snow storm, html, booze, and fyi the weatherman is a boob man

They're calling for snow here and I seriously have my doubts about this (codename: The Susan Stance). Don't get me wrong, I hope it snows a foot, but I just can't agree with all the weather forecasters. The paranoid part of me thinks that meteorologists and the major grocery chains are in cahoots together. WalMart pays Chris Allen (our weatherman, who is definitely a boob man, as evident in the following YouTube video) an undisclosed amount of money and he threatens six inches of snow and tells the townsfolk that they best go stock up on milk and bread.



Yes, this is the guy that people in my town get their weather information from. No, he didn't do this on the air. Still, it's hilarious. And mildly offensive. Which only makes it more hilarious.

If it does turn out that I'm snowed in all weekend, I'm screwed because all I have to survive on is ramen and alcohol. Because, even though I graduated college last December, I can't give up the college kid diet. Mostly because my paycheck goes back to loans, bills, and clothes.... what? I'm a girl, I can't help it, and most everything I buy is on sale/clearance/so crazy cheap that I can't NOT buy it. (Hello green dress from Old Navy for $3.50. And the identical one in purple.)

To keep me busy during this snowed-in weekend is my goal to relearn HTML. Yes, I've gone full-fledged nuts. I fully intend to buy a domain sometime in the next month and my lovely roommate/bestie sent me an uber amount of links on HTML and CSS to help get me started on a site. So, yes, my weekend: snowed in, drunk on daiquiris, full of ramen, and editing HTML.

I am a party animal. Yow.

Also, if you know HTML/any sites that offer codes/templates free for the taking, please let me know. I will love you long time. But not in that way... unless the codes/templates are really swell.

midnight margaritas.

After referencing Practical Magic last night, today has been all about Midnight Margaritas (and Goodwill). Only thing about this is you can't buy booze on Sunday in Kentucky. A mention to cross the state line and go in to Tennessee had some merit, but it turns out that all you can buy there on Sundays is beer. Which is just stupid. Okay, Tennessee? That's a stupid law. I called RiteAid in town (it's not Sunday at midnight, after all) and they don't carry alcohol. In fact, the employee I talked to was really snooty about it. Just because I call a drugstore on the Sabbath asking questions about booze doesn't make me a bad person. So take your moral goodness and stick it where the sun doesn't shine, RiteAid.

The roommates and I just returned from a local bar near campus where we consumed a bacon and pineapple pizza and a beer. While enjoyable, I still pine for a margarita. And I realize that it's after midnight now and booze should be attainable at my local CVS Pharmacy, but I'm sleepy and ready to hit the hay and have sweet, sweet dreams of John Krasinski. Tomorrow though, oh tomorrow, we are celebrating Midday Margaritas. Starting at noon, we are going to drink. And, if we're able to find it on OnDemand, incorporate a Jersey Shore drinking game into this Midday Margarita madness.

You know, I'm not going to lie. I'm looking kind of forward to drinking in the afternoon.

I don't have a problem.

Also, if you look to your right, I've placed a little picture of my book cover and added links at the places where it's available for purchase. So, you know, if you wanted to, you could purchase it with just a few little clicks of the old mouse. Buy my book and you will get to see more pictures of my adorable cat, Emmy, such as this gem:

Doesn't she just make you want to purchase a silly chick lit novel from an unknown author?

MMMbooze.

There is a Hanson drinking game.

I don't know how this beauty of a game flew in under my radar because 1) I love Hanson, 2) I love booze, and 3) I'm fairly certain all my dreams would come true if the two were combined in some way.

Whatever the reason, I am glad to discover this gem of a game and fully intend on playing it as soon as possible.

Now, you have to be wondering, how do you play a Hanson drinking game, Crystal?

(Okay, you're probably not wondering, you probably don't even care, but I control the content that goes on this blog, stupid as it may be, so tough cookies, I'm telling you.)

Well, you need a few things.

1) Booze.
2) At least one other person because, hello, it's a game. And drinking alone is depressing, but playing a Hanson drinking game alone would probably end up in suicide over such a sad existence... which is why I'm really hoping Jessica, my Hanson-concert-partner-in-crime, is in town next weekend to play this ridiculous game. Otherwise, things ain't gonna end pretty for this blogger.
3) Hanson's 1997 home video, Tulsa, Tokyo, and the Middle of Nowhere. Which I own on VHS since I can't track down the DVD version of it, and is a large part of the reason I still own a VCR.


If the VHS box cover with its amazing graphics (which, really, are quite reminiscent of how my walls looked when I was eleven), here's one of the beauties of TTMON (oh, yeah, there are Hanson abbreviations out there... terrifying, isn't it?)



Now, the rules of this Hanson drinking game, which I swiped off the Hanson Livejournal community, are as follows:

-- Drink whenever Taylor sounds like a girl
-- Drink whenever Zac or Isaac do weird voices
-- Drink whenever Zac spazzes out
-- Drink whenever someone quotes the movie

I'm not entirely sure that anyone could make it through this movie alive while playing this game. Back in '97, Zac was one spazzy little motherfucker. And Isaac was a dork. And Taylor's voice was crack-a-lackin' like woah. Hello, alcohol poisoning.

you shut your mouth when you're talking to me

I am never drinking again until I drink again.

My headache caused by last night's festivities which resulted in my decision to walk home barefoot in the rain through the ghetto, only ceased a few hours ago. Ditto the horrible feeling of nausea.

My feet, aside from the ghastly blisters on my heels, are fine. I think. The ghetto sidewalks seemed surprisingly clean for a Saturday night. But that could have been because I never got a good look at the ground since I was drunk and trying to text someone while carrying an umbrella. Needless to say, I got rained on. A lot.

I woke up this morning to discover that I had totally crashed mid-text conversation. Oops. I've spent the rest of my day on the couch watching Friends, sleeping, trying to keep down food, then watching Legally Blonde and the bulk of The 40-Year-Old Virgin on TV and pined over Luke Wilson and Paul Rudd, as is my nature. Actually, I prefer Owen to Luke, which is weird since I tend to like dark haired, dark eyed guys and Owen is blond with blue eyes. And he's in Wedding Crashers, which is one of my favorite movies...

Don't judge me. I love Wedding Crashers. Oh, and in imdbing Owen Wilson, I just discovered that they're making another Meet the Parents installment. This one is called Little Fockers. No, I am not kidding. Also, I'm kind of excited about it. I've missed Owen Wilson being in funny movies.

Jeremy: Have you even shot one of these things before?
John: The whole 17 years we've known each other I've been sneaking off to go on little hunting trips around the world. No, I don't even know what the fuck a quail is.
- Wedding Crashers

To end this mad rambling on a good note, let's throw in another picture of Owen Wilson, just for good measure.

jello shots and bathroom shelves

I put together a bathroom shelf to go over the toilet today and, for whatever stupid reason, I decided to photo-document it all. Ready for a bunch of stupid pictures? Great, let's go!

1 - This is what it's supposed to look like once it's finished:

Now, isn't that nice? You know what's especially nice? That WalMart doesn't take into consideration the fact that not everyone has all that open space around their toilet that's shown in the picture. Yes, this will come back later.

2 - I got all my supplies in order:

- the contents of the box, screwdriver, and an actual hammer that replaced the Dream Hammer... which, for those of you not living in my apartment, is a dream dictionary that we used as a hammer up until a few months ago when a real hammer was purchased

- the first season of Psych playing on the telly. Shawn Spencer = love. And, as a random aside, the writers of this show replied to me on Twitter today. Granted, I replied to one of their tweets first, but still. It was very nice of them to acknowledge me. I should have tweeted them asking for a writing job with them.

- my Rosie the Riveter persona. Maybe I can go by Crystal the Carpenter?

3 - Decided that having a wee little drink beforehand was a good idea. And Meagan had made black cherry jello shots (using black cherry vodka, no less) last night. They. Are. AWESOME.

- plus, I assumed that I would injure myself in some fashion and alcohol would make it not hurt as bad.

4 - Began assembling the bottom half of the shelf. Turns out that I only needed to use one of those bars in the middle. The directions didn't clarify that until I went to put the support bar at the bottom and didn't have one.


5 - About people not having wide open bathrooms in that earlier step? Yeah, we don't have one of those which made getting that bottom support bar on really fucking difficult.

- I ended up taking the top off the commode and removing something from the bowl to attach the bar to the shelf.

6 - The top half of the shelf is getting started. Now, I ask you, isn't that a handsome top part of a bathroom shelf?

- The answer is yes, yes it is.

7 - Still annoyed with the bottom bar (and WalMart, in general) that goes behind the toilet. Decide to take another jello shot.


8 - Then decide to have a mini-dance party because I'm sure that's how the professionals do it.


9 - Emmy then decided that she needed to guard the back panel from the forces of evil.

- In LOLCat speak, she iz duin it rite.

10 - But all that guarding made her really sleepy...


11 - The top half of the bathroom shelf in it's completion! It only took me two full episodes of Psych to complete. You see, in my world, I measure time by TV shows. A summer work day, for example, is 14 episodes of Friends.


12 - The bathroom shelf done and actually standing up in the bathroom!


- The hardest part to put together was this little strappy thing at the top that goes into the shelf and also into the wall so that the shelf won't fall in on you while you're doing your business. That seriously took me more time than I care to admit installing. Plus, I was in one of the rickety kitchen chairs and, you know, I'm not tiny by any means. I was certain that the chair was going to give way and I was going to fall, hit my head on the vanity, and have Meagan find me the next day bleeding from the head and not knowing my own name. I was equally afraid of all that happening only, instead of having amnesia, I was afraid that I would wake up dead.

13 - I was so proud of my work and not hurting myself in any way, shape, or form, that I decided to treat myself with one last jello shot.


And that, bloggers, is how you put a bathroom shelf together.