Two stupid lists that no one cares about.

Things I hate:
School
Work
My broken phone
My bruised shin
My missing tweezers
Cold wind
Dieting
Unpaid bills
Unpacking
My split ends
Procrastination
Stupidity
Boys
8 o'clock classes

Things I like:
Battlestar Galactica
Vitamin E
No class after 10 am Friday
My gray hairs
Baby carrots
Blankets
Socks
Financial aid
Friends and family
Catching up
Randomly nice strangers
Infomercials
Peppermint body wash
Keeping a journal

I'm more excited about the good hair day I'm having.

Today, I am 25 years old. I spent the first half of my birthday doing some grown-up things. I went to the doctor to get a possible melanoma checked out. I shaved my legs. I went to the grocery and bought only the things on my list. After these things, I collected my dirty laundry. I have been putting off doing my laundry for quite awhile now. So long, in fact, that I discovered this morning that I am completely out of clean underwear. After an exhaustive search, I could only come up with one possible contender. That's right, blogosphere/ interwebs/ dear reader(s), right now I am wearing the bikini bottoms from an old bathing suit. This does not bode well for my twenty-fifth year.

This is the hundredth post.

"Is this the ear you can't hear on? George Bailey, I'll love you 'til the day I die."

There are too many pictures.

And not enough words on my blog. But this is probably the greatest lolcat I've ever seen.



I didn't think it was possible to make lolcats any geekier. I was wrong. As it's usually the case, a Star Wars reference will exponentially increase your nerdiness.

Because you're sent from heaven.

Got to thinking about what I think heaven would be like. And if you're uncomfortable with the idea of heaven, we can call this my own personal utopia. Here, I have the body and face I've always wanted, but I'm obviously still me. I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want. Skinny-dipping is a weekly activity. It feels like summer all the time, except it snows occasionally for a little variety, and the foliage changes with the seasons the way it does here. People I know are there, at least, the dead ones. I can perform magic like Harry Potter. There's no money. I don't have any allergies and I never get sick. I can check up on the living, but I can't interfere with life, and I'm prevented from seeing loved ones on the toilet or similar. Maybe there's a facebook or myspace-type thing, where I can scroll through and see what's going on with people I don't think about every day. There's a book (or a flyer, shuddup) of the nice things I did while I was alive, so I can remember that I wasn't a completely terrible person. I can talk to anyone who's dead about anything I want. Not for a long time, I'm sure famous people have a lot of folks to see in eternity. I suddenly know a bunch of languages. There's lots of books, so I don't get bored. Okay, let's say I want to watch a certain movie. Something pops up and asks me if I want to watch it now or later. And it remembers that I thought about that particular movie that particular day. I can wikipedia anything, including events that happened in my own personal history, and every useless fact I've ever learned is easily retrieved. Everyone still has free will, so I can't make someone fall for me or whatever, but here, when someone says, "No hard feelings," it really works out that way. I can have virtual sex with anyone I want. So even though everyone in my utopia has free will, that's the loophole. All my former pets are there, and I can have new ones. My favorite dead musicians produce really good new music in the afterlife. Everyone is completely honest. If anyone's feelings are hurt, they can discuss it openly until the situation is ameliorated.

So, that's about it. If I think of anything else I'll add it later. Oh and finally, since all of that probably won't work out the way I want, I'll take magic any damn day of the week. I seriously want to be a witch. . . Harry Potter has spoiled everything for me. (I say aguamenti on a semi-regular basis, and I get really mad when nothing happens. I also say avada kedavra, but in that case it's a good thing I'm not a witch.)

Sadly this is how I spend my time.

Yesterday at work, I made these lolcats instead of doing anything that could be considered productive.

Go me.

Basically a grandma, just not in the technical sense.

It's Saturday night and I'm at the library studying / not studying. I cut my hair last week. I had it cut by someone else, but since I spent 10K to learn how to be a hairdresser, I just had to cut it some more myself. I think it looks good, and I think it might make me look older. I bought some wine the other night and wasn't carded. Tonight though, I bought beer (okay, malt liquor. . . (for someone else)) and was carded. So who knows? Now I'm off to get groceries and have a glass of wine at home. I suppose that my life has slowed down considerably. I wasn't really aware of it until now. It's okay, though. I always thought I had the mind of an old woman. Now I have the activity level and bedtime of one.

I have no idea why anyone reads this.

This is probably going to be a boring post, but considering I haven't posted anything in almost 2 weeks, I don't really care. I haven't been depressed or whoring myself around or anything that my last post might have indicated. I've honestly been the busiest I've been in a long while. School has started and I'm taking 15 hours instead of my usual 12. (Yeah, I'm kind of a slacker as a general rule. . . What, are you new here?) I'm working 24 hours a week, which doesn't seem like a lot to me or you, probably, but I have the second highest number of hours of all the student employees, so comparatively, it is a lot.

Anyway, I have 2 teachers that I absolutely love and that almost makes up for the 3 I can't really stand. And all of my classes have material that is definitely going to challenge me. And I'm being serious when I say that I am completely excited about that. I broke my car engine the other day, but everything else is going so well, that really hasn't been too much of a big deal. It's really weird, but I think I'm a lot calmer than I used to be. I'm not sure why that is, but I'll take it. Also, I've been cooking, and in case you forgot (or never knew), I'm obsessed with red lentils. I think I've almost perfected my masoor dal (or daal or dahl or dhal) recipe, and I'll post that when I'm satisfied. Hopefully I can get to typing before the end of the month.

Wasting time is far too enjoyable.

Friend of a friend wrote this survey. Pretty funny shit.

The best tasting M&M color is...
red.

Who's outlook on life needs the most adjustment — Oscar the Grouch or Eeyore?
Eeyore is a little bitch.

Funyuns are...
stinky.

Name one reality TV personality who needs a good cock-punching.
Ryan Seacrest. I know he's a host, but seriously, who's gonna argue with that?

Kansas or Boston?
Boston.

Name someone or something who you've thrown up on?
My own sweater.

Slush puppies or Icees?
Icees.

Vampire or Zombie movies?
Zombie.

Worse to be surrounded by...hippies or hipsters?
One is smelly and one just sucks. Hipsters.

The one drink that turns me into a heinous bitch/ ornery douchebag is...
Tequila.

How many robot sluts attack your friend request inbox per day?
Zero.

Better pet — E.T or Gizmo (or any other mogwai)?
E.T.

Would you rather do Jodie Foster in Maverick or in Nell?
Umm, neither, but if I were a dude. . . Maverick. And I'd definitely do Mel Gibson in Maverick. That was before he turned anti-semitic and crazy.

Worst public bathroom you've had to endure?
Churchill's "Pub" in Miami.

Favorite terrible movie?
Some would argue that all the movies I like are terrible, but I think I'll go with 50 First Dates.

Worst place you've woken up?
Ugh. On the floor, freezing cold. This has happened more than once.

Weirdest food item consumed from a gas station?
I ate a BLT one time. It was not good.

Dane Cook...
used to be funny.

Where were you when Janet Jackson sent a nation into a panic at the site of an expose part of the human anatomy?
Asleep? I think it was naptime for me. I didn't watch the Super Bowl that year.

Favorite frozen treat?
Anything involving Oreos and vanilla ice cream.

Favorite state fair food?
Funnel cake.

Your thoughts on clowns?
Creepy, duh.

Would your rather have participated in Legends of the Hidden Temple or GUTS?
Legends of the Hidden Temple, duh.

Sexiest body part: Feet, ears, or elbows?
Ears?

Would you have Ken Jennings' children?
No. Ken Jennings is an ass-clowning d-bag.

Toad-licking or robo-tripping?
The first one.

The wait is over.

So, I think it's a good time to explain my thoughts on the new Britney Spears album, Blackout. You can make fun of me all you want, and I don't really give a crap. I'm not going to force anyone to listen to it or like it, but I'm not going to pretend that I don't. It's not that I think that this is a seminal or even semi-important record, but it is good. As I described it to one friend, it is surprisingly, disturbingly good. That friend expressed her disappointment because she was hoping that Britney would "crash and burn". My sister, on the other hand, has been repeating the mantra, "I knew she would come back triumphant". I don't side with either of these camps, because honestly, it doesn't matter to me if Britney sells her children or sells a million records. I don't know the girl, and while her madness is certainly entertaining, it doesn't affect me one iota.

Onto the music. Although its over-production is apparent, this album is pop perfection. As far as I can tell, Britney didn't write any of the music or lyrics (and that is a pleasant surprise if you remember anything she's "written" in the past). So, basically what we have here is a former star with enough money to pay people to make her sound good. Or her label paid them, whatever. The point is, money talks, and that's the primary reason Blackout is worth a listen. There aren't any redeeming qualities to Ms. Spears' voice. But they can fix that with digitization or what-have-you. And the beats are deliciously pop-ish, and it's kind of fun how everything is done in a very cheeky, cute style.

You've probably already heard the first single, "Gimme More". I think it's great. It's not my favorite track, but it's up there. If you didn't like it, what is wrong with you? Seriously. Get over yourselves, that song is really damn good. "Radar" is also on my top list. It's really good, with some necessary voice morphing making the song that much better. What I referred to as cheeky and cute earlier could be described for this song with another 'c' adjective, cheesy. The radar blip sound effects are a bit much, but if you can laugh at the comedic effect without analyzing whether or not it's intentionally funny, you might enjoy yourselves.

"Break the Ice" is my favorite song. It contains some of the dirtiest lyrics ever, "Can you rise to the occasion? I'm patiently waiting, cause it's gettin' late, and I can't get enough. So let me get it up." Honestly, a lot of why I like this record is because I've been having some issues with myself. I've been feeling kind of unattractive lately, and because Britney is such a tramp, it kind of makes me feel better about myself. Not just because I look better in comparison, but it's kind of put me in touch with my own femininity (sorry if this is tmi). And when I heard, "once you warm up to me, I can make you feel hot," that kind of resonated with me and made me realize that I might have something to offer. I know that that sounds stupid because I just typed it, but I don't really care. This has been an self-image problem I've been dealing with and if Britney's frickin' album helped it, I'm going to give her the frickin' credit.

"Freakshow" is a nice bit of ridiculousness and enjoyable in every way. I like "Toy Soldier" if just for the intro. It's really funny and silly. "Hot as Ice" is a fabulous song and reminds me more of her early stuff. Kind of in the same vein as "I'm a Slave 4 U", if you at all know what I'm talking about. . . Also, it sounds like she's trying to channel Betty Boop. She does that in "Toy Soldier" too, it's kind of weird, but I like it. "Ooh Ooh Baby" is my second favorite song. Apparently it samples from "Happy Together" by The Turtles which you can tell, and that gives the song an upbeat mood. Last song worth talking about is "Why Should I Be Sad", if only because Pharrell produces it. And you'll be (completely disinterested) to know that he is totally on Team Britney according to Mtv's shitty review of Blackout.

So, I've only mentioned the songs I really, really like. I don't think it's necessary for me to go over everything (this post is long enough already). And I'm spent. By the way, I didn't pay for the cd, I just copied my sister's, but why don't you download a song if you're even mildly interested? If you like it, throw her a couple of bones. After all, she's got kids and dogs and a K-Fed to feed and keep in diapers. . . and a crystal meth habit that's getting kinda expensive.

I'm still alive, only I'm very badly burned.

I burned the roof of my mouth on the mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner. It still hurts. That's pretty much the most exciting thing I've got going on right now. But anyway. . .

There are a number of things I want to write about today. The first is to compile the funny quotes, texts, and e-mails I've heard, said, received, sent in the past year. That will probably be put on hold until the end of the year. The second is to discuss temper in a historical, autobiographical context. That will probably have to wait as well, because I plan on getting pretty personal and I'm not quite ready to air all my dirty laundry and closet-residing skeletons on the internets yet. The third is my take on the new Britney Spears cd, and although it is embarrassing that I like it, much of what I admit via this blog is embarrassing. So, expect a Britney post soon, maybe today if I'm feeling inspired. And stay tuned for the former two topics at a later date. (Oh, and this was really just a chance to jot down these ideas before I forget. Sorry if I bored you.)

Who the heck is reading this?

I've received a lot of views this week. Not that I completely believe the numbers, but it is odd, considering I haven't read my own blog all week. And especially since there haven't been any/many comments. Whatever.

My head hurts and I'm drinking a beer before I go to work. I'm really frustrated with work lately, and I need to find a new job, but my priority has to be school right now since the semester is almost over. But the good news is, I am totally on top of everything today. I ran a lot of errands and I am as prepared as I can possibly be for my "close-up" on Friday morning. Woo-hoo??

I also washed my sheets, because the dog apparently has incontinence issues and has peed on my bed twice in the past month. No, that wasn't a fun sensation when I awoke this morning. So I'll be sleeping alone from now on. Which might be a nice change, who knows?

But I did not shoot the deputy.

This weekend I have to go to Nashville to turn myself in. It's not terrible, I apparently had a suspended license from failing to pay a parking ticket, and then I got a misdemeanor, blah, blah, blah. Supposedly if I show up on Friday morning and pay them a bunch of money, it won't go on my record. Of course, it does involve getting mugshots taken and getting fingerprinted, and I have to be honest, I'm about to hyperventilate right now thinking about it. Luckily (?) I have a friend who had this happen to her, so I'm not quite as stressed because she told me what to expect.

Anyway, the point is, on Saturday, I'm going to be ready to stick it to the man, and I want to go out and get supremely hammered. So, if anyone wants to go with, and by anyone, I mean anyone who lives near Nashville, let me know. Because if I have a shitty time, I may not be back to visit for a long while. (You assholes know you would miss me, stop rolling your eyes.)

She just thinks she's so damn smart.

I think I've started getting migraines. I'm not sure and I try not to diagnose myself anymore, because that is just so not helpful. But, my dad gets them and since he's passed on almost every negative aspect of his health to me already (depression, sleep problems, ADD, weak joints), I'm pretty sure that it's a possibility. So, I'm gonna do something crazy. . . go to the doctor. I know it sounds weird, but maybe I should listen to a guy who went to medical school and has experience treating medical conditions instead of looking up my symptoms on Wikipedia. (Not to mention that I already looked it up on Wikipedia and it said that coffee was both a trigger and a cure. It's hard to change my self-diagnostic hypochondriac ways, shut up.)

You look half-dead half the time.

I'm awake. It's sorta late. I'm avoiding typing up my Geology notes for a study guide by goofing around on the internets. I have a test on Friday. I have a paper due on Thursday. I have to give a presentation on Thursday. I have to finish reading The fucking Sound and the Fury by Thursday, too. Why do I do this to myself?

Oh, and I'm also thinking up anagrams of my name. Because that's obviously important. . .

Around the way girl.

Umm, that is one of my favorite rap songs, ever. Anywho. . .

Halloween is approaching and I don't have a costume yet. Even though I didn't get a chance to wear my "Your Mom" costume last year, the idea is already played out in my head, and I can't do that. In case you haven't heard about that one (or if you want to steal it), the idea was to wear a turtleneck / windbreaker outfit with white tennis shoes. Gold chain pendant on the outside of the turtleneck, poufy hair, heavy makeup. When people ask who I'm dressed up as, I reply, "your mom." Man, that was an awesome idea. Oh well. Year before that I was K-Fed (a full year before Andy-fuckin' Roddick btw). That was a sweet-ass costume too.

Right now I'm not feeling very creative. Amy Winehouse would be funny, but I'm not really thin enough for that. Hmmm, I'll have to think on this. In other, completely unimportant news, I took a midterm today. I'm pretty sure I made an A, not bragging, just truthful. In philosophy, we had a class debate on abortion which was as incredibly hellacious as it sounds. In another class, we discussed The Awakening, and if I have to read that again, I might have to drown myself. So, yeah, school is going great. Really friggin' great.

Unravel the paper flowers 'til the colors look neat.

So, I quit smoking. Two, maybe three weeks ago, I'm not really sure. Not good at the whole "concept of time" thing. I really wish I could say that it was difficult, because that would mean I have awesome willpower, but it really wasn't hard at all. I don't crave cigarettes, I don't think about it, I don't really even care. I remember once, long ago, I bought a box of nicotine patches to help me quit. Umm, it didn't work because they made me sick. Like nausea, the shakes, et cet. Turns out I didn't smoke enough to require the use of patches, gum, and the like. Kind of sad actually. Plus, those things are expensive, shit.

Anyway, I guess the question is, why did I quit? Why now? My dad gives me disappointed looks every time he sees a pack in my car. He tells me that I'm going to die of cancer like my Uncle Steve. (Yeah, he really says that.) But that wasn't enough. I can deal with disappointing my parents, I've been doing so since I was about seven. Here's the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back: a kitten. See my sister's cat was never spayed, so when she snuck out, she got knocked up. She had FIVE kittens. Poor thing, she was gigantic. Anyway, I said I would take one of the boys. Two were going to her roommate, one to her other roommate, and one to a friend. So one went to Nashville with the friend. It died. I was so mad for awhile, I thought maybe they didn't take care of her, or something. Then we took the rest of the kittens for their first check-up. They have feline leukemia. I cried for about two days. Basically, it's like AIDS. It will eventually become active and will destroy their immune systems until they die from a disease they get because their immune systems can't fight it. If this innocent kitten can be born with something that will kill him, why am I purposefully increasing my own chances of dying? Anyway, it sounds way stupid now, but that's what it was. I'm going to keep Rocky (named after Balboa, because he's a fighter) until the virus becomes active. They can test him periodically, and I'll watch him for symptoms. He is an amazing little guy, and just so I don't end this on a completely depressing note, here are some gratuitous kitten pictures:

And I promise my next post won't be so dreary.

Giving birth is fun.

Ummm, I wouldn't know anything about that, but celebrating birth is fun. My birthday is one month away today. I think it's important to acknowledge the passage of time, whether it's by a round number rolling around on the odometer, or using candles to mark years of existence. I like my birthday. I don't plan things, and I don't build it up, because doing so would jinx me, I'm certain. But generally I think it's nice to think that I lasted one more year. And if I'm lucky enough to have friends who want to take part in festivities in my honor, that's really awesome. I'm feeling good about my 24th year. I really am.

And this is what I've learned about myself from my rising sign. It supposedly defines your personality better than your sun or moon. If you know me, you know, this shit is scary true:

Rising Sign is in 14 Degrees Scorpio
You tend to be quiet, reserved, secretive and, at times, quite difficult to understand. Others notice your deep emotions and feelings and wonder how to draw you out. Stubborn and tough, you fight for any position you believe in. You are very resourceful and formidable when you become angered or upset about something. You enjoy living life at the cutting edge -- for you life must be experienced intensely and totally. Quite courageous, you are willing to take calculated risks. Easily hurt by others, you often strike back with bitter sarcasm. Sensitive and curious, you are concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology. Once you have become interested in any subject, you pursue it with total fanaticism.

Not sure about that last sentence, fanatical, not really, but I will Google it. Is that like a lazy fanatic?

I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell.

Sometimes (okay, a lot of times) I think of stuff that I think is funny, but no one else does. I get ideas, like, "What if I put so-and-so in my myspace top 8, they would be so creeped out." I think that would be fucking hilarious. But I don't want to scare people. I say things in public that are simply ridiculous and totally inappropriate.

Also, I think that the more uncomfortable someone else is, the more comfortable I am. For some reason, watching someone squirm gives me a feeling of serenity and it boosts my confidence. That's probably because I'm an evil person. But the opposite is also true. When I'm around someone who has their shit together and is like, collected, it freaks me the fuck out. It makes me feel all stressed, and then the verbal spewage begins, and then it's all over, and this person just thinks I'm a psycho.

So, yeah, I don't know what my point is. But I really wish that someone thought my weird ideas were funny too. If you're ever hanging out with me, act really nervous, and then I'll be on my game, and we can talk shit about people, because that's like my favorite thing ever. I mean, I like most people, I just also like to make fun of most people. Damn, I really am a terrible person.

I gots to quit drinking.

I sort of have a social life again, and it's seriously about to kill me. I'm too old for this shit. I wasn't that hungover this morning, but after driving for 3 hours, it started to kick in. Also, I have to stop being a fucking idiot. Seriously, I am the dumbest person I know. I woke up at 8 to drive back to Knoxville and work. I get to work only to remember that I asked for today off a few weeks ago. Maybe it's time to get a calendar.

Okay, here are my summer resolutions:
1. Don't finish off the whole bottle of wine in one night.
2. Take advil before going to bed when drunk.
3. Drink lots of water when out.
4. Buy a calendar.
5. Use the calendar.
6. Sleep less.
7. Take vitamins.
8. Don't eat Krystal, Taco Bell, et cetera when wasted.
9. Actually, no fast food at all, ever
10. Don't take a shot of Jager right before the bar closes.
11. Don't text friends when wasted. You're not that funny.
12. Realize that even though beer has calories, it is not a sensible dinner.
13. Don't buy people drinks.
14. Stop taking medicine on an empty stomach and then wondering why you feel sick.
15. Finish a book.
16. Figure out how to achieve world peace.

Wow. That's a pretty long list. Damn. I don't know if I can really do all of that. But anyway, I'll give it a shot.