Friday, March 30, 2007


i promised myself i would write a blog today in celebration of finding a knock off and therefore affordable laptop battery charging cord. and yes, after two months of not being able to use my computer, i did awkwardly nuzzle my computer screen and start singing "endless love".
so in celebration of that beautiful (sad) moment (a new personal low), as well as the other mundanities (might be a made up word. might not) which make up the fabric of my life (my life is very much cotton), here's a bunch of fools pretending to be space invaders...

Thursday, March 22, 2007


uh oh.
exactly 13 minutes ago, my yearly ennui kicked in.

this calls for a cold compress, some diet coke, a new dvd from, and probably some airborne.

for good measure.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

my sister is amazing

it was back when i was 16 that i first began to scrapbook. i somehow molded my burgeoning love of taping pictures onto paper into a goal for the church youth program i was in. i'm not quite sure how i rationalized my scrapbooking as spiritual progression. i like to think i entitled it a poignant study of photographic geneology. the end reward of the six year "personal progress" program was a gold pendant with a girl in a flowy dress which i think symbolized her blossoming into womanhood. it was a very good and worthwhile program which i never technically finished because, much to my mother's chagrin, before i had my final blossomhood pendant interview i went away to college where i decided to focus completely on my new goal of, well, going on a date, while my mom chose to focus her via phone proddings on my lack of a high school diploma.
one of the first things i ever scrapbooked was a picture of my sister and i as youngsters- all bright eyed and tanned and looking as though we weren't constantly at each others throats as most siblings very close in age are want to be- and a sticker i'd found with the phrase "my sister is amazing" on it. and also a christmas related note carolyn had written to me that year (it had a picture of noah's ark with a wreath on it and it said, "this is noah's ark on christmas eve. you are my favorite sister. [heart] carolyn). my scrapbooking skillz are extremely limited.
it's flukish for me to remember a sticker i put on a scrapbook page almost 10 years ago without any reasoning past having the sticker and having the sister and there you have it. were it not for my continual quoting of the sticker, i would not remember. i used to quote it in a somewhat monotone voice whenever carolyn would show a natural deftness for drawing or dancing or singing or pianoing or getting 4.0's or doing anything i would then try to do with a very tangible lack of deftness.
while trying not to veer too much into the waxing sentimental, let me say carolyn continues with the natural deftness but has also developed into extremely kind and considerate person...
my sister is amazing.

the sarcasm is gone, but the quote remains.

my sister is amazing.
deal with it.

Thursday, March 15, 2007


this statement is not meant to incense, but in the spirit of being completely frank (no pun intended (although at this point you probably don't know what it is i'd be punning about (sigh...) so, um, sorry about that. if you are (for some reason) re-reading this, there was no pun intended)) i do not like "it's a wonderful life".
in fact i don't like frank capra films. the whole capra-corny oeuvre.
i enjoy a feel good film as much as the next person. i enjoy films with flat, static heroes and villains. i love them. i would marry them if woman and cinema were allowed to wed. but that is because people don't take them seriously. i've never met someone who said, "'princess diaries' is a great representation of what life should be."

george bailey is a pansy.
and a whiner.

but whatever. who cares what i think.

because i'm pretty sure i'm bound for hell.
sad to say.

five-ish years ago there was this guy who fancied himself beckhamesque, except prettier and better at soccer. this was a person who didn't understand why he was red carded during an intramural soccer game for purposefully kicking a girl on the opposing team in the knee and who, one day, in a moment of epiphany proclaimed, "it's okay to be mean to fat people... unless they have a glandular problem."

he was an idiot.

a few days ago i sat on my couch. confounded. with my hand covering my mouth.
i've been forced into a social sphere i do not like. getting to know people who aren't what you would call smart. or interesting.
or sane.
but on my couch i was given a brief history of all these people and i was right, they aren't smart.
or sane.
but they are interesting.
they have back stories involving getting hit by cars.
being depleted of oxygen as babies.
brain tumors.
mothers following them out to college.
being sent to a crazy, underground religious high school.
personality disorders.
heroin addictions.

i was riveted. my displeasure melted as this year's snow in the recent and delicious warm weather and i sat agog, listening to more and more stories of intrigue and heartbreak and that's when it hit me...

i believe that it's okay to be mean to stupid people... unless they have a mental disability.

i'm hellbound.

Monday, March 12, 2007

daylight savings

i've been trying with great determination to become what the great poets have termed "a morning person".
every fiber of my being rebels against the notion, but last friday my willpower won. it actually won. i woke up and went to a 6 am step aerobics class.
my willpower has never won before so naturally i assumed once i'd beaten my id into submission, it would wither away much in the style of the wicked witch of the west (i'm melting! MELTING! ooOOooohhh what a world what a world! etc) and i would forever thereafter be a morning person.
hail, my willpower, the wicked witch is dead.

but no.
turns out when you get up at 5am, you get tired about 1-ish, and then your head throbs all evening, and then you go to a birthday dance party and only last for about an hour and consider yourself extremely tolerant for not pushing the guy playing the guitar off the balcony (mercy killing).

and then you sleep in the next day until 11.

and then daylight savings happens and you realize you have no chance.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

hu. my shoulder angel.

i would like to illustrate a point with a quote...
shoulder devil: listen up, big guy. i got three good reasons why you should just walk away. number one. look at that guy! he's got that sissy stringy music thing.
shoulder angel: we've been through this. it's a harp, and you know it.
shoulder devil: oh, right. That's a harp, and that's a dress.
shoulder angel: robe!
shoulder devil: reason number two. look what i can do. [does one-armed handstand] ha-ha, ha!
kronk: but what does that have to do with me?
shoulder angel: no, no. he's got a point.
kronk: listen, you guys. you're sort of confusing me, so, um, begone... or, um, however i get rid of you guys.
shoulder devil: that'll do.
and a picture...

Monday, March 05, 2007

it's a long way to the top

my futon bed is on the verge of collapsing.
i figure i can blame it on 1. the craftsmanship said craftsman being me, 2. my girth which proved too massive for welded steel, or 3. fate. dirty, dirty fate.

ah fate, the best scapegoat of all.

what with my bed's delicate state, i've been sleeping very lightly which basically means i've been having very vivid dreams. very vivid and very mundane dreams which do little more than confuse me when my alarm goes off because didn't i already get up and go to work today, and why did that kid from my apartment complex 2 years ago call me up to tell me about his cataract surgery, and did i really have a bickering match with my best friend from 6th grade, and... oh crap... i slept in.