Apparently, even though I've left DC behind, I currently live in a city that is also very good for attracting stars and musical artist types.
And they all love the Ann Arbor Borders.
Thursday, October 2: James Taylor - James Freaking Taylor - is going to be at the Borders on campus. I think that he's brilliant, but I don't know that I will attempt to attend this event. Aging hippies love him, and as the entire west side of the city is populated with exactly this sort of people, I can only imagine how that room will smell.
(Just kidding. I'm sure that aging hippies smell lovely. And not at all like pot. I mean, my landlord very rarely smells of it, after all. Very rarely.)
Plus, it reminds me of a story. A story! Once upon a time, a long time ago -- when I was in college, as a matter of fact... anyway! The story:
James Taylor travels to Michigan almost every year to perform at DTE, and my friend Diana's family went every summer. They packed a picnic, they made a day of it. And every year, before singing a specific song, he told a little anecdote that roughly went something like this: "People ask me the meaning behind my songs all of the time. But I don't remember when I wrote this one, or why, because I was so high."
That's... cool.
Thursday, October 9: Joshua Radin. I've been loving his music since I watched Catch and Release. It's mellow and slow, and he's been billed as the next Bob Dylan. I guess that can be a good or a bad thing depending on how you feel about Bob Dylan (see: Folk Singer's Lament). He just released a new cd and I will be acquiring it post haste.
Finally, after watching the drivel that was Knocked Up, I discovered Loudon Wainwright III. Turns out, he was at The Ark in Ann Arbor on Friday, September 26. I mean, this was a few days before I actually watched the movie and "discovered" him, so I wouldn't have gone anyway, but really. That is cool.
All I need now is a Domestic Problems show at the Blind Pig.
HOLY SHIT. I just looked up the link to the Blind Pig and who is playing there on October 12? JOSHUA FUCKING RADIN.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Hey, ATM? Shut Up.
About a month ago, I found this in the ATM:
1. No, I didn't alter it.2. The guy who left it was just ahead of me at the drive-thru. He drove a Dodge Stratus. (Hee. No, he didn't. He drove a Honda Accord. Of course.)
3. Who the shit has that much money in a checking account? I know nothing about finances, but even I know not to keep that much cash in a low-interest account.
4. Was it left on purpose? Did the person who left it behind want someone else to salivate at the thought of having that much money?
5. Do I have to wonder where I stand in the classic debate of haves vs. have-nots?
Nope. But at least I don't drive an Accord.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Knocked Out
I finally watched Knocked Up.
Hmmm. Overrated.
Throughout the entire movie, I spent my time wondering if it was going to end any time soon, oh my God. It was... sort of funny at parts. And I smiled a few times!
Of course, PAUL RUDD. He saved it. (Sadly, he can't save everything. Have you seen The Ten? Uhhhhhhhhh... shudder.)
The plot of Knocked Up was a little cliched and obvious, but what movie about having a baby isn't cliched? Heigl was a bit of a shrew, but maybe that means that she's a super great actress because sometimes pregnant women get a little insane with the hormones. I wouldn't know. I have no children, per se. I just witnessed a mother with some spawn at the grocery store and thought about how much sleep I wouldn't get and totally understood when she yelled at her children to shut the hell up and to just let her think for the love of God. Which is good, because coincidentally, I was just about to yell at her children to shut the hell up, and it's not really my place to do that. I don't think.
The plot: Alison Scott (Heigl) gets a promotion at work, goes out to celebrate with her sister, Debbie (Leslie Mann, one of my lady crushes), and in a very booze-filled night, hooks up with Ben (Seth Rogan).
Pregnancy ensues. And tears.
Leslie Mann, be my girlfriend!
From there, the plot is so predictable that I could have taken a two hour nap and figured it out when I awoke to watch the rest of the goddamn movie. Seriously, it was waaaaaay too long. Additional storylines were okay, but could not be cut, in my opinion, because they involved Paul Rudd. And Paul Rudd is magic.
(You need to get Wet Hot American Summer to understand the brilliance of The Rudd. He's fantastic in every single thing he does, even shit-covered movies like The Ten, but in WHAS, his character absolutely kills me. "You taste like a burger. I don't like you anymore.")
Also, this was a netflix rental with additional scenes just added right on in, so maybe that's part of the reason it dragged. I just can't believe that a normal movie theater audience would sit pretty for 2.5 hours for... this. Unless they were hoping that another joke about pot was just around the corner, which would be understandable considering that those jokes occurred every other scene.
No, I've never smoked pot. Yes, I am a fucking square. I know.
Of course, Seth Rogan and Paul Rudd do go to a Cirque de Soleil show in Vegas hopped up on mushrooms, and their ensuing conversation is pure, unadulterated gold. Pretty much the most hilarious part of the entire movie, it lasts a few minutes, tops.
Bit parts that were kind of awesome: Kristin Wiig (SNL) as one of Alison's passive aggressive bosses; Alan Tudyk (Death at a Funeral) as her other, nicer boss; Harold Fucking Ramis as Ben's dad; and Joanna "Maggie Malone" Kerns as Alison's mother. All were brilliant, all were underused.
But one really good thing to come out of watching this mind-numbing movie: the music of Loudon Wainwright III. His song, "Grey in L.A." played over the closing credits, and I fell in love.
Hmmm. Overrated.
Throughout the entire movie, I spent my time wondering if it was going to end any time soon, oh my God. It was... sort of funny at parts. And I smiled a few times!
Of course, PAUL RUDD. He saved it. (Sadly, he can't save everything. Have you seen The Ten? Uhhhhhhhhh... shudder.)
The plot of Knocked Up was a little cliched and obvious, but what movie about having a baby isn't cliched? Heigl was a bit of a shrew, but maybe that means that she's a super great actress because sometimes pregnant women get a little insane with the hormones. I wouldn't know. I have no children, per se. I just witnessed a mother with some spawn at the grocery store and thought about how much sleep I wouldn't get and totally understood when she yelled at her children to shut the hell up and to just let her think for the love of God. Which is good, because coincidentally, I was just about to yell at her children to shut the hell up, and it's not really my place to do that. I don't think.
The plot: Alison Scott (Heigl) gets a promotion at work, goes out to celebrate with her sister, Debbie (Leslie Mann, one of my lady crushes), and in a very booze-filled night, hooks up with Ben (Seth Rogan).
Pregnancy ensues. And tears.
Leslie Mann, be my girlfriend!From there, the plot is so predictable that I could have taken a two hour nap and figured it out when I awoke to watch the rest of the goddamn movie. Seriously, it was waaaaaay too long. Additional storylines were okay, but could not be cut, in my opinion, because they involved Paul Rudd. And Paul Rudd is magic.
(You need to get Wet Hot American Summer to understand the brilliance of The Rudd. He's fantastic in every single thing he does, even shit-covered movies like The Ten, but in WHAS, his character absolutely kills me. "You taste like a burger. I don't like you anymore.")
Also, this was a netflix rental with additional scenes just added right on in, so maybe that's part of the reason it dragged. I just can't believe that a normal movie theater audience would sit pretty for 2.5 hours for... this. Unless they were hoping that another joke about pot was just around the corner, which would be understandable considering that those jokes occurred every other scene.
No, I've never smoked pot. Yes, I am a fucking square. I know.
Of course, Seth Rogan and Paul Rudd do go to a Cirque de Soleil show in Vegas hopped up on mushrooms, and their ensuing conversation is pure, unadulterated gold. Pretty much the most hilarious part of the entire movie, it lasts a few minutes, tops.
Bit parts that were kind of awesome: Kristin Wiig (SNL) as one of Alison's passive aggressive bosses; Alan Tudyk (Death at a Funeral) as her other, nicer boss; Harold Fucking Ramis as Ben's dad; and Joanna "Maggie Malone" Kerns as Alison's mother. All were brilliant, all were underused.
But one really good thing to come out of watching this mind-numbing movie: the music of Loudon Wainwright III. His song, "Grey in L.A." played over the closing credits, and I fell in love.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
A.R. Awesome
The Lady teaches fifth grade. She has done this thankless job for years. (Seriously, teachers are some of the most under-appreciated, underpaid working people in the world)
Her fifth graders are lucky little bastards, let me tell you this right now. And not just because they have her as a teacher. They have this awesome, totally jealousy-inducing reading program: Accelerated Reader.
Basically, there is no standard reading curriculum. The kids read books that are rated according to reading level and then they take an online test. Higher-level readers are not held back and lower-level readers are given time to grow.
When I was in elementary school, I was reading ahead of my grade level. I would get to go to an upper-level class for reading each day, which was awesome, but also extremely intimidating. By the time I was in sixth grade, there was no where for me to go, so I had to slum it with kids my own age. Anyway, during one of these classroom-hopping excursions, I read the most amazing short story ever written:
"Hannah is a Palindrome." Palindrome. Isn't that the best fucking word you've ever heard? It's almost as awesome as onomatopoeia, which is awesome both in sound and in meaning.
Hannah's teacher makes an example of her by writing that exact line on the chalkboard. She then gets called down to the office and Hannah starts feeling the wrath of her mean jerk classmates. So she takes the initiative to look up "palindrome" in the dictionary, has a lightbulb moment, and puts the jerkiest boy, Otto, in his place by scrolling, "Otto is a palindrome" on the board.
HA. Suck it, Otto!
Finding palindromes became my new obsession, and I still do it to this day. I LOVE IT when words or even numbers are palindromes. IT MAKES ME HAPPY. If a car in front of me has a license plate that includes a palindrome, it makes my fucking day.
But seriously, why do I remember that story? I read it when I was in second grade. Also, I recall that the book was red. And it might have had a picture of treasure on the cover. Because reading is like discovering buried gold. Honestly. My memory scares me sometimes, especially when I am more than able to annoy my Mike by retelling the same story over and over and over again with absolutely no recollection of him finishing the damn story for me the last time.
Her fifth graders are lucky little bastards, let me tell you this right now. And not just because they have her as a teacher. They have this awesome, totally jealousy-inducing reading program: Accelerated Reader.
Basically, there is no standard reading curriculum. The kids read books that are rated according to reading level and then they take an online test. Higher-level readers are not held back and lower-level readers are given time to grow.
When I was in elementary school, I was reading ahead of my grade level. I would get to go to an upper-level class for reading each day, which was awesome, but also extremely intimidating. By the time I was in sixth grade, there was no where for me to go, so I had to slum it with kids my own age. Anyway, during one of these classroom-hopping excursions, I read the most amazing short story ever written:
"Hannah is a Palindrome." Palindrome. Isn't that the best fucking word you've ever heard? It's almost as awesome as onomatopoeia, which is awesome both in sound and in meaning.
Hannah's teacher makes an example of her by writing that exact line on the chalkboard. She then gets called down to the office and Hannah starts feeling the wrath of her mean jerk classmates. So she takes the initiative to look up "palindrome" in the dictionary, has a lightbulb moment, and puts the jerkiest boy, Otto, in his place by scrolling, "Otto is a palindrome" on the board.
HA. Suck it, Otto!
Finding palindromes became my new obsession, and I still do it to this day. I LOVE IT when words or even numbers are palindromes. IT MAKES ME HAPPY. If a car in front of me has a license plate that includes a palindrome, it makes my fucking day.
But seriously, why do I remember that story? I read it when I was in second grade. Also, I recall that the book was red. And it might have had a picture of treasure on the cover. Because reading is like discovering buried gold. Honestly. My memory scares me sometimes, especially when I am more than able to annoy my Mike by retelling the same story over and over and over again with absolutely no recollection of him finishing the damn story for me the last time.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Mr. Wizard
How many of you watched Mr. Wizard's World? He was the Bill Nye of the eighties, and super awesome. There was no problem he couldn't solve! Plus, he looked like the poor man's Patrick Stewart, so he had that going for him.
"No, Billy, you're a retard. Sigh. Try again."
I think that it was on Nickelodeon, but it might have been PBS for all I know. I don't think that we had cable at the time, so perhaps PBS is the correct choice.
ANYWAY, there are two experiments that stick in my brain. The first was a glass filled with ice. He asked the kid - there was always a kid to learn from the experiments - to fill the glass of ice with water. All the way to the top! And then he asked, "Now, when the ice melts, what will happen?" And the retard kid answered, "It'll spill!" And I was at home, five years old, screaming at the television, "NO IT WON'T, STUPIDHEAD!" And I was right. A know-it-all bitch from the very beginning.
The second experiment involved a girl doing a headstand against the fridge and Mr. Wizard was going to have her eat pieces of apple while she remained upside-down. She was SO CONVINCED that there was no way she'd be able to swallow the apple in that position. But, of course, she should have listened to wizened Mr. Wizard, shouldn't she have?
For those of you not familiar with my brain, I actually do have a point. There's been a goldfinch on the bird feeder for the better part of an hour. He's perched on the top perch, pecking the feeder upside-down. Why? If the dipshit would flit on down to the bottom perch, he wouldn't have to put in so much effort for his meal.
And I immediately thought of Mr. Wizard. Way to go, science education. One point for you.
It's a good thing that I didn't really watch after school specials, because I'm sure all manner of things would lead me back to those. I learned it from watching you! (Or was that a commercial? I don't care.)
"No, Billy, you're a retard. Sigh. Try again."I think that it was on Nickelodeon, but it might have been PBS for all I know. I don't think that we had cable at the time, so perhaps PBS is the correct choice.
ANYWAY, there are two experiments that stick in my brain. The first was a glass filled with ice. He asked the kid - there was always a kid to learn from the experiments - to fill the glass of ice with water. All the way to the top! And then he asked, "Now, when the ice melts, what will happen?" And the retard kid answered, "It'll spill!" And I was at home, five years old, screaming at the television, "NO IT WON'T, STUPIDHEAD!" And I was right. A know-it-all bitch from the very beginning.
The second experiment involved a girl doing a headstand against the fridge and Mr. Wizard was going to have her eat pieces of apple while she remained upside-down. She was SO CONVINCED that there was no way she'd be able to swallow the apple in that position. But, of course, she should have listened to wizened Mr. Wizard, shouldn't she have?
For those of you not familiar with my brain, I actually do have a point. There's been a goldfinch on the bird feeder for the better part of an hour. He's perched on the top perch, pecking the feeder upside-down. Why? If the dipshit would flit on down to the bottom perch, he wouldn't have to put in so much effort for his meal.
And I immediately thought of Mr. Wizard. Way to go, science education. One point for you.
It's a good thing that I didn't really watch after school specials, because I'm sure all manner of things would lead me back to those. I learned it from watching you! (Or was that a commercial? I don't care.)
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Emmy Awards Pre-Show Commentary - Now With Fewer Italics!
updated 7:59 p.m.
I'm done.
Lastly, If Alec Baldwin doesn't win best actor in a comedy, my tv is taking flight.
Kthnxbye!
updated 7:55 p.m.
Is it over yet? I can't feel my legs.
updated 7:53 p.m.
Christina Applegate is amazing. That is all.
updated 7:47 p.m.
Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson. Meh. (GOB: "Today I gotta stand next to her like I'm Rita Wilson.") Oh hell, she's telling people to register to vote. That's great, but how many times do we have to let the stars know? WE DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT YOU THINK. So stop shoving your politics down our collective throats! If we want to fucking vote, we will fucking vote!
God.
updated 7:38 p.m.
Sean Piffy Poofy Diddily Doodly Combs. Yawn.
The Giuliana bitch just stole some poor sap's acceptance speech from him and read it on air. What a fucking HOOR. No idea who he was, but still, he was nominated for something or other.
Conan! Love!
Holy shit on toast! Jean Smart looks smoking hot. She no longer looks like this:
Not that there's anything wrong with that. She's sleeker now. And less purply. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.
updated 7:26 p.m.
Seacrest just had to pretend that he liked it when Julia Louis-Dreyfus kissed him. Un! Comfortable!
Oh good, an explanation of the horrifying mermaid dress (Vanessa Williams pulls it off, I suppose, for no other reason than because she is Vanessa Williams). Thank you, Jay Manuel! I was in the other room and I totally didn't think you were Giuliana when I first heard you speak!
updated 7:21 p.m.
Oh, holy sparkly bow dress, Eva Longoria Parker! You are an adorable, diminutive woman, so why do you insist on wearing something that makes you look like that? YOU DON'T LOOK GOOD. Your husband/arm candy is pretty, though.
God, Seacrest is almost palatable next to this Giuliana freak.
Oh... kay. E! has a "stiletto cam." Which... do we really need another reason to covet the Hollywood ignorati? They can afford Jimmy Choos and I CANNOT. But it gave us a shot of David Boreanaz's socks, so... there's that.
updated 7:10 p.m.
I took a little break to find some food and caught this exchange:
Giuliana Dipshit Rancic: "What's your most hated body part?"
Nicollette Sheridan: "That's a horrible question. I'm not going to answer that." And she left the interview.
Ha!
updated 7:00 p.m.
There is still an hour of this to go. What is wrong with me? Why did I think this would be a good idea? I wonder if there are any Cheerios left...?
updated 6:51 p.m.
Neil Patrick Harris is amazing. (Read this interview if you have a chance.) Oooh, they just showed his gorgeous date on camera. I'm sure they'll get fined for that by the standards board. Acknowledging alternate lifestyles is worse than Janet Jackson's nip.
Tina Fey is gorgeous and I love her and she cracks me up. GO 30 ROCK, GO!
updated 6:48 p.m.
I just muted the television and cried for a few minutes. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just hungry.
I did see Marcia Cross humoring Seacrest's idiocy, but the mute button was a good choice. Wow, though. That woman could show up in a car's floor mat and look amazing.
Steve Carell and Nancy Walls. Yay! My second favorite Hollywood couple (behind Amy Poehler and Will Arnett - who was nominated for his recurring guest role on 30 Rock, so I'm hoping upon hope that they will be there)!
updated 6:33 p.m.
Thanks to the idiots of E!, Tracy Morgan/Jordan of 30 Rock doesn't get to talk about his show, he gets to talk about the people he wants to see on the Red Carpet.
The answer? Oprah. It's always Oprah.
Seriously, Tracy Morgan is hilarious, and THAT'S what they ask him about? This is where I would stab myself in the aorta if I could find something sharp enough.
THERE'S JIM. John Krasinski, sorry. He's wearing Prada. Hot. He seriously wants to punch Seacrest in the ovaries. As do I.
updated 6:28 p.m.
JENNA FISCHER I LOVE YOU! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MARRY JIM IF HE EVER GETS THE BALLS AND ACTUALLY ASKS YOU!
Sorry.
Ryan is now talking to Jenna in the third person. As if she is not STANDING DIRECTLY NEXT TO HIM. Why is he such a tool?
Ooooooh, Mariska! Yay, pretty!
Who is this Jay Manuel, um... fellow... and why do we care what he thinks? Oh, he's on America's Next Top Model. Quality. Ha, he basically just said that he's scared of Tyra Banks. Well, who isn't?
updated 6:12 p.m.
Poor Heidi Klum Seal. Why on earth should she be forced to stand next to these tools and share hosting duties all night? Then again, she's forced to sit next to a tangerine-tinted buffoon every night on Project Runway, so I suppose this isn't too much of a departure for her.
(Actually, the game plan for this year's telecast, as evidenced in the tvguide link up there yonder, sounds pretty cool. I can't wait to hear Josh Groban sing part of the Friends theme. Weren't The Rembrants available?)
Oh my bleeding fucking ears. Giuliana I-married-the-first-season-winner-from-The-Apprentice DePandi-Rancic just asked Ryan Seacrest if he was planning on thanking his parents in any form of acceptance speech (apparently he's nominated for something other than being completely annoying?) and they starting talking about him being conceived and my ears asploded.
Oh fuck, this Giuliana sloot is trying my patience.
updated 5:52 p.m.
Okay, I have now tuned to E!, even though I have immediately started to regret this decision. Do I really care about this? Do I really want to waste the night this way?
Meh, why not? I will be taking breaks for anything food related. Obviously.
They're back from commercial and fawning over some blond ho from Lost. Of which I do not watch. "You look great, girl." Really? I think that she looks drawn and tired. Maybe get some fucking sleep before going to the goddamned Emmy Awards? Currently, they're talking about Matthew Fox skinny dipping. Now, that is something I could wrap my mind around.
Oh, sweet, merciful commercial! Thank you! Thank you Jebus!
I have located an image of the mermaid dress, as worn by that Grey's Anatomy bitch:
I don't watch the Grey's Anatomy show, so I don't know if she's really a heinous bitchrag in real life or if that's just her character or what. But the interwebs say that she is hell-bent on incurring wrath with every single word she says aloud, so I BELIEVE IT. Coincidentally, I believe just about anything on the interwebs, including the audacious idea that lavender is a plant as well as a color, for which my boyfriend has me thinking I am crazy. Because he argued with me for ten minutes that lavender was not indeed a plant just to piss me off because there is NO FUCKING WAY that he doesn't know that lavender is a plant. And when I said that I would look it up online and show him that he was wrong, he gave me the, "Right, because everything on the internet is correct" excuse and I just about lost my shit.
Maybe I need a nap before the blessed awards begin.
Show me the dresses! Show me the GREAT EMMY DRESS OF 2008! Last year was all about the fish-tail or mermaid tail or whatever the fuck E! and several bloggers called it. When I hear "mermaid dress," however, all I can think about is Donna Martin wearing the mermaid costume to a Beverly Hills Halloween party (and bitchface Kelly Taylor wore a slut-tastic witch costume and got almost-raped and then taught us all a valuable lesson that dressing like a HOOR is not reason to be rewarded with evil).
I am super pumped for the Emmy Awards this year, just because I want 30 Rock to kick some serious ass and earn the accolades it deserves.
Also, I love the clothes.
So I'll be offering bitchy commentary starting with the pre-awards extravaganzas!
See you later!
I'm done.
Lastly, If Alec Baldwin doesn't win best actor in a comedy, my tv is taking flight.
Kthnxbye!
updated 7:55 p.m.
Is it over yet? I can't feel my legs.
updated 7:53 p.m.
Christina Applegate is amazing. That is all.
updated 7:47 p.m.
Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson. Meh. (GOB: "Today I gotta stand next to her like I'm Rita Wilson.") Oh hell, she's telling people to register to vote. That's great, but how many times do we have to let the stars know? WE DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT YOU THINK. So stop shoving your politics down our collective throats! If we want to fucking vote, we will fucking vote!
God.
updated 7:38 p.m.
Sean Piffy Poofy Diddily Doodly Combs. Yawn.
The Giuliana bitch just stole some poor sap's acceptance speech from him and read it on air. What a fucking HOOR. No idea who he was, but still, he was nominated for something or other.
Conan! Love!
Holy shit on toast! Jean Smart looks smoking hot. She no longer looks like this:
Not that there's anything wrong with that. She's sleeker now. And less purply. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.updated 7:26 p.m.
Seacrest just had to pretend that he liked it when Julia Louis-Dreyfus kissed him. Un! Comfortable!
Oh good, an explanation of the horrifying mermaid dress (Vanessa Williams pulls it off, I suppose, for no other reason than because she is Vanessa Williams). Thank you, Jay Manuel! I was in the other room and I totally didn't think you were Giuliana when I first heard you speak!
updated 7:21 p.m.
Oh, holy sparkly bow dress, Eva Longoria Parker! You are an adorable, diminutive woman, so why do you insist on wearing something that makes you look like that? YOU DON'T LOOK GOOD. Your husband/arm candy is pretty, though.
God, Seacrest is almost palatable next to this Giuliana freak.
Oh... kay. E! has a "stiletto cam." Which... do we really need another reason to covet the Hollywood ignorati? They can afford Jimmy Choos and I CANNOT. But it gave us a shot of David Boreanaz's socks, so... there's that.
updated 7:10 p.m.
I took a little break to find some food and caught this exchange:
Giuliana Dipshit Rancic: "What's your most hated body part?"
Nicollette Sheridan: "That's a horrible question. I'm not going to answer that." And she left the interview.
Ha!
updated 7:00 p.m.
There is still an hour of this to go. What is wrong with me? Why did I think this would be a good idea? I wonder if there are any Cheerios left...?
updated 6:51 p.m.
Neil Patrick Harris is amazing. (Read this interview if you have a chance.) Oooh, they just showed his gorgeous date on camera. I'm sure they'll get fined for that by the standards board. Acknowledging alternate lifestyles is worse than Janet Jackson's nip.
Tina Fey is gorgeous and I love her and she cracks me up. GO 30 ROCK, GO!
updated 6:48 p.m.
I just muted the television and cried for a few minutes. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just hungry.
I did see Marcia Cross humoring Seacrest's idiocy, but the mute button was a good choice. Wow, though. That woman could show up in a car's floor mat and look amazing.
Steve Carell and Nancy Walls. Yay! My second favorite Hollywood couple (behind Amy Poehler and Will Arnett - who was nominated for his recurring guest role on 30 Rock, so I'm hoping upon hope that they will be there)!
updated 6:33 p.m.
Thanks to the idiots of E!, Tracy Morgan/Jordan of 30 Rock doesn't get to talk about his show, he gets to talk about the people he wants to see on the Red Carpet.
The answer? Oprah. It's always Oprah.
Seriously, Tracy Morgan is hilarious, and THAT'S what they ask him about? This is where I would stab myself in the aorta if I could find something sharp enough.
THERE'S JIM. John Krasinski, sorry. He's wearing Prada. Hot. He seriously wants to punch Seacrest in the ovaries. As do I.
updated 6:28 p.m.
JENNA FISCHER I LOVE YOU! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MARRY JIM IF HE EVER GETS THE BALLS AND ACTUALLY ASKS YOU!
Sorry.
Ryan is now talking to Jenna in the third person. As if she is not STANDING DIRECTLY NEXT TO HIM. Why is he such a tool?
Ooooooh, Mariska! Yay, pretty!
Who is this Jay Manuel, um... fellow... and why do we care what he thinks? Oh, he's on America's Next Top Model. Quality. Ha, he basically just said that he's scared of Tyra Banks. Well, who isn't?
updated 6:12 p.m.
Poor Heidi Klum Seal. Why on earth should she be forced to stand next to these tools and share hosting duties all night? Then again, she's forced to sit next to a tangerine-tinted buffoon every night on Project Runway, so I suppose this isn't too much of a departure for her.
(Actually, the game plan for this year's telecast, as evidenced in the tvguide link up there yonder, sounds pretty cool. I can't wait to hear Josh Groban sing part of the Friends theme. Weren't The Rembrants available?)
Oh my bleeding fucking ears. Giuliana I-married-the-first-season-winner-from-The-Apprentice DePandi-Rancic just asked Ryan Seacrest if he was planning on thanking his parents in any form of acceptance speech (apparently he's nominated for something other than being completely annoying?) and they starting talking about him being conceived and my ears asploded.
Oh fuck, this Giuliana sloot is trying my patience.
updated 5:52 p.m.
Okay, I have now tuned to E!, even though I have immediately started to regret this decision. Do I really care about this? Do I really want to waste the night this way?
Meh, why not? I will be taking breaks for anything food related. Obviously.
They're back from commercial and fawning over some blond ho from Lost. Of which I do not watch. "You look great, girl." Really? I think that she looks drawn and tired. Maybe get some fucking sleep before going to the goddamned Emmy Awards? Currently, they're talking about Matthew Fox skinny dipping. Now, that is something I could wrap my mind around.
Oh, sweet, merciful commercial! Thank you! Thank you Jebus!
updated 4:57 p.m.
I don't watch the Grey's Anatomy show, so I don't know if she's really a heinous bitchrag in real life or if that's just her character or what. But the interwebs say that she is hell-bent on incurring wrath with every single word she says aloud, so I BELIEVE IT. Coincidentally, I believe just about anything on the interwebs, including the audacious idea that lavender is a plant as well as a color, for which my boyfriend has me thinking I am crazy. Because he argued with me for ten minutes that lavender was not indeed a plant just to piss me off because there is NO FUCKING WAY that he doesn't know that lavender is a plant. And when I said that I would look it up online and show him that he was wrong, he gave me the, "Right, because everything on the internet is correct" excuse and I just about lost my shit.Maybe I need a nap before the blessed awards begin.
updated 4:27 p.m.
Okay, It's 4:30 p.m. and I'm bored. Why can't these damn retard awards be on NOW? I have things to do later, like SLEEP, and the only television I've really watched lately has been college football and golf. So what I'm saying is, either broadcast some awesome Friends reruns or somehow get me away from the computer where I've been watching the fucking Twilight trailer over and over and over again.Show me the dresses! Show me the GREAT EMMY DRESS OF 2008! Last year was all about the fish-tail or mermaid tail or whatever the fuck E! and several bloggers called it. When I hear "mermaid dress," however, all I can think about is Donna Martin wearing the mermaid costume to a Beverly Hills Halloween party (and bitchface Kelly Taylor wore a slut-tastic witch costume and got almost-raped and then taught us all a valuable lesson that dressing like a HOOR is not reason to be rewarded with evil).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am super pumped for the Emmy Awards this year, just because I want 30 Rock to kick some serious ass and earn the accolades it deserves.
Also, I love the clothes.
So I'll be offering bitchy commentary starting with the pre-awards extravaganzas!
See you later!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Ten Years is Simply Not Long Enough
My mom was twenty-eight years old when I was born. I am twenty-eight now.
That kind of scares me - more than a little bit. I know that things are much different now, even just a few decades later, but... I can't even imagine having children - at least not at this point in my life. Well, I can, as my two nieces exhaust me and kick my ass every time I'm with them, but I know it's slightly different than having my own. And to that, I know the answer: I'm simply not ready.
Which brings me to the most recent blast from the past: My ten year high school reunion is coming up - it's planned for Thanksgiving weekend because apparently the organizers think that the majority of our high school class actually escaped the area and would rather use their family weekend to reconnect with their high school buds. First, I just don't see how they think people aren't still in the area, as so many, many people stuck around as a rule, but whatever. Second, I can think of about thirty-seven different things that I would rather be doing that weekend. And third, I just don't see the draw.
I really don't want to go - at all - but Kelly (she of the recently married) kinda sorta maybe wants to go and wants me to come along. And she thinks that I should bring Mike (whom I would bring in a heartbeat if he actually wanted to go, but do I want to put him through something like that? I really think that he would be the only reason I'd be able to get through the night, but I think that I care about him too much to force him there...).
I want to support Kel because she's my friend, but I just don't have much of a desire to spend money to reminisce about a time in my life that was angst-y and painful and filled with people that I would rather punch in the neck than ask about how their lives have been these last ten years.
Okay, that's a bit much. High school was fine. I really didn't have that much to complain about besides the normal teenaged issues. (I was in the marching band, so... I was admittedly a nerd. But I played the saxophone, so I was at least a little cooler than the flutists, I suppose. No offense to anyone who played the flute, but y'all were lame.) There were definitely people that made my life hell, and I hope that I wasn't someone else's nightmare, but I know that I easily could have been - I had a major attitude in high school. I have changed more than a little bit since then, and I'm sure that everyone else has changed as well. I'm sure that if I went to this reunion and spoke with the people that made me cry, they would be nice and pleasant.
But what if they're not?
I know that it's stupid to care what people think, but for my high school I was a bit of an anomaly. I went to college. I moved far, far away to Washington, D.C. I went to grad school. I made life choices that differ from that of many of my classmates.
I didn't get married and have 2.7 children by the time I was nineteen. I'm twenty-eight, and I'm not married. And that, more than anything else, will be the marker for how I am judged.
That's what I think, and I would like to hope that I am wrong. I do think that I am making a whole lot of assumptions here, and I probably sound like an elitist asshole looking down on my classmates because they didn't choose the same paths as me.
Why do I care what people think, anyway?
It's been stupidly said that high school years are the best of your life, but I don't see that. At all. At the time, everything seemed so fucking important - homecoming, the ACTs, relationships... High school was a necessary evil and while I made some life-long friendships, those have been maintained with care over the last ten years. They've required time and patience. It hasn't been easy, but they've all been worth the effort. Other friendships did fade away, but... it's not the end of the world!
Others consider college to be the best years ever, and I do admit that those times were totally rad. I had a great college experience, but I always felt myself looking ahead. I knew that there just had to be something... more. And I was right.
The best years of my life? Are now. I am happier than I have ever been, I have a job that I adore, and I am deeply in love with a wonderful man.
And I don't see that I should have to qualify that to anyone but myself.
That kind of scares me - more than a little bit. I know that things are much different now, even just a few decades later, but... I can't even imagine having children - at least not at this point in my life. Well, I can, as my two nieces exhaust me and kick my ass every time I'm with them, but I know it's slightly different than having my own. And to that, I know the answer: I'm simply not ready.
Which brings me to the most recent blast from the past: My ten year high school reunion is coming up - it's planned for Thanksgiving weekend because apparently the organizers think that the majority of our high school class actually escaped the area and would rather use their family weekend to reconnect with their high school buds. First, I just don't see how they think people aren't still in the area, as so many, many people stuck around as a rule, but whatever. Second, I can think of about thirty-seven different things that I would rather be doing that weekend. And third, I just don't see the draw.
I really don't want to go - at all - but Kelly (she of the recently married) kinda sorta maybe wants to go and wants me to come along. And she thinks that I should bring Mike (whom I would bring in a heartbeat if he actually wanted to go, but do I want to put him through something like that? I really think that he would be the only reason I'd be able to get through the night, but I think that I care about him too much to force him there...).
I want to support Kel because she's my friend, but I just don't have much of a desire to spend money to reminisce about a time in my life that was angst-y and painful and filled with people that I would rather punch in the neck than ask about how their lives have been these last ten years.
Okay, that's a bit much. High school was fine. I really didn't have that much to complain about besides the normal teenaged issues. (I was in the marching band, so... I was admittedly a nerd. But I played the saxophone, so I was at least a little cooler than the flutists, I suppose. No offense to anyone who played the flute, but y'all were lame.) There were definitely people that made my life hell, and I hope that I wasn't someone else's nightmare, but I know that I easily could have been - I had a major attitude in high school. I have changed more than a little bit since then, and I'm sure that everyone else has changed as well. I'm sure that if I went to this reunion and spoke with the people that made me cry, they would be nice and pleasant.
But what if they're not?
I know that it's stupid to care what people think, but for my high school I was a bit of an anomaly. I went to college. I moved far, far away to Washington, D.C. I went to grad school. I made life choices that differ from that of many of my classmates.
I didn't get married and have 2.7 children by the time I was nineteen. I'm twenty-eight, and I'm not married. And that, more than anything else, will be the marker for how I am judged.
That's what I think, and I would like to hope that I am wrong. I do think that I am making a whole lot of assumptions here, and I probably sound like an elitist asshole looking down on my classmates because they didn't choose the same paths as me.
Why do I care what people think, anyway?
It's been stupidly said that high school years are the best of your life, but I don't see that. At all. At the time, everything seemed so fucking important - homecoming, the ACTs, relationships... High school was a necessary evil and while I made some life-long friendships, those have been maintained with care over the last ten years. They've required time and patience. It hasn't been easy, but they've all been worth the effort. Other friendships did fade away, but... it's not the end of the world!
Others consider college to be the best years ever, and I do admit that those times were totally rad. I had a great college experience, but I always felt myself looking ahead. I knew that there just had to be something... more. And I was right.
The best years of my life? Are now. I am happier than I have ever been, I have a job that I adore, and I am deeply in love with a wonderful man.
And I don't see that I should have to qualify that to anyone but myself.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I Can't Stop Watching
A while back, Mike and I were watching weird videos we found on youtube. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, but there was a time in which we wondered whether the people who posted said videos were sick in the head or if we were the sick ones for enjoying them.
It was semi-philosophical, really.
And no, I won't be telling you how sick we are. Sure, it's probably not that bad on the twisted scale, as there are some sick fucks out there, but we did realize that we each have the brain of a twelve year old when watching dogs vomit makes us laugh like the deranged.
I know, I'll say it for you. GROSS.
But also? Hilarious.
Anyway, I've been watching this constantly since I saw it - I don't remember the commercials when they aired, but here you go. How to easily entertain me:
It was semi-philosophical, really.
And no, I won't be telling you how sick we are. Sure, it's probably not that bad on the twisted scale, as there are some sick fucks out there, but we did realize that we each have the brain of a twelve year old when watching dogs vomit makes us laugh like the deranged.
I know, I'll say it for you. GROSS.
But also? Hilarious.
Anyway, I've been watching this constantly since I saw it - I don't remember the commercials when they aired, but here you go. How to easily entertain me:
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Autumn?
It's right around the corner, I can feel it. I don't care if tomorrow's high is 75, it's almost time for fall!
Observe the view from my front door this morning:
No, I don't know why my landlord won't repaint the porch.
And THEN, it gets better!
There was a goldfinch at the bird feeder!
His colors are already muted for the season, but LOOK.
THERE HE IS.
Little fucker made an enormous mess outside, by the way.
Then, THEN, there is the prelude to my dinner tonight,
showcased on my coffee table with wedding flowers and candle:
I call this Still Life with Candle.
Let's get a close-up, shall we?
DELICIOUS.
I know that the presentation could be better, but I just got home from ballet and wanted to drop. So cut me some slack, yo.
Anyway, I don't think that the tomatoes have much to do with autumn's arrival, but PRETTY.
Observe the view from my front door this morning:
No, I don't know why my landlord won't repaint the porch.And THEN, it gets better!
There was a goldfinch at the bird feeder!
His colors are already muted for the season, but LOOK.
THERE HE IS.
Little fucker made an enormous mess outside, by the way.Then, THEN, there is the prelude to my dinner tonight,
showcased on my coffee table with wedding flowers and candle:
I call this Still Life with Candle.Let's get a close-up, shall we?
DELICIOUS.I know that the presentation could be better, but I just got home from ballet and wanted to drop. So cut me some slack, yo.
Anyway, I don't think that the tomatoes have much to do with autumn's arrival, but PRETTY.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Pottery Barn is a Big Bully and is Trying to Make Me Cry
Why, Pottery Barn?
Why do you have to have such beautiful things?
You know that I cannot afford to spend money on you, so why are you making my life so difficult?
Just LOOK at this:
Owls and birds? And I can SLEEP ON IT? It just doesn't seem fair that I cannot afford you.
I hate you.
No, I don't. I love you.
Why do you have to have such beautiful things?
You know that I cannot afford to spend money on you, so why are you making my life so difficult?
Just LOOK at this:
Owls and birds? And I can SLEEP ON IT? It just doesn't seem fair that I cannot afford you.I hate you.
No, I don't. I love you.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Shoe High
I am high. This must be how normal-footed people feel EVERY TIME they shop.
I went on a little shoe-shopping bender, what with Nordstrom's sale and the fact that they actually carry size-four shoes.
Feast your eyes on my new children!
Little red flats
Flat black boots
Silver heels
Pink heels! With ruffly bow!
Yes, I think that my shoe collection benefited greatly
from some additional color.
I went on a little shoe-shopping bender, what with Nordstrom's sale and the fact that they actually carry size-four shoes.
Feast your eyes on my new children!
Little red flats
Flat black boots
Silver heels
Pink heels! With ruffly bow!
Yes, I think that my shoe collection benefited greatlyfrom some additional color.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Congratulations!
Kelly & Brent
September 12, 2008
It was quite the week - work, work, evening event at work, wedding rehearsal, dinner, wedding!
It was quite the week - work, work, evening event at work, wedding rehearsal, dinner, wedding!Kelly and Brent met over three years ago at a bar in downtown Wyandotte, Michigan. After a month, they were inseparable.
I was honored to be asked to be a member of their wedding party, and man - do they know how to throw a party!
The wedding ceremony was held at St. Michael's Lutheran Church in Canton, Michigan, followed by a lovely reception at Plymouth Manor, in Plymouth, Michigan.
I don't know what else to say about Kelly and Brent. Kelly's been my friend since the summer of 1994, and even when she moved to Indiana for a spell and I headed to DC, she was never more than a phone call away. Brent, well, he's made her happier than I've ever known her to be. They are wonderful people and it's obvious to anyone that they are meant for each other.
(wipes away tears)
(I only cried a little during the ceremony, I swear.)
Here's a sampling of my pictures from their big day!
The bridesmaid's bouquets were amazing.
Heather & Kelly
I love my amazing boyfriend.He made the night for me!
Congratulations, Brent and Kelly!
See all pictures here.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
21
21
I liked it a little. Mike did not. Not even a little.
Perhaps it was because he read the book and told me that the only thing that the movie got right was that they played blackjack in Vegas.
Perhaps he thought that Kate Bosworth was only there to look pretty. Which she really... didn't. What a waste.
Perhaps he thought that Kevin Spacey was a fine actor and that he's either looking to start a business and needed additional startup funds or that he planned on donating his paycheck to victims of gambling addiction. Because this role wasn't good enough for him.
Perhaps I am the one to think those things, but whatever.
Anyway, the plot of 21 is pretty light: Poor kid is brilliant. Poor kid is accepted to Harvard Medical School but cannot afford it. MIT Professor recruits him to play blackjack and count cards and rip off "Vegas." Poor kid screws up and loses lots of professor's money, is returned in kind. Violence ensues.
But... does anyone get beat up in back rooms in Vegas anymore?
Anyway, it's worth a Netflix rental if you'd like to see Kevin Spacey chewing the scenery or Kate Bosworth pressed up against a Vegas hotel window. Otherwise, it's semi-entertaining, I suppose. But given the option, I'd rent something else.
I liked it a little. Mike did not. Not even a little.
Perhaps it was because he read the book and told me that the only thing that the movie got right was that they played blackjack in Vegas.
Perhaps he thought that Kate Bosworth was only there to look pretty. Which she really... didn't. What a waste.
Perhaps he thought that Kevin Spacey was a fine actor and that he's either looking to start a business and needed additional startup funds or that he planned on donating his paycheck to victims of gambling addiction. Because this role wasn't good enough for him.
Perhaps I am the one to think those things, but whatever.
Anyway, the plot of 21 is pretty light: Poor kid is brilliant. Poor kid is accepted to Harvard Medical School but cannot afford it. MIT Professor recruits him to play blackjack and count cards and rip off "Vegas." Poor kid screws up and loses lots of professor's money, is returned in kind. Violence ensues.
But... does anyone get beat up in back rooms in Vegas anymore?
Anyway, it's worth a Netflix rental if you'd like to see Kevin Spacey chewing the scenery or Kate Bosworth pressed up against a Vegas hotel window. Otherwise, it's semi-entertaining, I suppose. But given the option, I'd rent something else.
There May Be Something Wrong With Me...
Even though I was paralyzed for a week by the Twilight series, I still found time to do interesting things while at work!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
When is it Technically an Overshare?
This weekend, I received catalogs for both a Pottery Barn AND a West Elm. Am I the only one who grins devilishly and plans to read them in bed? Like a nice... nightcap? Ooooooh, five-hundred thread count sheets, just like that. Modular bookcases, I like that. Harder! White upholstered sofa? YES YES YES. YES!
Um...
Is this like... porn for anyone else?
Right.
Me either.
Um...
Is this like... porn for anyone else?
Right.
Me either.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Perhaps an Intervention?
Oh hello!
Where have I been?
Well...
Hallie and Sarah don't think that I should tell you, because they both think that I am batshit crazy. And they're probably right.
I've been a little obsessed with the Twilight series. I read all four books PLUS the first twelve chapters of the next book on the author's website. In a week.
I know that this series has gotten a ton of crap for being "anti-feminist," but I honestly don't care. They are some of the most romantic books that I've ever read, and frankly? Sometimes I think that it's okay to get lost in a book where love rules supreme and nothing can stop happiness - even if it does mean that the woman needs a man to rescue her and be her everything. What? That's romantic!
(Feminists everywhere growl in anger.)
In this case, he's not so much a "man" as a "vampire," but whatever. DEAL WITH IT.
And since Meyer has kind of redefined the genre of vampire tales, making up her own myths (like why her vampires can be out and about during the day) and she's also pissed off the vampire snobs and Anne Rice purists, etc.
I would go into the ridiculous description of the series that Hallie and Sarah had to hear from me at lunch today, after which they both stared at me like I had fallen, hard, off of the tree of sanity, but since that's what prompted Sarah to ask, "And that's why you haven't been writing?" and Hallie to say, "If you honestly want me to read these someday, you're going to have to stop talking. Because you're making it worse," then perhaps I shall spare you.
The thing is, I just CANNOT describe why these books have taken hold of me. I honestly can't. I shouldn't like them. I shouldn't be drawn to them! But I am, and I'm over it. And while I won't force them on anyone, I certainly won't get all uppity about them as many people in the internets community have. I'd link to them, but they're mean and give away the plot.
The first movie, Twilight, will be released in theaters on November 21, and poor Mike - my poor, sweet, loving Mike - will be accompanying me. I know that I said I would never drag my sweet boyfriend to a chick flick, but he's going. I want to see this with him. It's too romantic to see with my mom. (Sorry, Lady!) Plus, we would have been going to the theater anyway, as the 21st is when Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was to be released, so...
Just to show you the current state of my obsession, I will now post some pictures of what my apartment looked like last night. I have not done anything around the house in a week. It's bad. Warning: The following images contain horrible sights. If you enjoy things to be clean and more tidy than untidy, I suggest you skip past the pictures. Seriously.
Window Seat
Not that bad, I know, but I'm just easing you in.
And I wanted you all to see MY SEXY PINK SHOES.
And... ballet tights. They're clean, but... Sorry.
Living Room
The couch is covered in clean clothes I've yet to fold.
They were washed over a week ago.
The coffee table is housing my computer, cheerios,
and other assorted crap.
Dining Nookery
Harry Potter Scene It! and demented dinosaurs.
And more bags than anyone ever needs ever.
Workspace
Kitchen Island
Trader Joe's O's and my basil tree.
It won't stop growing.
Piece de resistance: Kitchen sink
I am seriously disgusting. I know.
(Mike's probably stopped reading by now.
He can't believe his girlfriend is so gross.)
If I wanted to gross you out entirely, I'd post a picture of the inside of my fridge. But I don't even want to see that, so consider yourselves lucky.
I've been lost in other series before, and I don't limit that description to books. Harry Potter aside, I also harbored an unhealthy obsession with watching every single episode of Gilmore Girls as well as Veronica Mars. I am now considering Buffy and Twin Peaks.
(What? I heard that Twin Peaks was awesome.)
Anyway, I told Hallie that the reason that I wasn't going to just hand her the first book, even though it is currently in my work bag, is because I started rereading it last night.
Hallie and Sarah are considering an intervention. I just thought that you should know.
Where have I been?
Well...
Hallie and Sarah don't think that I should tell you, because they both think that I am batshit crazy. And they're probably right.
I've been a little obsessed with the Twilight series. I read all four books PLUS the first twelve chapters of the next book on the author's website. In a week.
I know that this series has gotten a ton of crap for being "anti-feminist," but I honestly don't care. They are some of the most romantic books that I've ever read, and frankly? Sometimes I think that it's okay to get lost in a book where love rules supreme and nothing can stop happiness - even if it does mean that the woman needs a man to rescue her and be her everything. What? That's romantic!
(Feminists everywhere growl in anger.)
In this case, he's not so much a "man" as a "vampire," but whatever. DEAL WITH IT.
And since Meyer has kind of redefined the genre of vampire tales, making up her own myths (like why her vampires can be out and about during the day) and she's also pissed off the vampire snobs and Anne Rice purists, etc.
I would go into the ridiculous description of the series that Hallie and Sarah had to hear from me at lunch today, after which they both stared at me like I had fallen, hard, off of the tree of sanity, but since that's what prompted Sarah to ask, "And that's why you haven't been writing?" and Hallie to say, "If you honestly want me to read these someday, you're going to have to stop talking. Because you're making it worse," then perhaps I shall spare you.
The thing is, I just CANNOT describe why these books have taken hold of me. I honestly can't. I shouldn't like them. I shouldn't be drawn to them! But I am, and I'm over it. And while I won't force them on anyone, I certainly won't get all uppity about them as many people in the internets community have. I'd link to them, but they're mean and give away the plot.
The first movie, Twilight, will be released in theaters on November 21, and poor Mike - my poor, sweet, loving Mike - will be accompanying me. I know that I said I would never drag my sweet boyfriend to a chick flick, but he's going. I want to see this with him. It's too romantic to see with my mom. (Sorry, Lady!) Plus, we would have been going to the theater anyway, as the 21st is when Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was to be released, so...
Just to show you the current state of my obsession, I will now post some pictures of what my apartment looked like last night. I have not done anything around the house in a week. It's bad. Warning: The following images contain horrible sights. If you enjoy things to be clean and more tidy than untidy, I suggest you skip past the pictures. Seriously.
Window SeatNot that bad, I know, but I'm just easing you in.
And I wanted you all to see MY SEXY PINK SHOES.
And... ballet tights. They're clean, but... Sorry.
Living RoomThe couch is covered in clean clothes I've yet to fold.
They were washed over a week ago.
The coffee table is housing my computer, cheerios,
and other assorted crap.
Dining NookeryHarry Potter Scene It! and demented dinosaurs.
And more bags than anyone ever needs ever.
WorkspaceNot too horrible, I suppose. Just cluttered.
Kitchen IslandTrader Joe's O's and my basil tree.
It won't stop growing.
Piece de resistance: Kitchen sinkI am seriously disgusting. I know.
(Mike's probably stopped reading by now.
He can't believe his girlfriend is so gross.)
If I wanted to gross you out entirely, I'd post a picture of the inside of my fridge. But I don't even want to see that, so consider yourselves lucky.
I've been lost in other series before, and I don't limit that description to books. Harry Potter aside, I also harbored an unhealthy obsession with watching every single episode of Gilmore Girls as well as Veronica Mars. I am now considering Buffy and Twin Peaks.
(What? I heard that Twin Peaks was awesome.)
Anyway, I told Hallie that the reason that I wasn't going to just hand her the first book, even though it is currently in my work bag, is because I started rereading it last night.
Hallie and Sarah are considering an intervention. I just thought that you should know.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Soliloquy
You know, I really like the taste of dandelions.
They're sweet without being too sweet, you know?I also like corn.
Sammy always gets to it first, though.Sigh.
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