Most everyone knows about this already since I tend to broadcast every little event of my life out into the world via Facebook, Twitter (which I still haven't fully figured out the point of, by the way), or just from one of my outbursts, like the one I had today discovering the newest "author" to be published with Harper Collins:
"HARPER COLLINS IS PUBLISHING SARAH fucking PALIN'S BOOK WHILE AVON REJECTED ME?!?!?!"
The "fucking" is in lowercase since I was at work at didn't feel comfortable saying it loudly. Just consider it to come out sounding more like "fumcdging" since I also tried to muffle it and ended up sounding like Joe Pesci in Home Alone.
So, there's the news. I got my first rejection letter. Or, should I say, my first rejection email. I wasn't surprised or anything. I assumed Avon wouldn't want me since they're one of their most well-known publishers of romance fiction, but it still hurt.
I mean, would it have killed them to address the thing with "Dear Crystal" rather than "Dear Writer"? Of course, they apologized about the informality of the letter since they're so swapped with query letters.
Oh, I'm sorry, Avon. I hate that you're so busy killing authors' dreams that you can't bloody personalize a soul-crushing email.
Bastards.
Okay, they're probably not really bastards. But, I'm not sure since Avon falls under the Harper Collins umbrella, and Harper Collins is publishing Sexy Sarah's book. And I know that publishing companies take on the big names like Sarah Palin and Lauren Conrad (yes, I just grouped those two together and no, I don't think it's a far stretch... and that's not supposed to be complimentary for either person) for book deals partly because the money generated can be used to publish lesser known and new authors. I get that. I SO get that. However, I would be more likely to support it if they would publish this new author.
Or if they decided to publish someone other than Sarah Palin. Like, if they published Chelsea Handler's books, for example. Or if I became famous and they published my books... which would be fucking awesome. I choose that option.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
cover letters and the one size fits all thong.
I'm trying to write a cover letter for a job application. Well, I should say I was trying to write a cover letter for a job application. Turns out I don't have a very long attention span.
At least the resume is done. Well, mostly done. Sort of. And I still need two more references, and to ask the other reference if I can use her as a reference. Did I mention that this job application closes October 4? Eep.
Gah, this thing is miserable to write. It's so narcissistic and nothing but a page full of bragging. And I don't do that well! You who know me know that my self-esteem is in the garbage underneath rotten banana peels and leftover Chinese food. And, yes, I know how to do this job I'm applying for well, really well. But to go on and on and rave about how well I know it? That makes me hate myself a little inside. I mean, I'm going to write it. I have to.
But I'm not going to like it.
But I will say that I DO like involuntarily being on Victoria's Secret's mailing list to get on the sweet deals they offer. Seriously, if you're a girl, it's not a bad idea to get on Victoria's Secret's mailing list. Or if you're a dude who wants to buy his gal some skimpy undies. Or if you're a dude who just likes to wear skimpy undies (hey, who am I to judge?). In the past two months, I've received two coupons for free undies from Victoria's Secret with no purchase necessary, not to mention rebates and other discounts.
No purchase necessary. Come on, you guys. That means "free", which translates into "awesome".
The most recent free pair of undies are thongs. I'm not a fan of thongs in general, but you can bet that I am not about to turn down free anything. Especially not a free pair of panties that normally cost $16. That's just madness - both parts, the thought of rejecting them and them being sixteen bucks.
During yesterday's excursion to the mall (where I spent $60 total 0n a pair of Levi jeans, a jacket, two button-up shirts, and nine tank tops; feel free to be impressed), I went in to redeem the free thong. The over-courteous sales lady pointed me in the direction of a table full of thongs. I picked the color I wanted and went to look for my size but, and this totally threw me, they were all marked one-size-fits-all.
One size fits all. This is underwear, not a fucking scarf, Victoria's Secret.
I'm still completely baffled by this because, honestly, there's no way those things are truly "one size fits all". I trust you've seen their mannequins in shop windows - a pair of undies that fits those things that look like no actual human woman is not going to "fit all". I got my free pair anyway, just to see if they would really fit... and because they were free.
Well, they do fit. But, really, they're not "one size fits all". I mean, they're not going to fit everyone. And, I don't know, but I feel like some angry woman who has just had the last shred of her self-esteem tap-danced on by looking through a recent issue of Vogue with its stick-like models that have been airbrushed to pieces could roll up into Victoria's Secret, buy a pair of these so-called 'one size fits all' undies and go home to find that they don't fit. And, in a fit of rage, she could probably sue for false advertising... or kill people, but I like to think that no one out there would go on a killing spree over underwear. That would just be ridiculous. And can you imagine the headlines? Angry Woman Gets Her Panties in a Twist ... What's Up Her Butt? ... Woman Gets Cheeky with a Shotgun ... Boxers or Bullets? ...
Shit. Now I want someone to sue Victoria's Secret just so I can see these headlines come to life.
At least the resume is done. Well, mostly done. Sort of. And I still need two more references, and to ask the other reference if I can use her as a reference. Did I mention that this job application closes October 4? Eep.
Gah, this thing is miserable to write. It's so narcissistic and nothing but a page full of bragging. And I don't do that well! You who know me know that my self-esteem is in the garbage underneath rotten banana peels and leftover Chinese food. And, yes, I know how to do this job I'm applying for well, really well. But to go on and on and rave about how well I know it? That makes me hate myself a little inside. I mean, I'm going to write it. I have to.
But I'm not going to like it.
But I will say that I DO like involuntarily being on Victoria's Secret's mailing list to get on the sweet deals they offer. Seriously, if you're a girl, it's not a bad idea to get on Victoria's Secret's mailing list. Or if you're a dude who wants to buy his gal some skimpy undies. Or if you're a dude who just likes to wear skimpy undies (hey, who am I to judge?). In the past two months, I've received two coupons for free undies from Victoria's Secret with no purchase necessary, not to mention rebates and other discounts.
No purchase necessary. Come on, you guys. That means "free", which translates into "awesome".
The most recent free pair of undies are thongs. I'm not a fan of thongs in general, but you can bet that I am not about to turn down free anything. Especially not a free pair of panties that normally cost $16. That's just madness - both parts, the thought of rejecting them and them being sixteen bucks.
During yesterday's excursion to the mall (where I spent $60 total 0n a pair of Levi jeans, a jacket, two button-up shirts, and nine tank tops; feel free to be impressed), I went in to redeem the free thong. The over-courteous sales lady pointed me in the direction of a table full of thongs. I picked the color I wanted and went to look for my size but, and this totally threw me, they were all marked one-size-fits-all.
One size fits all. This is underwear, not a fucking scarf, Victoria's Secret.
I'm still completely baffled by this because, honestly, there's no way those things are truly "one size fits all". I trust you've seen their mannequins in shop windows - a pair of undies that fits those things that look like no actual human woman is not going to "fit all". I got my free pair anyway, just to see if they would really fit... and because they were free.
Well, they do fit. But, really, they're not "one size fits all". I mean, they're not going to fit everyone. And, I don't know, but I feel like some angry woman who has just had the last shred of her self-esteem tap-danced on by looking through a recent issue of Vogue with its stick-like models that have been airbrushed to pieces could roll up into Victoria's Secret, buy a pair of these so-called 'one size fits all' undies and go home to find that they don't fit. And, in a fit of rage, she could probably sue for false advertising... or kill people, but I like to think that no one out there would go on a killing spree over underwear. That would just be ridiculous. And can you imagine the headlines? Angry Woman Gets Her Panties in a Twist ... What's Up Her Butt? ... Woman Gets Cheeky with a Shotgun ... Boxers or Bullets? ...
Shit. Now I want someone to sue Victoria's Secret just so I can see these headlines come to life.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
the great outdoors with the criminally insane
I still haven't heard anything from any of the publishers I sent query letters to. And, okay, I only sent off submission letters to three publishers because I honestly don't have the energy to pull out Jeff Herman's Guide and work on actually MAILING out letters to publishers. I prefer email submissions; they're easier, save trees, and won't get lost in the mail like my rent check from this month (thanks again, Bank, for charging me $19.75 to stop that lost check).
I also thought that I would get a faster reply through email submission. This has not been the case. My theory is that since the unemployment rate is so high, all those people that said they were going to write a book, have lost their jobs and now have the time to write and are sending off submission letters and manuscripts and such. And they're probably the ones getting published. Which is great for them. Seriously. I'm way happy when other people get published and have their dreams come true. And, yes, I'm writing that to hopefully work up some karma brownie points. Plus, I watched, like, three hours of America's Funniest Home Videos today (I have no idea why) and laughed at people getting hurt, so I feel like I've made a major withdraw from my karma deposit and need to work on getting some credit back.
But I really am truly happy for dreams coming true for people who truly deserve it. And, if you've spent the time and energy to write a novel, then you deserve to have it published, even if it does suck.
Oh my God, someone publish me before I go crazy.
Oh, and speaking of crazy, have you all seen about the "criminally insane" (CNN's words, not mine; Fox News probably said he was a crazed liberal.. have I mentioned that I hate Fox News? Yes? Okay then.) guy in Washington state that ran away during a field trip with a group from a psychiatric hospital there?
Yes, they let criminally insane people go out on poorly supervised field trips in the wilderness of Washington. Like that's a good idea, like they won't escape... just because they're criminally insane doesn't mean that they're not spry motherfuckers. And I don't really know if the field trip was in the "wilderness of Washington" but in my mind, all of Washington looks like trees, rain, and vampires roaming around saving clumsy girls (clearly, I should live in Washington since I manage to hurt myself in new ways every day). Plus, it sounds better than saying that the field trip was through a flannel shirt factory or something lame like that.
Right, back on track. The criminally insane guy, because he is a spry motherfucker, escapes from the group. They find him so many hours/days later (I was only sort of listening to the news, so sue me) with a FUCKING SICKLE in tow.
A sickle, you guys. Do you know what those things look like? Imagine Captain Hook's hook on steroids and attached to the hand of a criminally insane man in the Washington wilderness.
Yeah, fuck that.
Seriously, how is this not a horror movie? I don't really watch horror movies and even I know that this has all the classic elements of a horror movie...
Actually, it reminds me of the story that Dan Aykroyd told his twin daughters in the movie The Great Outdoors after the Uncle Chet (played by the fabulous John Candy) scares them with his tale of The Bald-Headed Killer Bear.
By God, I love this movie.
I also thought that I would get a faster reply through email submission. This has not been the case. My theory is that since the unemployment rate is so high, all those people that said they were going to write a book, have lost their jobs and now have the time to write and are sending off submission letters and manuscripts and such. And they're probably the ones getting published. Which is great for them. Seriously. I'm way happy when other people get published and have their dreams come true. And, yes, I'm writing that to hopefully work up some karma brownie points. Plus, I watched, like, three hours of America's Funniest Home Videos today (I have no idea why) and laughed at people getting hurt, so I feel like I've made a major withdraw from my karma deposit and need to work on getting some credit back.
But I really am truly happy for dreams coming true for people who truly deserve it. And, if you've spent the time and energy to write a novel, then you deserve to have it published, even if it does suck.
Oh my God, someone publish me before I go crazy.
Oh, and speaking of crazy, have you all seen about the "criminally insane" (CNN's words, not mine; Fox News probably said he was a crazed liberal.. have I mentioned that I hate Fox News? Yes? Okay then.) guy in Washington state that ran away during a field trip with a group from a psychiatric hospital there?
Yes, they let criminally insane people go out on poorly supervised field trips in the wilderness of Washington. Like that's a good idea, like they won't escape... just because they're criminally insane doesn't mean that they're not spry motherfuckers. And I don't really know if the field trip was in the "wilderness of Washington" but in my mind, all of Washington looks like trees, rain, and vampires roaming around saving clumsy girls (clearly, I should live in Washington since I manage to hurt myself in new ways every day). Plus, it sounds better than saying that the field trip was through a flannel shirt factory or something lame like that.
Right, back on track. The criminally insane guy, because he is a spry motherfucker, escapes from the group. They find him so many hours/days later (I was only sort of listening to the news, so sue me) with a FUCKING SICKLE in tow.
A sickle, you guys. Do you know what those things look like? Imagine Captain Hook's hook on steroids and attached to the hand of a criminally insane man in the Washington wilderness.
+
=
=
Yeah, fuck that.
Seriously, how is this not a horror movie? I don't really watch horror movies and even I know that this has all the classic elements of a horror movie...
Actually, it reminds me of the story that Dan Aykroyd told his twin daughters in the movie The Great Outdoors after the Uncle Chet (played by the fabulous John Candy) scares them with his tale of The Bald-Headed Killer Bear.
"I know that a terrifying story like that coming from the mouth of a recognized authority figure could be traumatizing to kids like yourselves. I know that because I had a similar situation with my Uncle Roy and a story he used to tell about a family who went into the woods and was attacked by a band of escaped Army psycho patients, who’d been subjected to violent, hellish torture behavior modification experiments. It seems they escaped from the metal boxes the Army kept them in, found this family in the woods, fell upon them, slaughtered them and ate them. Well now that story gave me nightmares not to be believed. So, no more thinking about bears, all right?"
- Roman, The Great Outdoors, 1988
- Roman, The Great Outdoors, 1988
By God, I love this movie.
Monday, September 14, 2009
not me monday
I tend to steal ideas from Shannon's blog, but I don't feel any shame in stealing the idea of "Not Me Monday" from here since she stole it from MckMama.
So, what didn't I do this fine Monday?
For one, the people who just rented the apartment above ours are unusually loud. They yell over their stupidly loud TV, they sing acapella when no one's around (after hearing what they sound like, I have also stopped singing in my own apartment when no one's around out of pure embarrassment), and, I'm not entirely sure about this, but I think they're practicing for the hurdle race in the Olympics. That, or the dropping stuff on the floor competition of the Olympics. If this is the case, then it sounds like I have some serious competition.
Anyway, last night around midnight, one of the tenants upstairs was having a phone conversation and I was able to hear every. single. word. He was also dropping something over and over again that sounded kind of like a baseball falling on hardwood floor that I happened to be buried under. Since I have to be at work early in the morning, I was trying to sleep. I definitely didn't wish that my pot smoking neighbors were still living up there. I would never approve of others doing illegal drugs just so I can get a little shut-eye.
The Bourbon Festival is coming up this weekend. For those of you not aware, the Bourbon Festival is a chance for Bardstownians to celebrate the lives created because of drunk one-night stands and to remember the lives ruined by alcoholism. Okay, that's not true... Well, it's mostly not true. Bardstown is known for its bourbon distilleries (Barton, Jim Beam, Heaven Hill, Four Roses, Maker's Mark, and so on and son on) and every September, the people of Bardstown gather behind St. Joseph Church, show off crafts, listen to the Kentucky Headhunters play (or, if you're like me, bitch about the Kentucky Headhunters playing because, really, they've played there for nearly the past ten years and why can't Bardstown get someone new? The Kentucky Headhunters bring out all the rednecks and I can't handle that), and drink in the Beer Garden. Yes, the Beer Garden is a hop and a skip away from St. Joseph's Church, the first Catholic cathedral built west of the Allegheny Mountains.
Have I mentioned that being Catholic rocks?
I definitely didn't entertain the idea of going to the Bourbon Festival and getting "drunk as shit"... and that isn't a direct quote because I would never ever even suggest the idea of drinking, especially not in mass quantities that would be termed as "binging" in college surveys.
At work today, two guys from the IT Department stopped by to install a computer for the new faculty member on our floor. Seeing as how guys my age are scarce on my floor, I definitely didn't ogle the hell out of the guys over the top of my computer screen like a creeper. Please. I have more taste and self control than that. And I didn't even think about trying to find out the guys' names by snooping around on IT's website. I'm definitely not that desperate, especially when it came to the guy with the gauged ears.
And, even more about how I'm not a creeper. Today, when I sat down to lunch and realized that I was facing my roommate's boyfriend's look-a-like (if her boyfriend had a Jew-fro, that is) I didn't even dream of the idea of taking a picture on my cell phone of him. I would never use technology to drive my point home.
Also, I am not watching Pride and Prejudice on Oxygen. I've seen it a million times and don't see any point in watching once again. I'm also not saying the lines in time with the movie. And I'm certainly not quoting the movie with a fake British accent.
Lastly, my roommate just asked if I would want to make a Steak n Shake run at 9:49 at night. I would never eat fattening foods like a strawberry shake and fries at this time of night. :)
Elizabeth: Did I just agree to dance with Mr. Darcy?
Charlotte: I dare say you will find him amiable.
Elizabeth: It would be most inconvenient since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity.
- Pride and Prejudice, 2005
So, what didn't I do this fine Monday?
For one, the people who just rented the apartment above ours are unusually loud. They yell over their stupidly loud TV, they sing acapella when no one's around (after hearing what they sound like, I have also stopped singing in my own apartment when no one's around out of pure embarrassment), and, I'm not entirely sure about this, but I think they're practicing for the hurdle race in the Olympics. That, or the dropping stuff on the floor competition of the Olympics. If this is the case, then it sounds like I have some serious competition.
Anyway, last night around midnight, one of the tenants upstairs was having a phone conversation and I was able to hear every. single. word. He was also dropping something over and over again that sounded kind of like a baseball falling on hardwood floor that I happened to be buried under. Since I have to be at work early in the morning, I was trying to sleep. I definitely didn't wish that my pot smoking neighbors were still living up there. I would never approve of others doing illegal drugs just so I can get a little shut-eye.
The Bourbon Festival is coming up this weekend. For those of you not aware, the Bourbon Festival is a chance for Bardstownians to celebrate the lives created because of drunk one-night stands and to remember the lives ruined by alcoholism. Okay, that's not true... Well, it's mostly not true. Bardstown is known for its bourbon distilleries (Barton, Jim Beam, Heaven Hill, Four Roses, Maker's Mark, and so on and son on) and every September, the people of Bardstown gather behind St. Joseph Church, show off crafts, listen to the Kentucky Headhunters play (or, if you're like me, bitch about the Kentucky Headhunters playing because, really, they've played there for nearly the past ten years and why can't Bardstown get someone new? The Kentucky Headhunters bring out all the rednecks and I can't handle that), and drink in the Beer Garden. Yes, the Beer Garden is a hop and a skip away from St. Joseph's Church, the first Catholic cathedral built west of the Allegheny Mountains.
Have I mentioned that being Catholic rocks?
I definitely didn't entertain the idea of going to the Bourbon Festival and getting "drunk as shit"... and that isn't a direct quote because I would never ever even suggest the idea of drinking, especially not in mass quantities that would be termed as "binging" in college surveys.
At work today, two guys from the IT Department stopped by to install a computer for the new faculty member on our floor. Seeing as how guys my age are scarce on my floor, I definitely didn't ogle the hell out of the guys over the top of my computer screen like a creeper. Please. I have more taste and self control than that. And I didn't even think about trying to find out the guys' names by snooping around on IT's website. I'm definitely not that desperate, especially when it came to the guy with the gauged ears.
And, even more about how I'm not a creeper. Today, when I sat down to lunch and realized that I was facing my roommate's boyfriend's look-a-like (if her boyfriend had a Jew-fro, that is) I didn't even dream of the idea of taking a picture on my cell phone of him. I would never use technology to drive my point home.
Also, I am not watching Pride and Prejudice on Oxygen. I've seen it a million times and don't see any point in watching once again. I'm also not saying the lines in time with the movie. And I'm certainly not quoting the movie with a fake British accent.
Lastly, my roommate just asked if I would want to make a Steak n Shake run at 9:49 at night. I would never eat fattening foods like a strawberry shake and fries at this time of night. :)
Elizabeth: Did I just agree to dance with Mr. Darcy?Charlotte: I dare say you will find him amiable.
Elizabeth: It would be most inconvenient since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity.
- Pride and Prejudice, 2005
Sunday, September 13, 2009
moral dilemmas
I have decided what my moral dilemma of the year is.
Actually, I should say I've decided who my moral dilemma of the year is.
I present to you my Moral Dilemma of 2009: Mr. Taylor Lautner. He's 17. Seventeen, people. I am a gross old lady... but won't be come February 2010 when he becomes legal. I'll still feel like a gross old lady, but it will be legal for me to be a gross old lady.
Another moral dilemma, though not as bad as wanting to jump a minor's bones, is my new like of Diet Coke. I have never been a Diet Coke fan. It's always been Diet Pepsi or bust for this girl. But I'm sitting here, sipping a Diet Coke and watching Family Guy and, you know, it's not so bad. It's actually kind of fucking delicious.
The Diet Coke, not Family Guy. Family Guy is crude and hilarious, as always.
Over the past year or so, I've become sick of Diet Pepsi. You know how some people drink coffee to get them going on their work day? Well, I do that too. But with Diet Pepsi, because WKU refuses to sell Dr. Pepper on the campus, save for the overpriced convenient store. Yes, they suck. And now my taste buds are sick of Diet Pepsi, a beverage I once was sure my blood was made of.
I haven't totally sold out yet though. Diet Dr Pepper is still my number one love, but Diet Coke is tasting pretty good these days. And I hate myself for that.
But not as much as I hate myself for my third moral dilemma...
I've decided on my Halloween costume and decided that I needed to do something about my hair. I absolutely hate the cheap Halloween wigs. They smell bad, they feel weird, they're hot, and when you take them off, you have this red line across your forehead. I discovered some cheap hair extensions at Sally's and decided to try it out, just for my Halloween costume.
Oh my God. I love having hair extensions. The color is much too dark for my hair, which is intentional for my Halloween costume, but I really might invest in some good quality (read: stupidly expensive and marketed by Jessica Simpson) clip-in hair extensions.
Please don't judge me. I judge myself enough for this decision than anyone of you ever could. I just want long hair again. And anyone who knows me knows that my patience level is nonexistent. This is just a temporary solution until my hair gets the length I want it. Is that so wrong?
...
You're right. It's totally wrong. But I might just do it anyway.
Actually, I should say I've decided who my moral dilemma of the year is.
I present to you my Moral Dilemma of 2009: Mr. Taylor Lautner. He's 17. Seventeen, people. I am a gross old lady... but won't be come February 2010 when he becomes legal. I'll still feel like a gross old lady, but it will be legal for me to be a gross old lady.Another moral dilemma, though not as bad as wanting to jump a minor's bones, is my new like of Diet Coke. I have never been a Diet Coke fan. It's always been Diet Pepsi or bust for this girl. But I'm sitting here, sipping a Diet Coke and watching Family Guy and, you know, it's not so bad. It's actually kind of fucking delicious.
The Diet Coke, not Family Guy. Family Guy is crude and hilarious, as always.
Over the past year or so, I've become sick of Diet Pepsi. You know how some people drink coffee to get them going on their work day? Well, I do that too. But with Diet Pepsi, because WKU refuses to sell Dr. Pepper on the campus, save for the overpriced convenient store. Yes, they suck. And now my taste buds are sick of Diet Pepsi, a beverage I once was sure my blood was made of.
I haven't totally sold out yet though. Diet Dr Pepper is still my number one love, but Diet Coke is tasting pretty good these days. And I hate myself for that.
But not as much as I hate myself for my third moral dilemma...
I've decided on my Halloween costume and decided that I needed to do something about my hair. I absolutely hate the cheap Halloween wigs. They smell bad, they feel weird, they're hot, and when you take them off, you have this red line across your forehead. I discovered some cheap hair extensions at Sally's and decided to try it out, just for my Halloween costume.
Oh my God. I love having hair extensions. The color is much too dark for my hair, which is intentional for my Halloween costume, but I really might invest in some good quality (read: stupidly expensive and marketed by Jessica Simpson) clip-in hair extensions.
Please don't judge me. I judge myself enough for this decision than anyone of you ever could. I just want long hair again. And anyone who knows me knows that my patience level is nonexistent. This is just a temporary solution until my hair gets the length I want it. Is that so wrong?
...
You're right. It's totally wrong. But I might just do it anyway.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
stay golden!
Check it out... I finally fiddled with my TOT graphic and brought it up to my standards which are, admittedly, quite below par. Don't be horribly surprised to see a new graphic in the near future... though I must say that I'm totally digging weather vanes right now. Nothing like the crazy shit Aunt Meg had in Twister that I can't find a screencap of at this very moment. It doesn't really matter; if you were alive in 1996, you saw Twister and you know about all those crazy metal death traps Aunt Meg had in her front yard.
Also, on a related note, if you search for the words in "twister screencap" in Google images, you're going to see a bunch of naked asses sticking up in the air. Just, you know, fair warning.
Thought One:
I'm still not over those metal weather vane things in Aunt Meg's yard. What would possess a person to put all those sharp metal pieces outside on display in the middle of Tornado-friggin-Valley? I'm just saying. Tornadoes...wind...flying metal that's been shaped to move easily through the air... she and her Metals of Doom probably decapitated half of Wakita when that tornado went through there.
Get out while you can.Thought Two:
What happened to Nelly Furtado? I've been listening to her lately and though I lost a lot of respect for her when she sold out with that "Get Ur Freak On" remix and that album after Folklore, I miss her music.
Plus, I've been listening to that remix of "Get Ur Freak On" a lot lately. I can't help it, okay? It's catchier than the swine flu.
Thought Three:
It's too soon for (really stupid) swine flu jokes, isn't it?
Thought Four:
Wolf-whistling is impossible. This isn't a thought; it's an absolute fact. And anyone who can wolf whistle is a jackass because wolf-whistling is subjective and offensive and I spent more time than I'm willing to admit trying to wolf whistle using the tutorial found in October's Cosmo and all I managed to do was make my lips chapped.
Thought Five:
I realized last night that I watch almost two hours of The Golden Girls a day. It's not even intentional. I've started watching/listening to the 7 am airing while I'm getting ready for work, then tend to watch again at 10:30pm, I'm in bed by 11 during the week (because I'm turning into an old spinstress, what with The Golden Girls and having a cat and all), tend to watch at 11pm, then set my sleep timer on the TV for 30-60 minutes after that. So, that's at least 90 minutes of watching Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia and all their crazy antics and witty banter.
I fully blame Hallmark for constantly showing reruns and having all day long Sunday marathons of The Golden Girls. But I will say, here and now, that lying in bed watching The Golden Girls marathon on a Sunday afternoon is the best way to cure a hangover caused from a Saturday night of boozing it up.
Now, if you'll excuse me. It's almost 10:30 and I need to watch a TV show I've already seen a million times.
Rose: I just had a thought.
Sophia, Dororthy, and Blanche: Congratulations.
- The Golden Girls
Sophia, Dororthy, and Blanche: Congratulations.
- The Golden Girls
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
words to fox news
When Obama was thanking Congress for being there and for the American public watching, I wanted him to, at that time, point a finger at the camera and say, "And to you, at Fox News, fuck you guys."
Friday, September 4, 2009
the soggy purples
This week has been one of those weeks. It wasn't awful, but wasn't necessarily good either. It was a mix between the blues and the mean reds... the soggy purples.
Like I said, it hasn't been a bad week... but it hasn't been necessarily good either. It's just been a soggy purple kind of funk.
But, in different news, I co-interviewed a student for the assistant job in our department at work. I've never interviewed someone before and it's been five years since I've been interviewed. So, trying to be professional, I Googled (Google is way professional) questions and proper ways to interview a potential employee. I also asked one of the ladies I work with to be in the interview as well since she has hired students in the past.
It ended up kind of feeling like a 'good cop, bad cop' kind of thing. And I was the bad cop! I was asking questions about her application and the lady who was in the interview with me was explaining the job and what she would be doing as if we already hired her... which we pretty much had before she got there because of her experience and all that. But still. I felt like a bitch. And I'm not a bitch; I just bitch about things. There is a difference. It all ended well though, and the student was hired. And I added another bullet to my resume as an interviewer.
Despite all of that, I'm still feeling those soggy purples. I hope hanging out with my family this weekend will cure me of this funk. If not, then the soggy purples might be given a violent shove into the mean reds.
...
This is really starting to sound like some sort of pansy terror alert system, isn't it?
Like I said, it hasn't been a bad week... but it hasn't been necessarily good either. It's just been a soggy purple kind of funk.
But, in different news, I co-interviewed a student for the assistant job in our department at work. I've never interviewed someone before and it's been five years since I've been interviewed. So, trying to be professional, I Googled (Google is way professional) questions and proper ways to interview a potential employee. I also asked one of the ladies I work with to be in the interview as well since she has hired students in the past.
It ended up kind of feeling like a 'good cop, bad cop' kind of thing. And I was the bad cop! I was asking questions about her application and the lady who was in the interview with me was explaining the job and what she would be doing as if we already hired her... which we pretty much had before she got there because of her experience and all that. But still. I felt like a bitch. And I'm not a bitch; I just bitch about things. There is a difference. It all ended well though, and the student was hired. And I added another bullet to my resume as an interviewer.
Despite all of that, I'm still feeling those soggy purples. I hope hanging out with my family this weekend will cure me of this funk. If not, then the soggy purples might be given a violent shove into the mean reds.
...
This is really starting to sound like some sort of pansy terror alert system, isn't it?
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