ending with a fizz...

Damn you to curses Ilene Chaiken. Fuck. You! Betty!

I love(d) the L word dearly.

Some could even say obsessively and they wouldn't be wrong. At. All.

One of the reasons I believe that I became so obsessed with the L word last year was because of the amazing, cliff-hanging, season finale of last year. I had only seen a few episodes before the end of the season and that season finale was a fucking doozy. It was well-acted, well-written, well-shot. Thanks Tony Goldwyn! You've been the only consistent person working for this show! And as a guest star this season you still prove that you're a hottie way past Patrick Swayze. Though, you'd probably want to do him.

I digress.

This season finale? Would have been okay if was another episode. And even then too much time was given to performances. One of them being Betty, who, really? You've already performed once. A very blah speech by Gloria Steinem. Really? Did you write that yourself Gloria? Couldn't you have done better? Can I have your step-son's number? I've loved him for years. Especially in time for his premiere? Heart. I liked you, love some songs, but there isn't time in a season finale to fit you in. Especially all three of you. Especially after a random, unitelligble conversation with Betty members 'acting' and Gloria Steinem and most of the cast discussing what I believe are the relationships between lesbians and feminism. Really? In a season finale?

There aren't any real cliff-hangers. There was a fucking off-the-cuff jab from Tina to Bette about her affair, which Shortie and I were like "woah! Did she just say that?!?" We rewound. She did. Did we deal at all this season with them dealing with the affair? Nope. And now we just get some random fucking comment where they can semi-joke about it? Bullshit. Lazy fucking write Ilene. Lazy fucking writing.

Last season was an entire storyline about how Foxy Brown's son wouldn't talk to her or contact her and she was dying to see him. Last night? Arrives for the funeral and they are acting like any normal mother-son relationship. Lazy. Fucking. Lazy.

Jenny's back to being bat-shit crazy. Done. But not fun to watch. Not even good-bad to watch. Why? Also? Worst opening shot sequence ever. Well at least the most wasteful one to date.

The only thing I know is that I just am not sure if I care anymore. I mean it was sort of like, "meh. That was an okay episode." Not, I can't wait to fucking see what is going to happen next season.

There is one potential, and here me Ilene Chaiken.

If you kill of Tina, I will be absolutely livid and will refuse to watch the show. You will have effectively killed your show as you have every fucking redeemable tertiary character on this show. I will hate you with the burning passion of a thousand suns.

Don't. Fucking. Do. It.

No one is happy with this past season. I know you embrace the controversy, but there's a fine line between people having issues with the characters to actually not enjoying the show and fucking killing it.

Oh. And Betty? Stay the fuck away from the show. And stop ruining moments on the show by having words whispered. We're not fucking two-year olds. We. Get. It. I hope you're fired Elizabeth Ziff. Especially for the totally inappriateness of bastardizing 'Jewish' music and Jenny and the theme song even more. Learn some resepect.

Maybe I'll see you next year bitches. I don't even have the energy to end that with the exclamation point it deserves. I'm just too disappointed.

diet coke and traveling...

Diet Coke now has Splenda.

This is very exciting news. Splenda is better for you, and the best part is that it tastes a bit sweeter making it taste somewhat more akin to Cola Light of Europe. Which I'm fucking ob-sessed with. It's awesomely amazing. I know they can't release it here because it has some calories or whatever but it's so damn tas-tay.

Clearly Diet Coke with Splenda does not taste exactly the same, but it still tastes really good. I bought a case of it yesterday at CVS and was very pleased to see they already have it in cans. But not only does it taste really good, meaning it'll be a better mixer with alcohol, but Splenda will not kill you, or force you to lose your memory such that is the beauty of NutraSweet. So Stretch? There might still be some hope for you yet.

Picture it. Conn College early fall 2004. It's Stretch's 21st birthday. She's the most obsessed with Diet Coke, or you know, DC as she lovingly refers to it, out of any of us. What are a group of friends to do to make her birthday special?

Why buy 21 cases of DC and stack them up in her doorway in the morning, blocking her in her room.

Priceless.

Also? I would like to pimp today a very cool company. I was on SFist reading an interview with the creator of this travel company called Tango Diva which is all about providing women with information about traveling around the world alone. It's a pretty cool website, and totally something helpful for women. There is no need for women to not travel alone and safely, but it also provides other fun information such as a style, and a wellness section. I can't really do justice, but it's a kickin' website.

Happy Monday!

not that it matters, but...

When I first started my job I had a massive crush on one of my co-workers. It was bad. And embarassing because for the first few months that I worked there I didn't really talk to anyone at my job except for the people on my project. I was pretty much resigned to being friends with the controlling lady on my team, who I should have realized wasn't even liked by my boss. I mean I just thought that she was cool for giving me tips on playing solitaire because she played it all the time.

I should have known better.

Luckily the holiday party happened and I started talking to more of the people. I mean there were other people that I chit-chatted with, but nobody that was young enough.

Anyway soon I was talking to Big Office Crush. Nothing outstanding in the sense that we were becoming best friends, but you know a 'hey.' I LIVED for those heys. Let me tell you. I would plan my day around how many times I could walk by his office to get a hey. Or how many times I could invite hime outside for a smoke, or have him invite me outside for a smoke.

I lived for those smokes. I was seriously fucking smitten.

I decided to move on because, well, it was the good thing to do because it was moving from good office crush to emotional or whatnot. I did. I mean I still thought he was cute and adorable. Because not only is BOC cute, he is the best flirter ever, though I don't think he knows that he is. He also doesn't realize how smokin' hot he is either. I thought at first he was being modest but Krazy Ko-worker was all, no, seriously he doesn't think he's good looking. Tragic.

I moved my affections on to the disease TB, and BOC moved offices to around the corner.

It's BOC's birthday on Sunday. He had his party slash massive happy-hour last night. I think it shows how far I've moved on when I was like, well I guess I'll go for the first section of the happy hour but not the $20 for 3 hours of alcohol at the club. And let me just say that it's not rail. So there McFadden's!!!

I started at the happy hour and BOC was surrounded by his harem of lady co-workers. It's crazy that they are all female. And pretty much all of them are attractive. i seriously wasn't going to go, but then CHC was all, let's go. Granted after 3 G&T's, but still.

CHC was in rare form last night. She was fucking hilarious. She has this funny obsession with saying that someone has licked their teeth at her. Especially lesbians. Yeah. I don't know. But last night one of COB's co-workers was an obvious trendy butch-dyke and CHC was all, let's make her want us and make her think we're lesbians so she insisted on linking arms whilst walking towards the club. She's fucking mental, but I love her. She also sat down with a group of boys for like an hour after we got there and I finally pulled her away. She was all, Thank YOU, I couldn't think of what to say to get away. She totally should have sat down with the young David Beckham look alike with his girlfriend.

I digress. I can fill more fun stories later.

The main point is that last night BOC was very, very, friendly and hands-y and it was awesome. Like the constant arm around the shoulder and hugs. It was fucking awesome, but probably a good thing that I don't have a crush on him because I would have died.

But he's still sooo fucking attractive that to have him be hands-y is still hot.

Sigh.

the PERFECT way to procrastinate

Okay. So I've heard about all the awesome things that the new Google maps can do. Seriously.

I was reading sfist today and they were talking about how people are fusing technologies together for putting personal pictures up with addresses for flickr and other cool stuff. Plus there was this guy who fused maps with craigslist apartment listings together which is pretty much an awesome way to look for an apartment in the city you live in.

For some reason I was inspired to just look at the maps and play with the cool satellite thing. After a few kinks...you should really look in map mode first, because sometimes putting an address in is a little tricky, and it's kind of fun to look around, click to satellite.

It's the MOST addictive thing ever. I started putting in my childhood addresses. My middle school. My current apartment. Which is funny because part of it is blurred because it shows a governmental thing...trying to not be specific about where I live here people.

Or my college, which I believe is because of the nuclear plant, or whatever that plant was up the river. But doesn't it look just lovely! Right.

So. Much. Fun.

Do it.

Try it out. Hours of endless fun!

damn. you. pmf!

PMF was nice enough to send me a free CD sampler thing after she came to visit. I believe mostly because she loved this one CD that I got for free and so I gave it to her since she preferred it over me. And, of course because, you know, I'm awesome.

Anyway, this CD has been pretty awesome. It's gotten me up in the morning. It peps me up with the punk and rock. I'm not sure where she got it, but it fucking rocks.

The reason I'm cursing her? I'm now in love with new bands. Songs that I'm obsessed with, so I want to hear more, and this probably means I'm going to be buying CDs.

So damn you PMF, DAMN YOU!!!

Making me spend more money.

So, I might as well pimp while I can. The band The Stills, very cool, especially their song "Still in Love." They're on the same label as Bloc Party, who are being touted as the new indie band. It's a little ridiculous. And the Panthers.

stellastarr* is another band on the CD.

Damn you PMF! I hope you're happy!

so this is what is happening in the world?

Jesus Christ can't get a driver's licensce, and he's been living this whole time in DC?

Seriously? This is big news for CNN? Seriously? A crazy, crazy man somehow legally changes his name, and West Virginia of all places won't give him one. Really? I would think West Virginia would be the first.

Though I do have to fucking love that last line, "Christ is not talking to the press right now." Bloody brilliant.

Also, you might want to check out glaciers while you can because they're going to be gone soon. Man, I remember when school field trips would be to go check out the glaciers in high school. I guess that will be ending soon.

See, this is why I don't like hot weather.

And why I hope to be dead when California finally breaks off from the US as is pretty much predicted.

you tell them arianna!

Arianna Huffington is the fucking coolest.

Though they totally wasted her breath on the fucking L word this season. But still she exuded class and hotness saying her poorly written lines. I need a special button or something for this, but thanks for ruining another fucking moment Ilene Chaiken.

Back to the best, she's awesome in this little rant about DeLay.

he can't seem to pick a team

Shortie sent me to a blog today, that is actually quite fun. It seems to consist of this person just posting pictures of celebs with a few funny comments.

Enjoyable. And clearly what I should be doing at work, when I'm already behind.

I guess I'm still trying to get back into work with everything of the semester ending up. Just one last mini assignment that I'm doing tonight.

Yay!!

Back to the original though, on the blog it had pictures of Cletus Fed. in his Italian L'Uoumo magazine shoot. Because, you know, they couldn't buy more than a details cover for him here in the US.

Anyway, it toally reminded me of when I was talking to one of my friends and we were discussing the whole Brit and Cletus marriage and how fucking awful it was and that he was obviously trashy.

Her response? He switches up his baseball caps and so he obviously doesn't have any real allegiance to one team.

This is what bothered her.

I couldn't stop laughing when she said that.

And just aas an FYI, she's a die hard, die hard Red Sox fan.

actually realizing a moment.

Now it could be the alcohol talking...CBF emailed me at work today and he was all, "Are we drinking or what?" I'll explain more some other time, but we have dates over the phone sometimes conerning drinking. I know it sounds weird, but sometimes it's the closest we can get to hanging out.

The first time was actually the summer after graduation. He was still at out our college doing a summer job and I was home and unemployed, and very unhappy living in hickville, CA. I had leftover vanilla vodka, which had JUST made an appearance onto the scene. He...well I'm not sure what he had. Other new thing on the scene? Vanilla coke.

I started by making those, and then by the end, and having run out of vanilla coke, we were actually doing shots over the phone. Countdown and everything. By the time my mom got home I was pretty much drunk. We were playing songs over the phone, read: blasting them over the phone for each other, and dancing around my living room. My mom? Less than impressed but because she's the greatest didn't actually say anything.

I digress.

As I was putting ice in my glass to then pour coffee over, so I can get halfway through this final, I suddenly was hit with the, wow, I can't believe I've been complaining about the work I have to do at the end of the semester. I should still be thankful, and I am really, that I got into my program. It's a rather selective program, and with everyone going to grad school now, I realize that I'm pretty fucking lucky that I got into my program and that I'm actually getting a master's in something. That I got into any program, and thankfully one with some sort of name attached. You're pretty much screwed nowadays if you don't have a higher degree, and wow am I thankful.

So this post is to take back everything I've bitched about lately concerning work. I really am thankful, and I should even be thankful that I do have something to bitch about. I'm getting my master's and I'm excited. Who knew I'd ever go to grad school? Not I.

Thank goodness. I love you grad school.

shortie's fucking famous!

Okay, so the -ist blogs are picking up steam. Personally? I'm obsessed. I don't just check the DC one. I look at Boston, San Francisco, NY, London, LA, and sometimes the remaining two cities when I'm a little bored. I figure I have connections to the cities I check daily, so of course I want to know what's going on. Plus? There are definitely some cool articles. So, okay, the one city I like to read but have never been to is Chicago, but I've always wanted to go!

Either way? These city blogs are cool, funny, and I think they're really building up their viewership.

Last week, our very own dcist wrote about Art Blogging and right here and how it is essentially the new wave of art critquing. And? Guess what? At then end of the article they chose local blogs that they think are interesting concerning the art scene. Shortie's was in there.

Fucking awesome!

survival, pt. 1

I didn't make it to Shortie's show unfortunately. This is probably a good thing as I would have probably collapsed. Unfortunately? I wanted to do an assigment this evening that I didn't finish in class because I was too exhausted for finishing my paper.

That's right. I finished my paper.

I'm done with 202!

Awesome!!!!!!!!!

It hasn't sunken in yet, and I still feel lame because it's fucking Cinco de Mayo and I'm tired as get out and can't be drinking.
Sigh. I think I'll have a silver bullet and go to sleep.

Be at work on time.

I know. Who would think, right?

One more assignment and a take-home.

It's almost done!

"No More Hiroshimas! No More Nagasakis!"

Location: Martin Luther King, Jr. Library
901 G Street, NW,Washington,DC
When: Thursday, May 5, 6:30pm to 8:00pm


I can't go, but anyone who can, should. I might even try and stop by after class though I shouldn't, and the fact that I'm still awake at this hour is a sign I'm going to be dead.

If anything, there should be free wine.

what were you thinking tivo?

Because TiVo hates me, it didn't record America's Next Top Model tonight.

I was actually powernapping so I didn't realize it wasn't recording. What did it record instead? Some old crappy Friends episodes. I mean I love Friends, but I love ms so America's Next Top Model.

It's a fucking AWESOME reality show. It's pretty much the best guilties pleasure out there. I was able to get both B and Stretch to love it. But it didn't last because neither of them watch it now, but then both don't really watch tv.

One of the worst parts? From briefly looking at the forums at TWoP it looks like I missed some awesome snarkiness. Which is part of the reason it's such an awesome show. Plus laughing at how stupid some of these girls are is awesome. In last week's episode almost all of the contestants had to ask what aloof was. Aloof.

I weep for the public education of America.

The one redeeming part? I can read both the recap and recaplet by the awesome Potes, who, I think this might be the wrong thing to be posting on a public blog, but CBF and I think she might be one of the funniest people ever, and when we went to Rhode Island, we might have thought about going to a lesbian bar to try and meet her...but those are dark hours people. CBF even emailed her and was all, so..what are fun places to go in Providence? Any wonder she didn't respond? I wouldn't have. Seriously though, I love her. Plus the recapper for the L word. Like witty enough that you're like, yeah I'd date you even though I don't swing that way. Or. I think it's more like you want to be their best and closest friends. Hmm...it's hard explaining the love.

Stretch called tonight, and I was like, guess what's actually playing right now? Come Undone. She wasn't familiar with the song so I held the phone up to the speakers.

"Oh, of COURSE I know that song. Easy lisening station. In fact? I think it might be broadcast live from your living room!"

Everyones a fucking comedian.

come undone

I have my multiple obsessions. To extrapolate on the different areas of my life where this is indeed the case would take too much time.

Even i know that this would not be a good idea right now.

For some reason though I'm obsessed with Duran Duran's "Come Undone." I mean I like Duran Duran just fine, and I am obsessed with multiple songs. Usually I'll listen to them on repeat for a few days and move on to a new one.

Every time the song pops up on my random on iTunes, I have to stop, turn the music up, and end up playing the song again. And. Usually again.

I love it.

going back over to the dark side.

For reasons unknown, I used to have a massive celebrity crush on Chad Michael Murray. Sigh. I know.

Then about two years ago these rumours started that he was dating Hilary Duff, which totally fucking squicky because he was 20 and she was 15 at the time. I guess comparatively that her current boyfriend is 25 and she's still underage it doesn't really fucking matter, but at the time I was pretty much at my peak in antipathy for the Duff. I still dislike her, but it doesn't physically bother me anymore. I think that could be because I really don't watch the Disney channel anymore and yeah...we're moving right along.

After the rumours did break, and granted I partly believed them, and even if they weren't true, it seemed they were awfully chummy and I'm pretty sure he called her intelligent in one interview, which, just, no. Now this didn't change the fact that I thought CMM was smouldering hot. Wouldn't you know it? The WB gave him his own show, AND from the promos it actually looked intersting. And? Proven at this point that he wasn't dating the Duff. I would also like to point out that my crush on the pretty CMM began before most of America under 13 suddenly took notice.

So...I started watching this show on the WB. It actually was pretty good. And? Amazingly enough it was being recapped for TWoP, which was even fucking better. His acting, now that he was getting more time, proved that it really wasn't that good, but overall the show was pretty solid. Plus, some pretty good music. More indie than say Howie Day on Summerland.

OTH broke for a hiatus with this awesome cliffhanger episode. Somehow when the show came back it was pretty much crap. I was still having C tape it, but I was fast-forwarding for the most part. Fast-forward to this fall, and I just wasn't watching. I read those little synopsis things on the website, but even TWoP dropped it as a show. I read the forums there though and people generally discussed how it was crap. My CFO kept on asking if I was watching, but I wasn't because I was watching Veronica Mars. Which I can say is the best new show of the season, and I don't even care what genre you are talking about. It's fucking brilliant, and the acting is out of this world too. Watch it. It was barely picked up by UPN, and yes, I know, UPN, but it's smart it's got jaw-dropping moments...I can't say enough.

I'm not sure what happened, I think my CFO heckled me enough, and Veronica Mars was on this fucking long sabbatical, so I started to watch snippets of OTH. Then? There was the episode before their sabbatical, and it was one of those ones where you're like, no way! And of course there was this awesome Ryan Adams song during the montage which clinched it for me.

I feel like I need to stand up.

Hi. My name is Karen. And I'm watching One Tree Hill again. And I'm enjoying it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to fixing your problem.

i don't know what's sadder...

The fact that the person who lives in the apartment across from the courtyard is watching the Disney channel program "Phil of the Future," or the fact that I can recognize it across the courtyard on a small TV after only a minute or so?

i'm showtime's bitch

Showtime might just be the death of me. Or more aptly put, may be the death of my graduate career.

I'm officially Showtime's bitch.

There is most obviously the L word. Then it introduced me to Queer as Folk. It made me stay up last semester way past my bedtime with my first viewing of Rodger Dodger, which, is a fucking brilliant movie. With a rather genius cast. Then it gave us the little gem of Fat Actress.

Sure at times offerings are uneven, but there is no other network that will provide such fabulous gay fare, and the indie films as well. It's not HBO, but I have stronger allegiances now with the programs on Showtime.

You might ask why am I bringing this up now? As I was channel surfing briefly while having a snack, and now with TiVo this is a rarer incidence, I found the channel was playing "Cutting Edge" which is one of my all time favourite movies.

The bright white lighting, the obvious cheap ass budget, the poor attempt at showing ice skating, all made awesome by Moira Kelley and my boyfriend at the time D.B. Sweeney. What a hottie at the time. Time in fact as not been well to him, but damn is he adorable in this role. In fact, Moira Kelley made out with two of my high school crushes, the other being Brendan Fraser at the time of "With Honors."

So now of course I have to have the movie on in the background because I can't ever not watch it because it's rarely on, much less so without the commercials and not on Oxygen.

Speaking of which, was playing "Out of Sight" at the same time, and is another movie that I fucking love, and actually have been meaning to watch for days. A brilliant adaption of an Elmore Leonard novel. Somehow George Clooney and J.Lo fucking sizzle and pretty much make the movie.

Must get back to my movie.

seriously. what am i doing?

Things I do when I get totally stressed out?

Okay, so I've posted about the procrastination problem. So yes, if that was your answer, it is indeed the overarching theme. Last week it was specifically looking for a rehearsal dinner necklace, which begat a search for my 'every day' necklace. Sigh. Hours wasted. Though at least it ended in CBF buying me an awesome and totally unneccesary necklace. I love CBF.

Not only though do I procrastinate with work, but coupled with stress I have a spending problem. Especially when I don't really have money to be spending on actually buying things. The wedding is pushing me into the red, and I can't stop myself from spending money. Like, "hey, I don't have it anyway, might as well see how close I can go to actually having a negative number in my bank account!" So all three factors of stress, procrastination, and not having money are really a massive force of behaviour to deal with.

Tonight? It's buying albums on iTunes. It began with looking for singles that I wanted to buy. One of which is Howie Day's "Collide." The problem is that he has an exclusive album on iTunes where the song, Collide, which I wanted to buy also has an acoustic version which you can only get with the album. So then I listened a little and was about to buy it. Then I decided not to because it seemed too mainstream for me. For some reason, I have real disdain currently for 'mainstream' radio songs.

Then I was like, well if I'm going to buy an album I should buy an album I've been thinking about for awhile. Especially since I couldn't think of just one song that I wanted. So I then spent like 20 minutes between two Cure albums. They both had 18 songs, they both had like the 6 major songs that I wanted. There were like 3 differences.

Difficult. Time Consuming Choices.

Sigh.

At least I have a kicking new Cure album.

losing it

Okay, so there is one reason why I'm not jealous of iPod people. I've actually been warning CBF about not using is iPod on the subway to NY when he gets there because I've been reading reports about so many thefts.

If anyone stole my minidisc player I'd be like, "watch out, it skips when you walk!" If someone steals your iPod that's some serious fucking damage there. I mean that shit is like your baby, if you have it stolen you chase after it. If you're being chased and you drop it? You better run back and pick that bad boy up.

Fuck personal health, replacement costs are a bitch.

hey fucker!

You! Yes YOU! And no, I don't mean to partially quote a Ben Lee album.

When you're like 11 and on the metro for vacation with 5 of your other buddies on the metro in the middle of the day simmer down!

Not only that, but I fucking hope someone steals your damn iPod mini. No one your age should have a fucking iPod mini.

Not only are you too young to have one, you and your badly behaved friends are fucking annoying.

Why are you wearing pirate hats that look like you bought them on Pirates of the Carribean at Disneyland?

Also? You might think you look punk wearing your aviator glasses on the metro, but you look a fucking fool.

Finally? Learn the rules of metro. You're being loud and rambuncious on the metro, such as your tool of a friend using the higher bar to do one-armed pull-ups is embarassing. Not. Cool.

Why are there so many tourists going to Smithsonian at noon?

Why does a fucking 11 year-old have an iPod?

the more things change...wait, they don't

Once a procrastinator. ALWAYS a procrastinator. I think I fully have Stretch's support on this one. I don't know how I always end up this way, but I'm looking forward to the end of the semester.

And a break in the summer from school work. It'll be awesome.

Now I just have to decide which actual classes I am going to take. I've signed up for multiple, and all, or many sound interesting so I just need to whittle the choices down.

What's really odd about this sudden burst of blogging is how I've been rather inactive lately, and now that I should be typing about anything but this blog, I'm all about posting suddenly.

How sweet things stay the same.

more fun porn findings!

This is actually getting to be fun. I mean obviously not being at work this late...especially since I'll miss the beginning of AI but whatever.

‘Watcha Gonna Do when they Cum all Over you?’What Police Themes in Male Erotic Video Reveal …

Looking for my penis: The eroticized Asian in gay video porn

A Star Is Porn: Corpulence, Comedy, and the Homosocial Cult of Adult Film Star Ron Jeremy (who I secretly think is totally fascinating)

The Joy Fuck Club: Prolegomenon to an Asian American Porno Practice

Sex pigs: why porn is like sausage, or the truth is that--behind the scenes--porn is not very sexy.

WHEN JILL JACKS IN Queer women and the Net

Okay...and because it is google scholar, there are lots of actual studies.

It's the small things though. The small things.

gay male porn searches

So...part of the literature search I'm doing for my final paper has to do with gay male porn.

In an ironic twist, B., had no qualms about the shoes for her bridesmaids' whatsoever. It a not so suprising leap, both B's sister and the groom's sister did. We all had to wear the same shoes. This is a problem because

a) I have massive feet, which is direct opposition to Shortie's midget feet. Like seriously? You see her shoes and you're like, are those owned by small people? Teeny, tiny, teeny people! Okay, so that's referencing Kirstie Alley's show, which? Sometimes fucking brilliant and hilarious. Finding shoes that fit my feet is a difficult task. Usually department stores don't carry my size, and only fucking Payless carries my shoe size. And usually in really ugly styles too, but I do with what I can. And. Online stores, but that takes thought into buying your shoes. And a massive amount of time.

So. Limiting.

b) I'm pretty tall, so I refused to have a high heel. There's a picture of B, her sister, and I right before we're about to go to a nice dinner and I'm wearing, like, 3 inch heels TOPS, maybe less, and I'm fucking towering, towering!, over both of them. It's a pretty horrible picture, and I expressed that under no fucking means was I going to be that person in the wedding photos. This I believe was more of an issue/sticking point because it was more limiting for the ladies.

There was a flurry of emails. B.'s sister wanted one type, Groom's sis wanted another. We were all supposed to find ones, and forward them. We'd almost decide, and then either sister would be like, well what about these?

In the beginning I wanted closed-toe, just because I have weird toes too. What? So would you with massive feet.

So at one point though, B's sister sent out shoes that I didn't really like, I have forgotten at this point why...oh, the heel. Totally forgot. So to diffuse the situation, because these are dangerous times people, I decided to use a little levity in why I couldn't wear them.

I actually found an out. In formal I wear size 12, and so I was all, "well you know since I'm a Saskatchewan they won't fit my feet..."

Which, when I told CBF, he busted out laughing. He pointed out that I probably meant Sasquatch. Yeah. Of course I then felt totally embarassed.

First google finding in google scholar with gay and pornography?

Saskatchewan Law Review, 1993

Awesome. It's come back to haunt me.

caffeine count

Yesterday's caffeine count was rather high. I mean if I'm composing entries about Coffeemate? There must be a certain amount added. Which, and it could be due to the amount of stress, but I woke up with about 5 hours of sleep, and before my alarm went off. Weird. Which of course I then slept through. You can't waste those 5 minutes when you're just getting them.

So, yesterday:

2 cups of crappy office coffee...well there might have been a third in there

2 diet mountain dews...totally guzzled before class too

1 large mug of strong coffee at 11 p.m.

Oh. And 2 Silver Bullets when I first got home to try and combat that fabu panic attack, which? Well founded I find out.

Awesome.

Don't judge the Silver Bullet lifestyle. They're still left-over from when Stretch was visiting, and sometimes? It's all we can afford. It's a band-aid.

I need a cigarette.

emotion and no sleep are no good

It turns out that a lack of sleep might aid you in having a panic attack.

I pretty much had my first full on panic attack tonight, which, I'm suprised a little that it took this long. I might have had near panic attacks, but this is I think the first full on one...which I might still be in the midst of slightly.

I think it started with clearly the general stress of ending the semester and oversleeping today and finding my boss in my office as I walked in late, talking on the phone as if he owned the place. It was more than a little scary. I figured that he was there in case I came in and wanted to listen to the conference call that I was missing.

When awesome big boss man of the place was like, I'm sure this makes sense somehow...seeing as I was seated across from him, my personal big boss man was all, my phone isn't working.

Makes sense. Except potentially not because there is another whole office that he can use where two part-time people share it, and they weren't going to be coming in. He probably felt I was closest and...didn't care. Another co-worker afterwards was all, what was BBM doing in your office? I thought you quit, or you know...getting fired. I thought we were going to have to do an intervention and I went to C's office and she wasn't there either. I was like, well, thanks for watching my back, and no, I don't think I'll be getting fired.

I don't really want to go into detail of what spurned everything, but let's just say that's not really how you want to start your Monday morning.

how you know...

that you've had way, way, way, way too much strong coffee at too quickly late at night?

You're dancing around your apartment, okay, studio, to your iTunes library because it's filled at least half full with electronic music, in your socks, enjoying the slide on the parkay floor.

I know. Parkay sucks.

And I should totally be fucking doing my reading, but I'm MUCH too wired right now.

Shite.

does coffeemate scare anyone else?

Junior year I was introduced to Coffeemate creamer by CBF's family. I went home with him for Thanksgiving, and for the first time to his house. [And on a side note, this past weekend it felt like we were dating the most since we made out.] Digression. Anyway, in the morning there was the good coffee and then there was this liquid hazelnut creamer. I clearly had seen that nasty powdered shit that doesn't have any flavouring previously. I had never seen coffeemate creamer in a carton that looked like milk was supposed to come out of it. I added some to my coffee and a relationship was born.

It was fucking amazing. Granted I had been drinking dining hall coffee and on the rare occassion the goodness that IS Dunkin' Donuts. But this was still the time where most friends, okay, CBF who I essentially lived with Junior year, didn't have his car and so getting off campus was difficult. I was absolutely delighted that this creamer made my coffee taste like it had actually come from DD's.

Okay. So I was a little stupid because at first I thought it was his mother's mad coffee making skills. He pointed out it was the creamer. I was enamored. I was convinced this would make all my coffee in college that much better when I was up late at night and couldn't get off campus. Clearly, I had to get to the grocery store to get it, and well, I never did.

I even introduced my mother to the creamer that spring break when I was visiting. She still damns me for introducing it to her. Previously she was just adding milk. We were talking on the phone at some point recently and she was annoyed because she was all, I can't believe they didn't have the mocha flavoured creamer! They had run out! What was she going to put into her coffee!?!?! I pointed out that it was because it was Stater Bros., which is the sub-par supermarket. And that, you know, she could add milk. There was this HUGE fight between Albertson's which is the far superior supermarket and it's workers because they wanted health insurance or something. It turned into about a year-long debacle before it was resolved. My mom wanted to support them, and so was going to Stater's which it's worker lovingly refer to as Slaver Bros.

I'm not a morning person whatsoever, and so I don't have time to make coffee in the morning. My coffee maker that CBF got me doesn't have fancy adjustments to make coffee so it's ready for you in the morning and so I usually vie for the nasty free coffee at work. This past year with work and grad school I've started making coffee at night to keep me awake for all the work I have to do. Last semster was especially ugly. The coffee even was really ugly. I mean I was making fucking sludge.

There were grinds in the coffee.

The coffee was so bitter it would hurt my mouth and stomach.

The only thing that slightly helped was my lovely Coffeemate, and even then I still had to guzzle it in order to consume it.

The scary part? Sometimes I still fell asleep.

It's gotten to that point in the semester where I'm making coffee at night again. Stronger each day in fact. It's also time to whip out the CM again, because I want it to be able to go down somewhat enjoyably. The problem is that I bought creamer ages ago. From Giant no less.

The Giant where you can buy overdue food. The Giant where the lights outside don't really light up. It's abso-fucking-lutely ghetto but it seems closer than Safeway, and less of a hassle than going to the Social Safeway. If I had to gander when I bought the creamer, I would say earliest, February. Beginning of.

The creamer? It's still good. All three of them. One I know I must have bought in January. One is even good until June 1st. The others are good until mid-may. So hey. If the bottle stamp says it, it must be true. I'm adding that shit to my coffee.

The question? What the fuck is in the creamer that it can be 'good' for months? It's like the fucking twinkie of the liquid world, and that really scares me.

bourbon and the l

So...this past season of the L word, and it's really going to hurt me more than it will hurt the people at the show, has been, well...blah. Some episodes have been pretty good, and there have still been some enjoyable jems of songs.

And then? There's fucking Betty. The plethora of scenes where Betty and 'ezgirl,' who is the lead singer of Betty and music composer this season, ruin a scene with the fucking background music and noises. It grates to no end. You know what else grates? The fact that she obviously has no fucking talent in that she recycles her theme song different ways for each episode. If it's crap to begin with, why do you want to continue with it? Like the the theme song sung in french during one of the dream sequences, or in spanish during the Spanish titled episode? It's heavy-handed and unimaginative. It sounds like crap, and the lyrics are crap.

If some of the storylines are going to be contrived, long-winded, and boring, then keep with the awesome music. It makes time go by much more quickly. Plus, when there is so much fucking distracting background noise it takes you out of the episode. Case in point, Jenny's sitting on the steps explaining to Carmen that she lost her job because she 'outed' herself, and can you imagine what might be playing in the background? If you guessed a voice, most likely Ms. Ziff's herself, chanting 'lesbian' over and over again, you'd win some cash. Or you know, just in case while watching a sex scene, you didn't actually quite get that these characters were having sex and you know, enjoying themselves, we'll add some moaning.

I hate you Betty. I don't care that you're hometown products. You fucking suck. Especially you Elizabeth Ziff. Yes. That's right. I'm not going to address you by your fucking 'composer' name. Oh? And why do you all keep on popping up in throwaway cameos post your actual appearance performing in the episode. Which sucked. Though, when Miss Foxy Brown Herself was singing with you all, it was pretty cool. Most likely because it wasn't your song.

Things that make slow episodes go by much more quickly? Bourbon. I love bourbon. I mean I've been a vodka girl from the get go, and I'll never leave the vodka. But pretty much any time I drink bourbon it's a fucking ecstatic buzz. I don't know how that happens. So Shortie came by yesterday to catch up on all the 'lost' episodes that I've fast-forwarded through because I was bored with them. Bourbon makes the episodes go by much quicker. As does company who you can commiserate with about the awfulness that is the music and slightly the season.

You know what else The Bourbon can do? Plot and Plan. The action? Shortie's friends with the people who work at Lambda Rising, which I coincidentally learned today was around back in the beginning of the day when GLAAD was first beginning, and the workers stood outside Lambda and begged for donations. That's pretty cool. I'm in love with GLAAD and totally want to work there in a kick ass position. I digress. The plan? We're going to place a petition by the cash register to Boot Betty and mail it to Ms. Ilene Chaiken herself. Or, you know, Showtime.

Action people. We're not going to just sit at home and complain about how awful it is!

Though...if they, and by they I mean Ms. 'I'm too Hollywood and so I broke up with my partner and quelle fucking suprise since I essentially wrote it into the script for my alter-ego' Chaiken, find out...would they have the power to take away my Showtime, and my L word? Because I know I'm not strong enough to live without them.

It's like having a coke habit (because as Ms. Houston says, crack is wack, so don't be trying that crack), you're addicted, you know it, and you don't necessarily even enjoy it that much anymore, but you have to have it. Even when I'm fast-forwarding through, I know that if I wasn't at least seeing it I'd be going through withdrawal. It's a slippery slope people.

A Fucking. Slippery. Slope.

Sign the petition people.

jinx?

I guess mentioning that my blog was dead, led it to be dead.

Damn you! Blogger!

Today? Not so good. Too much empathy for a friend going through a very, stressful slash rough spot. Stressed me out. One of my traits that I hate about myself. Can't I just listen and advice without actually feeling stress and sometimes ill with worry about that person? Empathy is overrated sometimes.

not dead yet

I could be talking about this blog.

I could also be talking about my beautiful, wonderful, and well...dead-ish computer.

The backlight to my wonderful PowerBook blew this weekend. We're talking about a 6 month old computer. We're also talking about serious fucking crunch time in term time. The term ends at the beginning of May and I have a massive amount of writing to do until then and my laptop is going to be gone for two weeks.

At least that's what the dickwad at the Genius Bar told me. He was so fucking flippant that I wanted to slap him. Plus he was helping me and this other girl at the same time. It's like dude, I know you might be trying to show off, but I think it would indeed more expedient if you were to one of us at once rather than doing both of us at the same time. He also didn't seem to really care that my computer backlight blew.

He tried to do the reset move, and then realized that my screen still wasn't showing. His very serious and professional assessment? "Your backlight is blown." No. Fucking. Kidding. I know! He seemed flummoxed. He then had the audacity to look at my computer and ask if I dropped it.

Hello!?! McFly!!! I still have the cushioning styrofoam on the inside and there are no scratches. I treat that computer better than I would a newborn baby. There are Rules Dammit! for everyone, plus me, in getting near my computer and using it as well. I was a little indignant in my response and he looked like he didn't believe me. Dickwad.

He then asked if I bought it from them. "Yes." Did you buy it from this store? "Yes!" Fix my damn computer! It's Apple's fault. Not mine.

Then Genius Bar Boy was all, so, you know that your computer is going to be blank when you get it back right? You're going to be okay with that? What?!? No! I was so pissed. I was like, um, I have my songs and my school documents and Office and everything. He was like, okay so you'll probably want to back that up. Of course to the tune of 50 dollars. Sons of fucking bitches.

Dear Apple,

I love you. I do. You're pretty. You're ususally reliable, and I did pay an arm and a leg to get extra insurance this past weekend. Thanks for those extra $245...it better be worth it. But seriously? Charging for backing up data? Assholish. Hiring dickwads who think they're all that? You might want to cut back on that.
Thanks.

Your concerned customer,

Karen

happy early easter!

Tomorrow is going to be a hectic day, and so I figured that I would post this previous to Easter and I didn't have a chance at work to post. Because, you know. I should probably be workings since I'm taking a long holiday.

Easter has always been one of my favourite holidays, and in Geneva the Easter Vigil service was always my absolute favourite services of the year. It was just a special ceremony and fun social time afterwards.

Since college though, Easter has became my favourite holiday. I mean Christmas is great and blah blah blah whatnot, but for me it's really about being with my family rather than Christmas. It also is really stressful, though hands down I can't deny how much I love the Christmas market. Distinction? Not the actual Christmas day. Plus, there's always that semi-empty feeling afterwards, where it's over and you're sad that it finally is over, and everyone's just sitting around not quite sure what to do. Hint: Gluhwein can never go wrong.

Freshman year though, I went home with B for Easter, and I discovered a whole new world of Easter. I didn't quite enjoy the service as much, but the actual weekend is awesome. I mean that first Freshman year Easter was awesome because essentially all of B's family came up to her family's house for Easter because her grandparents still lived there at the same time, so it was a massive, loud, alcohol infused weekend off the bat.

Since then, unfortunately family members don't really travel across the US for Easter, and her grandparents no longer live there, but there are still the traditions. And that's pretty much what made Easter so awesome the first time. From the preparation of all the 'necessary' dishes such as the Bunny Rolls, Artichoke dip, Cheesy Potatoes, Rum Cake and MORE. It's a gourge fest, but it's fucking awesome. And. Of course. The Egg Toss. The front yard egg toss, and of course, over the house egg toss. The Easter egg hunt. The Easter basket hunt in the morning where we're all hungover from going out the night before and trying to decipher the clues. It's all awesome.

That's why I'm posting about the best holiday ever. And I'm off tomorrow night after class.

Awesome!

The one catch? I've still to finish my midterm due Monday morning.

Fucking-fuck-fuck-fuckers!

masturbation is not a crime.

Um. Yeah. It seems that I was talking, Shortie says flirting, and I might just have to agree, to this guy in the bar on St. Paddy's for like 45 minutes before I saw what his t-shirt said. Actually his friend, who was cuter but married, pointed it out saying he loved it. I was like, oh, that's great. I seem to remember after that that I might have lost slight interest, plus I was convinced that we should head to Nanny's because my CBC was working there.

We never made it. Might have been a good thing because at that point I was quite fuzzy with the alcohol as I had been drinking since 2:30. And started with vodka with CB.

So not only did I end up semi-flirting with some random boy, with a rather intersting shirt which just put it all out there, but who else do I exchange numbers with? A gay boy.

Curses. I don't know what it is really. Somehow I always find the gay boy at the party and exchange numbers with him. Though this time it was slightly different. CB and I were still by ourselves before meeting up with people...okay, I guess I should slightly start at the beginning.

I had the St. Paddy's day outfit. Bright, spring green polo shirt with my pink tie which was pure brilliant fun. Plus, I didn't want to bring a wallet, so I had put my bank card in one pocket, and cash and my id in the other back pocket. And I didn't want a bulky jacket, so I wore my blazer. CB and I met up in my neighbourhood of work because I had brought some vodka and the all new Gay Fuel, which is tasty, but you can't make the drinks as strong as you can with red bull. It's more watery I guess you would say. But, fizzier and peachier. Yum! CB and I stopped at the CVS to get Red Bulls to suplement especially since CB was feeling tired and drabby and I wanted to buy cigs as well. Which? Two for the price of one at CVS. And the weirdest thing was the guy was like, do you want it? I was all, "a free pack? Sure!" Which makes me think I'll be heading over there soon because by the end of the night they were all gone. I digress though.

CB finished our drinks and headed to LuLu's because CB insisted it was free plus supposedly 'cool' people were going to be there in the form of Better Than Ezra and reality stars. When we got there it was a lull time and they were closing for an hour. So we were walking by a liquor store at that moment and decided to buy a small fifth of vodka. I know. No. I know.

So we finished that on the street. I know. Dodgy. I know. Thought about going to another bar, but because I suddenly was worried about where my id and card were...they were in my front pocket but I freaked out momentarily, they said we were drunk and wouldn't let us in. Please. We were sober compared to most people at that point.

Off to the Black Rooster Pub. Wee! It actually was pretty cool because it wasn't that crowded at the time and CB and I were able to play darts. Somehow, because of two really drunken girls who took an interest in our game, we became friends with a drunken group at the bar. In the drunken group? Oh, and I'm totally skipping the part where I challenged this really cute boy to an Irish Car Bomb and lost. I should have known because a) I had been drinking already and was too buzzed for the fear that makes me fast, and b) he used to be a waiter/bartender and he came down here from CT to try and go to school and work but then dropped out of school. He can drink faster. I digress. Of course somehow ended up talking to the very, very, very gay boy in the group. Who was of course nice, and we hit it off. And then I guess his lifelong friend shows up, and the coolest part about them though is that they both grew up on Army bases in Germany, together obviously, where my aunt was stationed when she was in the Army, so we talked about that. And a little in German.

I, of course, in my state, thought this was the fucking awesomest thing ever! And we were really having a good time with the group. We had these little necklaces the bartender gave us with beer mugs on the end that we were all taking shots out of by the end. Awesome! Of course, we left because I think CB's girlfriend showed up and wanted to leave because she wasn't really joining the group and CB was going to meet up with his co-workers. But of course after a few of, you're the awesomest, no you are with the gay boy, we exchanged numbers. I was like, you're never going to call. But alas.

"Hey it's me, giving you a call, call me back."

Are we at the point yet, where I can recognize your voice? And do I call you back?

house of whatnow?

I'm a procrastinator. Established.

What I've never done yet up to this point is scare the shit out of myself at 2:30 in the morning by myself. Why would I ever even do that?

Clearly, when you procrastinate as much as I do, you need to find new ways to procrastinate. I mean there are only so many times you can visit your favourite websites because really? Not updated past midnight usually. Or 1 in the morning.

I discovered awhile ago that the iTunes player is quite the resourceful little tool in watching movie trailers which I fucking love. I vehemently hate being late to a movie because then you miss the previews and really most of the time they are better than the movies being advertised themselves, and it's just part of the process. Usually there will be a movie preview that will give you goose bumps and it's awesome. The iTunes player has lots of previews for movies that are coming up that might not even be in the movie theaters yet, and really it's just a great way to spend time.

I've also had a fleeting crush on Chad Michael Murray. It's done, but it was there for quite a significant period of time which is rather impressive. It was there until he did the Hilary Duff movie. Game over loser. Anyway, everyone has been talking about the new "House of Wax" which was filmed last summer and he's in it as well as Paris Hilton, blech, and a few others. The set was plagued with problems, one of which wasn't necessarily Paris' diseased muff, but the set burned down. Ironic. I know. Plus when he was filming it, CMM, as his rabid fans call him, suddenly hit mainstream press for some reason and people kept on talking about it.

The other day at work I noticed in the movie preview section there was a preview for "House of Wax," and I was like, cool, I should watch that but not right now because I'm listening to a good song, or I was actually doing work. I can't remember which at the time.

So when does Karen decide to watch the preview? By herself, past 2 in the morning. Which size does Karen decide to watch? Fullscreen. What does Karen realize halfway through the preview? What the fuck am I doing freaking myself out this late in the evening by myself with these freaky images. Again, not actually Paris.

Smooth.

that's so gay.

Truer words never spoken.

I think it's pretty obvious that I have an obsession for all things the L Word. I can't quite explain it, nor do I really care to. Though I do have to say that I think that obsession is waning slightly as I wasn't quite enjoying the new season as much.

Until the last episode. Fuck you L Word. How am I supposed to graduate from grad school when you play new episodes on Sunday night? Though I do have to say that in terms of regular fervor of fans over this show that I would be seen as a casual viewer comparatively. I mean I don't spend my day on message boards posting about the episodes, nor do I run some fan website.

I'm not going to try rationalize anymore. We all have our ticks. I mean my other show obsession is Golden Girls. I know. I know. So gay.

So yes, not only has the new season of the L word been slightly disappointing, but most importantly they have the. Crappiest. Theme. Song. And. Opening Sequence. Ever. I mean an unholy alliance has been formed between the group Betty and the showrunners. I mean horrible. Not only is the new pathetic song and sequence just calamitous, I mean really, the word fuck and any variation thereof does not need to be in a theme song...you're already a show about lesbians...you're edgy. We. Get. It., but one of the chicks from Betty is also the new music composer for the show. Which means that there are multiple variations of the theme song in the episode. It needs to end. Betty does not in fact rule, Betty sucks.

So, I found myself on the L word official Showtime site because they are 'supposedly' giving away a free iPod a day. Come on people. That's bullshit. But they had this highlighted link about an upcoming event that Ilene Chaiken, show creator, and as far as her hiring Betty and writing the first two lackluster episodes, buzzkiller, was hosting a Betty Rules evening with proceeds benefiting HRC.

Miraculously? The so-called 'awesome' Betty Rules event was happening here in DC. No cool stuff ever really happens here in terms of entertainment industry related. Okay, seeing what the event is, still no cool stuff happens here.

The evening is $40. What??? And so I decide to shoot the information in an email off to Shortie along with the brief teasing message, "Wanna go?" I mean a) clearly not worth the money and b) clearly don't have that type of money. Perhaps if like Jennifer Beals or Leisha Hailey or someone cool was hosting it I'd have sold my kidney or something to go. But come on people. Well, there's also the fact that I don't think that HRC is doing an effective job for the community, but whatevs.

Shortie's response? That's so gay.

I have no idea why but it cracked me up for minutes afterwards.

so do you have a job you do at work?

I'm not going to lie and say people haven't asked me that before.

Actually when I was on the phone with Shortie tonight she asked that particular question.

I think that the reason people ask me this question so frequently is because I often talk about what I might be doing at work.

Blogging...well sometimes, I'm not that prolific, nor do I feel the need to be. Reading Television Without Pity. Let's be honest. Reading a plethora of entertainment websites. Emailing sometimes. Homework. Bouncing off my office walls with energy. Tripping. You know. The regular.

What I leave out of that description? The mundane and the boring. I mean do my friends really want to hear that I had to make a photocopy pronto? I had to walk 7 blocks to make some photocopies in annoying library. I'm calling people to invite them to a meeting. I'm doing a meta lit search on issues concerning my project.

The answer would be, I think not. I often find those details boring. Plus they would potentially not really understand the issues and it's not interesting. Granted there are days where I should be more prolific at my job, but luckily I have a job with education benefits and benefits of being somewhat relaxed.

So friends? Back off. I totally do my share of work! Most days. Some days. Days...

did you open this already?

Firstly. Why do I only write new entries from home when I really should be studying or writing? It's like I was born to screw myself over. I mean I know I could go to bed a whole hell of a lot sooner if I would just get down to it and write my fucking reaction paper to class.

That would make too much sense. I have a little less than 12 hours to send in my reaction paper which essentially means that I have loads of time.

Okay, I feel like I have loads of time. What I'm hoping is that I finish this entry and just fucking type it and get it over with rather than waking up at 9 tomorrow and typing it and running in late to work.

I'd like to actually have the time tomorrow to swing by Dunkin's for coffee. Or you know, be on time for work.

Stay with me people, I'll get back on track again. I always do. The time period for my Pepsi and iTunes obsession is going to come to an end soon, almost inadvertently fueling me to purhcase more bottles. Make those stops to CVS more frequently. Buy a bottle at lunch despite the fact that the are 10 cents cheaper, but hands down a sure deal in getting a song.

I was a little 'hungover,' and I really do mean a dash on Saturday morning. And I really do mean just to the point where your body is a little sore and you just want cold, sweet soda to make you feel better. Or fabulous Gatorade, but there's only a Pepsi vending machine in your building. Which of course means the opportunity to win.

No dice. It wasn't even a buy one get one free. I hate vending machines. No control over your destiny.

Earlier this week, despite the fact that I sounded like a frog took up residence in my throat and I was attempting to regulary force my lungs through my throat I decided to stop by CVS to get a Diet Pepsi. I mean, I hadn't bought one in almost a week because I had been sick. I head to CVS with Curly and purchase two bottles. I can't ever just pick one, because what if it's a winner. Right?

I've decided I'll be good though. I'll just drink the one bottle and wait for tomorrow. Bottle number one? A winner! Wooot! Curly stops by to chit-chat, as she does, and peers at the bottle wondering if it's a winner or not. Another co-worker stops by for a legit question. I know. The fucking audacity! Curly leaves and leaves the bottle on my desk.

Of course, once I'm by myself again I can't help looking at the bottle next to me. Caffeine is coursing through my veins. For like the first time in days. I have to know. So I pick the bottle up, and what the fuck is that?

I see the bottle has already been opened. That plastic ring that is solidly fused to the bottle before the first purchase? It's separate? Fuck. Shit. Fuck. CVS is never going to believe me. I head off to see if Curly was in fact the culprit because she wanted to see. Curly starts laughing and asking when the hell she could have opened it without me hearing or noticing. I was like, you know, I thought so, but I just wanted to double-check.

This injustice must be dealt with. Plus? I can't drink an already opened bottle. So I enlist Crazy Co-Worker to come with me, and luckily she does. Luckily? CVS believes me and I get to pick another bottle.

Did I look at the bottle and see whether it had won when we were in the elevator? Yup. It was a buy one get one free, so I didn't feel so bad about having to return it. I was actually a little relieved. I wonder if I would have still returned the bottle. My question though is, I'm obsessed but i would never ever open a bottle and then put it back. I mean seriously people, a song is only 99 cents and that seems a little extreme.

Even for me! Bastards made me have to head back to CVS. And what if I hadn't noticed? DIRTY!

The new bottle? It was a winner. Which is pretty fucking lucky because I didn't look because I thought that would have made them doubt the fact that I wasn't just returning a loser.

Total iTunes tally at this point? 12 songs.

end of an era

I had the unfortunate experience of having to talk to the Most Annoying Aquaintance Ever; the only reason that I keep talking to her is because I'm always worried that maybe I'll need to use her for her car, or you know if everyone moves out of the city I would still have a friend.

I also just feel bad because she's that annoying, and I don't think that she has that many 'real' friends. I've found out through multiple forays into happy hours and her personal stories that people are her friends, but not really. Essentially they all think she's annoying and crazy. One time my friend and I were at a party, and met someone that was an alum at her college and we were all, 'do you know MAAE?' This person reacted with horror and disgust. MAAE's alma mater is pretty small, so it wasn't suprising that she was 'known' by this person.

She's not a horrible human being, so it's easier to be annoyed and feel sorry for her, and never really stick a fork in her, you know?

Anyway, MAAE is on the phone with me at work, and I'm semi-listening as usual, until she hits me with the Worst. News. Ever.

Krupin's Deli has closed.

Brace yourselves. Krupin's is The. Best. Deli. Ever. I guess I should rather say was, but you get the drift. Stretch and I used to frequent Krupin's for brunch almost every Sunday. It was awesome. My mom though I was going to take my grandmother there when she came to visit, and the first time CBF came she asked if I took him there. I mean even my mother knew how much we loved this place.

After I took the LSAT's my friend, who I still have think of a nickname...let's just go with Bridezilla for the moment...and I love you dearly B, and MAAE picked me up, and the first place we went to was Krupin's to help me through that trauma.

Krupin's made you feel like a regular. Or, maybe we just were regulars. Either way, the Blintz's rocked, the potato pancakes were awesome, and I loved the Reuben's. Stretch and I would regularly gorge ourselves. Especially on the free refills of sodas. There is never enough Diet Coke.

I'm still in mourning. It's now Mr. K's New York Deli, and MAAE informs me that the menu has changed, and they've painted the walls different colors. What the fuck?

One of the best parts was that this deli had been in DC for years and the walls were lined with photographs of regular families and famous people. It was a slice of a genuine New York Jewish Deli down to the bowl of pickles on the table.

One time, and I swear it could have been Krupin himself served Stretch and I. We were hungry and slightly hungover and so we ordered appetizers and a main meal. I ordered the potato pancakes and a Reuben whilst Stretch ordered Blintzes and a Salmon platter.

He was supposed to bring out our appetizers first, but instead brought out all four plates at once which meant it was this fucking buffet of food that even to us looked like too much food. He was the gruff old man, just placing them on the table. Pausing briefly, he looked at us both and just said, "God Bless you Girls." Like he thought we were going to die for eating so much food.

Stretch and I busted out laughing. Of course we didn't finish the food, but we did put a major dent in it.

God Bless you Krupin's.

wine bars are dangerous

Okay. So I've decided to defeat the block I've had in terms of writing posts about something other than not knowing what to write, and drunk Hilary Duff pictures.

Which, you know, you should totally check out if haven't yet. I mean they aren't in the section of Lindsay Lohan drunkeness with her bought tits flopping all over the place or her doing alps of coke like Mischa Barton, but they still are pretty cool.

I've decided that since I've finally given PMF, and for the record she definitely is my friend...but it's something she understands, a nickname that I can continue my stories from the way beginning.

To keep this long story somewhat short, PMF comes for a 'surprise' visit two weekends ago. It would have been more of a shocker if I hadn't beaten Shortie for the information because I knew something was going on and I couldn't take the not knowing with all the other stress in my life.

PMF arrives on Thursday, and I arrange to meet up with PMF and Shortie after my class so we can have some drinks and hang out. I was very excited as I hadn't seen PMF in ages because every time she came to visit I was out of town.

Shortie is working the opening of an art gallery, and so I beg off a happy hour with classmates to meet the duo at the art show. In the freezing cold wind. With Shortie telling me to get off the metro one stop early so I have to walk an extra 5 blocks in the shady neighbourhood. 'Hello group of drug dealers! No, no. That's okay. I don't want your candy! And no. No sexual advances this evening please. And this? Totally fake designer bag. See ya!" Smooth Shortie. Smooth.

So I arrive at the art show. And this is a phenomenon that Shortie has introduced me to. And damn fucking art show opening? Make sure you go. Two words. Free. Wine. It's the greatest thing ever. So not only are you feeling like you're having a cultural experience, but you get as much free wine as you want. And yeah, there are usually lovely little crudites but that doesn't matter next to the wine.

I swoop in and start my evening. Because here is my other thing. I always need to take advantage of free alcohol. I think it's clearly from being a poor working runt and finally realizing how expensive fucking alcohol is in the real world post-college. So we look at the art. Drink the wine. Catch up with PMF. Drink wine. Watch other people suddenly come in. Open another bottle of wine. Drink wine. Talk about Shortie talking with Metro Boy. Drink more wine. Talk about the artist's outfit. Drink more wine. Close the art show. Finish the bottle of wine.

Evening Wine Glass Count: 5 maybe 6.

So as previously planned, though much later in the evening, we decide to head to the fabulous, fabulous french wine bar in my neighbourhood. They have awesome, intimate seating and decorations along with awesome chill-lounge music. Most importantly? They serve Kirs.

Kir: White wine with a dash of Cassis.
Super Fancy Evening? Kir Royale: Champagne with a dash of Cassis.

I was introduced to such love in high school. Don't look at me like that. The drinking age was 16 thank you very much.

We enter and the bar is actually pretty packed. Interesting. Especially for a Thursday evening. So we huddle ourselves around the table and start in. Kir for me, Kir for PMF, beer for Shortie. Now, to be honest we're pretty buzzed at this point. Strike that. I'm pretty buzzed and the other two are on their way toward buzzed land. PMF and Shortie decide to order the cheese platter. And we all order another round of drinks.

By now we're laughing at shared memories in this dark, warm wonderful place and for some reason we decide to deviate from the norm. We decide to get some of their custom drinks. Because you know what? One of them has absinthe in it! Absinthe! So were all, aight, let's get crazy tonight.

Sadly, the bar was out of absinthe. Instead we ordered these fabulous drinks that had malibu, and milk and creme de cacoa in it and who else remembers but it was tasty. Wait. They ordered that. I can't remember what my drink was anymore, but it was very strong. Clearly as we're that happy we decide to get another round. I'm back to wine and Shortie and PMF are still on the cocktails. This is where my drink count gets a little fuzzy. I do remember that my mother called, because she always does, and because I'm drunk I of course decide that I should pick up the phone. I then shove the phone in Shortie's face saying, talk to her while I'm not in the hospital. Stories are told. Laughing has been had.

Final Drink Count: Unknown.

The next morning I wake up and as I realize that my chest feels heavy and ALL the lights are on in my apartment and the TV is on, but on mute, and I'm on top of my covers in my comfy clothes but not my pajamas.

Shit. It's 6 in the morning and I feel like shit and I have to be at work soon. Not nearly enough time to sleep off the effects of the wine. I do stumble around my apartment turning everything off, including the oven.

Scratch that. Maybe art openings are dangerous.

Good dangerous though!

another p word

procrastination.

Something that I seem to have perfected over the years. I have gotten better, but it is still something that I cannot escape. i think that my constant access to the internet might have something to do with that, but I digress because it's just so bloody brilliant.

Due to the fact that seemingly writing about my two previous weekends of visits of CBF and, drum roll here please...Probably My Friend (and I do truely believe my friend will understand her nickname)...seems somewhat daunting, the simple task was to just give PMF her nickname finally. If it turns out that she doesn't like it, she's the only one who I'm changing it for.

Because? She's that fucking cool.

She rocked the house with her V-Day performance of the Vagina Monologues and she's reclaiming cunts all across Boston. She's in the business of cunt repoing. Sigh. That's more for her benefit as well, but it still makes me laugh my ass off when I remember her email discussing her business.

Essentially? This blog is boring for anyone but her. This post is for her awesomeness in taking part in an awesome play and a very important cause.

Probably My Friend. You fucking rock.

ha ha ha

okay.

first? i had no idea what fucking time it was until i saw the time on the change date and time. i'm supposed to wake my sister in 45 minutes. fuck. might as well stay awake now. or just go to sleep.
NOW!

okay. so. since i have a mac, some of the awesome features of blogger, such as hyperlinking rather than putting in the full address don't work. whatevs.

this is worth it.

i believe that regular, or at least early readers of this blog will be familiar with the antipathy that i have for hilary duff.
antipathy.

the other bothersome thing was how she was going on and on about how pure and, you know, non-drinking and partying she is.

clearly, she was being compared to lindsay lohan. and i mean even i am seemingly sober compared to her.
really too bad considering she could have talent. too bad.

i'm a huge regular reader of this one blog which is pretty fucking juicy. and he just found drunken, partying photos of hilary.

it's awesome. just scroll up to check out the photos with even better photos to click on. in one you can clearly see her friend is also drinking a vodka red bull.

the best drink of the batch, but clearly not something for 17 year olds.

awesome.

without much further ado: drunk Hilary!

ew. just. ew.

The showering needs to stop.

I've been trying to motivate myself to work on one of my assignments which is infinitely more difficult considering I'm sick with no real energy of motivation.

It doesn't help that I can hear my neighbour in his shower right now grunting. With his girlfriend. Or by himself.

Ew.

I don't need to hear that. Especially right now.

EW!

Update on his looks: I got quite a few glances this weekend and past few days and he just might be a Monet. Fine body, but I don't think his face is very cute. What a shame.

i just might be going insane...

If my neighbour's heard me they might just think I was a crazy person.

Or, you know, on the phone.

I have this habit, and I do believe that I'm not the only one, where while I'm at my computer or zoning out in front of the TV or even just puttering around my apartment doing stuff that I'll have anything to actually fucking everything running through my head. I mean to the point of being all, "Why am I such an asshole?" to "That was pretty fucking embarassing,' to yeah pretty much my analysis of the day to everything.

It's the flight of ideas, though I do have to say all connected. Otherwise? Symptom of schizophrenia.

I always knew that my undergrad degree in psych would come in handy.

So here's the thing. When it gets to the point of me berating myself about something I'm later embarassed about or thinking of something embarassing or being pissed about something, and this may just be because I'm getting too used to living by myself, I have realized that I'll say it out loud.

And like really fucking loud.

Then I'll realize, wow, not only is my head constantly running about something that I shouldn't be wasting the energy on, but now? Now I fucking sound crazy too! I mean I've always done the mutter under the breath, you know the motivational, maybe it's over here and I just haven't checked yet, to a 'you can totally get this paper done in time karen' to you know mutterings of fuck and shit under the breathe. This is just a massive step further.

Awesome.

I mean, other people do do this. Right?

what scares me...

is the new virulent strain found in New York of the HIV virus that supposedly kills the host quicker than previously seen.

Scarier? The seemingly same virus strain has been found in San Diego. Across the entire fucking country.

My fear?

The Bush administration is going to use this to condemn the gay culture, and gay men. Use it as a reason to get involved in gay mens' private lives and lifestyles; something that they have no right to do.

Outspoken and recognized figures in the gay community are speaking out that they need to apply more drastic tactics to cut down the tina and the sex parties as a result. Plus the lackadaisical approach to actually getting the virus now.

Said tactics include going to sex parties and confronting users and members as well as trying to shut down websites about the sex parties and crystal use.

I say, anything that can work. Another plague is unnecessary and absolutely tragic.

Don't give the Bush administration the opportunity to get involved and make tragic rules affecting their private lives.

cbf is coming, cbf is coming!

I'm so excited I could squeel with joy, which you know, I did.

This weekend is going to be gay-tastic!

I'm still preparing a response for the fabulous weekend, but there is pressure. For as of yet unnickamed friend came to visit for the weekend. Which, you know, was the reason that it was bundles of fun.

The problem? Said friend kept on mentioning that she couldn't wait to read her nickname. Fuck. I mean, I haven't exactly been digging the mines of originality for nicknames...Stretch. Shortie? Yeah.

Pressure people. Pressure. I feel I now need to come up with an appropriately awesome nickname for said friend because she deserves one. Dammit.

Now lately CBF and I have been planning to get together, but one of us would end up cancelling due to monetary constraints. So it's never good to be excited before the plans are totally final. In fact, we've searched for this weekend three seperate times but he bought the tickets today! YAY! I've even ordered gay fuel for the weekend, which I've been dying to try. Though knowing the website where I ordered my awesome dirty! shirts from, they won't be here in time.

Nothing like spending $16 for just 5 energy drinks. Though how awesome is it that the website plays awesome queer dance club music. I'm jamming out to it right now.

The problem with being entirely ecstatic about the weekend means that it can't come soon enough. Today's only Tuesday, right?

I'm going to go home and cuddle up to my TiVo which is finally working. Thank the lord, sweet jesus! TiVo bad. Reading good. I'm going to have to TiVo everything tonight and speed through everything else.

The first thing I put on my Season Pass? The function where it will automatically record said programs any time they are on without prompting.

the L Word.

Second show? The Golden Girls.

Fucking awesome! I'm going to have to schedule my other shows and make sure they don't coincide, and rank them as well.

I'm going to fail out of grad school now.

Fuck.

happy valentine's day

I figured I needed just a post; because the other post might make me sound desperate and depressed on this day.

And, you know? Today has actually been a really good day.

I've been perky, I've been happy, I've been giggly.

I think it's because I have a phone date with CBF after class tonight. And CBF, after recieving my fabulous Valentine's card was back on the coming train for this weekend which would just fucking rock.

Giggly and perky all fucking day. Previously Grouchy Showrunner who has turned into Fabulously Friendly and Helpful Showrunner saw me doing that run down the hallway, you know that one where you're five and you aren't running to run fast but bouncing and kicking your feet up high so they almost kick your ass? He was all, ooh, dancing in the hallway. And I corrected him that I was doing a bouncy run to try and stay energized for class. He mentioned that I could just nap until class.

This place is so fucking productive.

Happy Valentine's Day and share the love with everybody on this day!!

am i trying to kill myself

I woke up at 7am this morning as if from a coma.

An alcohol coma perhaps.

So my TV was on, on mute, my lights were on, I was wearing my 'relaxing' outfit which is essentially my track pants and a shirt, and there was still shit on my bed like my backpack and letters.

As I walked to get some water out of the fridge I realized there was heat emanating from my oven. What the fuck? Why is it warm, that's weird. As I walked back and leaned closer I realized that my gas oven was on.

Fuck.

Did I turn it on last night, or has it been on for two days since I last remember using it?

What is wrong with me?

The last time something like this happened I had been out with CB and girlfriend for what started as a Guiness pub crawl and ended with the three of us. Everyone else dropped off like flies. I killed two people with my mad Irish Car Bomb skills and had had a plethora of beer.

Overall it had been an awesome evening.

It seems though that by the time I had gotten home I was hungry, quelle fucking suprise! seeing as we met straight after work and I decided to only spend my money on drinks and not food. I hate spending money on food in a bar because it's so fucking expensive and liquor is expensive enough.

I digress. So by the time I got home I decided I would make pasta. Waited for the water to boil and then put the pasta in.

The next thing I know I'm waking up, in pretty much the same way that I did this morning, lights ablaze, TV on, though with sound, and generally passed out on top of my blankets.

Except this time, there was this acrid plastic burned smell in my apartment. I started freaking out because I realized I must have left something on the burner. So I launch myself off of my bed and go skidding into the kitchen.

On my burner is the pot, with the pasta inside, congealed together and charcoal black. The bottom of the pot is completely black from the flames, as is much of the area around the pasta. The smell even stronger. I clearly turn the pot off and open the windows as fast as I can.

Nothing happening. I feel nauseous from the stench. I don't think I can do it justice how horrible it was. I prop open my door to get a draft in my apartment because there is no wind. For the first time ever of course. As soon as the pot is cool enough I bring it to the garbage disposal to toss and hopefully help get rid of the smell.

After having the door propped for 10 minutes or so, one of the handy dudes knocks on my door and is all you need to close your door because the smell is setting off the smoke alarms. I was like, oooh, okay, and seriously? Thank god, because that would have been embarassing.

Later that same day there actually is a fire alarm that goes off in my building. Of course this is bad because I essentially live in an old people's home. I mean an alarm with old people that can't really move? Why don't you just kill them right away? I of course am freaking out that it's me. CB and his girlfriend are over and I'm all, we need to walk around the corner. I'm positive that they're going to come out of the building and be all "Apartment #, Apartment #" and chastise me in front of everyone, giving me a citation for being a bad resident, and generally just be really embarassed. So I hid around the corner. Everyone was pissed too because we had to wait for like 20 minutes to get back into the building.

Turns out there really was a fire in the elevator.

Now THAT was a relief.

I couldn't get the smell out of my apartment for weeks. Or my clothes for weeks either. I smelled like I had been on a camping trip with fucking plastic as the firewood. It was fucking awful! I tried all sorts of products to get the smell out. Oust should have a fucking disclaimer saying that they can't take the smell of burn out. Oh wait. I just did that for them. It was was especially since smell is most definitely my strongest sense.

I vowed from that day on that I would never try and cook something on the burner when I was drunk.

Luckily?

An empty burning oven doesn't smell.

I guess I learned a new lesson.

it's a disease

It's like the caffeine and money Olympics! Take 2!

I have a slight gambling problem, in that once I start. I can't really stop. I mean we aren't talking spending thousands or even hundreds of dollars because I could never do that. Put me near a slot machine, and I'm fucked.

In college we would go to the Mohegan Sun reservation and gamble. One time I lost $20 in like 20 minutes. This was a considerable amount of money considering that I had about $95 for the month.

I know that it is only because there are periodic reinforcements when you'll get at least one or two quarters back, and I crave that rush of winning let's say 6, 7, or more. I long for that rush of whippeee I've won money. And clearly because it is just the slot machines I tend to randomly not do too well because I'll spend money, but not enough to ever get that big pay-off.

Plus? I'm just fucking unlucky. I went to AC, Atlantic City for those not in the know, with Stretch and another friend one weekend and they all left with surplus money while again. I was the only one who lost $20. I'm not going to lie. I was sort of pissed that Stretch won like fifty fucking dollars. What. the. Fuck?

When I go home to visit my mom I tend to have a lay-over in The Vegas, and there are of course The Slot Machines in all of the lobbies. So of course because I'm bored I'll tend to play them. Amazingly enough, last time I left with six extra dollars. Though another time I lost 10 dollars in like 10 minutes.

Pulling that damn tantalizing slot lever, or the even quicker way of spending your money, by pushing the button is just too much to resist. I also know it's because I'll never wager more than a dollar that I'm able to continue. I can rationalize those amounts in my head.

When Pepsico last year decided that you can potentially win a song when buying the 20 oz. bottles from iTunes? It was ridiculous. I would suddenly buy multiple bottles a day because I can spend my time peering from the side trying to figure out if it's a winner or not. I had, I would say about a 70% positive rate. That still meant I spent so much money on drinking fucking Pepsi. My Cranky Co-worker would often come with me to CVS to make my purchases and mock me horrendously.

Once she was done though. She'd ask, no demand, that I pick her out a winner as well. All whilst saying that I was embarassing her.

I was addicted to the rush of getting a free song. A. Free. Song.

Any. Song.

It began my iTunes obsession.

In the end I had 17 songs. I don't even want to contemplate how much extra money I spent on Diet Pepsi, nor the amount of Diet Pepsi I drank. I was actually switched from a DC lifer, Diet Coke for those not in the know, to a Diet Pepsi person.

How often do those switches happen?

Unfortunately. The promo is back.

That means I'm back to drinking multiple 20 oz. bottles a day to win a song.

Unfortunately, I believe I've lost some mojo. But. In my defense, Pepsi has switched it up some, killing my mojo. Now, there are caps with buy one get one free.

I've gotten three of those, and only 2 songs. And 2 bad seeds.

My insides are rotting with all the preservatives of fake sugars and caffeine.

Or. I'm going to die, and they won't need to embalm me because my insides will preserved for the next two years.

My teeth will most likely have rotted out though.

At least I'll have fucking awesome music for my guests to rock out to.

it's starting to hurt now

So fucking Verizon isn't sure when exactly my DSL will be ready to be turned on.

So I have my boxes of TiVo and DSL software at home, with no potential in site of when it will be turned on. It was supposed to be turned on Thursday, but through the website I saw that indeed they were very sorry, but due to unforseen circumstances, they had no idea when it was going to be turned on.

What?

The fuckers. Like they really give flying shit. They didn't even bother to email me. And the website essentially is like, we don't want to talk to you. So email us or fuck off.

Bastards.

Then when reading my instruction booklet for TiVo last night, because I figured I should at least be familiar with the hardware by the time I set it up, I noticed that I didn't have a USB cord or USB port in my fancy new wireless thingy majig.

Fuck.

So I asked my fabulously friendly Wooster boy in house about what to do. He was all, yeah you have to buy a wireless USB port adapter. What?

Dammit.

I've been looking around all day and essentially the cheapest it's going to be is $58. What the fuck people? It's now starting to really hurt how much I'm paying for all of this. Now I'm starting to think I'm a fucktard for deciding to do all of this. I mean, I could've fucking bought an iPod for sure now.

At least a mini.

I'm going to have to seriously make sure that I mail in my rebate as soon as I hook my TiVo up and get the numbers for registering it.

This TiVo thing better be worth it as well. FFWB does say that once you go TiVo you can't go back.

That better be true.

I'm going to need to live like a monk for the next couple of months.

Fuck.

Dunkin' Donuts Update: There is a Dunkin' Donuts in DC. I. Know. And it's somewhat nearby. I thought I was going to pass out from excitement. Fucking. AWESOME!

if you're as obsessed as us

There is Dunkin' Donuts love, and there is Dunkin' Donuts LOVE.

For some reason, if you went to my college, by the time you graduated you'd be obsessed with Dunkin' Donuts.

And do you know why?

Because it's fucking awesome!

Post graduation, in a world where there isn't a Dunkin's nearby, it becomes discussion fodder. When Stretch threw a dinner party one evening when we still were roomies, and essentially everyone around the table was a grad. Plus my friend's boyfriend. We had consumed copius amounts of wine and were all happy. It was after dinner and we were all discussing that it was such bullshit that they didn't have a Dunkin's in the district.

How could there be such a fucking travesty? We then told Dunkin' stories. Essentially, remember when it would 3 in the morning and you'd go to the Dunkin's and there would be the rude, mulleted lesbians with like 6 teeth total and you'd order the coffee? The large iced coffee with little ice so you can drink a gallon of coffee that will, or should keep you up at night?

Yes, those were the good days. I'm still obsessed with Dunkin's. I have some of the flavored grounds but it's just not the same. I don't know if it was the awesome hick staff that always pervaded the small ones in New England or what, but they aren't even the same in the suburbs of VA. I think it's because they aren't just Dunkin's but a chain with the sandwhich shop and 31 Flavors.

We decided that dinner party evening that we should open a Dunkin's. Clearly with the liquid loquaciousness the plan was discussed ad nauseum. It was the greatest conversation ever. My friend's boyfriend was just sitting there bored as can be as he went to school where there was no Dunkin's.

We all still love the Dunkin's and make sure to talk about it, even when some people like Stretch have constant access now. It's something to talk about. And we aren't the only ones. Because the best blog site ever has been created about Dunkin' Donuts.

Fucking awesome!

living a lifestyle i can't afford

I don't know what came over me today.

I'm probably fucked, but I'm hoping that my 'annual increase' will cover my new costs.

It's stupid. I'm having to spend an enormous amount of money in the upcoming months, and who knows still about the hospital bills from the car accident.

You know how sometimes all it takes is one small thing, like a splinter in a dam and suddenly it just splits and all the fucking water just comes pouring out and flooding a small town, leaving it in ruins.

Yeah, that's my financial ruins.

I was having lunch with co-workers and one mentioned how TiVo was going to be bought out, and then Caren busts out all, oh my brother and sister-in-law are trying to sell one. Let me know if anyone would be interested. Of course, it was just Monday where I was telling CBF that I really fucking wanted one, but that it was $300. From what my bus classmate said. She mentioned it would only be $180 with a $100 rebate. So only $80.

Of course I'm infamous for never actually filling out the rebates.

Cheaper than an immediate iPod.

So of course, I'm immediately all, I'll take it!

Of course there are more hitches in the system. A TiVo needs to update new information every evening, and my other co-worker said he didn't actually know anyone with dial-up where it worked.

Clearly, along with the montly subscription I'm now going to have to update to non-dail-up.

So. I signed up for DSL with Verizon, and they give you this deal where they give you a wireless hub for free.

FREE!!!!

This means I can now finally fucking use wireless in my apartment.

As I was bouncing around the office excited about all my new purchases, another co-worker, boobies mctit, was all, did you know a person who has TiVo watches an extra 2 hours a day?

Fuck me.

I don't have an extra 2 hours a day to watch with all of my schoolwork. Oh well.

I think the worst is going to be the internet. I'm really fucked now.

She should have been all, did you know if you have wireless DSL that you'll be spending an extra 4 hours a day on the internet?

That! Would apply to me.

I'm getting wireless and TiVo bitches!!!

Awesome!

isn't it close to impossible to kill bamboo?

Bamboo, the ultra trendy plant, or whatever it is, would seemingly be a perfect plant.

It doesn't seem to need any light, you can use it as dressing in your beta fish bowl, and you don't even need to water it that often.

I've somehow killed my bamboo.

How is that possible?

I am usually just not good with plants. I have no green thumb, though I do seem to have a death thumb, but you know I've won many a thumb wars with. Which you know, means no gangreen for me! Wooht!

I had a plant in high school which I named after my crush at the time, and rather sadly has lived longer than my crush who died two years ago from leukemia. Benjamin, and that's pronounced in the German way as Ben-ya-min, because he was German and I speak it, so you know...is actually flourishing amazingly well. The plant is taller than me now and really is like this mini tree in our dining room. I still can't believe my family moved it to Germany after graduation, but then my step-mom always did like the plant.

Essentially? The only plant that I didn't kill, and not only that, but did an awesome job in growing.

The Amazon that was doubling as a supposed house with furnishings when we first moved to DC? Didn't water the plants because I would kill them. The threat of having to pay for these expensive plants definitely kept me away.

Now I've killed the unkillable. Stretch left me her bamboo when she left town, and they were perfectly happy and flourishing. I was excited. Lovely, living decorations for free. Plus, doesn't everyone have bamboo nowadays? Stretch warned me not to overwater them. Which I was careful of.

The problem? I was in such a hung-over, frantic haze previous to leaving for break that I forgot to check the water level before I left.

I came back to brown, shriveled bamboo. There's like one stalk that is still healthy.

I've tried resuscitating them by watering them. Like plants can come back to life after death.

It's all so very sad.

I'm a fucking plant killer.