a new home.

Thanks to the awesome amazing wonderful LiLu, my blog has a fancy new layout and a new home over at http://www.sloppywords.net . So, if you want to mosey on over there and check it out, maybe subscribe to the blog feed (http://www.sloppywords.net/feed/), or resubscribe with the Google Friend Connect thingamajig, then that would be awesome.

snow days, pancakes, and my eventual migration to wordpress.

My Snow Day Morning.

4:45 am. Text from the school. All campuses are closed. Tweet my happiness. Go back to sleep.

5:23 am. Cat starts chewing on my hair. Ignore and fall back asleep.

6:14 am. Text from a coworker asking if library is closed. Reply back that even if it is open, the rest of the campus is closed, and I'm not going in. Now have a cat sitting on my stomach, staring at me and rubbing her cold wet snotty nose all over my arm. Ignore cat and resume sleep.

7:44 am. Boss calls to ask if I'm going into work. Tell her about the official campus text saying everything was closed. At least, I think that's what I told her. It's not the best idea for me to talk to anyone when I'm just waking up. God only knows what I told her. Hope I still have a job tomorrow. Decide that sleep is better than working about job.

8 am-10 am. Am awaken at various intervals by cat. Cat uses such tactics as chewing on hair, pawing at my face, snotty nose on my arms and face, meowing, sitting on my chest and meowing while pawing at my face.

10:03 am. Admit defeat. Get out of bed to feed cat. Annoyed to see food in her bowl. Give her more food then ponder my own breakfast choices.

10:07 am. Generic SlimFast is better for my waistline, but it's a snow day. Snow days clearly mean PANCAKES!!!!

10:59 am. Finish making pancakes. Try to figure out why in the hell it took me almost an hour to make fucking pancakes.

11:12 am. Pancakes gone.

11:13 am. I wanna throw up.

11:58 am. Did not throw up, but have spent the time watching a rerun of What Not to Wear. Wonder what Stacy and Clinton would want me to wear. Probably not as much plaid as I currently wear.

12 pm. Decide to move my blog over to WordPress. I really want to get an actual website of my own going. And not just for my blog, but as an outlet to sell my books. Because, lets face it, I'm an attention-seeking, wanna-be-money-making whore. Now am going to spend my day attempting all of that stuff. So, if you're reading this, be patient, and I'll give you an update once I've mosied on over to WordPress.

an apple a day makes me want to cry.

How do I manage to fuck up everything that Mac creates?

Seriously. It's like I have this magical talent to screw up Apple products. Products that are supposed to be unscrewable.

I know unscrewable isn't a word, and is probably how must dudes feel about me, but let's just keep the lid tightly vacuumed-sealed on that can of worms right now.

First it was sophomore year when I got a crash course in Mac for an online magazine I was writing for. The instructor was all "Macs are the best computer because Steve Jobs has a penis made out of gold blah blah blah Macs never freeze up like Windows" which is about the time I got the Spinning Beach Ball of Doom on the computer I was using.

Being an avid Windows user (only because I'm too poor to purchase a MacBook), I gave the guy a How-Now-Brown-Cow look. He freaked out and was like "This never happens" to which I replied coolly, "Yeah, about that."

Fast-forward to the present and my THIRD attempt to download iTunes 9 to my computer because irrational, irresponsible me bought an iTouch today because people in WalMart made me angry enough to blow $295. And, just to make sure that none of my tax refund survives this weekend, I also bought an external hard drive because I have Windows and unlike greater-than-thou Macs, Windows crashes. A lot. And I have a lot of shit on this computer that I don't want to lose.

So, got my new iTouch, plug it into my computer, do a little dance because I'm six-year-old-with-a-new-bike-for-Christmas excited, and then my computer tells me to download iTunes 9. Fine. No big deal. I've been needing to do that for awhile anyway.

Three hours and a headache later, I'm on my THIRD download of the damn program since it refuses to install on my cheap ass, not a MacBook computer.

WHAT IN THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO YOU STEVE JOBS?!?!?!?

Update. Upon trying to install my third update of the damn iTunes 9, I get this message: "The application has failed to start because its side-by-side configuration is incorrect."

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!

I'm taking the iPod back and getting a Zune.

are you there self-control? it's me, crystal.

Every year, the library where I work partners up with the public library and holds a book sale to help fund events going on in the community. Being staff, this is the first year I participated in helping sit stuff up.

You guys. I bought 26 books.

26 mother-lovin' books.

I hear people talk about self-control, and I get the concept, but the execution is a little fuzzy for me. And I'm okay with that because I just got 26 books for 15 bucks, including the complete short stories of Hemingway, The Giving Tree (even if it is sexist), and Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret, which I have never read.

I know. How I ever survived elementary school is totally beyond me.

get the sensation.

Oh God, y'all (I'm embracing my roots. I'm from the country, and I like tolerate it that way), I've had the dumbest week of my life.

And it's only Tuesday, for Neil's sake (I've totally upgraded from Pete, it's all about NPH, baby).

After a bat crazy hormonal Sunday and Monday, I'm finally back on track. Mostly. There's still some stuff to sort out, but I'm feeling more optimistic about things and have adapted that saying "what will be, will be", which I really hate. I'm far too impatient to just wait shit out. I like knowing. I'm an instant gratification fiend. That's why I can't keep to diets, exercise, or anything else that involves being healthy and giving up this bag of York peppermint patties that I've nearly cleaned out. Seriously, I will cut a bitch if they take away the deliciousness that is 140 CALORIES FOR 3 PIECES?!?!?!?!?!?! Holy Hannah in hightops.

York Peppermint Patties: Get the sensation (of the circulation being cut off to your legs because your jeans are way too tight after consuming York Peppermint Patties)

But the week is bound to get better. I'm working a book sale tomorrow for work, so that should be fun. Especially since I'll get almost first dibs on the books. And I've been itchin' to fill up my latest bookshelf/nightstand. Hello books, goodbye checking account.

And speaking of books and my money, my book is still available for purchase. It's right over there in the sidebar. Look at it. It's all purple and shiny and shit. You totally want one. Go ahead, buy one. You're only hurting yourself if you don't. Buy it, buy it, peer pressure, everyone's doing it, buy it, buy it.

Or not. It's fine. I'll still keep you around, regardless.

i'm probably going to hell.

This is one of the worst things I've ever seen. And it's awful. Oh Lord, is it bad.

But it makes me laugh like a hyena. And I need to laugh today.

saving money is for the self-controlled.

I have this thing about saving money...

I can't do it.

Seriously. I'm trying to save money for Europe next year because, hello, Greek boys. I did prefer Italian boys, but Jersey Shore has forever tarnished my view on Italian stallions. Eh, at this point, boys with accents that's not Redneck, Masshole, or Sarah Palin are okay in my book too.

And I've done decent on my savings. I have about enough for a nice little mini-vacay to New Orleans, complete with hotel, airfare, and one of those fishbowl drinks that will undoubtedly leave me with my head in a toilet at a Cajun restaurant with purple, green, and gold paint splashed on the walls, and I will mumble in between heaves that I must have offended the hoodoo community and this is how they get their revenge, and I will ignore the reality that is that I drank a fishbowl full of fucking booze in twenty minutes and then ate seafood because I thought it would be a good idea for the seafood to go live in its natural habitat of the contents of the said fishbowl I had consumed. Drunk me would totally think this way.

So, yeah. That's where I am now. In just a month or so, I'd have enough money to go back to New York. I could buy the ticket now and go in, like, April or May or whenever it isn't cold as balls up there, and I could actually do a bunch of irresponsible reckless shopping. Which is my favorite kind of shopping. Or I could go to California. Or DC. Or somewhere that isn't Kentucky and would totally blow up all my plans for Europe next year.

Must. Travel. Must. Spend. All. My. Money. Must. Not. Leave. A. Penny. Unspent.