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.

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

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."

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?

thoughts on thursday

NOTE: Okay, I started this yesterday, got hit with my undiagnosed ADD and never finished this post. Since I'm too lazy/uncreative to think of something else to blog about, I'm posting what I wrote yesterday. Don't like it? Tough noogies.

It's Thursday and I have nothing real to report about anything. I guess the only way to make a real entry is to do another Thoughts on Thursday.

This would look better if I was on a computer that had more than a Paint program; just pretend it looks nicer.

Thought 1:
The other library, the one I don't work in, but the one that is still connected to the building that I do work in, is closing tomorrow at 1 because of electrical issues. How lame is that? If they get to go home at 1 on a Friday, then I should be able to as well. I mean, we're all working similar jobs, we're all on the same payroll...

Actually, that's not true. Since I'm 'full-time temporary, part-time hourly', I'm on a different payroll than the real faculty and staff. But still, those are just details that shouldn't affect me getting to go home early on a Friday afternoon.

Friday afternoon, people. That's, like, the best time to get off work and still be paid for it ever.

Thought 2:
I bet UK is glad they got rid of this guy before he went and pulled this stunt and had this lovely picture of himself taken:

Check out that handsome mug.

Thought 3:
I'm 89% sure that I'm getting a wrist tattoo. What am I getting? Why, a dorky literary tattoo of course!
The quote is from Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, and I think it will look lovely on my right wrist. I have some fears of getting inked in such a visible spot, but I'm pretty confident that it can be covered up with the bracelets I wear, or a watch, or, you know, long sleeves. Problem solved.

Plus, I really like the quote and I can't see it working as well in any other spot.

Thought 4:
My little cousins are trying out for America's Next Top Model tomorrow in Chicago. I am so excited and nervous for them. They're both gorgeous, smart great girls and they totally deserve an opportunity to shine. So, tomorrow, if you're hungover and lying on the couch watching reruns of ANTM on Oxygen, send some good thoughts their way.

Yes, that is exactly how I plan to spend my Saturday afternoon.

Thought 5:
Gah, this has been a shitty post. Maybe I can save it by throwing in a few movie lines?

Carol: Ray isn't coming out of his room until he resembles the man I married.
Art: Carol, we don't have that kind of time.
- The 'Burbs

Mr Shickadance: Ventura.
Ace: Yes, Satan? ... Oh, I'm sorry sir. You sounded like someone else.
- Ace Ventura, Pet Detective

Cassandra: There's only one reason Christian girls come down to the Planned Parenthood.
Roland: She's planting a pipe bomb?!
Cassandra: Okay, two reasons.
- Saved!

a talk with the universe.

So my "Crystal, You Dumbass, Don't Buy That" list is slowly unraveling.

And, by slowly, I mean that I bought three seasons of television on DVD last night at Target because I have no fucking self control.

But, it was season six of The Golden Girls for nine dollars! You best believe that, if they had the other seasons in stock (which were all nine dollars as well, and the reason why they were sold out), I would have bought the whole series. I also purchased the first two seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer because, evidently, I want to make myself even more unattractive to the opposite sex and stay single forever. And, if that doesn't do the trick, I also bought oodles of scrapbooking supplies.

I swear, if I take up knitting, someone kill me.

As long as I don't go on a shopping spree these next two weekends, I should be able to get my savings account back on track. I was doing fine up until I got hit with a $200 pet deposit and a verbal lashing from the landlady on Monday.

This not spending money for the next two weeks should go well since I've just got approximately 20 publishers to contact/bribe/beg. I have to get published, you guys. I really believe that if you want something bad enough and if you try, then it will happen. And, maybe I should do what that book The Secret says to do and put what I want out there in the Universe.

Hey, Universe, I want to be a published author.

Okay, I've never read The Secret, but I'm pretty sure that was one of the steps. Another step probably says not to be a smart ass about the other steps.

Oh God, what if I had to give up sarcasm in order to get a book deal? Talk about Sophie's Choice...

why i hate the jonas brothers.

Whenever I make some snide comment about The Jonas Brothers (which is a rather frequent occurrence), I am always asked, "Why you be hatin' on The JoBro, bitch?".

Sadly, none of my friends actually talk like that, but the question, however grammatically incorrect and offensive, is still there.

Why do I hate The Jonas Brothers?

The answer is simple: It's payback time.

Since I was eleven years old, my taste in music hasn't mattered. It hasn't mattered because my favorite band is Hanson, and "oh, they sing "MMMBop", what do those long-haired girls know about music?"

I have been facing prejudice since I was a wee little lassie because of my brother band. You would think that I would see the dark road The Jonas Brothers are heading down and would have pity on them. Oh, they're popular right now with their TV show and concert specials on the Disney channel, but that's going to change once their targeted demographic hits about sixteen. The JoBros will essentially fall off the map. They'll probably release a few albums and a handful of singles that will go unnoticed, except by the fans who are still sticking around because, well, that first love never really fades, does it? The band will perform at small venues and state fairs and occasionally be brought up in conversation, but only as a joke.

The same has happened with Hanson. With every album release after their first, Hanson has cause nothing more than a murmur in the music world. Oh, the albums get good reviews in obscure rock magazines, but sales aren't phenomenal and... have you heard "Great Divide" on the radio? I didn't think so. Not that radio play means a lot since most radio stations just play crap these days anyway. By the general public, Hanson isn't respected. Which is just bullshit beyond belief. Did you know that they broke their contract with their record label in order to make the music that they wanted to make?

Do you see The Jonas Brothers cutting Mickey Mouse's apron strings anytime soon? Because I sure as hell don't. And that's why I hate the comparison between Hanson and The Jonas Brothers. Hanson is a stronger group. Maybe, in ten years, I'll respect The Jonas Brothers for being talented musicians.

Right now, though? Not so much. I really don't think that they have the stones to be good musicians. And, if they do have the stones, then you best believe Disney has them in a vice grip.

My other reason for hating The Jonas Brothers? Well, it's simple really. I only have room in my heart for one brother band.

Oh, and these lyrics don't do anything for me either:

"You got moves, I've got shoes, let's go dancing
Pop and lock, battle dance against Hanson
If we lose, all the girls, they'll be laughing
Where would we be, if we couldn't dream?"

Fuck you, Jonas Brothers. Listen to how a real band does it without dropping names in a stupid ass way: