Monday, September 25, 2006

1. I just finished watching the coolest show EVER. I mean, EVER. It's called "Heroes". Great story, cool characters, really awesome music, intelligent humor and even some interesting twists. Plus, Greg Grunberg is going to be on it, and it also features quite possibly the hottest Indian man I've ever seen.

2. The birthday has come and gone. It was pretty shitty, with some nice parts mixed in...thanks Tim, Todd, Tabbi, Lisa and Kate! Thanks to the nephews and niece and sister...ESPECIALLY my nephew Samuel, whose birthday is three days before mine. I said, "So you're the big eleven now...that means you're getting old, but not as old as me!" To which he replied, "You're not old. The last time I, like, saw you, I was thinking you were, like, a teenager or something."

I'm not gonna lie...that was the best gift I received all day.

3. I was accosted by Mexicans at a gas station the other night. I think if I had been anywhere else besides a well-lit, well-occupied area, I would have been scared (two got out of their car and decided it would be a good idea to invade my personal space and start touching me in an overly familiar way.) Instead, this crazy, angry, militant person came out of me, and I--probably quite foolishly--decided it was an equally good idea to get back in their faces and tell them in a deadly tone to "Get back in your car...RIGHT...NOW." And, "DO...NOT...touch me." It helped that I was a good three inches taller than all of them...but I was seriously pissed. DON'T MESS WITH ME, PEOPLE.

You're scared now, aren't you? I'm scary.

4. I experienced a small personal victory recently. I won't share, because it's that small, but I did it! Hooray!

5. I'm exhausted. I'm not liking my early mornings so much. I'm going to bed...get back in your car RIGHT NOW.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Look closely. First, let me just say...some girls got it, some girls don't.

Second, it's the eve of my birthday. If you haven't gotten me something from the following list, I count you not as my friend:

1. A pony (I've been wanting this since I was five...somebody's gotta come through sometime, right?)
2. A car (pay mine off, we'll be friends for life)
3. Sweaters
4. Shoes
5. Pay for a few of my voice lessons...seriously, not that hard to please
6. Clothes for my dog (I'm one of those closet "I like my dog to be cuter than me" freaks...but just can't bring myself to spend that much money on my actual DOG.)
7. Sweaters, shoes (did I already mention this?)
8. A lobotomy (this would help me more than you could possibly guess.)
9. A rug (2x3 or so) to cover up the rug that my dog completely destroyed (don't tell my landlord)
10. Buy me dinner. Or a lobotomy. Or a boob job. I'm really not asking for that much.

I have a lot to be thankful for. I have nice hands and nails. I'm not one of those girls who has to worry about manicures all that often because my nails break. I have a great roommate. And a great sister.

And I can't think of much else because I'm pretty morose about actually turning the big two seven. Help.

Somebody better at least bake me a cake. Or a cupcake. Hell, a twinkie with a candle will do.

I'm gonna go to bed and cry now.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Grrr.... Time to vent.

1. You know what I despise? Going over with someone in detail why a proposal you're making is a really great idea, telling them all the reasons why it would be beneficial for them to do what you're proposing, and even laying out--kindly, mind you--why not accepting your proposal would be a bad idea for them; THEN having them do just the opposite, only for them to find out that you were right to begin with, and now they're up a shit creek with no paddle (which is a really gross concept, by the way. A "shit creek"...a small running river of poo, that you've for some reason have decided to take a leisurely row in...and now you've lost your paddle, you moron.) So now you're faced with the option of calling out the immature but highly satisfying "I told you so" or waiting patiently for them to beg for forgiveness, which you pretend not to give at first (a tad immature, yes, but better than "I told you so") but eventually graciously bestow, because hey, you want to be the better person (and reap all the benefits that you were telling said groveller of before.)

2. My dog rolled in a dead squirrel today.

3. Good intentions do not a good idea make. Good intentions mixed with habitual impatience just breeds disaster.

4. I've started my new job, which I love. I have good friends, whom I love. I have shelter, food, water, and a free workout facility, which I love. But all I can think of is turning twenty-seven--TWENTY-SEVEN--in nine days and how my entire life will be over. And I'm not being dramatic. I really think that'll be the drop off point for me. Three years until age that stretches out like a black abyss, that marks the slowing down of my metabolism and the speeding up of my age that ensures that I literally will have to work off that cookie, which I just joke about doing now. That says I have five good years to have kids, if I so desire, before they start marking "Advanced Maternal Age" on my hospital chart. I don't even WANT kids, but I still feel like time is running out. I'm afraid that at thirty, I'll make the slow decline into mom-jeans, Keds and stretch marks, and there will be no return.

Okay, perhaps I'm being a little dramatic, but I still feel a little panicky.

Ooo, I know what will help...presents!

And that's the end of my rant...for today.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

If I were a superhero, do you know what my super powers would be?

Allow me to tell you.

I would rid the world of "Support Our Troops" (or "Breast Cancer" or whatever the hell cause you have) ribbon magnets that are placed horizontally on cars rather than vertically. They look like deranged Jesus fish when they're not positioned properly, like they're taking a swim off the back of your car. I suppose people think they'll be easier to read if they're horizontal, but really, they just look ridiculous, and I want to make the world a better place by helping people not annoy me so much.

I would ensure that everyone spelled the contraction of "you" and "are" correctly. Civil war in Iraq? Bad. Homelessness in America? Wrong. Writing me a message to me saying "your pretty" instead of "you're pretty"? Just plain heinous and sick. I've obliterated sub-par evil doers for less.

I would also make sure that no one was able to sing "Phantom of the Opera" songs for community theatre auditions. Lex Luthor tried to make his own evil island, but it doesn't hold a candle to some pre-pubescent girl screaming "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" in her own key.

Finally, I would make several routinely overpriced things available to the masses...
1. Therapy ($120 an hour for me to pour my heart out, only so you can ask me more questions and nod thoughtfully?)
2. Quality cut and color. (Seriously, $200 to look good for six weeks? Four really, if you count regrowth...)
3. Good shoes and boots. (A heel with two straps of leather should not cost more than $35...I don't care what kind of animal it came from or who hand sewed it.)
4. Breast implants. (It should be a scholarship based on need.)

Dah, dah, dah DAH!!

Sunday, September 03, 2006

I'm a little offended that no one commented on my "Three" post, which I found to be:
1. Witty
2. Insightful, and perhaps even
3. Wise.

Whatever, people. Whatever.

So, I was browsing through myspace this morning and realized that I was only clicking on profiles that fell between the ages of 25 and oh, about 33. And it's not as though there aren't people older on myspace...and THEN I was hit with the horrible thought, "Will I still be updating my profile when I'm forty-five!?"

I feel like a big, lonely loser already.

Myspace is such an's a strange, strange world of first impressions. Some people are really good at this, and some people, not so good. (And sometimes, the people who seem to have it down are the ones that you meet in person later and scare the shit out of you.) So, in light of this, I've decided to make a few rules here for making a good first impression on myspace.

1. Please use a profile picture of some sort, be it a cartoon character, a symbol, or a really cheesy senior class picture. I am very shallow, I mean curious and would like to place some sort of mental image with the knowledge I'm gaining about you elsewhere. However, your picture should not include:
a.) You playing your guitar.
b.) You giving the world at large the finger.
c.) You with some girl whose face you've blacked out.
I wil not click on you on principle if you violate this.

2. SPELL CHECK. Remember high school English class? I don't want to look at your profile quote that's all mangled and misspelled. In fact, I've been known not to view an attractive person's profile because he has written something to the tune of, "leave the gun take the cannolly." It's really not that hard to a.) capitalize the first letter of your sentence, and b.) google the word to figure it out. I also don't want to have to take extra seconds reading your profile because you've used numbers and symbols instead of actual letters, or because you haven't taken the time to use punctuation of any sort.

3. Please, for the love of God, do not put that you "love to have fun" (see previous post.)

4. Do not ask to be my friend without accompanying your request with a message of some sort. I don't often walk up to a stranger in the mall and ask them to be my friend without either introducing myself or saying hello first. In fact, if I was just walking up to random people asking them to be my friend, and I was either playing a guitar, giving them the finger or with some person whose face I've blacked out, this would probably be grounds for them to punch me in the face. So please, just even a line that says "hi" is sufficient.

5. Do not proposition me in your messages. I will not be your friend. Apply this principle to the mall scenario...yes, that's right, it makes me want to punch you in the face.

6. Please put something in your "about me" section. Don't put "just ask" or "I am the bomb". I get that you believe that you are some sort of super amazing individual, but frankly, I'm just too lazy to send you a message and ask random, easy questions that you could just as easily have answered for me with minimal effort on your part.

And now that I've just wasted a good half hour writing about this when I could be at the mall asking people to be my friend...