VCard" in the settings.
Hee. My cell phone is a virgin.
On a completely different note, I'm trying not to pay too much attention to the Red Sox/Yankees game, because I think the Red Sox do better when I'm not really watching.
This is why I'm afraid to get too engrossed in a specific sports team. I think I'd get so supersticious about stuff I did that made my team win or lose that I'd never get anything done.
That said, I love an underdog, so go Red Sox!
Hee. My cell phone is a virgin.
On a completely different note, I'm trying not to pay too much attention to the Red Sox/Yankees game, because I think the Red Sox do better when I'm not really watching.
This is why I'm afraid to get too engrossed in a specific sports team. I think I'd get so supersticious about stuff I did that made my team win or lose that I'd never get anything done.
That said, I love an underdog, so go Red Sox!
no name fish
Last night I had a dream that my fish kept jumping out of his bowl. He did it a couple times and I caught him and put him back in the water, but right before I woke up he jumped out again and died.
Why am I having dreams about my fish dying? Is my life so drama-free that my subconscious has to kill off my pets? I don't think that's it. Am I really that worried about my fish's well-being? I doubt it. Do I really think my fish is going to jump out of his bowl when I'm not looking? Well, kind of.
Honestly, I think the main reason is that, deep down, I think my fish hates me. I don't know why. I just get this hostile vibe whenever I walk past his bowl.
I think it all comes down to the fact that, at least in my dreams, my fish would rather jump out of the bowl and kill himself than be with me.
Maybe it's because I still haven't really named him. I tried, but nothing seems to stick.
I'd rather call him Fish than call him something that isn't his name.
Why am I having dreams about my fish dying? Is my life so drama-free that my subconscious has to kill off my pets? I don't think that's it. Am I really that worried about my fish's well-being? I doubt it. Do I really think my fish is going to jump out of his bowl when I'm not looking? Well, kind of.
Honestly, I think the main reason is that, deep down, I think my fish hates me. I don't know why. I just get this hostile vibe whenever I walk past his bowl.
I think it all comes down to the fact that, at least in my dreams, my fish would rather jump out of the bowl and kill himself than be with me.
Maybe it's because I still haven't really named him. I tried, but nothing seems to stick.
I'd rather call him Fish than call him something that isn't his name.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
pardon the egg salad
Because Blogger suggested it, I'm going to be participating in National Novel Writing Month, which takes place in November. I created another blog for it and everything. I have no idea what kind of novel I'm going to write. I have a couple of ideas, but I'm a little worried because I have the tendency to start a project, completely change my mind about what I'm doing, and start all over with another idea.
For inspiration I'm going to be reading Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott, because we read bits of it in one of my writing classes and it was amazing in its simplicity.
I'll be interested to see if I keep up with this project for the whole month, and if so, what kind of crappy novel I end up with.
Once it starts, I hope everyone who reads this blog will comment on my "novel" because I think I'll need the encouragement.
For inspiration I'm going to be reading Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott, because we read bits of it in one of my writing classes and it was amazing in its simplicity.
I'll be interested to see if I keep up with this project for the whole month, and if so, what kind of crappy novel I end up with.
Once it starts, I hope everyone who reads this blog will comment on my "novel" because I think I'll need the encouragement.
Agent Mulder, FBI . . . oops, wrong show
Things I've learned from watching Alias:
- Don't mess with Spy Daddy Bristow.
- Missions will always go wrong. Just deal with it. And try not to get killed. And if it looks like you get killed, try to come back at a crucial moment.
- If someone is hot and they have an accent, they are probably a bad guy.
- If you're a double agent working for both the CIA and an agency posing as the CIA and you fall in love with your real-CIA handler and then you go missing for two years and when you come back your CIA-handler-boyfriend has married some blonde with a really bad accent, don't worry because she'll turn out to be evil.
- Don't trust your friends because they might be clones sent to spy on you.
- People who are presumed dead will always come back.
- There is nothing that a hot outfit and a good wig won't fix.
- Never trust Uncle Arvin . . . or your mother . . . or your father . . . or your sister . . . or anyone, basically.
- Rambaldi is a douchebag.
- If Quentin Tarantino shows up, all bets are off.
- Vaughn = hotness, evil wife or not.
- You can have the beating of a lifetime, fall down a deep pit, get shot, get stabbed, get drugged, get cancer, disappear for two years, actually die, and still live.
- You can still kick ass in a mini and heels.
- FBI . . . CIA . . . SD-6 . . . all nothing without some awesome gadgets from Marshall.
- There is no such thing as jet lag.
- Dorky/chubby agents are way more fun than the regular/serious characters.
- You can work for the CIA as a double agent for another intelligence agency and still have time to complete graduate school.
- Don't trust anyone from Russia. Or England. Or Germany. Or France. Or anywhere, OK?
- Watching too many episodes of Alias in a row makes you think you are being watched. Or that you could be a spy. You couldn't, though. Trust me.
- Don't watch Alias while drinking, because you'll just have to watch it again tomorrow.
- Here's what is going on: Sidney was a double agent. In Season One she worked for SD-6 and the CIA. She took down SD-6 in the second half of Season Two and some other stuff happened in the first half, but I haven't seen it yet. She disappeared for two years, came back in Season Three, was sad because Vaughn married Moronen, blah, blah, I don't know. But her mom is a spy and her dad completely orchestrated her entire life. I think. This is more confusing than The X-Files, and that's saying something.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
BFF
I wish I had something fun and interesting to post about. I mean, I had a fun and interesting weekend, but I really don't think it'll sound that exciting to anyone else. I spent most of Saturday morning and afternoon in Springfield, campaigning for Kerry. I didn't get to meet him, by the way, but it just occured to me that I could have totally lied and said I did meet him and none of you would know the difference (unless John Kerry is reading this, in which case, call me, Johnny, we'll talk). I think it's a testament to our relationship that I was truthful.
Plus, anything I would have made up would have sounded, well, made up. I probably would have said something like, "I met John Kerry and he took my cell phone and prank-called my friends and family," or "I went to the bar with John Kerry and we karaoked 'If I Could Turn Back Time' and it was awesome," or "John Kerry came home with me and we stayed up all night talking, eating junk food, watching 13 Going on 30, and arguing over which politician is cutest (I said John Edwards, but he seemed stuck on JFK)" but I doubt anyone would have believed that.
The campaigning was interesting. Basically we walked around neighborhoods in Springfield, interrupting everyone's quiet, Saturday morning. Not that many people were home. Or answered the door. But it was fun, even though for a brief moment we were hailed (!!!) on. No one was hurt. And then the sun came out, so we figured the whole hail thing was a rite of passage.
Last night, I went to Stiffie's place. Two of her friends were visiting, and we were all going to have a girls night in. You know, watch movies, drink, talk, laugh, etc (much like the John Kerry lie above, only minus the Kerry). The problem was, we were all so exhausted that we had two drinks, started nodding off in front of Bring it On and decided to call it a night. So sad, we are. Heh, that sounded like Yoda.
Today, Stiffie and I went to the theatre (said with British accent, notice the "re" not "er"). We saw Crazy for You, because my mom got free tickets from work and who passes up free tickets? No one, that's who. I had no idea what the show was about, but it turns out the show was written by the Gershwins and I knew most of the songs because sophomore year I took a 20th century music class and when George Gershwin came around I liked him so much that I bought a bunch of CDs and I realize that makes me a giant dork but I'm OK with it.
The show was great, but Stiffie and I were definitely the youngest people there. I saw my 7th grade science teacher, but I didn't say anything. I figured she wouldn't remember me, partly because it's been nine years since I was in her class, but mostly because the only noteworthy thing I did in there was get in trouble for chewing gum. I know, I'm such a rebel.
It was a great weekend, though, and I should have gone to bed earlier because I was really tired. Now, however, I have gotten a second wind and I'll probably be up til 2. Oops.
Plus, anything I would have made up would have sounded, well, made up. I probably would have said something like, "I met John Kerry and he took my cell phone and prank-called my friends and family," or "I went to the bar with John Kerry and we karaoked 'If I Could Turn Back Time' and it was awesome," or "John Kerry came home with me and we stayed up all night talking, eating junk food, watching 13 Going on 30, and arguing over which politician is cutest (I said John Edwards, but he seemed stuck on JFK)" but I doubt anyone would have believed that.
The campaigning was interesting. Basically we walked around neighborhoods in Springfield, interrupting everyone's quiet, Saturday morning. Not that many people were home. Or answered the door. But it was fun, even though for a brief moment we were hailed (!!!) on. No one was hurt. And then the sun came out, so we figured the whole hail thing was a rite of passage.
Last night, I went to Stiffie's place. Two of her friends were visiting, and we were all going to have a girls night in. You know, watch movies, drink, talk, laugh, etc (much like the John Kerry lie above, only minus the Kerry). The problem was, we were all so exhausted that we had two drinks, started nodding off in front of Bring it On and decided to call it a night. So sad, we are. Heh, that sounded like Yoda.
Today, Stiffie and I went to the theatre (said with British accent, notice the "re" not "er"). We saw Crazy for You, because my mom got free tickets from work and who passes up free tickets? No one, that's who. I had no idea what the show was about, but it turns out the show was written by the Gershwins and I knew most of the songs because sophomore year I took a 20th century music class and when George Gershwin came around I liked him so much that I bought a bunch of CDs and I realize that makes me a giant dork but I'm OK with it.
The show was great, but Stiffie and I were definitely the youngest people there. I saw my 7th grade science teacher, but I didn't say anything. I figured she wouldn't remember me, partly because it's been nine years since I was in her class, but mostly because the only noteworthy thing I did in there was get in trouble for chewing gum. I know, I'm such a rebel.
It was a great weekend, though, and I should have gone to bed earlier because I was really tired. Now, however, I have gotten a second wind and I'll probably be up til 2. Oops.
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Today's Weather Report
Shitty. Frigid. Arctic winds. Possible hail. With a chance of pissing rain.
Beautiful, Ohio, just beautiful.
Beautiful, Ohio, just beautiful.
Friday, October 15, 2004
to do, DONE
I think writing down that to do list actually helped, because I've done a few of the things I needed to. I shaved my legs, finally, which is a pain in the ass but the end product is quite nice. I started pursuing one job and I have a lead on another one (thanks, Stephanie!). I'm in the middle of changing my fish's water. Right now he's floating around a tupperware dish until the water in his bowl reaches room temperature. He looks pissed, but I think he'll get over it.
I went and got my winter clothes out of storage today, too. It was almost like going shopping. As I pulled out sweaters and coats, I kept shouting, "Oh man, I LOVE this sweater! I forgot I had it!" It was like Christmas, but with a little deja vu thrown in.
Best of all, I've been fixing my computer. I did what Kat said, backed up my harddrive and completely reinstalled Windows. Except, instead of installing Windows 98, which is what I had, I installed Windows XP. I like it so far. Everything seems to be running well. I reinstalled AOL, AIM (most important, in my opinion), Mozilla, and Microsoft Office. I have a few more to do, but I think I'll spread them out. I don't want my computer to get overwhelmed. We've been getting along much better lately.
Sure, I still have a few more things on my to do list, but I think of taken care of the ones that are both the most time-consuming and the least fun.
To do tomorrow? Meet the future president. Hopefully. If he's not there, and I had to get up that early for nothing, I'm gonna be really pissed.
Not pissed enough to do anything crazy, like vote for Bush, but still . . . pissed.
I went and got my winter clothes out of storage today, too. It was almost like going shopping. As I pulled out sweaters and coats, I kept shouting, "Oh man, I LOVE this sweater! I forgot I had it!" It was like Christmas, but with a little deja vu thrown in.
Best of all, I've been fixing my computer. I did what Kat said, backed up my harddrive and completely reinstalled Windows. Except, instead of installing Windows 98, which is what I had, I installed Windows XP. I like it so far. Everything seems to be running well. I reinstalled AOL, AIM (most important, in my opinion), Mozilla, and Microsoft Office. I have a few more to do, but I think I'll spread them out. I don't want my computer to get overwhelmed. We've been getting along much better lately.
Sure, I still have a few more things on my to do list, but I think of taken care of the ones that are both the most time-consuming and the least fun.
To do tomorrow? Meet the future president. Hopefully. If he's not there, and I had to get up that early for nothing, I'm gonna be really pissed.
Not pissed enough to do anything crazy, like vote for Bush, but still . . . pissed.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
to do . . . eventually
Things I've been putting off lately:
- job searching
- taking library books back
- shaving my legs (thank you, cool weather)
- reading books I keep buying or getting from the library, they just keep stacking up
- watching the last two episodes of Alias: season one
- listening to the new Norah Jones CD
- burning some CDs I got from the library (is this illegal? I don't care)
- changing the water in my fish's bowl
- getting some film developed
- getting my sweaters and coats out of storage
- fixing my computer, because this will involve backing up my harddrive and reinstalling Windows and I'm afraid my computer will revolt against me
- selling the guitar that I've had for four years but cannot play, except for a few chords
- replying to e-mail
- checking my mailbox at Witt, which I'm pretty sure is overflowing with junk by now
- paying a fine at the public library
- paying a fine at Witt's library
- paying a fine at the other public library
doctor's orders
WebMD is the devil. I swear, it would turn the most level-headed, healthy person into a sniffling, coughing, complaining hypocondriac.
I started to get a fever again last night, but this time I was smart and took some medicine BEFORE the violent shivering started. Then I noticed that my stomach kind of hurt in the same way it did the night before (I don't know if I mentioned that). It wasn't like a stabbing pain or anything, but definitely wasn't pleasant. So, since I couldn't sleep anyway, I decided to see what WebMD had to say.
Over the course of about 25 minutes, I convinced myself I had one (or all) of the following: appendicitis, ovarian cancer, meningitis, hypothyroidism, and some sort of parasite.
The list would have been longer, but I made myself close WebMD and go to bed. Of course, then I just sat in bed trying to decide if my abdominal pain was localized, and if so, if the pain was in a place that would suggest appendicitis.
Paranoia. It's not pretty. I should have known better. After all, I hate going to the real doctor. I have white coat syndrome. Every time I'm in a doctor's office, my blood pressure skyrockets. Once, at the OB-GYN, my blood pressure was so high that the nurse freaked out and sent me home rather than give me a pelvic exam. And I was totally fine with that.
Sorry. I think that was probably too much information.
I started to get a fever again last night, but this time I was smart and took some medicine BEFORE the violent shivering started. Then I noticed that my stomach kind of hurt in the same way it did the night before (I don't know if I mentioned that). It wasn't like a stabbing pain or anything, but definitely wasn't pleasant. So, since I couldn't sleep anyway, I decided to see what WebMD had to say.
Over the course of about 25 minutes, I convinced myself I had one (or all) of the following: appendicitis, ovarian cancer, meningitis, hypothyroidism, and some sort of parasite.
The list would have been longer, but I made myself close WebMD and go to bed. Of course, then I just sat in bed trying to decide if my abdominal pain was localized, and if so, if the pain was in a place that would suggest appendicitis.
Paranoia. It's not pretty. I should have known better. After all, I hate going to the real doctor. I have white coat syndrome. Every time I'm in a doctor's office, my blood pressure skyrockets. Once, at the OB-GYN, my blood pressure was so high that the nurse freaked out and sent me home rather than give me a pelvic exam. And I was totally fine with that.
Sorry. I think that was probably too much information.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Drink responsibly
I'm so glad the pointless arguing debates are over. I watched it, of course, but I have to say, it was pretty boring. Mainly because we've heard it all before. My dad and I decided it would be a lot more exciting if you made the debate a drinking game. I realize this is useless now, because the debates are over, but if you have HBO OnDemand, you can watch them whenever you want.
Kerry mentions Vietnam - one drink
There's an uncomfortable pause during Bush's answer - one drink
Kerry writes something down - one drink
Bush makes a "joke" - one drink
Kerry makes a "joke" - two drinks
Bush says something about Kerry not knowing how the world works - two drinks
Kerry says something about the incredible mistakes of the Bush administration - two drinks
The moderator looks like he wants to bitchslap one of the candidates - three drinks
Bush makes up a word - one shot
Kerry says a word you don't understand - one shot
Bush says something that doesn't make sense - one drink (this will happen a lot, be careful)
Kerry makes crazy hand gestures - one drink (this will happen a lot, too)
Bush blinks excessively - chug a beer
You change the channel because you're bored - one drink
Someone spouts off a statistic - drink a bottle of tequila, hope to pass out
I wish I'd taken my own advice before I watched the debate. I'll just be so glad when November 2nd comes and goes. Because I'm in a swing state (O-H! I-O!), whenever I watch TV I'm subjected to all the negative, mud-slinging campaign ads. So tired.
In other news, I might get to meet John Kerry on Saturday. He's coming to Springfield this weekend to campaign door-to-door so they were looking for people who are familiar with the area to help. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but apparently at some point we all get to meet him. I'll let everyone know if he's as weird looking in person as he is on TV.
UPDATE: I just found another Debate Drinking Game, and it's MUCH better than mine.
Kerry mentions Vietnam - one drink
There's an uncomfortable pause during Bush's answer - one drink
Kerry writes something down - one drink
Bush makes a "joke" - one drink
Kerry makes a "joke" - two drinks
Bush says something about Kerry not knowing how the world works - two drinks
Kerry says something about the incredible mistakes of the Bush administration - two drinks
The moderator looks like he wants to bitchslap one of the candidates - three drinks
Bush makes up a word - one shot
Kerry says a word you don't understand - one shot
Bush says something that doesn't make sense - one drink (this will happen a lot, be careful)
Kerry makes crazy hand gestures - one drink (this will happen a lot, too)
Bush blinks excessively - chug a beer
You change the channel because you're bored - one drink
Someone spouts off a statistic - drink a bottle of tequila, hope to pass out
I wish I'd taken my own advice before I watched the debate. I'll just be so glad when November 2nd comes and goes. Because I'm in a swing state (O-H! I-O!), whenever I watch TV I'm subjected to all the negative, mud-slinging campaign ads. So tired.
In other news, I might get to meet John Kerry on Saturday. He's coming to Springfield this weekend to campaign door-to-door so they were looking for people who are familiar with the area to help. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but apparently at some point we all get to meet him. I'll let everyone know if he's as weird looking in person as he is on TV.
UPDATE: I just found another Debate Drinking Game, and it's MUCH better than mine.
wtf?
I had the strangest night last night. I woke up around 3 AM, shivering like crazy. I looked to see if my window was open. It was open a tiny crack, so I closed it, but that didn't explain why I was shivering. I didn't even really feel cold at all. My skin had that extra sensitive feeling that it gets whenever I have a fever, so I decided to take my temperature. I don't know if the thermometer was broken, of if the fact that I was shaking so much messed it up, but it said my temp was 96.7. Hmm.
I took some Ibuprofen (I spilled half the bottle on the floor, because I was shivering so much), just in case, because no matter what the thermometer said I felt like I had a fever. My face felt like it was giving off heat, yet I was shivering so much my teeth were chattering. I put on a long-sleeved t-shirt, over the t-shirt I was already wearing. I changed into heavy, flannel pajama pants. I put thick socks on. I put another comforter on my bed, and I crawled under the sheets and curled up in a little ball. I cannot explain to you how miserable I felt at this point. I thought about waking someone up so they could help me figure out what was wrong, but I didn't want to leave the warm covers. I was still shivering, my skin rubbing against my clothes actually hurt, and, according to the thermometer (which is at least 14 years old) nothing was even wrong with me.
Eventually I (mostly) quit shivering and fell asleep. I woke up around 5 because I was burning up and sweating like crazy. I threw off my covers and shed my extra layers, then fell back to sleep. No more shivering.
This morning when I woke up, I couldn't remember if any of that actually happened, or if I had dreamed it. Then I saw the thermometer on my nightstand. So, yeah. I don't know what the deal was, but it SUCKED and let's never do it again, ok? Great.
I took some Ibuprofen (I spilled half the bottle on the floor, because I was shivering so much), just in case, because no matter what the thermometer said I felt like I had a fever. My face felt like it was giving off heat, yet I was shivering so much my teeth were chattering. I put on a long-sleeved t-shirt, over the t-shirt I was already wearing. I changed into heavy, flannel pajama pants. I put thick socks on. I put another comforter on my bed, and I crawled under the sheets and curled up in a little ball. I cannot explain to you how miserable I felt at this point. I thought about waking someone up so they could help me figure out what was wrong, but I didn't want to leave the warm covers. I was still shivering, my skin rubbing against my clothes actually hurt, and, according to the thermometer (which is at least 14 years old) nothing was even wrong with me.
Eventually I (mostly) quit shivering and fell asleep. I woke up around 5 because I was burning up and sweating like crazy. I threw off my covers and shed my extra layers, then fell back to sleep. No more shivering.
This morning when I woke up, I couldn't remember if any of that actually happened, or if I had dreamed it. Then I saw the thermometer on my nightstand. So, yeah. I don't know what the deal was, but it SUCKED and let's never do it again, ok? Great.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Journal of the Unemployed
I know this is written in first person, and I am a woman, and I do read blogs, and I am unemployed, and I do sometimes lack the motivation to drag myself out of bed before noon on days when I have nothing to do, but this is FICTION. I'll even provide the protagonist's name, which I have just made up. Betsy. Betsy Gardner.
Maybe it's the start of something, maybe it's only a character study I'll never come back to, but here it is. Again, FICTION. In actuality, I'm much lazier and much more prone to procrastination than poor Betsy.
***
Know what I did today? The same thing I've been doing all summer. I got up around noon, which is early for me, made half a pot of coffee and signed online. I checked away messages. Everyone was doing something productive; they were at class, at work, at the library. I was in my pajamas, hair mussed, no bra, the very picture of success. I checked my e-mail and ignored all of the important messages.
I'll answer them later, I thought.
Next, I started reading blogs. I read a lot of them. It's kind of an addiction. I think I enjoy it because it's like reading a novel, only very slowly. I feel like I know these people. Reading a blog is like catching up with an old friend, except in this case I've never met the friend, I have no idea what their real name is, and I don't know what they look like. Still.
It took a good hour to check all the blogs, because most of them had a new entry. I wish I could find a job editing some of these blogs. Not to be rude, most of them are grammatically perfect and have already been obviously, painstakingly edited by the author, but some of them could use another run-through. I could do it. I have a degree in Journalism, anyway. I took this test once, an editing test, because I thought it would get me a job. I was so young, then, so innocent.
I normally finish my coffee before I'm done reading blogs. That's when I make lunch. Today I had a ham and cheese Hot Pocket. It was delicious, but mainly? It was cheap. I have a freezer full of them. Not just ham and cheese, of course, I do like some variety. I ate my pocket of scalding cheese in front of the computer. I finished reading blogs and checked my e-mail again. The e-mails, the ones I didn't feel like answering, were still there.
Later, I thought.
Once I finished lunch, I wandered out to the living room and turned on the TV. Nothing but soap operas, of course, but when all everything else has abandoned you, there's still Passions. Quite possibly the worst soap opera ever made, but entertaining nonetheless.
Around the time Teresa started rehashing her plans to get Ethan away from Gwen, I stood up and started pacing the apartment. This is a normal part of my day, too. It's the part where I'm hopped up on caffeine and I wonder where the hell I went wrong. I have a degree in journalism from a fairly good school. Why aren't I working?
To be fair, I did have a job at the town paper back home. Writing obits and wedding announcements. After a year and a half of this, and with no promise of promotion, I was ready to gouge my eyes out, so I took my savings and moved to Seattle. I'm still not really sure why I picked Seattle. Probably some misguided whim leftover from watching Sleepless in Seattle one too many times.
And here I am. I work at a bookstore four days a week. Enough to pay my rent (with some help from my ever-hopeful parents) and a couple of nights out. It's not that I don't want a job. I do. Very much. I've applied for jobs at publishing companies and newspapers all over Washington, not just Seattle. And nothing.
So, now I'm stuck between college and the real world. Sure, I have a job, but it's nothing to write home about. Believe me, if I found a full-time job, I would write home about it. Honestly! I already have the letter saved to my computer, ready to be printed at the first opportunity:
Dear Mom and Dad,
I found a job. You can stop asking everyone what you did wrong. See you at Thanksgiving. Your loving daughter, Betsy.
I can't wait.
It's around this time that my caffeine high wore off and I decided I should shower. So I did. Then I realized I didn't have to work today, so I slipped into another t-shirt and some yoga pants. I knew I needed to go to the grocery; the dog was hungry and I was out of Iams, but in the end I shoved some leftover chinese in the microwave and gave Bowser the rice.
After "dinner" I watched Real World reruns on MTV and fell asleep on the couch.
This is my life.
I need a real job.
Help.
Maybe it's the start of something, maybe it's only a character study I'll never come back to, but here it is. Again, FICTION. In actuality, I'm much lazier and much more prone to procrastination than poor Betsy.
***
Know what I did today? The same thing I've been doing all summer. I got up around noon, which is early for me, made half a pot of coffee and signed online. I checked away messages. Everyone was doing something productive; they were at class, at work, at the library. I was in my pajamas, hair mussed, no bra, the very picture of success. I checked my e-mail and ignored all of the important messages.
I'll answer them later, I thought.
Next, I started reading blogs. I read a lot of them. It's kind of an addiction. I think I enjoy it because it's like reading a novel, only very slowly. I feel like I know these people. Reading a blog is like catching up with an old friend, except in this case I've never met the friend, I have no idea what their real name is, and I don't know what they look like. Still.
It took a good hour to check all the blogs, because most of them had a new entry. I wish I could find a job editing some of these blogs. Not to be rude, most of them are grammatically perfect and have already been obviously, painstakingly edited by the author, but some of them could use another run-through. I could do it. I have a degree in Journalism, anyway. I took this test once, an editing test, because I thought it would get me a job. I was so young, then, so innocent.
I normally finish my coffee before I'm done reading blogs. That's when I make lunch. Today I had a ham and cheese Hot Pocket. It was delicious, but mainly? It was cheap. I have a freezer full of them. Not just ham and cheese, of course, I do like some variety. I ate my pocket of scalding cheese in front of the computer. I finished reading blogs and checked my e-mail again. The e-mails, the ones I didn't feel like answering, were still there.
Later, I thought.
Once I finished lunch, I wandered out to the living room and turned on the TV. Nothing but soap operas, of course, but when all everything else has abandoned you, there's still Passions. Quite possibly the worst soap opera ever made, but entertaining nonetheless.
Around the time Teresa started rehashing her plans to get Ethan away from Gwen, I stood up and started pacing the apartment. This is a normal part of my day, too. It's the part where I'm hopped up on caffeine and I wonder where the hell I went wrong. I have a degree in journalism from a fairly good school. Why aren't I working?
To be fair, I did have a job at the town paper back home. Writing obits and wedding announcements. After a year and a half of this, and with no promise of promotion, I was ready to gouge my eyes out, so I took my savings and moved to Seattle. I'm still not really sure why I picked Seattle. Probably some misguided whim leftover from watching Sleepless in Seattle one too many times.
And here I am. I work at a bookstore four days a week. Enough to pay my rent (with some help from my ever-hopeful parents) and a couple of nights out. It's not that I don't want a job. I do. Very much. I've applied for jobs at publishing companies and newspapers all over Washington, not just Seattle. And nothing.
So, now I'm stuck between college and the real world. Sure, I have a job, but it's nothing to write home about. Believe me, if I found a full-time job, I would write home about it. Honestly! I already have the letter saved to my computer, ready to be printed at the first opportunity:
Dear Mom and Dad,
I found a job. You can stop asking everyone what you did wrong. See you at Thanksgiving. Your loving daughter, Betsy.
I can't wait.
It's around this time that my caffeine high wore off and I decided I should shower. So I did. Then I realized I didn't have to work today, so I slipped into another t-shirt and some yoga pants. I knew I needed to go to the grocery; the dog was hungry and I was out of Iams, but in the end I shoved some leftover chinese in the microwave and gave Bowser the rice.
After "dinner" I watched Real World reruns on MTV and fell asleep on the couch.
This is my life.
I need a real job.
Help.
Monday, October 11, 2004
life is good
Sometimes I worry about stupid shit. And when I do, I have to sit down and give myself a reality check. You know how I do that? I think about people who aren't as lucky as I am. Because I am lucky. I have a great family, that loves me and supports me even when I make stupid mistakes (oh, and when I make mistakes, I make 'em BIG). I have wonderful friends, as I was reminded again tonight; friends who make me laugh and who I love more than I ever thought was possible. I'm healthy, I've always had a place to sleep, I've never gone hungry, and a lot of the negative things in my life are my own fault, and I know if I try hard enough I can turn even those negative things around.
When I think about stuff like that, I really can't freak out about a test or what I'm going to do with my life or who wins the election or how my car smells like freaking garlic right now (thanks Olive Garden).
I'm just damn happy.
When I think about stuff like that, I really can't freak out about a test or what I'm going to do with my life or who wins the election or how my car smells like freaking garlic right now (thanks Olive Garden).
I'm just damn happy.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
just lovely
My mom, singing to Ripley (the dog) : You're so pretty, Oh, so pretty!
Ripley: buuuuuuuuurrrrrp!
My dog has perfect timing.
Ripley: buuuuuuuuurrrrrp!
My dog has perfect timing.
super size this
I watched Super Size Me last night, and I think it's pretty safe to say that I'm never eating at McDonald's again. Or any fast food place, for that matter. It's not that I just now figured out that fast food is bad for you. Everyone knows that. I just didn't realize HOW bad it is for you.
Now that I think of it, I don't really eat fast food that much anymore. And even when I did, I hardly ever went to McDonald's. Usually if I eat fast food, I go to Wendy's.
Oh, Wendy's. How much money have I spent on your delicious singles and Frosties? Wendy's was the hangover cure of champions at school. It's like magic.
I have a feeling I won't be able to completely give up Wendy's, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I biggie size anything.
Now that I think of it, I don't really eat fast food that much anymore. And even when I did, I hardly ever went to McDonald's. Usually if I eat fast food, I go to Wendy's.
Oh, Wendy's. How much money have I spent on your delicious singles and Frosties? Wendy's was the hangover cure of champions at school. It's like magic.
I have a feeling I won't be able to completely give up Wendy's, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I biggie size anything.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
does this explain the blinking?
Interesting rumor flying around about the first debate.
You have to register for the NY Times website, but it's free and I recommend doing it anyway. C'mon, it's ALL THE NEWS THAT'S FIT TO PRINT. Where else are you going to go to get informed? Fox News? Pshaw, I say! Pshaw!
You have to register for the NY Times website, but it's free and I recommend doing it anyway. C'mon, it's ALL THE NEWS THAT'S FIT TO PRINT. Where else are you going to go to get informed? Fox News? Pshaw, I say! Pshaw!
I should be embarrassed, but I'm not
I just read this book called The Journal of Mortifying Moments (which was HORRIBLE, no one read it) and I thought I'd share some things I do that I hope no one ever witnesses.
Every time a Cher song comes on the radio, I feel the need to sing along (loudly) doing my best Cher impersonation. Especially if that song is Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves. I also used to do a Kelly Clarkson impersonation, but lots of people have witnessed that, and besides, Cher is way more embarrassing than Kelly Clarkson.
I talk to my dog. A LOT.
I talk to my fish, too.
Once I tried to teach myself the Oops, I Did it Again dance.
I obsessively check my spelling, even in e-mails or IM to my friends. I'm horrified when I see I've spelled something wrong. I blame it on 4th grade, when Mrs. Castrejon put us in Spelling groups and the group that had the highest cumulative spelling grade at the end of the quarter got to go out to dinner with her and her husband. At the GROUND ROUND. Talk about pressure.
Sometimes I worry excessively that I'm insane, but then I think that insane people never worry about being insane, they just ARE, so that's when I stop worrying. Wait. Does that mean I'm insane?
When I'm bored, I alphabetize my CDs and books. By genre.
When I read sad books, I sometimes have to put the book away for a while because I'm crying so hard I can no longer read the words.
Late at night, I watch scary movies by myself and willingly freak myself out, and as a result I creep around the house making sure no one is hiding in closets or the bathtub or something. You'd think I'd stop watching scary movies late at night, but you'd be wrong.
Every time a Cher song comes on the radio, I feel the need to sing along (loudly) doing my best Cher impersonation. Especially if that song is Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves. I also used to do a Kelly Clarkson impersonation, but lots of people have witnessed that, and besides, Cher is way more embarrassing than Kelly Clarkson.
I talk to my dog. A LOT.
I talk to my fish, too.
Once I tried to teach myself the Oops, I Did it Again dance.
I obsessively check my spelling, even in e-mails or IM to my friends. I'm horrified when I see I've spelled something wrong. I blame it on 4th grade, when Mrs. Castrejon put us in Spelling groups and the group that had the highest cumulative spelling grade at the end of the quarter got to go out to dinner with her and her husband. At the GROUND ROUND. Talk about pressure.
Sometimes I worry excessively that I'm insane, but then I think that insane people never worry about being insane, they just ARE, so that's when I stop worrying. Wait. Does that mean I'm insane?
When I'm bored, I alphabetize my CDs and books. By genre.
When I read sad books, I sometimes have to put the book away for a while because I'm crying so hard I can no longer read the words.
Late at night, I watch scary movies by myself and willingly freak myself out, and as a result I creep around the house making sure no one is hiding in closets or the bathtub or something. You'd think I'd stop watching scary movies late at night, but you'd be wrong.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Debate thoughts
I'm not going to talk much about the debate, other than I think that Kerry came out with a slight lead. I was looking at some of the polls on news websites and Kerry had a HUGE lead. I don't know how representative that is and it's still early. It's hard to call, though, because while Kerry was strong on foreign policy, Bush was more clear on his stance on abortion. I think they'll get more into abortion and stem cell research in the next debate; should be interesting.
The biggest thing that struck me was that Bush was excessively blinking again. What is that?! It's like he's got something stuck in his eye, or there's a gust of wind blowing in his face. He also winked at someone in the audience. Or at Charlie Gibson, I'm not sure.
Larry King has Ann Coulter on his show right now. Does anyone really take her seriously? She just said "jabberwocky." She talks like she's sucking on a lemon. Also, you know, SHE MAKES NO SENSE.
The biggest thing that struck me was that Bush was excessively blinking again. What is that?! It's like he's got something stuck in his eye, or there's a gust of wind blowing in his face. He also winked at someone in the audience. Or at Charlie Gibson, I'm not sure.
Larry King has Ann Coulter on his show right now. Does anyone really take her seriously? She just said "jabberwocky." She talks like she's sucking on a lemon. Also, you know, SHE MAKES NO SENSE.
Jennie has cholera, lose two days
I am completely useless today, unless your idea of usefulness is sitting around with a box of tissues blowing my nose every five minutes and then throwing my head back dramatically and groaning. I'm not sick, the sinus gods just hate me. I took a Claritin and am hoping I will be human again soon.
If I had lived back in the time of the Oregon Trail, I would so have been the first to die. There were no tissues, so I'd be the one staggering behind the wagon, red-eyed and puffy, until I fell over dead or a coyote ate me. I'd probably be the first to get typhoid fever, or cholera, or whatever other weird diseases were floating around. I have no sense of direction, so I'd either get lost while we were foraging for berries or I'd lead the wagon into the middle of a lake. I have no common sense, so I'd probably forget to pack something really important, like clothing or food, or I'd walk in front of an ox and it would step on or bite me. And cooking? I think we all know we can just forget about that.
Plus, with my record of hurting myself in stupid ways, I'd probably break my ankle stepping down from the wagon or shoot myself in the foot with a rifle. Yeah, I'd say it's a good thing I didn't have to live back then, because I don't think I would have lasted long.
There was something twisted about that game, wasn't there? I know it was supposed to be some educational tool, because we played it in all my classes in elementary school, but most of the time we were left unattended at the computer. Inevitably, we would pack too little food, set the pace as fast as possible, and see how many people made it to the end. Sick, deranged, twisted children we were.
And we would always name the characters after people in the class, so we could yell across the classroom, "Hey, Paul, you just drowned while we were crossing the river!" or "Paul, guess what? You have the flu and it looks BAD!"
Poor Paul. He never made it.
If I had lived back in the time of the Oregon Trail, I would so have been the first to die. There were no tissues, so I'd be the one staggering behind the wagon, red-eyed and puffy, until I fell over dead or a coyote ate me. I'd probably be the first to get typhoid fever, or cholera, or whatever other weird diseases were floating around. I have no sense of direction, so I'd either get lost while we were foraging for berries or I'd lead the wagon into the middle of a lake. I have no common sense, so I'd probably forget to pack something really important, like clothing or food, or I'd walk in front of an ox and it would step on or bite me. And cooking? I think we all know we can just forget about that.
Plus, with my record of hurting myself in stupid ways, I'd probably break my ankle stepping down from the wagon or shoot myself in the foot with a rifle. Yeah, I'd say it's a good thing I didn't have to live back then, because I don't think I would have lasted long.
There was something twisted about that game, wasn't there? I know it was supposed to be some educational tool, because we played it in all my classes in elementary school, but most of the time we were left unattended at the computer. Inevitably, we would pack too little food, set the pace as fast as possible, and see how many people made it to the end. Sick, deranged, twisted children we were.
And we would always name the characters after people in the class, so we could yell across the classroom, "Hey, Paul, you just drowned while we were crossing the river!" or "Paul, guess what? You have the flu and it looks BAD!"
Poor Paul. He never made it.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
no, YOU'RE fired
It was a bad night for reality TV. First of all, the men on Survivor are being really stupid. They keep voting out their strongest, most athletic players. Which, ok, I guess could work eventually, but it's a little early for that. Tonight they voted off Brady, the FBI Agent. I think I should admit right now that I'm not the most objective person on this subject, because I think Brady is one of the most attractive men in Survivor history, but even if he looked like a troll this was not a good move. I mean, he's in the FBI. You know he's gonna be good for something. He's the one who got that stupid, totem thing off the pig-greased pole in the premiere. He was the only one to catch any fish, even if they were tiny, little, baby fish. He climbed a gigantic tree. He's hot. And, most importantly, he wasn't annoying.
I really don't get what the men are doing, but it's not like the women on that island make a lot of sense, either.
Then, on The Apprentice, Trump fired Pamela. I mean, I get that it was kind of her fault that they lost, because she set the price too high. But they only lost by 10 dollars (and yeah, I get it, a loss is a loss) and the women worked together a hell of a lot better on this task than they did in their last few ones. There was hardly any bickering, and no arguing over "havoc-wreakers" or eye-rolling. Pamela took the two most annoying (and, in my opinion, most useless, and that's saying something with that team) members of her team to the boardroom. I hope Maria and Stacy are gone soon, because I don't know how much longer I can keep watching the show if they're still there, with all the complaining and the cattiness and the excessive blinking.
Whatever. I'm over it, thanks to Jamie Cullum, who is my new boyfriend, even if he doesn't know it.
I really don't get what the men are doing, but it's not like the women on that island make a lot of sense, either.
Then, on The Apprentice, Trump fired Pamela. I mean, I get that it was kind of her fault that they lost, because she set the price too high. But they only lost by 10 dollars (and yeah, I get it, a loss is a loss) and the women worked together a hell of a lot better on this task than they did in their last few ones. There was hardly any bickering, and no arguing over "havoc-wreakers" or eye-rolling. Pamela took the two most annoying (and, in my opinion, most useless, and that's saying something with that team) members of her team to the boardroom. I hope Maria and Stacy are gone soon, because I don't know how much longer I can keep watching the show if they're still there, with all the complaining and the cattiness and the excessive blinking.
Whatever. I'm over it, thanks to Jamie Cullum, who is my new boyfriend, even if he doesn't know it.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
dead-end relationship
My computer and I are not on good terms right now. We had a bad night, full of yelling and cursing and threats. Ok, so most of that was on my end, but my computer wasn't making things easy.
Things had been going well. Really well. Too well, apparently. I should have seen the warning signs. Getting kicked off the internet for no reason. Refusal to reboot. But I just thought those were normal, run-of-the-mill problems that anyone in a relationship with a computer might have.
Really, it was going great! I was so happy.
Then, last night, out of nowhere, my computer started acting crazier than Britney Spears. It kept kicking me offline and then immediately reconnecting me. There were crazy popups. Programs running that I've never seen before.
So I did what anyone would do. I restarted the computer.
Bad idea. I only angered it. When the computer turned back on, everything was bigger. The icons, the cursor, the error messages, everything looked swollen.
I thought it would be an easy fix. I'll just resize everything, no problem. But every time I tried, the screen would go black, an error message would pop up, and the screen would freeze.
Not only that, but the colors were all funky. It was on the wrong setting, but wouldn't let me fix it. Everything else was working fine, but the computer was impossible to use because the contrasting colors were giving me a headache, and I couldn't read anything without scrolling from side to side because everything was so big.
I removed a bunch of programs from the computer; programs I've never seen before and certainly didn't install. Some are still there, though, because when I tried to uninstall them there were all these errors and screen-freezes and more yelling and crying so I gave up.
I defraged (heh, that word is funny) the computer last night and this morning it let me fix the color. It also let me shrink everything back to normal size, but it's still a little wonky. I don't exactly know what to do about that, but since the computer is no longer throwing errors at me I don't really care.
I don't know how much longer this relationship is going to last. That was a pretty big fight last night, and there were some things said that neither of us can just forget.
I think the end is near.
Things had been going well. Really well. Too well, apparently. I should have seen the warning signs. Getting kicked off the internet for no reason. Refusal to reboot. But I just thought those were normal, run-of-the-mill problems that anyone in a relationship with a computer might have.
Really, it was going great! I was so happy.
Then, last night, out of nowhere, my computer started acting crazier than Britney Spears. It kept kicking me offline and then immediately reconnecting me. There were crazy popups. Programs running that I've never seen before.
So I did what anyone would do. I restarted the computer.
Bad idea. I only angered it. When the computer turned back on, everything was bigger. The icons, the cursor, the error messages, everything looked swollen.
I thought it would be an easy fix. I'll just resize everything, no problem. But every time I tried, the screen would go black, an error message would pop up, and the screen would freeze.
Not only that, but the colors were all funky. It was on the wrong setting, but wouldn't let me fix it. Everything else was working fine, but the computer was impossible to use because the contrasting colors were giving me a headache, and I couldn't read anything without scrolling from side to side because everything was so big.
I removed a bunch of programs from the computer; programs I've never seen before and certainly didn't install. Some are still there, though, because when I tried to uninstall them there were all these errors and screen-freezes and more yelling and crying so I gave up.
I defraged (heh, that word is funny) the computer last night and this morning it let me fix the color. It also let me shrink everything back to normal size, but it's still a little wonky. I don't exactly know what to do about that, but since the computer is no longer throwing errors at me I don't really care.
I don't know how much longer this relationship is going to last. That was a pretty big fight last night, and there were some things said that neither of us can just forget.
I think the end is near.
Monday, October 04, 2004
how to ruin a moment
I usually have nothing but complaints about the weather, but the last couple of days have been absolutely glorious. (complete sidenote, but whenever I hear/say the word "glorious" I always think of Old School, and Will Ferrell saying, "I saw Blue, and he was glooooorious," end sidenote.) A while ago, I wrote about the first really fall day of the year. It was windy, and gloomy, and it felt like it could rain at any moment.
Today is an absolutely beautiful autumn day. I don't know why, but it feels right to call the gloomy days, fall days, and the bright, gorgeous ones, autumn days. Just go with it.
I woke up this morning curled up with my comforter. A cool wind was moving the curtains above me. I jumped out of bed and shivered because, as usual, I'd torn my socks and pants off in my sleep. I extracted them from the sheet crumpled at the end of my bed and got dressed. The too-long sleeves of my shirt hung protectively over my hands.
I walk through the house, squinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and try not to fall over the dog who is hungering for attention. I make coffee, take a cup outside, and sit on the back porch with a book. I put the book aside for now, I'm still half in bed and not coherent enough to read. I stand up with my coffee and look at the sky. It's so bright and blue I have to look away, to the trees with the changing leaves, like firecrackers exploding slowly, gently.
The wind blows softly today, lifting my hair and waving sleep away. I can see birds trying to build nests in the porch cover. I want to let them make their temporary homes here, but I don't want my parents to tear the nests down later, so I tap the edge of the porch cover and the birds fly away, a flutter of wings.
One of the birds rests on a set of blinds, rolled up above the porch, lifts its tailfeather and gracefully shits on the table beside my book.
I start to giggle, and with a ladylike snort the moment is broken.
Today is an absolutely beautiful autumn day. I don't know why, but it feels right to call the gloomy days, fall days, and the bright, gorgeous ones, autumn days. Just go with it.
I woke up this morning curled up with my comforter. A cool wind was moving the curtains above me. I jumped out of bed and shivered because, as usual, I'd torn my socks and pants off in my sleep. I extracted them from the sheet crumpled at the end of my bed and got dressed. The too-long sleeves of my shirt hung protectively over my hands.
I walk through the house, squinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and try not to fall over the dog who is hungering for attention. I make coffee, take a cup outside, and sit on the back porch with a book. I put the book aside for now, I'm still half in bed and not coherent enough to read. I stand up with my coffee and look at the sky. It's so bright and blue I have to look away, to the trees with the changing leaves, like firecrackers exploding slowly, gently.
The wind blows softly today, lifting my hair and waving sleep away. I can see birds trying to build nests in the porch cover. I want to let them make their temporary homes here, but I don't want my parents to tear the nests down later, so I tap the edge of the porch cover and the birds fly away, a flutter of wings.
One of the birds rests on a set of blinds, rolled up above the porch, lifts its tailfeather and gracefully shits on the table beside my book.
I start to giggle, and with a ladylike snort the moment is broken.
IMPORTANT! LOOK! CAPS LOCK!
Have you registered to vote? Why not? What's wrong with you? If you don't vote, we can't be friends anymore. I'm sorry, that's just how it is.
Don't worry, you still have time to register. Not much, though. I can't believe you procrastinated this long. And I know a little bit about procrastination. Ok, I know a LOT about procrastination.
Quick! Go here and then vote on Nov. 2nd and we can still be friends.
If you don't vote, I don't want to hear you complaining about the president.
And I'm sure there will be some complaining to do, no matter who wins.
Don't worry, you still have time to register. Not much, though. I can't believe you procrastinated this long. And I know a little bit about procrastination. Ok, I know a LOT about procrastination.
Quick! Go here and then vote on Nov. 2nd and we can still be friends.
If you don't vote, I don't want to hear you complaining about the president.
And I'm sure there will be some complaining to do, no matter who wins.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
have it your way
Has anyone seen that Burger King commercial where the guy wakes up and there's someone wearing a giant, smiling, bearded, King face sitting next to and staring at him?
Does that freak anyone else out?
If I woke up and some freak wearing a big, plastic head was staring at me, I would scream and run away, not eat the delicious Croissan-wich he's offering.
I'd consider boycotting Burger King, but I'm still loving the Subservient Chicken.
Does that freak anyone else out?
If I woke up and some freak wearing a big, plastic head was staring at me, I would scream and run away, not eat the delicious Croissan-wich he's offering.
I'd consider boycotting Burger King, but I'm still loving the Subservient Chicken.
sunday funny
I got this from Laura. I'm posting it because I think it's funny. So laugh, already.
I am passing this on to you because it has definitely worked for me. We all could use a little calm.You probably don't want to do this right before church. I think they frown on that.
By following the simple advice I read in an article, I have finally found
inner peace. The article read: "The way to achieve inner peace is to
finish all the things you've started."
So I looked around the house to see all the things I started and hadn't
finished . . . and before leaving the house this morning I finished off a
bottle of red wine, a bottle of white wine, the Bailey's, Kahlua and
Wild Turkey, the Prozac, some valium, some cheesecake and a box of
chocolates. You have no idea how freakin good I feel.
You may pass this on to those you feel are in need of Inner Peace.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
this one time, at band camp . . .
Just kidding. I've never been to band camp. I wasn't even in band. In fact, the only time I've ever been to camp is when I was in Indian Princesses.
Last night, I went out with some friends to celebrate Nancy's birthday. Which is tomorrow. It was great to see everyone, and laugh about "remember that time when . . ." stories. I don't think I've laughed so much, well, since the last time we all got together.
We went to this place called Therapy Cafe, first, because we knew the drinks were a little expensive so we were only going to stay for one. The place had a very Sex and the City vibe, which was fun, and the drinks were really good. Then we went to the Dublin Pub, because we were told that it was basically McMurray's (home of most of our "remember that time when" stories) but bigger. And it was much more trusting of its customers, because we were given actual GLASSES. At McMurray's, we only got plastic cups, and last year they stopped serving beer in bottles. Apparently, college students cannot be trusted with glass.
It was awesome of Nancy's boyfriend to be our DD, too, because I'm sure driving 6 notoriously loud girls home after a night of drinking isn't at the top of his to do list. Add in an endless supply of karaoke-esque songs courtesy of Nancy's XM radio, and the obnoxious factor gets even higher.
When we got back to Nancy's apartment, we watched Mean Girls and debated on whether Lindsay Lohan has fake boobs.
The answer? A unanimous yes.
Last night, I went out with some friends to celebrate Nancy's birthday. Which is tomorrow. It was great to see everyone, and laugh about "remember that time when . . ." stories. I don't think I've laughed so much, well, since the last time we all got together.
We went to this place called Therapy Cafe, first, because we knew the drinks were a little expensive so we were only going to stay for one. The place had a very Sex and the City vibe, which was fun, and the drinks were really good. Then we went to the Dublin Pub, because we were told that it was basically McMurray's (home of most of our "remember that time when" stories) but bigger. And it was much more trusting of its customers, because we were given actual GLASSES. At McMurray's, we only got plastic cups, and last year they stopped serving beer in bottles. Apparently, college students cannot be trusted with glass.
It was awesome of Nancy's boyfriend to be our DD, too, because I'm sure driving 6 notoriously loud girls home after a night of drinking isn't at the top of his to do list. Add in an endless supply of karaoke-esque songs courtesy of Nancy's XM radio, and the obnoxious factor gets even higher.
When we got back to Nancy's apartment, we watched Mean Girls and debated on whether Lindsay Lohan has fake boobs.
The answer? A unanimous yes.
Friday, October 01, 2004
21st redux
Happy Birthday, Erin! Congratulations! Don't think of it as your 22nd, that's boring. Just celebrate your 21st again, only with less vomiting and passing out.
Hee.
On a completely different note, if it weren't for things like Febreze and the Swiffer Wet-Jet, I don't think I'd ever clean.
Hee.
On a completely different note, if it weren't for things like Febreze and the Swiffer Wet-Jet, I don't think I'd ever clean.
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