Shore leave

Stuff on the Intarwebs that you should know about [1]:

"Alternate Titles for House of Flying Daggers" (McSweeney’s)

  • "House of Whoop-de-shit, More Bamboo"

"Musical Numbers From Fight Club! The Musical" (McSweeney’s)

  • "Bob Had Bitch Tits (reprise)"

"Where The F*ck Is Carmen Sandiego?" (CollegeHumor)

"Gumshoes: we have any leads?"

"Chief, she sneaks around the world from Kiev to Carolina. No fingerprints, no DNA… bitch is a ghost."

"What’s our best intel?"

"Our mole inside the V.I.L.E. henchmen? Says Carmen’s been eating a *lot* of eggrolls lately."

"What to do in an emergency"

  • "If you spot terrorism, blow your anti-terrorism whistle. If you are Vin Diesel, yell really loud."

"Casual Encounters: Episode 6" (Atom Films)

"I’ve had so much sex I’ve gone through four pairs of testicles."

[1] Stupid dangling prepositions. Stupid colloquialism.


Reason No. 59872 Why Myspace* Annoys The Shit Out Of Me

Because eventually, one day (optimistically), I’m going to have to deal with the Change of Status Situation. And I can already guess what an enjoyable conversation THAT’S going to entail:

"So… should I be changing my status?"


"My status. On Myspace**. Should I, you know… change it?"



"To?" (Because hey, men can be pretty freaking clueless)

"Um. ‘In a Relationship’?"

"Oh." [insert awkward silence]

Yeah, I’m *really* looking forward to that day.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve never really gotten the hang of identifiying this transition, the point at which someone goes from "that guy/girl I’m seeing" to "my boyfriend/girlfriend." There was that one time in college when I found out sort of by accident that we had progressed into the significant-other phase, but for the most part, it hasn’t been until that revolutionary introduction ("X, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Lora") that I’ve ever known. Because I don’t ask. Because it really does seem to me that, if I have to ask– well, basically, I shouldn’t have to ask because I should already know. If I have to ask, if I don’t already know, then I’m probably not and we probably aren’t.

But the thing is, then, my not-knowing could be kept a secret; it wasn’t *obvious* that I didn’t know, or if I thought I knew (but was actually jumping the gun), so long as I only referred to him as "my boyfriend" to people with whom he never came into contact, I was in the clear.

Now, with Myspace, everyone and their dog’s mother’s bag of Doritos can see whether I list myself as "Single" or otherwise. If I’m dating someone and *he* thinks we’ve hit that stage and he still sees "Single" on my profile, is he going to get pissed? Or suspicious? Or worried? I don’t want that. Similarly, if I change it while he thinks we’re still in casual-dating mode, is he going to get weirded out? I don’t want that, either. GOD, MYSPACE, COULD YOU MAKE MY SOCIAL LIFE ANY MORE COMPLICATED? GOD.

But more than that, I *really* don’t want to have a stupid conversation like the one above.


*I’m on El Facelibro, but I sign in maybe once every two months.

**I know it’s spelled MySpace, with a capital "S," but I don’t like the way that looks. My lowercase "s" is deliberate. Leave me alone.

Dromedary camels only have one, which looks like a “D,” which stands for dromedary!

I like Wednesdays, perhaps for different reasons than the ones most others have. In some respects, it still *is* a "Hump Day"– the first half of the week is a slow, torturous, foot-dragging trudge uphill, but come Wednesday, it’s smooth sailing from thereon out.

But for me, Monday and Tuesday are so miserable because they’re so *empty.* Academically, Wednesday is my busiest day because that’s when labs start, so I’m in strictly student mode from dawn till dusk– and then Thursday I work from early morning to early afternoon, followed in relatively tight succession by school and blues dancing, which goes pretty late into the night. And then, hey! It’s Friday! And I love Fridays because I get to sleep in a little AND be labby (lab doesn’t start until 11:30).

Speaking of lab, it looks like I only have one lab next semester (physics). I’m kind of sad about that. Maybe I should take Chem 122 for kicks?

Wait, I’m sorry, did I actually just write that?

Somewhere, there’s a study being done on chocolate chip cookies lowering IQ, and I just made myself an ideal candidate for participation.

They’re calling to me from their plastic tub as I write this

These mini chocolate chip cookies from Sam’s Club are ruining my life. Do you know about these things? These magically bendy, chewy, chocolatey chippy delights?

I’ll admit it; I’m a baked goods snob to the core. It’s something that really can’t be helped, having grown up in my mother’s kitchen– which I mention less to indicate that I know quality than to admit that I am discriminating and picky as hell. Particularly about cookies.

*Especially* particularly about chocolate chip cookies.

And whoever was in charge of creating or choosing or whatevering this particular recipe for Sam’s Club, oh man, did those guys get it right. Sort of. I mean– I have recipes that have better flavor, but in terms of texture? These aren’t dry or crumbly, but also not so soft and moist that they taste suspiciously undercooked. They’re just *bendy.* What more can I say? They’re bendy! Bendy and chewy. Perfection.

If I sound obsessed with these cookies, it’s because I AM. I almost ditched class on Monday to buy them after I’d, out of nowhere, started thinking about them, but instead resigned myself to zoning out the lecture while fantasizing about those little circles of cookie goodness. And then booking it across campus back to the parking garage, filled with worry that I might not make it to the nearest Sam’s before they closed for the night.

For what it’s worth, the only other store-bought chocolate chip cookie that sent me into these kinds of orgasmic reveries was one I got in West Hollywood back in December from Buzz Coffee, and I actually only bought it to get my parking ticket validated, but it turned out to be quite the find. Unfortunately, (even with the help of the other girl in our party) it only got half-eaten, then stashed and forgotten in the back seat pocket of a Honda CRV. It was with a heavy heart some days later that I realized it probably got thrown out. Such a tragic demise.

Anyway. Yeah. Ruining my life. I thought actually having access to them would lessen their grip on my attention span, but no; their proximity, or even just their physical existence in my life only makes things worse. They taunt me and tempt me every goddamn second, and I would just finish them off if it would do any good, but I know better. Once they’re gone, I’ll just start missing them obsessively again. And go back to Sam’s to buy more.

See? Vicious cycle.

Somebody save me.

So partake already

It was yes!

And actually, it was a yes in formation starting all the way back in the beginning of December!

This should have been Annexed, sure, but I’m in the mood to force you into partaking, somehow, in my blissful glow.

UNLV considers “Spring Break” to just be “STUDY FOR MIDTERMS NO FUN FOR YOU!” week

I’m home, I’ve *been* home, and I think the drastic climate change screwed something up in my system because I was feeling pretty cruddy these last couple of days– today’s been better.

In case you couldn’t tell, I finally got around to doing design changes for both this… thing… and the Annex. Letters also needs to be changed, but by the time I finished the Annex redesign, I was thoroughly sick of using Photoshop. Maybe next week, Letters will get revamped– not that I ever update it anymore.

Four midterms this week and I am ill-prepared for all of them. Freaking chemistry. I just *don’t* understand how I can be kicking some sweet, sweet ass in chem lab but be struggling with the lecture– isn’t LAB supposed to be practical application of LECTURE? As in, if you don’t get what’s going on in lecture, you’re going to be mucking your way through lab? Sigh.

I’ll write about Japan once I get done editing the Flickr set… because it was a digital camera, I ended up taking over 300 pictures over the course of the week, and let me tell you: 300 pictures is a lot of pictures to have to label and tag and note. And I can’t bear to *not* label and tag and note each one of them (one of my favorite features of Flickr is notes). So, actually, they’re all up and viewable by the public, but only… 13?… of them are labeled. Because, damn, yo. 300 pictures. It’s a lot.

Also: I have to get it cleared by Advising, but I think I’ve got my classes mapped out for summer and next fall. SUPER excited. Sort of. (No Friday classes! Yay!)

A good, good send-off

Hey! I’m having a great Thursday! How about you?

I don’t believe in signs, but if I were pretending to be the kind of person who did, I would think that all of today’s signs point to GO FORTH AND HAVE YE A MARVELLOUS TYME IN JAPAN.

Because, come on. I saw wild *quail* running through the desert this morning at work, and I got to give a horse a bath! (Have you ever given a horse a bath? It’s glorious: the serenity of washing a car combined with the comical fun of giving a dog a bath.)

And I just got the call that Kipper is donedonedone and ready to be picked up.

So, yay!

[Edit: Kipper is just proving to be a stubborn, stubborn mule determined to drive one tech lead in particular, and thereby me as well, absolutely mad with frustration.

The motherboard has been replaced. The Airport card has been replaced *twice.* The antenna wires that run through the LCD screen have been replaced. (To say nothing of the optical drive and the keyboard, both of which, incidentally, have also been replaced– but they don’t play a part in the lack of functional wireless connectivity here.)

Well, anyway. I’ve got Kipper otherwise functional and ready for this trip, and that’s good enough for now.]