Hey, nice shirt, Ted. Is it yesterday already?

My Inner Pop Culture Blogging Whore is a teensy bit disappointed in herself. She has ignored her other blog, and updated this one less frequently than Angelina adopts a new underprivledged baby. She humbly requests your forgiveness.

I realize that the blogging has been sporadic at best this semester (made painfully evident by the fact that when I look back at the "Previous Entries" thingy I can still select the first entry I made this year...), but in 11 days I'll be finished with the semester. And then it's all blogging, all the time. *does snoopy dances before Lupe stops her*

This close of my first semester of real college does lend itself rather well to major panic attack like symptoms that leave me curled up in the fetal position on the floor because OH MY GOD I ONLY HAVE SEVEN SEMESTERS LEFT WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT MEDIA STUDIES MEANS. DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS???

*ahem*

Oh, and Little Miss NASCAR and I have realized that when we graduate, we'll have exactly the same degrees. We then realized that that was weird, and have decided that we seriously need to expand our social circles.

Only kidding.

Also, in 12 days I'll be able to sleep in. Which is completely unacceptable and I'm trying to forget about.

(This is not counting the two nights in Galena where Imladris and I are forced almost at gunpoint to share a glorified twin bed, which are always incredibly restful. *snorts*)

We've moved into the psychological disorders chapter in psychology. This, frankly, has proven to be a disappointment. Say whatever you want about me, but I admit that I love scandal. I was hoping for some weird fantasies, fetishes, or- dare I hope- even a little incest. Alas, that guy who wrote in to Dear Abby a couple years ago who was in love with his stepdaughter and liked looking her feet or something weird like that is nowhere to be found.

Instead I got OCD, depression, and general anxiety disorders. If I'd wanted to deal with those I'd just have stayed home. (Ha! *ahem* Sorry.)

I'm thinking of writing a letter to the textbook editor. Clearly he dropped the ball on this one.

There's a sign up in the breakroom about how we (meaning the company I work for) have decided to carry O.J. almost-new book as a service to our customers, but we will not promote it or profit from it. And then someone scrawled "DON'T WORRY CANCELLED" in very relived big letters all over it. Hehe.

I got a gift card at work for customer service. Obviously they don't read this blog. Heh.

Also, I'd like to openly threaten whoever decided that we should listen to Beethoven's ENTIRE Ninth Symphony at work on Saturday on repeat. And not just the pretty part that everybody knows, but the you-know-she's-gotta-be-huge-with-those-lungs screeching in German part that I fastforward through on my iPod. (That is if I could make myself take Awake off of rotation, which I can't yet. Shut up I'm normal.

I suppose it's better than when I had to listen to Evanesence's latest on loop for seven hours. I was ready to stick my hand in the pizza oven just because the sound of sizzling flesh would perhaps drown out Amy Lee's plaintative wailing about someone dying/leaving her/being drunk (Call Me When You're Sober? Oh Amy darling, have we fallen on hard times???).

Had major number of movie experiences this past couple of days, both at the theater and at home, and they cannot all simply pass into oblivion without mention.

First, new Bond. Oh. My. He's fantastic. So what if he has a daughter that's about five years younger than me and WHAT OH SHIT HE LIVED WITH THE WHORE FROM LOVE ACTUALLY!?!?!?!?!?! THE THE NECKLACE IS MINE BITCH ONE?!??!?!?!?!?!?! BITCH MUST DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!

*stops breathing*

Actually, the previous rant is a perfect lead in to my next movie, which was the annual holiday viewing of Love Actually that Imladris and I conducted this weekend. However, we mostly just yelled random stuff at the screen and laughed about the Neesons getting all up in each other sagginess.

I love how Emma Thompson is all haggard suburban housewife who's stuck making a paper mache lobster head and shuttling the kids around to whatever little British brats do instead of soccer while her husband is cheating on her with Bond's little tart and then like an hour in the writers are like, oh, and she's the Prime Minister's sister. What?

What else? Oh, finally saw Stranger Than Fiction. It was good. Not as good as I thought it would be, and felt way longer than the 103 minutes it was, but still good.

And on Sunday night Disney Channel ran the next American Girl movie, Molly. I love Molly. She was my second doll, and she was always my special one because Colleen thought she was ugly with the glasses and didn't want her (Wow. Kids *can* be cruel.). Disney, however, decided to make her Dad Jewish and screwed up the ending that is my favorite part of the entire series and still makes me cry. Shut up. *sigh*

Mary and I have decided that Kirsten or Kit will be next, because they are the most likely to have doll friends that need to be pimped out by Mattel.

Don't really feel like linking today, but Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson broke up. Let's light a candle and pray, children.

And I'd just like to pose an open question, but it seems as though all I've seen recently are pictures of Britney Spears out partying with some random hot person, and I'm starting to wonder where the hell her newborn and 15-month-old are. As if they don't have enough problems already.

Post Pre-Sale Update

Boo-yah. I'm going to see Josh in 96 days. On the floor. First section. That's right. My world makes sense again. It did not, however, make much sense when I was trying to get into the site (which had crashed) and was trying to stave off a nervous breakdown (didn't really work) and turned to lots and lots of coffee and chocolate chip cookies and swearing to calm self down (I believe I told my little brother to shove his video game system up his ass...I think).

But all is well, and I have tickets. Yay!!!


What else to talk about? School sucks, work kind of sucks, and I'm dying of a cold. I don't have time for a cold. So I am instead preferring to self-medicate, and spend half an hour in the aisle at Target trying to figure out which would be better, NyQuil sans decongestant or Robitussen with decongestant but without the comfortable familiarity of my beloved NyQuil. In the end, we decided that being decongested was more important than brand loyalty, and went with the Robitussen, which promises nighttime relief of all of my symptoms and indeed many more.

But for now we're doing the DayQuil/allergy medication/cough drops/whatever else I grabbed from the cabinet, and am in a lovely hazy sort of runny-nosed stupor. Meanwhile, I haven't eaten since eight-thirty, I'm not hungry, and colors seem so much brighter...

Tee-hee. Sharpies. I love shapries. We have now used them to color in the dents in the furniture. Really, we're not white trash. But sometimes your entertainment center needs a little bit of sprucing up after seven years of abuse from a a Lego-weilding pre-teen.

I like Sharpies more than people right now. I had to work last night, which was okay because at least we were busy, which is a startlingly different sort of feeling. But apparently, rather than advertising live music, we put out a flyer inviting every bitch in the county to come on in.

Bitch #1 ordered a half pound of beans and was irate when I informed her that we only sold them in the little bags and there wasn't really anything I could do about that. She then returned her cappuccino because it was too watery (there is no water in a cappuccino) and demanded another one.

Bitch #2 asked for a definition of every single item on the board and made sure that I knew she liked sweet drinks before finally settling on an egg nog latte. I made sure she knew this was just a latte made with egg nog, thus it might not be sweet enough for her. She said she knew that. So I made the drink.

Well, this was, of course, not correct. "What kind of milk did you use?" "Whole and egg nog." "Oh. Don't you have soy? I'm lactose intolerant."

How, pray tell, the hell was I supposed to know that??? So I informed her that the egg nog (which comprised half of the milk, btw) was also milk moron. She said that wasn't enough to irritate her (???) and that I should also put in extra shots of vanilla. Now, both soy and vanilla cost extra, and she refused to return the drink she didn't want, and gave it to her husband. So they had like four dollars worth of stuff that they didn't pay for. I didn't really care, because I totally just wanted them to get the hell out of there.

But then I finish the drink (the soy and vanilla one), and she demands that I put extra vanilla in her husband's drink (the one that I just let them have).

No. So I told them very politely that there was no way I'd be allowed to do that and perhaps they should just go...*ahem*. Grrr. People bug me.

And then today I had one customer the first two hours. And made .81 in tips. Which I left there because I really, really wanted to leave. *sigh*

But the opportunity to see my bosses fighting over who was hotter- Daniel Craig or Pierce Brosnan and listing the hottest Bonds was totally worth it. Not terribly intellectually stimulating, but still. :D

I'm going to fail French. *tear*

Pre-Pre-Sale Update

GAH! WHY ARE THEY TRYING TO KILL ME!?!?!?!?! First they keep the pre-sale date from us until Monday freakin' night, then they don't give us the password until last night, and now I have to wait seventy-two minutes to buy tickets to Chicago with every other Grobie between here and Vegas. I already have an ulcer. But it's going to rupture. *headdesk*

Yes, children, you will probably notice that it is 8:48 am, and I am writing instead of in my math review for an exam what? this is important too class. That is because today is a high holy day, and being home to buy tickets was clearly more important than learning about how we use Kruskall's Method to find a minimal spanning tree to solve a problem that I'm fairly certain I will never ever need to solve after Friday.

Why can't your mother, who is sitting home online anyway, buy them for you, thus allowing you to continue in your pursuit of higher education? The reasons for that are quite clear as well, 1.)higher education sucks, and 2.) She's not as crazy/devoted as I am.

Did you really think I'd wait until I got home at quarter to two to ask, "Mother dear? Are we going to see Josh this February? Or did the other blood-thirtys horny menopausal rhymes-with-witches beat us out?"

No.

Obviously not.

OMG, they were playing Solo Por Ti at work last night upstairs and not downstairs. Boo.

However, probably not helping my nerves too much by sitting here with eight cups of coffee while sucking down Imladris's allergy prescription. It's frozen outside. How do I still have allergies??? How is that even possible!?!?!?! Grrr.

But, because I'm a teensy bit wired and even a teensy bit more crazy this morning (and how is that different from other mornings? HA! Wow. Seriously need to calm down.) y'all are getting an update.

First, I still have a job. Whee!!!

Second, I finished Anderson Cooper's book, and have decided that he *would* make a perfect sexless husband for Colleen, because of all the major emotional damage and what-not. Plus, he runs into war zones all the time to "try to feel", so he'll probably bite it kinda soon and Colleen will have the inestimable pleasure of wearing one of those really expensive black lace veil thingys to her husband's funeral at some massive New York cathedral while the press gathers round. Oh the fun she will have. This, incidently, is what I hope to accomplish by marrying an almost-corpse.

Incidentally squared, Perfume the book? Omigosh so good!!! Expecting the movie to be even better.

Okay. Kinda going too crazy to sit and blog. Must go find something to clean.

But three final things. *Number one is not appropriate for The Boy*

1.) We got to listen to a song in French yesterday about leaving condoms on the nightstand. And Frenchie totally didn't know that that was what that word meant, and after she looked it up on the internet she refused to believe that was the translation. The alternative? A part of an automobile. Uh-huh. I'm sure this guy left parts of his car on his nightstand. Hehe.

2.) People need to seriously stop taking money out of my tip jar, dammit!!! I don't care if you are three cents short, I worked hard and smiled really widely for those three cents and they are mine, dammit!!! *ahem*

3.) People named George Clooney Sexiest Man Alive. Eh. It's been done.

I wanna color with Josh. *pouts*

Fear not, children, for I am back.

I know you're all thrilled. But lately, if you are not a.) a forensics show with an obscenely hot cast, b.) a pillow, or c.) an advance copy of Awake that I paid thirty six dollars for in order to arrive on time and is still not here yes it is Wednesday thank you for asking, I don't care about you . Really. I'm at the end of my rope. Five weeks exactly. I've already picked out two geography days that I'm clearly not going to be attending (POTC 2 release date and day before Thanksgiving. Who the hell goes to class on the day before Thanksgiving???), and that's making me happy.

(Not as much as the Happy Feet trailer, which I love like whoa and watch occasionally just to perk up.)

So yeah. That's why you haven't had an entry. You all can take that up with your respective therapists at another time.

Meanwhile, I've got serious obsessing to do. I was at Target at eight o'clock yesterday morning because I was convinced that my real copy would not arrive (it hasn't), and I clearly could not lag behind the rest of the world (I couldn't) and needed to secure a copy immediately (I did).

Oh, it's good. I love them all, especially February Song, In Her Eyes, and Now or Never. Lots of English on this one, too, which is disconcerting at first because I'm used to not understanding most of his songs. I think there are three or four Italian songs and then one Spanish one, but the rest are in English. I'm not wasting any time with You Are Loved or Solo Por Ti, because I've been listening to them for a month already and clearly just need to obsess over the new ones.

No, I don't have a problem, thank you very much. *sniff*

He's not doing as much press as I would like, though. I mean, I'd like him to get a talk show just so I could watch him every day, but still. He was on GMA this morning, with his parents (how cute is that???) and he's on Regis and Kelly on Friday. I'd stay home but I have a psychology discussion that's worth points. Tyrants.

Ooh, mail just came. Must go check it.

~~Two Minutes Later~~

GAH!!!!!!! IT CAME!!!!!! *is dead from the joyous happiness* Totally worth spending fifty dollars for an extra song. Pssh.

In other news, I voted for the first time yesterday!!! Except the primary. Doesn't count. And almost everyone I voted for...lost. Oh well. We all knew who was going to be governor. Frankly, I was amazed about the attorney general. Happy, because he was my one winner, but still. And the marriage amendment passed.

Also, our "war on terror" referendum SUCKED. It was practically, "Do you want terrorists to win?" Sheesh. I wanted something concise, like if we should pull the troops out of Iraq. Grandpa got that one, and it send him into such a commitment phobic tizzy that he had to leave it blank. This is the man who has been saying things like, "We'll find those pictures when things settle down," since the Reagan administration. The freaking Soviet Block has settled down since then. I'm pretty sure our family never had to rebuild several nations (not very well *cough*Ukraine*cough*).

And then this morning, Rumsfeld "quit". Hmmm. I'm not saying it has anything to do with the fact that we totally got our asses whupped and now there's a practically literal mob at the White House and Bush is going "Oh, *fine*. Maybe we'll just *talk* about the Iraq thing now, okay?", but I totally am.

Meanwhile over at people.com, it's all Britney all the time. People, please. A little dignity? Says the girl with two different copies of Awake that she won't let out of her sight. *ahem*

We leave you today with a penguin. Have a nice evening. (CSI:NY Spoiler Alert-click and drag: Mac's stepson stalks Stella. Que est-ce???)

A break from your regularly scheduled crazy for a Josh-induced possible schizophrenic break.

GAH!!!! JOSH'S NEW CD IS UP ON FOJG.COM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAPS LOCK CANNOT POSSIBLY EXPRESS MY FANGIRLY JOY!!! I had to delete something called a cookie, which probably didn't help the tenuous relationship we have with electronics in our house, but still. I would have wiped out the harddrive if it let me listen to this six days before the street date. I dont' care. Unless the UPS guy delivers mine early, I will be at Target with bells on at eight o'clock a.m. on Tuesday. I'm thinking about staying home. Seriously. What the hell has geography ever done for me? And French? Please, I changed my major to get away from it. Yep. Will have to do that. Because having to fulfill my civic duty will take up way too much time from the constant Josh-worshipping.

Shit. Real worshipping will take valuable time away from the Josh-worshipping tonight. I have to go to Mass in an hour and twenty minutes, and that's clearly not enough time to have February Song memorized. When they say mortal, exactly how mortal are we talking? No. Bad girl. *sigh* If I plan on c0nverting Josh, I shall have to set a good example for him.

Yes, I'm completely in touch with reality. Why? What have you heard?

*ahem* In order to keep from ending up a puddle of hormones on the floor muttering in broken Italian, we shall move on to other topics, alright???

So, Mousie: 1, Morena and Co.:0

But just you wait, dear mousie. Little do you know, but the next time you try to eat all the food off the little traps you will start to bleed internally, courtesy of Imladris' godfather and his House of Rodent Pain. Mwhahahaha.

Actually, that's kind of sad.

Eh, I'm over it. I'm really sick of having a moustrap in my bedroom. It freaks me out. (On the other hand, things are remarkably cleaner, since I no longer leave piles of moist towels just lying around.


(OMG, he's singing a song called Lullaby and just said, "Hush now baby". He wrote this in Africa while holidng little AIDS babies. I'm ovulating RIGHT NOW- something his last girlfriend was probably biologically incapable of doing. What? I get bitter when I get hormonal. *sniff*)

Watching Under the Tuscan Sun. Okay. I swear to God I've read this book. I remember checking it out from the library, and various people remember seeing me reading it. But the story is completely unfamiliar.

This is very perplexing, as I usually remember everything I've read. In fact, I often remember things that I haven't read if I know the story. Like I've convinced myself I've read The Odyssey. It totally haven't. I barely got through the Iliad, and that was only because of Troy.

So I can invent Homer, but Frances Mayes eludes me? That's disturbing, actually.

Prince Albert calls to set up a weekly lunch. It was a toss between this and "Prince Albert says "Yeeahh, boy!!!"

Also just started Flags of our Fathers, the movie version of which is still only playing in areas of town where they demand the ultimate sacrifice upon walking to your car. *sigh* It's probably one of the best books I've ever read. I was holding back tears on the bus this morning by page 18.

Well, I have remarkably little else to say today. Everybody hurry home from Mass and watch Lost. I know, I know, that's not a good priority. But it has Wicked Hot Desmond!!!!