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.

the words don't work.

Hey there, kiddos. I want to go ahead and type up an entry before my computer keyboard completely craps out on me like it did while ago. I've been having trouble with the 9 and 0 key. To make the symbols appear, I have to Mike Tyson-punch the keys. Just a few moments ago, when I was trying to type in my email password, the entire keyboard refused to work. All the punching in the world wouldn't help it.

After a quick hibernation of my computer, the keys are (obviously) working again. I have no idea what happened, but it may have sent me into a panic attack where I may have yelled out, "But I'm a writer!!!" and Tweeted from my cell phone the devastating news.

So, yes, tax refund is going to a new computer. Even though I love this one. I mean, I wrote my first novel on this bad boy. And it has my Hanson stickers on it (yes I have Hanson stickers, shut up, I'm a super cool person) as well as the Stephen Colbert Award for Literacy Excellence nominee sticker that I may or may not have swiped from a library book. In my defense, there was a whole page of stickers and Stephen Colbert expressed in the first pages of his book, I Am America (and So Can You), that the book should not be in libraries. I was just giving that library what for. Mr. Colbert would be proud, I think.

In other news, I think that I'm going to get my own little website. Mostly for my novel because I really, really, REALLY need a way to promote it more. But also a place to host my blog. And I feel like having my blog right there alongside the book will make people more apt to buy the book. If they see my writing style in my blog, they'll be like, "Wow, she's a super rad girl. I'm going to buy her book and recommend that all my mega gnarly friends buy a copy too because, hello, the author uses words like 'rad' and 'gnarly' in her scenarios."

The only problem with this is that I don't remember HTML from my website days in high school (enter Crystal the Mega High School dork here). Like, at all. And that's a damn shame because I knew it all: HTML, CSS, even a little Java. And now? Nothing. Zilch. Nada. I definitely can't afford to hire someone and I'm too cheap to buy DreamWeaver. What all this means is that I'm going to sweat, swear, and bawl my way through learning HTML again. Because I've lost my ever-lovin' mind.

To end this gibberish, let me pose a question: what do y'all like to see on semi-personal websites? Anything from flashy designs to guestbooks (do they even have guestbooks anymore?) to drop-down menus.

whoring out and what gary marshall has to do with that.

All right, you guys, I am seriously running out of places to whore out my book. I've made so many Facebook status updates about it that my own mother is probably hiding me from her News Feed. Well, if my mom had Facebook, that is, then she totally would block me. The Twitter Fail Whale is going to explode if I link to CreateSpace and Amazon one more time. Even Blogger is shaking its head like, "Bitch, give it up already. This is a lost cause and no one is going to love your book, especially not Garry Marshall because we all know it's your dream to be part of a Garry Marshall film because you're a total weirdo who doesn't have normal dreams like solving world hunger or learning how to fly a plane."

But I can't give it up. That's why I've emailed Trashionista, ModCloth's account on GoodReads.com, and was just in the shower thinking about penning a letter to Ellen about how she should start her own fancy-schmancy book club (only one that has fun books because, really, there's enough sadness and suffering in the world, we don't need to read about it for entertainment purposes, Oprah) and how she should include my book in that club because, hello, it was my idea for her to start one. I get grandfathered in for being a clever S.O.B. I've also taken to CreateSpace's forums for shameless plugs. For eff's sake, I even posted a link to it on my 20sb.net page and on the Chick Lit Lover's group there because I have no self control over it at this point. Seriously. I need a twelve-step program or hours vegging out in front of the TV watching Clueless and National Treasure while eating popcorn dipped in salsa. Don't give me that look, it's the most fucking delicious thing you will ever put in your mouth (that's what she said).

If nothing else, my hometown's newspaper might run a story on me. And that's something. Especially since Jerry Bruckheimer (yeah, the Pirates of the Caribbean one) lives nearby. Yes, Jerry Bruckheimer set up shop in a small town in Kentucky. Rich people are insane eccentric. Maybe he'll open the newspaper one morning while munching on some Fiber One blueberry toaster pastries (oh my God, you guys, those things are so delicious, and thirty calories less than regular old Pop-Tarts, and you can make all the poop jokes you want, I don't care, I love these things), see this article about me and be all, "Holy shit! I've got to turn this book into a movie... somebody get me Garry Marshall on the phone, STAT!"

Hey, it could happen. Try a little optimism. Also, try these Fiber One pop-tarts.

Mmm... poop-tarts.

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?

emmy cat

I have the cutest cat in the world. That is all.

how you can help.

It's so easy to complain about the silly little things going on in my life, but this entry isn't about that. It's about others.

What happened in Haiti was a horrible, terrible thing. While I sit here and wonder about the future of late night TV, there are people dying beneath piles of rubble, and children who will never see their parents again, and lovers that are forever parted, and none of that is right. But we can help, whether we live in the US, Europe, or Antarctica.

Times are hard, and I get that, but if you can donate ten bucks, go for it. Here are some excellent organizations to start with:

Americares
American Red Cross
Doctors Without Borders
UNICEF

If you're low on funds, there's always the Greater Goods Network. Just by clicking a button, you can give a bowl of food to someone in need, help pay for mammograms, and even help out with animal rescue. This relief may not go to the people in Haiti, but it is going to someone in need. All of the sites, such as The Hunger Site, are also asking for donations to help the victims of the earthquake in Haiti. They also have an online store filled with some great gifts for yourself or someone you know, and the money goes to helping others. And that's a win-win for us all. I have buttons on the sidebar that link to the Greater Goods Network sites, by the way.

Also, I'm a firm believer that charity starts at home. Help out someone in need in your town if you can, even if it's just picking up a piece of paper off the ground and throwing it away recycling it or as cliche` as helping a little old lady across the street. It's like those commercials (which I really hate, but have a good message, regardless): Kindness, pass it on.

Take care of yourself. And the people around you. We're all in this together, you know.

general tso, we've got a good thing going.

Craving General Tso's chicken and rice delivered right to my door sounded like a lovely dinner option. And really puts that going to the gym at 6 am tomorrow in perspective (yeah, 6am, color me crazy). Since my preferred Chinese restaurant is closed right now - they close during winter and summer break since there are so few students in town - I took a chance and called the other Chinese restaurant in town.

As an aside, it is ridiculous that I live in a city with only two Chinese restaurants that deliver.

So, I called and ordered some food (and a two-liter of Diet Coke, you know, just to be ironic), decided to watch Wedding Crashers instead of Ella Enchanted (shuddup, I like that movie, and Hugh Dancy is so pretty I want to cry), and burrow myself a nice little hole in the couch.

Some time goes by, the cat senses that food is on its way, and is at the door before I am when the delivery person arrives.

THE DELIVERY PERSON WAS THE CUTE BOY FROM NEW YEAR'S. THE ONE WHO OFFERED ME A RIDE HOME TWICE (I declined his offer because he was a stranger and, you know, my momma didn't raise no fool). THE CUTE BOY WITH THE NERDY GLASSES THAT MADE HIM CUTE ENOUGH TO MAKE ME WANT TO WRITE A PARAGRAPH IN ALL CAPS.

Let me just say that I'm glad I chose Wedding Crashers. I would not have been able to handle this if I had Ella Enchanted, what with the talking snake and Cary Elwes not looking like he did The Princess Bride, on the TV screen.

The conversation was kind of sad because 1) I was surprised, and that is not a time when I'm in best element and 2) I'm me so... yeah. As he was leaving, he told me to have a good dinner. I told him to do the same, then corrected myself, unless he hadn't had dinner yet then, in which case, I hope he has a good dinner.

Yes, I really did say all of that to him. Did I mention that I am unable to shut my mouth at times when I really should? After I babbled all of that, he may have invited me out to the bar tonight. I'm not really sure. We were talking across the parking lot and he said the name of one of the bars, but as a question. Like, do you go there often or, are you going there tonight?

Now I don't know what to do.

I mean, I'm not going out tonight. I can't, really. But, at the same time, this is all just weird. I mean, I see this guy on New Year's Eve - and I like to think that New Year's Eve is significant, in the same way I find Independence Day significant (sparkle and booze makes holidays significant for me) - then two times after that, just by sheer chance. And one time he's delivering Chinese food to my door? Come on. This is all just bizarre. In a super fun way.

I wonder where I'll see him next... if it's at a Hanson concert, I'm going to say it's meant to be.