February 26, 2007

Better than some.

Do you ever hear snippets of a conversation and think "God, I would be bored out of my fucking skull if I had your job"?

I do.

February 22, 2007

Random thoughts . . . if you want to call them that.

Immaculate conception? Or not???? (wink wink nudge nudge)
SCORPIO (Oct. 23–Nov. 21): In the coming weeks, you'll attract cosmic assistance whenever you add to your repertoire, branch out artistically or socially, or start gathering seed money for a project that may take years to ripen. Mythically speaking, the coming weeks will also be a good time to have intimate relations with a fertility god or goddess, and to plant magic beans that will grow into a bean stalk that reaches the sky. "Is that it?" you may be asking. "Nothing but good news?!" My only caveat, which is pretty minor, is that you might add a few pounds to your frame. If you're a hetero woman, that could be caused by a pregnancy unless you're careful. --Rob Breszny, Village Voice

Don’t know how I feel about this . . .
'Grey's' spinoff in the works

No kidding . . .
The Romantic Life of Brainiacs

Word. Word. WORD.
Ferguson Speaks From The Heart

Thank Timmy for small favors!! You've made my week. (And yes, that's a wee bit pathetic. Noted. ALSO note that this is the second blog to start with a posting highlighting the pressure I put on the blogger to start said blog. Again, a little sad.)
The Calvacade of Whimsy

TOOL: Bill O'Reilly
UNTOOL: Craig Ferguson

February 13, 2007

Morning . . . already.

Is it weird to want to change places with a panda?

How is it that I could manage just fine on 3/4/5 hours of sleep in college but now I turn into a zombie if I don't get at least 7?? Must. Find. Caffeine.

February 12, 2007

Poop poopy poop.

I started a TOOL list on my office wall ages ago. See crappy little camera photo:

Included on the TOOL side are people like John Mayer (even though I own and really like his new album, he’s still a pretty big pussy, uh, tool), DJ AM, Carson Daly, Perez Hilton, P.Diddy, etc. Among the UNTOOL people are various coworkers (one can’t really put coworkers on the TOOL side as they will see TOOL list – one CAN put coworkers on internal TOOL list though), my Mum, and . . . well, that’s it so far. The mess of red marker you see is because someone did not approve of the addition of DJ AM to the TOOL list. The fight is ongoing . . . and I’m pretty sure said coworker doesn’t have a leg to stand on. I mean: DJ AM = UNTOOL??? I think my coworker might be insane.

February 9, 2007

Mindless gibberish.

I dropped off $86.85 worth of dry cleaning this morning – and that's WITH the 10% discount. This is what I get for buying "nicer clothes that will last longer" this year. Ahh well . . . (An "Ah well" is now how I deal with my money problems now – all grown-up and mature, you see.)

I have a date for Valentine' s Day!! Of course, it's with one of my best girls and I won't be getting laid at the end of it (as one ALWAYS does on a date – am I right?!) BUT it's a date on V-Day, nonetheless. We shall be going to see MUSIC AND LYRICS. Very excited. Very.

I'm usually all disgruntled on V-Day – "I hate this holiday! It can suck it!" type stuff. But, in truth, it's really a lovely little day. I mean, you should tell people you love them every day yadda yadda yadda, but this is the one day that you get to make a real ass out of yourself with the love crap! I mean, come on! Fun! I will be finding appropriately ridiculous gifts for the niecy and nephew, and will spoil my Mummy with something shiny. I’ve decided to turn over a new attitude leaf this year. Just because I don’t have the love of my life now (not counting my DVR) doesn’t mean I won’t have him next V-Day! Word.

And, if my history is anything to show for my lovelife, well, big things are to come.

POSTED LAST YEAR ON OLD BLOG (the one I took down during a "I don't care about anything!" phase – it was great): 2.14.05

Top three men of 2005 . . . a V-Day treat:

1. There was, um, some guy whose name started with a D. Devon? Christ, I can't remember. Not important. Anyhoo, Devon and I, we met at a bar (go figure). He was the bouncer, I was the DJ. Kidding. He was the bouncer and I was one of the classy bar attendees. (I mean, who isn't classy at a place where the waitresses blows a whistle before serving a drink? Class-sssyyyy). So, this bouncer, Devon(???) and I started talking after I eye-effed him. That's right. Classy AND drunk. For some godforsaken reason I give him my number right before walking out the door. AND I put his number in my phone. We were definitely going to talk again! Over the next 2 days *TWO DAYS* Devon calls me 10 (or so) times, leaving only 2 messages – which I had yet to return. I suppose he was pretty upset by the 11th call b/c he dumped me. I was dumped over the phone by some guy I never dated. He asked me why I gave him my number if I wasn’t going to talk to him. Uh, I’ll give you three guesses, stalker.

2. AW. AW, the detective I met when my sister was mugged. (That’s right I turned a bad situation into a good one . . . for me.) OK, so we didn’t really date. At least, I didn’t call the times we hung out “dating.” Apparently, he did. There was a period of, oh, say, 9 months when I didn’t see him but he’d call every few weeks to say hello and check in. Really liked him, he was a nice guy. However, I wasn’t interested in being anything more than his friend, unfortunately. Never had that spark AND he was shorter than me (probably still is), which of course means that I’m not interested. Because, I’m a shallow bitch. I think he wanted a wife. He already had a house in Florida and a 14 year old (17 year old??) kid, so what more would he want? I can’t be positive. He decided to just come out and tell my voicemail one day how he really felt (what is it with me and my voicemail?), and it went a little something like this: “Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to say hello, and how’re you doing and, well, I don’t want to keep it a secret any longer . . . I love you.” And, buh bye.

3. RM. (Don’t you just love the initials?? Like they’re going to read this and be all “WOAH!”). Oh, RM. We had fun. Book parties rock for meeting people . . . aka, making out big-time post-party. Or so I’ve learned. RM is QUITE a bit older, owns his own company, has a house in the Hamptons, runs with the socialites, is everything I mock, etc. He makes me laugh. Were still in touch . . . if you know what I mean.

All class. All the time.

February 6, 2007

Oh, I've been in the lowlands too long.

I have checked Missed Connections three times (no wait, four times) today. I had an amazing Missed Connection last night on the bus.

I gave up on my daily walk home last night because I’m fond of my toes. (If you haven’t noticed, it’s cold as fuck outside. How cold is fuck, you ask? Um, go outside.) Got on the good old bus to get home and managed to squeeze my way through everyone to get to the back of the bus. Once there, a quite handsome young man with a guitar (I’m sure it’s a gorgeous instrument) motioned at me that the seat next to him was free. A “you want to sit down” gesture.



Yup, didn’t hear his reply as my earphones were still in my my ears. *Crap crap crappity crap* So, I just smiled and said “Thanks!” again. Quick. On. My. Feet. And witty, don’t forget witty.

The bus started moving again and I took my earphones out and got out a maggy. *LIKE I’M REALLY READING. HELLO!!! SAY SOMETHING!!* You could cut the tension with a knife.

I could sense that he wanted to say something to me and of course I wanted to say something to him BUTTTTT . . . I didn’t. Why? Because, I’m a giant asshole.

Instead, a few stops later, he got up and walked off the bus. BUT not before looking around at me and giving me a big smile.



All I know is that I’m riding the bus home more often. Of course, I’m going to have to be careful with my eye-effing. I had another “eye-catch” at the end of the ride but THIS bussy had some awfully bloodshot eyes and, well, there’s only room for one drunk in Muggyland.

The Talented.

Dear Mr. Gyves,

I have always found your photography skills to be, quite frankly, above the snuff. Much to my pleasure, you have created a way to share your lovely photos with me (and I suppose others) on a more frequent basis: quickstuff.

I thank you. We all do.


P.S. Love the second "tables" image. Love.