I'm Not an Addict, It's Cool, I Feel Alive

I've started getting this weird "yoga high" after I go to class. My body feels kind of tingly and warm and stretchy and good. It's kind of freaky.

I was also definitely craving yoga the other day. I only got to go once last week, due to work schedule wackiness.

None of my muscles hurt after today's class! Unless, you know, I tense them and stuff. But nothing majorly painful.

In other Big Hippie news, I'm on to the second square in the scarf I'm knitting. (It's going to be big squares of pastel pink and purple. Scarily girly, even for me.)

Knit Wit

My friend Naomi came over and taught me how to knit today, so I have another crafty skill to add to my arsenal. I'm making a scarf using garter stitch! It's coming pretty nicey so far, if I do say so myself. A couple dropped stitches, but nothing majorly bad. (I did take it completely apart and restart it three times.)

Unfortunately, the heat/humidity make all thoughts of cozying up to a giant ball of yarn rather unpleasant. I'm using this giant skein of pink yarn I bought a while ago. It's Lion Brand's "A Pound of Love", and it's bigger than my head.

Also, it's really hot and gross in my apartment, and I smell bad.

You totally want me now, don't you?

Xtina, Girl, Call Me!

My former roommate Emily and I were talking on the phone today about Christina Aguilera, and we came to this conclusion:

The beauty of Christina Aguilera is that she knows what she likes, and she's not ashamed of it. You read interviews with the girl, she's all, "You know what I really like? Fuckin! Hey, you want to hear about the lesbian sex I had last night? Hey, see this bruise? That's a bruise from kinky sex!"

The reason you haven't had sex with Christina Aguilera yet is not because you're not famous enough, or hot enough, or rich enough. It's just because you haven't met her yet. Christina would totally do you!

Christina's not going to pull that shit where you get drunk and screw and the next morning she's all, "I really enjoyed making love to you. I hope this doesn't alter our friendship." She's going to fuck the shit out of you, and the next morning you'll go to Denny's or something, and afterwards she'll be all, "Oh, man, I have to jet, I've got this music video. Call me sometime, okay?" Then she'll leave, and you'll realize that she never gave you her number. But it's cool, cause you weren't really planning to call her anyway. Christina's not that kind of girl.

Whoop!

Comments should now be slightly ugly, but lacking in weird problems.

Some Thoughts on Dating

I've come to the conclusion that I'm against it, mainly.

Unbeknowst to most of you, I went on a bunch of dates a couple of months ago. I went on dates with five people of various ages and genders, picked purely for their willingness to put out making up a sample population diverse enough to be scientifically accurate.

There were a disproportionate number of people in bands in my scientific dating sample. For those of you who are thinking dating people in bands, I have this tip: don't. For those of you who are in bands, I have this tip: I do not care about your dumb ass band at all. I do not want to hear about it all the goddamned time. Do I talk about my work all the time? No, because that would be boring.

The problem with dating is this: Ninety percent of the people in the world just suck. They're stupid, annoying, and/or bad people. And if you date, your dating sample includes them. Yeah, I'm lowering the changes of going on a date with someone whose actually geniunely evil by picking people up at indie rock shows rather than Republican conventions, but if you're reasonably intelligent you raise the number of unsuitable dating partners to like, 99 percent anyway. And don't even get me started on lesbians, who appear to actually be allergic to me.

So, anyway, I went on a bunch of dates. And they pretty much ranged from mediocure to okay. (Although I did manage to get someone to stop speaking to me within a week of knowing me. I have that effect on the ladies.) Then I realized that going on dates wasn't really that fun. So I decided to stop. I could devote the time and energy I would have spent dating on stuff I liked, like craft projects and watching Buffy! Who needs to have sex when you can spend that time crocheting a cozy for your vibrator?

It's actually kind of great living la vida sans dating. It's as though a great burden has been lifted from me. It turns out that when you stop worry about how no one will ever really love you, your life gets a lot less stressful.

The downside is that I really don't know anyone it would be appropriate for me to have a crush one, so I'm getting crushes on completely innapropriate people. But I'm being very picky about what would constitute an appropriate person, which I think is a good thing. Especially as those of you familiar with my dating past know that what I considered innapropriate in the past would consist of . . . god, I don't know, killing puppies on the first date or something. But now, they definitely would even be allowed to maim a puppy without me tossing them to the curb. Assuming, of course, that there are not free drinks involved.

The Devil vs. Strawberry Shortcake

Last night I went to a birthday party for Jill, Star, and the blogless Amy.

I totally, totally kicked ass at Twister. I ownz you, bitches! It came down to Phil and I in a death match, which Emmett described as being like watching Strawberry Shortcake and the Devil play twister. (I was Strawberry Shortcake. I never get to be the Devil!)

I met Laurie, who is cute as a button.

There was cake, and it was good.

We have started a blog mafia, and are pressuring all the non bloggers to get blogs. Come on, non bloggers! It would be a shame if someone didn't have a blog and happened to fall down and break their kneecaps, know what I'm saying?

It's HOT!

Jesus christ, it's like the face of the sun out there.

Air conditioning is so my demon lover. I don't care how much it costs, it feels so good.

Dreams

A dream I had sometime last week:

I had all these houseplants, but they were all dead because I had forgotten to water them. We had all these frogs that we were trying to keep in this aquarium, but it was completely filled with frogs, they kept over flowing and getting out and hopping everywhere and I kept accidentally stepping on them and feeling horribly guilty. Then I realized that I had a ferret, I had accidentally brought it in as a baby and then completely forgotten about it, and the ferret kept biting me because it was mad at me. And then Jill's boyfriend was there, and he put the ferret in a cage for me and told me that it would eventually stop biting me once I started taking care of it.

Dream I had last night:
I was at the beach with my dad and we were goofing off and having fun. My (crazy) boss called my dad and asked him if he thought I was working hard, and he said that he didn't think and he said no. So then my boss yelled at me about it, and I was mad at my dad for saying I wasn't working hard, and then he said, "Well, you weren't at the time."

The weird thing is that I'm insanely overworked right now. It feels like I'm basically doing the work of two people, and I'm constantly doing two or three things at once. But in my dreams I'm guilty and feel like I should be working harder.

Stupid subconscious. What the hell is wrong with you?

Make-up Photos

Smile

Smirk

Stare

Reasons I Am a Big Hippie

• Yoga.
• Vegetarian.
• Lesbian.
• Un-shaved legs.
• Whole Foods.
• Bert's Bees.
• Sew my own clothes.
• Crochet.
• No TV.
• Leftist nutball.

So Much Pink Make-up

I went to Sephora today, which was either a fantastic idea or a huge mistake, depending on how you look at it. Rachel decided she really wanted one of the women to give her one of those "make-up consultations" where they put make-up on you and tell you want colors to wear and stuff. So I decided to have one too, as they were free and it's fun to have people put make-up on you.

The great thing about it is that while they're doing it, they tell you how great your features are. They're like, "You have great cheek-bones! And your eyes are so amazing! And your lashes are great! And look, when we put this foundation on, it brings out how incredible your skin is!" And then they get done and you're all made up and gorgeous and you're like, "Wow, I do have great cheekbones!"

The bad part is that sometimes they say things like, "Foundation will help." And also, afterwards you may temporarily take leave of your senses and buy a whole goddamned lot of make-up.

Also, I got a make-up lady who was very into getting me make-up that matched my hair, which fulfilled both my pink fetish and my compulsive matching fetish. She made my eyebrows pink! It was awesome!

I now have a lot of pink make-up. And also foundation. Because foundation does help.

A little girl on the train back to Philly said, "You're so beautiful!" to me, and it was totally completely adorable and completely justified my huge make-up purchase. Little girls on the train think I'm beautiful! If only girls my age thought I was beautiful, my life would rock!

Pink!

The lovely Babs sent me a link to the Think Pink photoshop contest.

Pink does rule.

Adventures with Laptop

I brought my laptop with me to NYC, because I felt it needed to bond with me, much like a new born chick with its mother. Which meant that I got to watch Buffy on the train, because my laptop has a DVD player. Technology is my best friend. I also got to install Quicken and Norton Anti-virus on the train.

I got a laptop case with my laptop. I'm not sure how, as I definitely did not order it, but it's here now, and it's semi-useful, so I'm keeping it. However, it is also large, bulky, and leather. It's kind of the opposite of anything I would choose to own. I like to pretend that wearing it makes me look like a business professional, but I have the sneaking suspicion it just causes cognitive disodence in those who see me instead. Also, as mentioned, it's leather, so I'm not sure I can even sew a patch on it or something to make it slightly better. It's not even like, smooth leather, it's the bumpy kind which I really don't like. However, it is nice and padded and keeps my laptop safe, which is what's important.

Also, bringing the laptop case meant I couldn't bring my backpack, which means I have twice as much luggage as I need.

I feel my laptop is named Fredricka, after the AS Byatt character.

Comment Please

Is everyone having problems with the comments? If so, what kind of problems?

I will try to fix them, but not anytime in the next week, most likely.

I'm Tired

I want to crawl into a cave and sleep for about seven years. And when I come out, I'd like my bills to be paid and my apartment to be clean and everything I have to do at work to be done and for it not to be so goddamned humid and for me to not want to bite people anymore. Oh, yes, and I'd also like a pony.

I've just been crazy busy and a little stressed out lately.

At work, I've been put in charge of an impossible project that they've decided is due in two weeks. Plus the five other random projects I've got, two of which are due Wednesday. (I found out about the two due Wednesday today. I haven't started either yet.) Oh, and let's not forget my normal daily/weekly tasks. And my schedule sucks. It doesn't suck hugely, but it sucks.

I emailed the NetOps guy today to ask him something for the impossible project, and he referred me to a program that I just finished writing. I was like, "Thanks! That's helpful! Except totally not!"

Julie was here from Sunday through Wednesday, which was wonderful, except that I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with her, do to the aforementioned work. I will see her again briefly in New York this weekend, hopefully. (I think I'm going up Friday night and coming back Sunday night.) Lev, Rachel and Dani all just moved there, so we're all going to be crashing at their place. I'm really excited about seeing everyone, but I also kind of wish I got another weekend.

I just want some time to play with my new laptop (I think I might name it Fredricka), clean, watch movies, and do craft projects.

But lord knows when I'll get another weekend off, so off to NYC I go!

I think I should get a housewife. I just want someone who will cook, pay the bills (with my paycheck, of course), and vacuum in high heels. Between the housewife thing and social acceptance of functional alcoholism, fifties business men really had it made, when you think about it. I could sure use a three martini lunch.

My Arms Hurt

Between yoga and retrieving my laptop from the FedEx place yesterday (and dragging it halfway across the city), my upper arms hurt a lot.

Also, I am leaning towards Barbarella.

Laptop!

I'm totally typing this on my sexy-ass new laptop. It's silver! It has blue lights! I'm on my couch!

Whoop!

I am currently taking laptop name suggestions.

I'm A Big Hippie

Today I went to yoga. I was kind of worried they would make myself twist myself into knots and then laugh at me when I fell over in some sort of bizarre yoga hazing ritual, but instead they were very nice and I could actually do almost all of the positions.

The best part was at the end, when we were all tired and stretched out, and we got to lie on our mats with the lights out and breathe. Exercise that involves nap time is the best kind of exercise. I feel all good and stretchy now.

Of course, tomorrow I will most likely be unable to walk.

No Comment

From my Free Will Astrology Horoscope for the week:

"You're at the peak of your capacity to blend sensual pleasure with spiritual inspiration. A great way to express that would be to feast upon a delicious embodiment of the god or goddess you love best."

Now Even Geekier!

You can now skin me and wear my skin as a coat make my site all pretty.

There's also a sidebar link to the skins. All two of them. Whoooo!

This just affects the main page, and not the archives or the coments. That might change. Or it might not. I am capricious and whimsical, after all.

LitP: Now with PHP!

So, this site is now skinnable.

But I haven't made any skins yet.

So you're just going to have to trust me on this one.

Rain + Flip Flops + Marble Stairs = OUCH!

So, um, I fell down my stairs yesterday. The marble ones outside my building. And it hurt.

I would show you the bruises, but they're on my ass.

It hurts where I sit, people. That's not a good thing. I do a lot of sitting.

Right after I fell down my stairs, I went out and got caught in a massive thunderstorm.

Yesterday was not my day.

Grrrrr Arrrrgh Hate

Hey, remember how I've really liked my job for the past month? Those were some good times, weren't they?

Yesterday they fired one of the people who does the phone number retrieval part of my job. Which means that we now have three people covering 15 shifts. And I'm in charge of scheduling.

I actually got the schedule set up for the next week with only minor problems. The biggest problem was that one of my co-workers had a dentist appointment Friday morning and a class Saturday morning. So she can't work the Friday day shift because of the dentist appointment, she can't work the Friday night shift because she has to wake up early Saturday, and she can't work the Saturday day shift. And her days off are Monday and Tuesday.

So I schedule her so she has all the time off she needs and she's working Monday instead. And then she comes in and she's all, "Oh, I can't work Monday or Tuesday, those are my days off, I have a million things scheduled."

If she had written this on the calendar like I've repeatedly told her too, I would have scheduled around her.

So I reschedule for the third time, making my shifts even crappier. And then she spends like, twenty minutes bitching because she has some shifts where she has to work nights and then days! Well, sorry princess, but if you hadn't decided you couldn't work three of your assigned shifts maybe everything wouldn't be so fucked up.

I mention that I'm trying to come up with a new weekly schedule to base things off of, because last time we had three people we did this thing where our schedules rotated from week to week and it was a total pain in the ass. And she says, "Well, it seems like my shifts rotate all the time anyway."

1. Way to insult the person who decides when you're going to work. At this point I want to make her come in at five in the morning just for the sheer joy of seeing her suffer.
2. Maybe your shifts wouldn't change all the time if you could work when you're supposed to!

Then this morning she calls to ask me to trade yet another shift with her. And whines about how her life sucks because she has to work all the time yet again. Oooh, I feel so sorry for you! Because I'm totally not in the same situation, only worse because I have to pick up the slack for you!

Do you think you get fired for punching coworkers in the face?

Sock Monkey Me!

I don't mean to alarm anyone, but I appear to have been made into a sock monkey.

I wonder if I can justify spending $30 on sock monkey me. Sock monkey me is so cute! And I have always wanted an action figure/doll of myself. I could make people talk to the sock monkey instead of me, and then have the sock monkey answer them.

Link via lovely lovely Uffish.

Things Y'all Can Just Step the Fuck Off Of Already

• L.A. Everyone's all like, "wah wah, LA is all fake nice and stuck up and you need a car and wah wah wah." Well, we may be fake nice, but at least we're not fucking New York. I'll take stuck up and fake nice over stuck up and rude any day. And it's not like LA is one place, anyway. It's a bunch of places, that are kind of close together. And you drive to them. And there are nice views. And the weather is nice. And there's no fucking humidity.
• The Donnas. They are girls. They are punk. They sing about fucking and doing drugs. They're not trying to be anything else, so quit it with being all, "Blay blay not musically talented blay blay not feminist blay." I can rock out to 40 Boys in 40 Nights, and that's all that matters.
• Avril Lavigne. Yeah, so now you're totally not going to believe me about The Donnas being good, but I like Avril in that cheesy bad pop way, rather than that . . . uh, cheesy bad punk way. Yeah, Avril's just as produced as everyone else. But she's all cute and punky! Wuzza wuzza wuzza. And hey, it's not like they're going to let like, a crusty punk do what she does. At least this way one of the pop princesses is a little edgy. And by "edgy" I mean "has a look I consider sexually attractive." She could stand to stop making that face all the time, though. One day her face is going to freeze that way. (I am 80!)
• Josie and the Pussycats. No one (except Movie Night people, who I have proven it too) believes me when I say that this is the best movie ever. You think it's just going to be a cheesy teen flick, but instead it's a totally hilarious parody about pop culture. It's really really good! I swear to god! You have to watch it on the DVD so you can see the fake boy band "Backdoor Lover" video. It's like, the best thing ever.

In conclusion, don't hate the playa, hate the game.

I'm Such a Girl!

• Bath poof.
• Almond body wash.
• Color-safe shampoo.
• Color-revitalizing/protecting conditioner.
• Fancy minty shampoo.
• Fandy minty conditioner.
• Avocado hair treatment.
• Citrus facial scrub.
• Facial cleanser.
• Special anti-bump shaving cream.
• Pink disposable razor.
• Sugar scrub.

• Piece of pumace on a string.
• Razor.

Geek Out!

I ordered this laptop on Friday. I am totally, totally excited about it! It gets here in like, 12 days, at which point I plan to dissapear into my bedroom and never come back out. (Insert yr. own joke here.)

I souped mine up a little bit. I put in the Intel P-4 M 2.2 Ghz processor, the 15" SXGA display, more RAM, a bigger harddrive, and wireless capability. I keep telling myself that I don't need a wireless network in my apartment right now, as I would have to buy a wireless router, but I do need a wireless LAN! I do, I do! Cause, really, how cool would it be to have a wireless network in my apartment. (Um, don't answer that, please.)

I'm also kind of freaked out that I've made some sort of hideous mistake and this computer will really suck or something. This is the largest purchase I've ever made in my entire life. It's a semi-sensible purchase, in that my current computer is old and crotchety and liable to explode at any moment. And I can use it for work, what with being a computer programmer and all. And I researched it and stuff. (It's PCWorld's Best Buy!) But it's still a hell of a lot of money.

Which is why I must compulsively check my order tracking on the HP website every day. Right now, my order is being processed!

It's also something I really, really want. I was not completely unswayed by the matte silver case and blue and orange LEDs. (Shiny! Blinky!) It would probably be a lot more sensible to put the money all towards my student loans.

Of course, then when my computer explodes in two months, I would have no money and no computer and that would blow.

The weirdest part of this whole experience was when I was at Borders perusing a copy of PCWorld. (Before I realized that PC World costs $6.99 for hard copy! I pay $6.99 for a magazine, there had better be some naked ladies in it!) Anyway, this oldish guy, I'm guessing probably 50s to 60s, comes up and starts talking to me, and I'm like, "Blay blay researching notebook computers," and he's like, "Oh, don't worry about doing research, just buy a Dell." I think what he actually said may have had an even more, "Don't worry your pretty little head about it," feel to it.

I was just like, "Who the fuck are you to tell me not to do research on a major purchase?" The fuck? So I was just like, "Well, I'm a computer programmer, and the head programmer at my work recommended PC World's ratings." Then he told me a long complicated story about trying to get replacement parts for his Winbook.

This puchase is also really strange because I'm buying it with money I got from the insurance settlement from my ankle. It's kind of like, "Hit by a car? Free laptop!" I'm really uneasy with the concept of pain and suffering money.

The whole broken ankle experience was the most miserable I've ever been in my life. (With the noteable exception of when they pumped me full of morphine and flew me around in a helicopter. That was rad!) I was by myself for most of it, I was in more pain than I've ever been before or since, the doctors were mean, they wouldn't give me pain meds, I had to ride around in a freakin Rascal scooter for two months. My ankle is still slightly sore on a pretty regular basis, and still has a pretty Franken-ankle look going on. (Although my scars are pretty bad-ass.) I'm really not down the idea that I'm being paid for an experience that involved me being attached to a bag of my own piss for four days.

But, hey, free money is free money is free money, and I'm not proud. It's just that if someone's going to give me money in exchange for my life sucking, I broke up with my girlfriend a while ago. Anyone want to cough up a couple hundred for that? I could have used some morphine, too.

Follow-Up

Exactitudes. I feel this site is interesting in light of the crazy anthropology discussion that happened in the comments of my post about dating rules. It's very relevant my dad's thing about group affiliation signifiers.

Also, it kind of both fascinates me and squicks me out.

Link via both electrolicious and Mighty Girl.

Accordions are Cool

I had this conversation with my mom yesterday:
Mom: So are you doing anything tonight?
Me: I'm going to this crazy accordion thing my friend is in.
Mom: That sounds fun. Accordions are in right now.

It transpires that Emmett is in a bluegrass band, and they are quite good. Definitely made me want to throw a hoedown. They had a song which turned out to be entirely about stomping on chickens.

There were also about a million bike messengers there, because they were having crazy bike races in the bar. (The bikes were on rollers, and did not go anywhere.) One of the bike messengers kept doing some sort of crazy drunken jig in front of the stage and would also periodically try to go up on stage and take over the mike.

Also, I swear to god, the following coversation actually happened with the lead singer of the band that followed Emmett's band:
Emmett: So what do you do when you're not lead singing?
Lead Singer (Whose Name Was, I Swear, Shakey): I paint mythological figures.
(There follows a discussion of what kind of mythological figures he paints. Apparently, he includes the Christian mythology.)
Emmett: That must be fun.
Shakey: Well, it pays the bills.
(Exit Shakey)
Me: Did that man just say that painting mythological figures pays the bills?

There followed a lot of jokes involving Norse gods and the phrase "I'm Thorry."

(Related Anecdote. Conversation between Phil and I in a Chinese restaurant:
Me: What do you want to do tonight?
Phil: I don't know, I kind of feel like being lowkey this evening.
Me: I know you just mean chill, but it would be so much better if we were Norse trickster gods.

If you don't get it, try saying it aloud.)

I met Emmett's mom, who is insanely cool, and should have her own blog. Also, I am now in possession of certain embarassing childhood nicknames.

We're Here, We're Queer, We're Really, Really Wet

I went to the Dyke March yesterday, despite the fact that it was totally pouring rain.

There were actually cute girls my age there!

And I managed not to pick up any of them. Could someone get me some cute girl picking up skills ASAP? Maybe someone could tutor me or something. I'm clearly totally lacking in any and all chatting up skills. I just don't know how to approach cute girls. Like, "Um, hi, so, I happened to notice that you're hot . . ."

Argh.

Also, it was strange because we were marching through the gaybourhood, which is where I live. I'm not sure we were actually raising much visibility, since there were about ten people out on the streets. Plus, I think most of my neighbors have seen me making out with my ex-girlfriend in the hallway, and thus already know that I am here and queer.

Drugstores Are My Heroin

I went out and had super delicious Mexican food with Nicole this morning, and on the way back I stopped by CVS to pick up some Q-tips and dental floss.

(Aside: I had the following conversation with Phil about dental floss:
Me: Damn, I forgot to get dental floss.
Phil: Have you thought about the consequences of your fascist regime?
Me: Healthy gums?)

So of course, I leave CVS with Q-tips, dental floss, sparkly eyeliner in two different colors (Which I totally bought because Babs had some, and it looked really cute, and have I mentioned that I'm a huge biter?), and about a billion barettes.

As I walked home, I was like, "Well, I always do this when I go to the drugstore, but at least I didn't forget to buy the thing I actually needed, like I usually do."

Then I got home and discovered we're out of toilet paper.

But on the plus side, how totally cute are these hairclips?

(The answer, for those of you playing at home, is "Really fucking cute.")

The Dangers of My House

Last night, my roommate's boyfriend drunkenly confused my pink hair dye with pomade.

Because the World Might Explode If Every Single One of My Friends Didn't Have a Weblog

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Emmett.

Emmett, why don't you have comments? They're the default on Moveable Type, for Christ's sake.

Can I Go Back To the Kid's Table Now?

One of my co-workers is pregnant. Which lead to this big discussion today and apparently the Database Administrator's wife just got pregnant too, and everyone's standing around talking about their kids and I'm like, "Whoa! What's up with all the fucking breeders in my workplace?"

Except really, I was more like, "You guys are only 5 - 10 years older than me. And you're parents." I'm still a kid. At least, I identify as a kid. When I think of parents, I think of my parents. Not me.

I've known people my age who were either married or had babies for a while now. But before, when someone got knocked up or married, you were like, "That's fucked up, dude." Now people around my age are married or pregnant, and it looks really good on them. They look prepared for it or something. Whereas I cannot even begin to contemplate spending nine months without coffee, booze or hair dye.

Then again, a lot of people my age are either still in school or have dumb ass retail jobs. I'm really lucky in that I got a job that's actually in the field I want to go into straight out of college.

I'm okay with the part where I pay rent and buy food and pay bills and stuff. I can do that, in my own little haphazard way. I just can't deal with the part where people are all, "married babies 401K career WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?????"

Sometimes, I'm just like, "Hello, I'm clearly secretly twelve years old. Who let me in here? What am I doing?" Does that go away? Will I wake up one day, and be an adult? Or am I going to spend the rest of my life going, "I don't know! Why are you asking me? No, don't put me in charge! Hello, I have pink hair for Christ's sakes! I can't even take care of house plants! I'm clearly completely irresponsible!"

This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife.

It's Nice To Be Appreciated, I Guess

The other day I got an email that contained only the words "I want to fuck you in the ass" in maroon Arial. The return email address appears to have been auto-generated.

I am assuming that it's from someone who likes (?) this site, because my other option is that I got the most surreal spam ever.

Why I Haven't Replied To Your Email

I realize that I've been a total flake about email for the last, oh, year now. I always mean to respond to it, but I always feel all this pressure to be really witty and clever and it becomes this big deal, and so I put it off and then it's like, a month later and I still haven't responded but by that time it's way too late to answer it at all.

So I now have a clever plan that involves putting email that does not need responding to in different folders, and only keep email that I need to do stuff about in my inbox, in the hopes that it will motivate me. I do this at work, and it works really super well. Of course, at work answering my email is what I do when I want a break from real work, whereas at home, answering my email is what I do . . . never.

Anyway, if you get an email from me in response to something you sent me oh, six months ago, it's because I'm trying to be proactive and communicate.

The problem with this clever plan is that as soon as I reply to people's email, they reply to my email, and I have even more email. Dastardly fiends!

Addendum: Only 570 emails left in inbox!

Addendum 2: I have narrowed it down to 19 emails I actually have to deal with! Whoop!

Who Says Professionalism Is Dead?

Today at lunch, I managed to sexually harass Jill about a billion times, and give my manager the finger.

I don't think anyone noticed the finger part.

Then after lunch my manager walked into my office while I was dancing to Hedwig and told me to turn my music down.

Yeah, I imagine I'll be getting that raise any day now . . .

I also spent all afternoon try to fix a bug in the code that I couldn't even manage to duplicate, let alone find a solution to. I think I may have figured out what line of code it's in, though.

So then I was all cranky and depressed, and I went to CVS to buy contact solution and ended up buying an assload of beauty products that I don't need and will never use. Because obviously shiny blue nailpolish is the sensible answer to work stress.

And Now, For Something Completely Shallow . . .

Actual thoughts I had looking out of the window of the breakroom at work the other day. (It should be noted that I work/live right next to a hospital.):

Man, scrubs are so ugly. I can't believe people wear them in public. I could never be a doctor, I could totally never stand wearing scrubs all day.

Because who wants to save lives if you're going to be badly dressed while you do it?

I Am a Big Ol' Computer Geek

Sometimes I'll be at work and I'll have a moment of realization and go, "Holy shit! People are actually paying me to write code! That's so fucking rad!"

Then I have another moment of realization, and go, "God damn, I'm a geek."

When I was redesigning this site and converting over to MT, CSS, and random other initials, I totally became one of those people who codes all day and then goes home and writes more code.

May god have mercy on my geeky little soul.

Twins! Gross!

This Salon Article speaks to my soul, at least as far as Twin Porn is concerned.

Hello! They're twins! Related! Cloned, technically! That's gross! Why does no one get this?

I Ran Out of Internet

It's probably because it's Sunday, but I appear to have read the entire internet. Possibly twice.

Do you guys have any internet recommendations? I am particularily fond of crafty sites and blogs.