Good... And Good for You

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...

uh oh. exactly 13 minutes ago, my yearly ennui kicked in. this calls for a cold compress, some diet coke, a new dvd from amazon.com, and probably some airborne. for good measure.

so. 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. ahem. so. one of the first things i ever scrapbooked was a picture of my sister and i as youngsters- all bright eyed and tanned

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 beckh

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 r

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...

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.