Sick of being Sick

I've watched so much TV in the last few days I feel my brain oozing out of my ears (though that may be the ear infection . . . I'm not entirely sure).
I watched 10 minutes of Jersey Shore, that's approximately 8 minutes more than the first time I sat down to watch, and that was 10 minutes too many. While MTV's "TrueLife" that focused on the Shore a few years back (every one remembers Tommy and his "woobie") was informative and relatively true, almost anything that MTV turns out nowadays is pure and utter over-produced crap.
"Millionaire Matchmaker" was down right hilarious. Everyone, millionaire or not, should listen to Patti. LOVE HER!!!!!
"Criminal Minds" is always a pleasure. Always.
I was stoked to be home and snug as a bug in a rug waiting for NBC's Thursday's lineup. Then the power went out. Fuck you National Grid.
I slept through most of the last four days but I'll never forget Patti the Matchmaker quoting Judge Judy, "Beauty fades, dumb is forever." Amen sisters.
Speaking of strong women (well she may be a man, the jury is still out) Miss M is moving on. We'll be without a head manager next week but I'm interested to see who they get to fill her shoes.

Anyways, my little brother just came home and I'm going to force him to listen to this song while I use his computer to "pay my bills."




What? It's just a little girl power music . . . next on the annoying him list is the Spice Girls.

First Jam of 2010

I would have gone!!!!!



Haven't found him yet either . . .


I wish I could say I didn't understand but I completely do.



Thanks.

I have a new husband.



Update: Praying Mantis, by Jim Carroll

Dinner with good friends

She asked me how I do it. Sit across the table from men who have hurt me without wanting to scream and cry. She asked me how I could even stand to look at them let alone remain sociable. I told her it wasn't easy. I just keep in mind that they, too, are coming from a world of hurt that I may not understand, but everyone understands pain, understands emotional devastation no matter its source.

I know how to express myself. Quite honestly I just haven't found the right time and what happens sitting across from "these men" is I'm often left wondering if the words I've always intended for them are actually meant for them. I may just be a female version of Voltaire's famous character Candide. At any rate, gender aside, the moral of the tale still stands, "Cultivate your garden."

You have a name, now find your damn telos.

Sid Haig

Why are you so amazing?





Highlights from his imdb page:
Che! (1969)
THX 1138 (1971)
Foxy Brown (1974)
Jackie Brown (1997)
And y'all know about the Rob Zombie flicks . . .

There were a shit ton more TV series he's had parts in. Besides "Jason of Star Command" which I was not alive to enjoy, his prolific career in the television biz includes pop culture favorites such as "Get Smart," "Dukes of Hazzard," "Amazing Stories," "Gunsmoke," "the A-Team," "MacGyver," "Batman" (the original series), "Fantasy Island," "Star Trek," and "Charlie's Angels." (Oh yeah, and "Just the Ten of Us" and "T.J. Hooker!!") The man is a beast.

Treadmill Fall

My iPod has been out of commission for sometime now. It's forced me to look through old CD's I made in the early 00's to listen to when I work out. One of these CD's started with Nina Simone's "Feeling Good" then a few old school Destiny Child's songs later . . . this song came on. As Jordan would say, "I almost busted my face" because I started laughing so hard I tripped over my own feet on the treadmill. Thanks Daddy Yankee. Had I died listening to your song, I would have haunted you from the after life.

Heard this version of "Home" at the hairdresser's the other day. Sorry Frenchie, Blake does it better.

Dance, Dance, Dance

Still every morning when I wake up.

If you wanna know

This song is exactly how I feel.
Not entirely sure of the songs lyrics, but I've been so diffuse lately I think the first statement would be true no matter what the words of the song actually happen to be. I posted it before, but here it is again with renewed appreciation.





Hey . . . yeah

And for good times sake more Alice Smith.

Saturday Night Lullaby

Shirley Time ;)

I'm starting a union at Marshalls while finishing my last two classes this semester.
Theoretically moving in with two of my little brothers in April.
Applying for a few jobs through here.

Fever? Cool? Everyone Wang Chung . . .

I woke up with this song in my head this morning.

I also woke up with a fever and hives covering my neck and cheek (I promptly took Benadryl and went back to sleep).

What the hell kind of day is this going to be?

Last night my manager told me about how she got to see Tom Waits live. I tried to one up her crazy Waits stories with this story about Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

Roll down to the X, Y, Z of it

Shouldn't we all love Dinah Washington?

To never lean on what will bend

Well sometimes xkcd gets deep.

And I miss having regular access to a computer because I miss things like this.







Love her.

Books, books, and more books

Dear America,
I am impressed by your expansive literary appetite. I love that it encompasses all extremes. I am even more impressed by the incredible understanding of most literary critical theory. The discussions that go on in those college campus classes are only ever lacking in one area: listening. My heart is deeply broken to find out that the average college student is more in love with the sound of his own voice, more impressed with the volumes of his own knowledge and more interested in proving his own points than he is with learning the views of his fellow students. Do me a favor, America? Stop ruining the plot of books or book series. Thank you Orson Scott Card snot for proving how much you love the series in the SciFi section of Borders by summarizing about what 10 novels or something like that. I'm sure had I actually been listening to you I'd be more pissed at you. A simple, "Yeah, I like the series, I hope you do too" would have fucking sufficed. I think the whole big boob thing works for me when I want to play vapid. Fearing what my new book friend might say when my hand went for the Neil Gaiman, I turned to him and said, "Oh, it isn't for me. It's for my little brother. He likes all that space stuff . . . " I love the SciFi nerd scoff. It's far more interesting than most scoffs. It usually involves this whole upper body movement I'm never quite prepared for, followed immediately by the shaking of the head and the eyes always falling directly on me. Trust me America, I'm someone who rarely ever says or does the right thing according to most, I get scoffed at a lot. I am a "scoffing" expert.
Tell me about your family, tell me how you felt about your college roommate, tell me something I can't find in a book. Or better yet, if you must tell me about a book, tell me how it makes you feel. Tell me your name and ask me mine. Oh please America. You're failing, miserably.
Sincerely,
Me

But showing me this is pretty cool. Just sayin'

Longevity

Ne-Yo = yummy




Heard it while waiting for my mom at the hospital today. Thank you for playing it registration nurse.

Sometimes I feel like some of my friends are asking me what I want to do with my life because they're looking for ideas. But the questions they start to ask always seem to say more about them then my answers say about me.
"Well how much does that make?"
"How long of a program is it?"
"What will your title be?" <---- That one gets me every time. These questions are usually followed by lectures on practicality.

I think the only people who enjoy longevity in any career are the ones who have soul. While those questions are practical, they're quite arbitrary to me.




Late Registration is the last Kanye album I'll admit to liking. Graduation can go either way with me depending on my mood. 808's and Heartbreak pissed me off to the point of no return. Douchebag.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Alison Wonderland, I'm still working on my Lost hate blog, so it's just kind of funny this video is set to scenes from Lost.

Today I got a ukulele from my friend Sara in Wonderland. Best Christmas present ever . . . Palmer sticker and all.

It Should Be Noted

I made a deal with a co-worker back in 'o8. I believe the deal was I could leave work early for a date if I read Twilight. The date canceled on me, but no "takey backsies." I then tried to get out of reading Twilight by going line-dancing. Both things were eventually done (with much whining on my part). Turns out I love line-dancing and still hate Twilight and I lost track of that date long ago in a galaxy far, far away . . .

But I can't help but thanking that date, for canceling on me, that is and for not showing up several other times I might add. He texted me once the phrase, "It is what it is." Now, for anyone with half a philosophical brain, and in my case other half absent-minded professor brain, this may just be one of the decade's most mind-numbing catch phrases. It implies that a = b. But in most cases with the advent of so much technology so fast and everyone just scrambling to catch up and the age of nuance gone, "a" in one person's mind, is not the "a" in the other person's mind, likewise with "b" and what you end up with is some seemingly definitive statement of pure and utter nonsense. It implies a lack of responsibility of an outcome in some instances, and in others it's simply a response when no response is really necessary. It implies that change is or would have been impossible. Now granted, there are instances where this phrase is appropriate, but it wasn't then, in my mind. However, being how things are now, I am glad that "it was what it was." (Past tense completely appropriate.) Given the option, mistakes and all, I wouldn't have changed a God damn thing.

Including the fact, that last year on the eve of New Year's Eve, I didn't take my phone with me to work out. I left it in the family room. My brother told me he heard it ring regularly then it did some odd thing where it only rang once and went straight to voice mail. Ah, well, it is what it is, I suppose.

Screw 'o9, you're getting old. Happy New Year's.

Oh, and excuse my brutal rape of grammar, I'm no editor.

Post Secret Goodness

Oh Honey, ask him yourself. Or better yet, ask his cuter friend.
It's too good of a movie to wait to see because of a stupid boy.



Hell yeah.



So true . . .