Totally unrelated and separated by an icon.

Lost's 4th season is premiering in like half an hour, and ABC is running a little wrap up for those of us who stopped watching because it went up against CSI:NY may be a little lost.

And---meh.

Remember when Lost was amazing and cool? Like that first year, when the whole big thing was Hatch and the polar bear? Do you remember the polar bear!?!?! Dude. The polar bear was where it was AT.

The semester it premiered, I had a biology lab at 7:30 on Thursday mornings. And for the entire semester, my professor, the other girl whose name I'm forgetting, and I dissected (ha! no pun intended!) the previous night's episode. It was fun. Way more fun than whatever it is we were supposed to be studying. In fact, I remember the first polar bear episode, and Dr. Saleska said his wife thought he was crazy when he told her that OMG THERE TOTALLY WAS A POLAR BEAR!!!

I want to it be like that again, not this crazy three-societies-fertility-specialist-omgwtf-Kate-and-Jack-in-the-future?!?!?!?

Okay. The Kate and Jack in the future thing was pretty cool.

I was sitting in environmental science today and eavesdropping on the two girls behind me (let's face it, there was very little else to do). One was finishing her philosophy degree and was talking about a professor (who taught my logic class last year).

Not-Philosophy Girl: Wait, who is Tierney?

Philosophy Girl: He's the Australian. Like straight-up.

Me: How can you be "straight-up Australian"?

Not-Philosophy Girl: Oooh. Is he hot?

Me: *snickers* Um. No. I think Mary and I named him Ron Weasley's Rat.

Philosophy Girl: Um. No...

Me: HAHAHA.

Philosophy Girl: ...but he's probably a dreamboat to you. You like any authority figure with an accent.

Not-Philosophy Girl: True. Very true.

I really felt like turning around and offering my services as bff and late-night-binge hair-holder because OMG WE HAVE SO MUCH IN COMMON DO YOU HAVE FACEBOOK???!!!

Well, that's about as much about me that you need to know. At least for tonight.

No, wait! That's Kandinsky!!!

It's my daddy's birthday. Happy birthday Daddy!!!

Also, in 1649, Charles I was executed in London for pissing off Parliament and generally being an asshat.

Just, you know, in case you were wondering.

So now I have a lovely celebratory manhattan (please don't worry about my alcoholism, it's actually 9:16, not 3:30 or whatever the timestamp says), and I don't have a lot to say about anything. Mostly because I stayed home today and watched Monty Python (16 ton megaset for Daddy's birthday- whee!!!) and have nothing to comment on school-wise.

Which says something about the content of my life, actually.

Just two things---

1.) Maria's pizza? Is really good. I used to absolutely hate it. Now I want to move to the south side just to get closer.

2.) Imladris has been accepted, with honors and promise of a scholarship (they didn't specify how significant of a scholarship), to one of the last colleges she applied to!!! So mad snaps for her.

Not to rain on her little parade or anything, but this would be the same academic world that Grandpa proverbially set on fire in 1939, so really, she's kind of just begging for failure because anything she may accomplish? Probably won't end with an atomic bomb.

I'm going to go drink. Ciao.

Tomorrow will be a cold day. Authorized by me.

And it is law, and that's how it is.


Because every other time there is inclement weather I have a final or a paper or a baby due or something (kidding, but I have no doubt that there is going to be the largest snowstorm on record the day I go into labor), and tomorrow I only have two lectures and don't want to walk to the architecture building in a -35 degree wind chill so DAMMIT I AM STAYING HOME.



It's just the history of sex lecture anyway. I'm pretty sure I can figure that out on my own. Without the help of the transparencies the professor promised to bring in.

Witness a New Level of Dorkdom

I'm watching, actually watching, the State of the Union.

And I squeed when the Supreme Court justices walked in. They're wearing their cool robes. Dude. I'd wear that thing to the grocery.

(If you've been reading for any amount of time, you'll know that this is quite an honor. I generally don't squee unless I'm drunk or want to have the sque-ee's babies. Neither applies here, which is a sign of emotional growth, I think.)

Now the congress people are bobbing up and down depending on the party line.

My favorite part is when some well-meaning junior representative starts to clap and no one else does. HAHAHAHAHA.

*ahem*

Dude. Hillary just gave somebody the death glare. And Barack and Ted Kennedy? Are sitting right next to each other like big dumb girls. I wonder if they have the same study hall, too.

Also? Pelosi's frantic and freakish blinking? Is making me dizzy. And Dick Cheney's freakish stare is making me feel stalked.


Only other things going on are of the technological and scholarly variety.

The printer decided that it didnt like it's new ink, and it was going to stop working. So new printer and much gnashing of teeth, etc. later, I finally have my notes printed off.

I also know entirely too much about the conception of my professor's daughter. Frankly, any information I have on the subject is too much, but the position used to achieve said daugher? WAY TOO FAR.

*shivers*

I'm going to go have a little government party in my head, mmmkay?

Again with the creepy saint-love.

I finally finished watching season 1 of The Tudors on DVD this afternoon. I'd seen most of the episodes online last year, but gave up around 7, because I just couldn't find a decent website to host the video, and frankly watching an hour long show every week on a computer screen? Notsomuch with the attention span of the flea.

First, I'd like to say that my inner History Major was jumping up and down and screaming and pouting and threatening to quit and all sorts of things, but she was quickly shup up by my inner Smut Whore and then beaten to a pulp by my inner Jeremy Northam Stalker.

But I thought I'd give her a say anyways. So, if you do not wish to be enlighened and educated, you may skip the next part.

First, WOLSEY ABSOLUTELY DID NOT, IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM, COMMIT SUICIDE. Not even in the weasly little "the world will never know" way that they tried to pass it off as.

Also, the stupid "Princess Margaret" thing. Henry VIII had two sisters, Mary and Margaret. They only gave him one in here- Margaret. But lest that make way too much sense, they gave her Mary's life story, although kind of screwed around a little bit (it was France, not Portugal, she didn't kill him, she was happily married to Brandon for years and had three kids, etc.)

And Bessie Blount's son dying in infancy? For no reason other than the idiot 2007 audience will go, "Oh, but he has a son anyways! Why are they fighting!?!"

These all bothered me immensely. Because there was simply no reason for it. They could have easily done the Wolsey thing correctly- he even died in real life at the exact same time as he offed himself in the show, and it would have been just as tragic. Margaret could have become Mary and the actual Margaret could have been mentioned, because she did, you know, give birth to the next dynasty. And Henry Fitzroy? Was a stupid minor plotpoint that could have been either ignored, or handled the correct way.

But they didn't, and frankly it pissed me off.

That being said, OMG BEST SHOW EVER SO MUCH BETTER ON DVD. *SQUEE*

Seriously. I loved the fact that you slowly saw Henry VIII going mad.

I love the clothes.

I love how hot Thomas More is. In that holier-than-thou, self-righteous, Oh-he'd-educate-our-daughters-and-take-our-babies-to-Mass!!! way. At least until he started burning heretics. (BTW, was I the only one who laughed out loud when he replied to an inquiry about how many Lutherans he'd burned with, "Only six. All heretics, necessary, and...well done."

HEY. He wasn't a saint yet. It doesn't become creepy and unholy and damning until 1935.

Also? The Invasion on Tuesday. I may die of happiness.

I should not be so amused by pictures of cats.

moar funny pictures

But, oh, Lord, I am.

ETA: The word that is cut off at the end is "doom".

Overheard at work last night:

Girl: Well, I like girls and boys, but I'm not, like, a lesbian. Or bisexual. It's not like I do drugs and like girls.

Charming Boy: Haha, yeah, when you do drugs you're really bisexual!

Girl: Not, like, all the time.

~~~

Girl #1: Why should the money go to a CEO and not the workers?

Girl #2: Because the CEO worked for the it, and built the company!

Girl #1: So you believe in social darwinism?

Girl #2: I...no...I guess...but not really.

I seriously fear for our country.

I am paying $8,000 a year to hone my Guitar Hero strategy.

Today in American Popular Music (which is less popular music and more crazy boring genre music) we learned about 32 and 12 bar patterns, which are ways a song can progress. So first we listened to a pop song for awhile and then we listened to some boring jazz recording over and over again it was clear that we really needed to know the 12-bar pattern for the class because omg, how could anyone possible like the treacly popular crap shoved down our throats by the man while there is REAL music to be had!?!?!? (Slightly paraphrased, but that was his gist.)

And I couldn't help but think that, well, yeah, I probably need to be able to recognize the 12 bar thingy for the midterm, but learning to anticipate the 32 bar one could really help me with Guitar Hero!!!

My parents are so proud.

Within the first ten minutes of the ridiculously entitled Women and Gender in Europe After 1750...

...the professor announced she was going through a divorce, was bitter about it, said that there were going to be days that she was not able to restrain from "manbashing", called the lesbian a man at least four times, told us that her daughter was making $140,000 a year, misquoted Humanae Vitae, and gave us the recipe for haggis.

I could barely see through all the estrogen, body spray, and bitterness, but at least it wasn't boring.

Five Left.

Classes started again this morning.

I left the house at 6:15 a.m. Which is a time that no one should be driving, or indeed doing anything other than hitting the snooze button or perhaps even showering MAYBE if you have something really important like the Academy Awards nominations to get up for.

I spent twenty minutes trying to not throw heavy things at the back of the old auditing guy WHO WOULDN'T SHUT THE HELL UP, and, if his face and clenched jaw was any indication, the professor was fighting the same urge.

This is so mean. But I really hope the class is too full for him to get in.

Then I spent two hours sitting in the Grind drinking a latte and wondering what kind of 15-year-old comes up with Gothic smut, which we'll get to in a moment?

Then I listened to Summertime (the "and the living is easy" suckage) THREE TIMES, first by Porgy and Bess, then by Miles Davis, and then by Janis Joplin while an aging hippie with a crazy-ass beard talked about tone color and the guy in front of me unabashedly listened t his iPod the ENTIRE lecture.

Then I went to Earth Wind and Fire, where I found out that a.) it is possible to receive a Ph.D. from Princeton without actually knowing how to speak English clearly, b.) obviously the professor does not know that the first day is totally reserved for going over the syllabus and getting together with friends, idiot, and c.) people have got to stop having so much sex, because damn, the Earth cannot sustain them.

Then I came home and rummaged through old handbags looking for a change purse but found a dime and a half-punched Cold Stone Creamery card. Sweet.

And my daddy was kind enough to drive me, so that I did not end up shored up in a snowdrift. Which was very nice of him.


So, Academy Award noms!!! Johnny got one!!! I'm so excited!!! My wonderful mommy called me before class to let me know!!! That was so sweet!!!

And so help me God if Johnny is nominated and there's no awards show because neither the writers or the producers will put on their big girl panties and DEAL WITH IT then that old auditing guy earlier? Had it easy.

*steam*

While I was sitting in the Grind for hours and hours and hours this morning, I read The Monk, because it was in Northanger Abbey the other night, and my dad gave me his copy like five years ago to read and I haven't yet, and oh my goodness the scandal!!!

Then I found out it was written when the author was fifteen. FIFTEEN. My little brother's age. I don't really remember fifteen, it was a busy year what with the leaving high school and starting college and OMG PIRATES and the Crazy living with us and occasionally breaking down about the state of her union.

But I'm pretty sure I never thought, damn, I really need to write a tome about sex with a priest in which *spoilers* the woman is revealed to be the devil at the end, which is just not fair. (Not to advocate any vow breakage or anything, but her bosom wasn't the only one heaving, is all I'm saying.)

That was one fifteen-year-old with a hell of an imagination.

And also? I'm pretty sure they couldn't fit the word "bosom" in there once more. They'd reach their bosom limit. He may have had an imagination, but notsomuch with the vocabulary.


Lolcats tonight---

Just go get mom, okay.

Van Gogh cat...

I am the worst art student ever.

It's been one of the dryer months on record.

I have driven nowhere but GHS, Best Buy for DVD runs, and occasionally-very occasionally- work for five weeks.

And now, when I have to be somewhere at eight tomorrow morning it drops eight inches???

Where is the justice?

Also, I just read the syllabus for my online Baroque art history class, and wow, I am so confused. I get that there are weekly quizzes. But beyond that? I guess there are weekly content PowerPoint lectures with and without audio, but then there are other content PowerPoint lectures that aren't, and then exams for which you cannot be late omg, but first of all, how can you do an identification exam online? Won't everybody be sitting with their flashcards on their laps??? And how can we be late if it's online? Because it can't be at a specific time or, statistically, 25% of the people will be in another class. And the discussion group postings? Where if your name starts with a Z and it's the first Monday after the first Tuesday you have to post? Don't get me started.

I'm really hoping it gets clearer once the D2L site is up tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile, the picture at the top of the syllabus? Is de la Tour's Penitent Magdalene, which I love like whoa because (and hold onto your hats, because I only get artsy once in a...aw, hell, NEVER), but it's one of those that I really connected to. It's so pretty and so dark and I just absolutely love it.

And also? Dude, it was in The Little Mermaid. I kind of want to buy a poster of it, JUST BECAUSE.

Well, children, it appears that I shall have to brave wind and driving snow at like six o'clock tomorrow morning, so I'm going to sign off now. Good night!!!

The next person who mentions the weather *or* the Packers is going to get snow shoved up their ass.

Seriously. It's Wisconsin. Grow a pair and shut up.

Also? My interest in purported game tonight is only that I heard there was going to be snackage? And perhaps some unconfirmed taco dip?

Today I feel like nesting or decluttering or taking yoga or something.

I know, right? Totally unlike me. So instead I drank a lot of water and cleaned my room and took a lot of Aleve, which is actually so unhealthy that it probably counteracted the whole water thing, but I DON'T CARE. It felt like there was a withdrawing meth addict inside my uterus with a flaming melon baller and a grudge and dammit, fine, I'LL TAKE THE DAMN HEART FAILURE.



I think the nesting/decluttering/yoga urges are a desperate subconscious attempt at sublimating my lack of control over EVERYTHING else this semester (yes, I have taken a lot of psych classes. Shut up.)

And, well, the Family Crazy? Manifests itself in Crazy Control Freakage in me.

Here, tastefully bullet-pointed, are some issues/questions that are BUGGING THE HELL OUT OF ME right now.

• one class doesn’t have a book listed yet, and the little "History 236" thingy was trampled to the ground when I went to the bookstore.
  
• one has several books listed as "omg required" depending on what bookstore you go to
  
• one syllabus has the wrong date, time, and section listed
  
• will they take harmonica du mort back?
  
• one class had three of the four books available, but no fourth. Gah.
  
• how, exactly, shall I kill myself?

Ugh. Why can't college be like kindergarten when they give your parents a sheet detailing exactly what you need to bring, like-inexplicably-three moss green crayons, two rolls of paper towels, and three boxes of Kleenex?

(BTW, was that just a racket of my teachers' to avoid running to Target? Or were they used for something?)

Watched the Boy serve Mass this morning, and during the homily several points arose that I feel I need to comment on.

And I swear I'm not going to correct the grammar. Which would be appropriate, but whatever.

Un, the priest had a weird Caesar haircut thing going on, and it was distracting me.

Deux, God, my flute makes me feel like a loser. It's just like a little box devoted to my untalentedness and unwillingness to do ANYTHING other than watch Rock of Love II on VH1. Oh, wait. I'll watch Scott Baio is 46...and Pregnant! too. God I suck.

Trois, they want to redo the Baptismal font and knock down walls and take over the bride's room and all sorts of stuff. And the priest was all, "OMG SO FANTASTIC STAINED GLASS!!!".

Well, yeah, that's all fine and good for you, Mr. Celibate Who's Jumping Ship Before Anything Gets Decided. I have to GET MARRIED here!!! And where the hell am I going to get dressed?!?!?!


Bottle Shock trailer. Please. Alan with a '70s porn mustache? Worth the download.

DUUUUUDE. Ralph Fiennes? Dominic Cooper? Keira Knightly? DOMINIC COOPER!?!?!? I think I just wet myself with excitement.

Hmmm. Colleen's watching a documentary on the Travel Channel about funerals and naked people ("I'm kind of glad that in our culture it's an hour and you're out. Why can they show boobs on this channel, but not on regular cable?" She's so smart.). It is perplexing.

*sigh*

No one wants to watch The Supreme Court with me.

Not even Part 4: The Rehnquist Revolution, in which the current Chief Justice reflects on the previous Chief Justice.

Pssh.

Plebeians.

Freak.

moar funny pictures

Hahaha.

Going to bed now.

Itemized Crap

Tonight? I just have random points I want to talk about, with absolutely no connection or transition whatsoever. In no order of importance.

1.) Why are none of the Presidential candidates talking about the death penalty? Because despite the fact that we're all "developed" and everything, we still execute more people than Saudi Arabia. And anytime you're ahead of SAUDI ARABIA in human rights violations??? I think you need to talk about it.

2.) Damn, I regret hatin' on my own party and all, but Huckabee's a crazy, isn't he? I am all in favor of overturning Roe v. Wade, but DAMN. It's a good thing that he won't win just because there will never, EVER be a President Huckabee.

3.) Speaking of Roe v. Wade, God, it sucks. (Please pretend it's 1973 and my opinions have some relevance and I wasn't born fourteen years later.) Not just morally, because I'm not quite sure when it became okay for the states to deny citizens a right to life, but legally it SUCKS. Seriously? Privacy? There is no privacy! It was an invented right from another sucky case. It's a bad ruling couched in a bad ruling. Argh!!!



4.) I had a nightmare last night. I was ready to start Spring classes, and realized within the last two days that physiological psych was actually a year-long class, and I had signed up for it. So not only did I have to go through more of the Dr. Moyer Brand of Sadomasochistic Self-Congratulatory Crazy, but that rendered my other science course worthless and I had to switch it for something I didn't really want and it was SO STRESSFUL. And then I woke up sweating.

Yes. I may be slightly crazy.

5.) I thought the harmonica was bad? Ha. I didn't know anything. I took a look at my receipt this afternoon (which I never do, because you need the books so why prolong the pain?), but I was trying to balance my checkbook. (It wasn't working, btw.) And do you know how much the book that went along with the harmonica was?

First, let me specify. It's not a book. It's a stack of probably about 60 pages in a cellophane wrapper, with three hole punches. Written by the "professors". I even have to provide the freaking binder.

Back to our story. How much?

SIXTY DOLLARS.

And because it's not a book that I can't wrap back up? I CAN'T SELL IT BACK.

God. This freaking arts credit has cost me $80 already, and I can't recoup any of it. Well, I told my dad I'd sell him the harmonica, and even throw in lessons if he pays me full price.

What can I say? I'm a giver.

6.) Slightly good school news? No art history book. All on e-reserve. Which means that I a.) don't have to shell out $100 for a book that I won't use, and b.) print stuff off and be able to carry it around much easier than a textbook, which I never use because oh, so, big, and, heavy. And also? Pointless.



7.) I have to drive to the Panther Bookstore tomorrow (aka, the Downer Bookstore, completely different from the UWM Bookstore, or the Union Bookstore and SERIOUSLY WHY DON'T YOU JUST HAVE ONE DAMMIT I AM TIRED!!!), because my brilliant professor for Asian American Crap (yes, that's the title of the class) finally ordered the books. And I don't want to. *sigh*

8.) Duuude. I was all happy curled on the couch watching Miss America on Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader? (my favorite show ever-shhh! Don't tell anybody!), because, um, yeah, *squee*, when I flip over to Snapped during commercial breaks. And it's not just any Snapped, it's a baby-snatching Snapped.

From the womb, y'all. Hardcore.

And I just didn't know what to do.

9.) Can we talk about Miss America for a minute. She's 20. MY AGE. And I'm sitting at home watching her on TV!?!?!?! Oh. My. Lord. I. Need. A. Big. Drink.

10.) Haha. I'm watching Mean Girls on tv, but it's censored. So the part where the guy makes fun of Cady by asking her if she wants her buns buttered was taken out. And changed to muffins. So now he asks her if she wants somebody to butter her muffin.

Which is actually dirtier, n'est pas?



11.) Hahaha. This should be in the NY Times. More people would be interested in politics. Except I'm confused by the URL title, because Congress doesn't have anything to with the courts, but whatever. It's still funny.

12.) I don't suppose they'd move him to Chicago? Because frankly? The bus fare is about all I've got now.

13.) Oh, well. It was a very nice 17 years, wasn't it. I know I enjoyed it. Those first four Communist years of my life? Not so much fun.

14.) Oh, I'm very sad for her. I cannot imagine losing a child, and while the circumstances are not ideal, I think that would almost make it worse. To be 22 and unmarried and pregnant you would have to really come to terms with the pregnancy, not just be "Oh, we're having a baby!!!" happy, and then to have it gone? Ugh. And I believe we established in an earlier post I don't want to bother linking to that she's good people.

I now make major decisions based on paperback novels.

It’s exam time for Imladris and the Boy, and they’re both doing perfectly and getting A’s and blah blah blah. One of them pulled a FREAKING 97% out of his/her ass on an astronomy exam, quite a daring accomplishment when one considers that he/she may have been questionable on whether the sun was a star or not a scarce 48 hours prior to the exam. The other was pulled aside by a teacher this morning and told that his/her research paper was THE BEST EVER OMG I’M CALLING MENSA!!!

I don’t get that anymore.

I used to- at Concordia I got that all the time. In my constitutional law class our major project (other than showing up three times a week at eight o’clock in the morning excited to discuss the commerce clause, which even I, a Supreme Court Whore, find a trifle dry at times *heh*) was this huge long-ass (I’m talking 15-20 pages, which is huge and long-ass when you’re a sixteen-year-old pretending you know how to take 300-level courses) research paper about some topic. Mine was a scholarly biography of three Chief Justices, Marshall, Rehnquist (the current one at the time), and one other one who was terribly dull Holmes maybe? NO! It was Taney. I only remember because I had written ten pages before I realized you pronounced it “Tawney” and not “Tainey”. Hah. I felt stupid.

Okay. Not the point.

Anyway, I wrote the paper, didn’t feel too great about it, because again, 16 and stupid. Le anyhoodles, I got to class one morning and Dr. Jarratt’s there (well, duh, he caught the class), and starts talking about how awesome all of our papers were (um, yeah, sure), but there were three that were outstanding.

The first one he mentions was this one guy’s, John. So I’m fiddling with my pen and thinking, “Well, yeah, that makes sense, he’s freaking brilliant. And really hot, too. Too bad he’s married. Maybe he’s not married. He’s awfully young. Maybe he wears that band on his left finger as like a chastity ring or something. Yeah. That’s it. We’re meant to be to together…

“And Kathleen’s, which read like a novel and was very well researched.”

I almost fell off my chair. Hot John and I were in the same academic league??? Along with getting a B+ in chemistry my first semester and my A in physiological psych last semester, that was one of the proudest moments of my academic life. A judge thought I had one of the best paper’s he’d ever read.

Yeah.
It doesn’t happen anymore. At UWM, the best I’ve gotten was an exclamation point once on a paper because I said something the TA thought was funny.


Also up today: my future!!!

Ha.

I kid.

But I’ve been thinking very seriously about law school, mostly because I’m on break and, well, don’t have a lot else to do. But anyways, as much as I love law and think it would be fun and REALLY want to call myself an attorney (perhaps only so I could bust into crime scenes and be all, “No questions. She’s represented by counsel,” like on Boston Legal), I don’t think this is viable career option.

Even if I took a sugar-coated, David E. Kelly vision of the practice of law, I still don’t want to do it. It looks boring. And hard. And, again, BORING. My mother, she of the J.D. and years of soul-sucking experience, said she knows I wouldn’t do well at a large, well-paying firm, so I would most likely be stuck at some boring one person firm where I don’t get paid a whole lot.

Um. Yeah. There is indeed a price on my suffering through three years of Socratic torture, but you can be damn sure it’s more than one guy can afford.

Also? I’ve been reading Above the Law, a legal blog. But this isn’t about the blog, which is lovely and funny except they like Hillary and BOOO!!! but I digress, this is about the comments. Comments, made by asshole lawyers. Seriously. They’re all obnoxious, and all annoying as shit, and I kind of don’t ever want to talk to people like that much less WORK FOR THEM.

And then, I read this book, Testing Kate, by Whitney Gaskell.

And I know, I know. You should never make major career decisions based on chick lit. I understand this. I’m not a drooling fool.

But the Kate of Testing Kate? Was a history major who went into law because she thought it would be fun before her friend tried to commit suicide because it was so stressful and a bunch of actual lawyers told her to get out while she still could so she ended up working for a historian and getting her masters in history.

I felt a little bit like God was going, “Okay, dumbass. Maybe I have to put it in FREAKING PINK WRITING FOR YOU.”

*sigh*

Also- Romney won in Michigan. And I’m not pleased. First of all, I like McCain. Secondly, I don’t think that ANY Republican has a huge change of winning this time. Thirdly, I think that they ONLY one who has ANY chance is McCain, mostly because people are scared of him I think.

The only people who are still going to reliably vote for a Republican are the religious right, and I’m pretty sure they’re not down with Mormonism.
This has been entirely too long, and damn it, I've driven to Grafton High like six times today and I'm TIRED, so just two links tonight.

Okay, so I know he’s all aesthetically pleasing and everything, but when you’re a little girl and dreaming about having a baby, the father doesn’t usually use terms like “stoked” and “wowed” and “grown in her womb” and forgo deodorant, does he? Or is that just me? I’d like someone who isn’t high on something. And, you know, doesn’t smell.

Seriously. Can no one help her?

Boston Legal *and* American Idol???

Only best night of TV ever.

Also? John Laroquette was on The View this morning and was talking about his wife of 34 years and their kids and how they drove across the country in a motor home to visit his son at college and it was so cute and if my parents bite it or are abducted by aliens, I'd like to join the Laroquette family, would that be okay???

I'm very tired and just discovered that I have to squire the Boy to school at some ungodly hour that begins with an 8 or something, so I'm going to bed.

And tomorrow we shall discuss all sorts of important things like Romney won wtf? and how a novel and a blog made me possibly abandon law school. So, you know, stay tuned for that.

But first,


moar funny pictures

Hahahaha.

Educational Bitches

Bitch #1: As though the thought of paying $500 for textbooks that will be worthless in approximately 15 weeks (on top of the four thousand I just paid for the privilege of using the textbooks) was not gut-wrenching enough, I had to buy a harmonica today. For my American music history class.

A harmonica.

For $26.70.

And then I opened it and...FINGERPRINTS.

So instead of Starbucks for a month, about three books, or hell, just being able to go to Target, I get a USED FINGERPRINTY HARMONICA WITH SOMEONE ELSE’S SPIT.

HARMONICA!!!!!

I am giving my blood, sweat, tears, and EIGHT THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR A HARMONICA.

I am NOT pleased.

Bitch #2: The teachers at my local high school are morons.

First, the “many and varied” thing, but I’m over that.

Second, I was helping The Boy study last night and we were going over his “Elected Officials Quiz”, and one of the matching thingies was “Chief Justice”.

Um. Yeah.

When did we start voting for that?

Also? Did I vote for Grothman? Srsly??? Damn, I should pay more attention next time.

Maybe I’m the moron.

Third, my sister’s brilliant astronomy teacher told them about the Gemini space missions.

And, apparently, they did untethered space walks, and one guy floated so far away that he had to swim back and his mask got all sweaty and he was almost out of oxygen.

Now, I dropped astronomy, and God knows science is not my strength, but I would really, really like to know what, exactly, this astronaut was “swimming” through. Because I’m pretty sure that space? Is just that.

That’s all today, because I’m a little bit exhausted from errands (doctor, UWM for books, UPass, and Gold Card), work, Target, Walgreens, the library, and CostCutters- don’t ask, it supplements my obscenely expensive haircut) and then cleaning and laundry because people are coming over.

At least I didn't have to make brownies.



Wow. People are coming over really soon. I’m gonna go. :)

JANE AUSTEN OMG!!!

PBS is doing the complete Jane Austen, and they just finished the first one, Persuasion. Which, I must admit, is not my favorite. I read it during the night like five years ago when I couldn't sleep and it just didn't do it for me.

But, oh, my, Lord, do I love it now.

Colleen: I'm so excited. I just peed myself.

Dad: WHAT!?!?!?!?

Next week: Northanger Abbey. *squee*

Cleaned my shower today. It was getting scary. I've kind of been avoiding cleaning the drain because just the thought of pulling gunky hair out of it makes me want to retch, and so the water has kind of been collecting and sitting in the bottom of the shower for the ten minutes or so it takes to drain.

I know, pretty, right?

But thanks to Kaboom and my now sore back, it is very clean. Yay.

Still like my hair.

A lot of nothing.

Those Family Ties DVDs I got for Christmas aren't going to watch themselves, dammit.

Very tired. Not sure why. Slept until like ten thirty, too. Hmm. Perplexing.

Would you like me to start talking in actual sentences now? Okay

Managed to almost comletely avoid the Packer crap going on, in only by leaving the house, getting my hair done, and going to Mass.

Quite possibly the fastest Mass I've ever been to, and one of the most sparsely attended. It was me and my mom and a bunch of old women. Frankly, the priest was phoning it it.

But I did get my hair cut, and I think I'm pleased with the results.

Of course, I vacillated between feeling like I had a mullet, a poodle head, back to mullet, and then a lesbian-like shag (Mom: What do you mean shag? Me: How many ways can you take shag in reference to hair? Like the carpet!!!), because it's shorter and curlier towards the top (hence the mullet).

But I like it now.

However, due to certain *ahem* conditions at my house, my stylist was horrified at how dry my hair was and suggested that I get a humidifyer. *sigh*

Strike post. I've been silent for 10 weeks, and I know you're upset.

Intelligent Conversation.

Scene: In the car, talking about Lord of the Rings.

Imladris: No, Arwen like says "hi" to Frodo, and has a couple of lines in the appendage.

Boy: Wait. Do you mean the appendix?

Imladris: *pauses LONG pause* Yeah.

*laughter*

Boy: That's kind of what happened to me in government today, when I got the speaker of the house's name wrong.

Imladris: What did you call her?

Boy: Peloski.

Imladris: But that's not dirty!!!

Boy: WHAT???

Morena: Why does it have to be dirty???

The gay mafia- REALLY organized crime.

Two housekeeping notices:

1.) My computer is being a pissy little bitch and I'm mad at it. (This is where my dad will go, "You're so smart, why can't you use your extensive vocabulary instead of swearing?" And I will challenge him to come up with a less profane version of "pissy little bitch" that means exactly the same thing and he will FAIL because THERE ISN'T ONE AND SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO SAY BITCH, DAMMIT.)

2.) Wow, that was interesting last night, wasn't it? Sometimes my rapier wit and and incisive social commentary amazing even me. I'm posting earlier today. See? I do care about my readers.

So what else is going on? Not a lot, right? I start classes again in about a week and a half, and I am not pleased. Not that I'm not looking forward to them, because they're all kind of amazing, well, except for the music history where I got shoved into the blues focus group and if there's one kind of music I hate more than jazz it's blues and why can't they have a Josh Groban focus group because I would sign up for that dammit...okay, shutting up now.

I mean, I am looking forward to them, I just don't actually want to go them. Does that make sense?

Did feel accomplished and smart though, when I opened my e-mail this morning and read one from my pre-law advisor (No, I don't know that I am actually pre-law, but I get the e-mails for some reason.) about a contracts course offered this semester that is apparently an actual law school class with real law school books, just less intense and with less chance of suicide.

And the big question that they focus on is the anecdote about the drunk farmer selling the farm using a bar napkin and whether or not it's a legally binding contract.

And I already know that it is! Thanks to one of the Drs. Weber (they both had the same last name, but switched halfway through the year) and my business law class, I know about as much as a 1L about contracts!

Okay, maybe that's pushing it, but still.

Wait. I can't even remember what year I took that class. Junior? Senior? I don't think it was my last...but it must have been because junior year I did con law, and I know they didn't overlap. So yeah, senior year.

Oh, sorry. Just having an argument with myself there. Please feel free to skim.

So I think that the coming midterms have addled The Boy's brain. Because at 6 o'clock this morning I was awakened by this.

Morena: *is asleep*

Boy: Morena!

Morena: *is no longer asleep* *snarls*

Boy: Did you throw away a balled-up piece of paper yesterday?

Morena: Um. Yeah. Probably. That's pretty much all I do all day.

Boy: It was my science worksheet!

Morena: Your science worksheet was balled up and left on the table?

Boy: Yes! Why did you throw it away???

Morena: Um, I think we established why. In the future, DON'T BALL UP YOUR HOMEWORK!

Boy: It's not my fault! It was in my pocket!

Morena: It's not my fault either, it probably looked like trash.

Boy: Just don't throw anything out without checking with me first.

Morena: *has a lovely little fantasy in head about bringing rotten garbage to the CHILD for approval* Fine.

Boy: Okay. *huge, dramatic sigh* I just hope it isn't due today.

Morena: *snarls some more*

Just so you know, when I picked him up this afternoon he got in the car and went, "Oh, that science worksheet Kathleen threw out isn't due until tomorrow."

And I did not reach in the backseat and castrate him.

I think I deserve a round of applause for maturity.

Wednesday night, inexplicably tired.

I didn't do a whole lot today, just ran errands and set up my mom's mp3 player (which she now loves more than any of us), so I really shouldn't be tired. But I am, so I'm going to go to bed.

See you tomorrow.

I don't even know myself anymore.

The People's Choice Awards got so boring I watched a show on ABC about the New Hampshire primaries instead.

Dear God, what's become of us?

No, seriously. There's no audience, it's just Queen Latifah in a room and occasionally the winners will have taped acceptance speeches. So it's all the bad parts of award show (crappy categories, crappy speeches, etc.), and none of the good stuff (crappy dresses, crappy hair, etc.).

*sigh*

Equally *sigh* inducing? Clinton's leading by 3% in New Hampshire.

Oh, God, no.

Any faithful readers in New Hampshire? Anybody? Please go vote. I don't care who it's for as long as it's not for her.

As you may or may not know, I am not in any way, shape, or form a Democrat, but I am thisclose to campaigning for Obama, if only because I don't think he's smart enough to royally screw us up.

Clinton? Does NO ONE remember Whitewater??? People died, y'all. They just disappeared. And this crazy cries and you rush out to vote for her!?!?!

*headdesk*

Hey. I told y'all it wasn't going to be pretty.

Totally switching gears because I was beginning to doubt whether I'd be able to live with myself if I don't manage to get a shallow entertainment section in here somewhere, I watched The Illusionist today.

And by watched I mean skimmed until the make-out scene and then quickly lost interest while pondering how pretty my children's eyes would be if they had Edward Norton for a father.

*ahem*

Le anyhoodles, hot DAMN is that a good movie.

Imladris gets to watch American History X in Sexual Deviance 101 or whatever class she's taking, and I'm a little bit jealous. I got to watch a movie about crazy hippies and Pompeii this year.

In neither did Edward Norton show up.

Okay. He might have been in the hippie one. I wasn't paying that much attention. But I do know there was no beardage, because I'm pretty sure I would have noticed that.

Back to being intellectual, the Supreme Court heard a lethal injection case yesterday. And I nearly peed myself from excitement. Because while I may logically be against federal intrusion on state issues (like the death penalty), well, I do so love a good case that actually means something.

So I read the transcript (shut up, I do too have a life), and the two things I picked up were that it was obvious the justices kind of wanted a good, juicy death penalty case that would allow them to rule on the issue as an issue and were kind of pissed that the lawyers were only arguing the one-drug vs. three-drug protocols, and that wow, they also must watch a lot of CSI because there were a lot of "So that would cause excruciating pain?" questions.

That would be me. I'd be like, "Okay, Mr. Whatever, on CSI this was used appropriately. How do you fit that in?"

Yeah, I suck.

In other news, Nicole Kidman is preggers. Oh, good. Maybe this one will call her "mom".

Is it weird that the high point of my day was when I got all the lights in the living room to turn on with the switch?

I don't think so.

So the Critic's Choice Awards are on, and, damn, are they a snoozefest when no one pretty shows up and everybody whines about the strike.

The best part was when Nikki Blonsky flipped out and started screaming when she won. That was cute.

And I'm still pulling for Sweeney Todd, even though exactly no one from the film showed up. But whatever.

I'm kind of wondering how they're going to fill the next hour...

I am officially for sale.

I don't care how many times I have to do it, I will never, EVER get used to signing away four thousand dollars for an eighth of a degree that will give me the earning potential of, oh right, a 20-year-old working at Borders.

So, I'm for sale. If anyone is interested, let me know. Don't think I'm above anything, because I have exactly $435 left in my savings account and my books had better cost less than that.

*Totally Hypothetical Aside*

And so help me God if my grandfather even breaths a word about feeling sorry for/paying my idiot cousin for getting bombed out of his mind, I will kick his 90-year-old ass. There are those of us with REAL responsibilities and REAL bills who have the common decency to STAY HOME and drink, because BAROQUE ART IS COSTING ME THREE HUNDRED F****** DOLLARS SO DO NOT TEST ME DAMMIT.

Hmmm. I wonder why he thinks I don't like him.

*End Totally Hypothetical Aside*

Yeah, that was fun.

I suppose I could work more, but then I may be forced to kill people. If I get one more of "that guy", the guy who thinks he's so funny, like when you give them the total and he looks behind him before laughing, or when you ask "Receipt in the bag or with you?" he replies, "In the bag...with me." And then goes, "Have I flustered you yet?" I always have the overwhelming urge to scream back that I have random crazies approaching me on Downer Ave. asking for money and then screaming racial epithets at me, and it's going to take a lot more than some asshat who thinks he's "flirting" to fluster me.

Asshole.


Okay, on to happier things. As long as I had my wallet out, I cleaned out the months of old Starbucks receipts (I don't know why I always take it, it's not like I'm going to be responsible and write down the balance.) and old gift cards. And balanced my checkbook. And cried a little.

Ooh, but I got free chips and salsa for registering my Qdoba rewards card. Not that I can afford to go there anymore. Do you think they'd mind if I just came in for my free chips?

Finally, saw Juno today. And I loved it as much as I thought I would. Ellen Page was amazing, I totally love her, and oh, my gosh how much do we love Michael Cera? (So much, in case you were wondering.)

Also? I heart Jennifer Garner.

The only thing I didn't like is that Jason Bateman was kind of an asshat. And I previously loved Jason Bateman. But oh, well. I'll just watch some Arrested Development DVDs.

Cute story, and absolutely hilarious at parts. Colleen hated it, though. Just saying.

Although she did spend the ride home rambling about how if she wanted to be a writer she should really screw up more often, so maybe you don't want her opinion.

There is homemade pizza. And I go to eat it.

Various things that have nothing whatsoever to do with me or my own life.

Apparently Colleen's on a health kick. And apparently red wine is good for your heart. So apparently I'm taking care of my heart tonight, too! (Twice, because she didn't want to finish her glass. Well, I am not going to let that heart-healthiness go to waste, dammit.)



So, first on the list: Lily Allen. Who I never really formulated an opinion on because I don't listen to her music and, well, she was kicked out of my country.

But now I love her. She's 22, and recently announced that she was pregnant with her boyfriend of like three minutes' child. An unfortunate life situation. And while everybody was all "OMG, how fabulous, I'm so happy for you, how about a maternity line!" she's all "Well, I'm a bit young, aren't I? I don't think that would be a very good example."

So, bravo, Lily Allen. You make sense.



Second, I read Valerie Plame Wilson's book this today after waiting FOREVER for it at the library (Yes, I know I work at a bookstore. Shut up. I like the impersonal online ordering.) Two Three observations:

1.) I kind of dig the redactions. It's cool.
2.) I want her engagement ring. No, really. It's beautiful.
3.) God, she's annoyingly gorgeous.

Interesting, though. I highly recommend it.

Third: Carson Kressley's How to Look Good Naked (wanna know how long I've been working at Borders? I typed HT Look Good Naked. *sigh*) premiered last night.

And good Lord, I want Carson to take me bra shopping.

It was like a half-hour long therapy session, and, as much as I hate to admit it, it made me feel better! Because the girl on there was way older and definitely larger than me, and everybody loved her! So I feel better about myself.

And I'll definitely watch again.

Right now I'm going to go soak up this healthy booze with some food, though.

My little sister thinks I need to have more sex.

Last night I crawled into bed, and realized that it was warm. Really warm.


Morena: Imladris*? Were you in my bed?


Imladris: *silence*


Morena: Seriously.


Imladris: *silence*


Morena: Oh, gross. Were you sleeping in it?


Imladris: No! I was just watching America's Next Top Model. But as I was curled up in there all toasty and warm, I did think, "Damn, if only she were out having sex with her boyfriend, I could sleep here." But you're home like every night!!!


We're functional.


*I don't actually call my sister by her screenname. That would be weird. Although my dad does.

No, Carter CAN'T, DAMMIT.

We watch a lot of HGTV in our house. Or rather my mom does, and as I'm usually in or around the room, I absorb a lot of HGTV. And occasionally yell comments at the screen.


What? Sometimes I just can't help myself. Like Designer's Challenge, hosted by That Guy From the Bachelor where people are all "Oh, well, we're on a budget, so we only have $25,000 to devote to the vanity area, and the whole bathroom absolutely has to come in under 100 k, we just really need to be responsible." Oh, bite me. If you have enough money to literally shove it up your ass, please do so or SHUT UP. *ahem*

Or the show I don't know the name of because I always just call it "the color show" because it's some probably art history major who parlayed her years of artist, title, dating into a color wheel and openly lusting after the carpenter/painter/idiot who comes in and helps her. God, the giggling. I can't stand the giggling.

But my favorite is Carter Can.

Because, um, he totally has his own show because of his mad carpentry skillz.

Right?

It has nothing to do with the fact that all the frustrated and neglected wives of middle America can watch and come up with lots and lots of other things that I'll bet Carter can do, too. I'd put in a dirty double entendre here if I knew enough about carpentry- something about pipes maybe? Laying down tile? Stuffing upholstery? (Okay, I don't even get that one.)

So if you get a chance, please watch HGTV for roughly four minutes and you'll catch the commercial, with that grinning fool pretending to know how to nail something (NAIL! How could I have missed that one?) even though clearly hair gel comes up far more frequently around set.

I have to work tonight, and I am not amused. And I'm not feeling well.

Still not amused.

Because I have to go, only one link, again-

I'm sure there's a My Heart Will Go On reference in here somewhere, but I'm not going to try to find it. Meanwhile, I like the caption- who's butt indeed?

Christmas is still relevant because I SAY SO.

I don't care that it was over a week ago and you all have moved on and put away the presents and maybe even the tree (not that I blame you, if I had half an ounce of motivation ours would be gone, too), but dammit I've been busy and I want to talk about Christmas.

*ahem*

It was fun. Quiet, but fun. There was food and drinking and gifting and I got to wear a very pretty dress that made me look not fat and my hair was working, so yay!!!

I got the Supreme Court DVD set that I really wanted, and I've watched it like sixteen times and it's kind of amazing and goodness I love judicial review and they got O'Connor and Roberts to talk occasionally and my Inner Judicial Whore is passed out in the corner from excitement!!!

Wow. Look at the running on that's going on up there. Huh. Must be the cold medicine.


Spent the days after Christmas chilling (aforementioned DVD set), seeing movies (National Treasure 2? Does not suck!) and getting sick (grrr.)

Good times.

And now things are back to normal and it's slightly depressing although a lot cleaner because I cleaned the house today for the first time since Christmas because dammit if no one else is doing anything then I'm not either!

Must. Stop. Run. On. Sentences.



Oooh, speaking of the crazy- The Boy bought Guitar Hero II with his Christmas money. And oh Lord if there's one thing that could tear me away from Sandra Day O'Connor talking about Marbury v. Madison it's the chance to play Message in a Bottle by the Police on a stringless guitar twenty-five times in a row without blinking.

I love it.

I need it.

I can't get enough.

Only one link today-

Hahaha. That's karma, baby!!!

Happy 2008

The new year is 21 hours old, and I'm sick as a dog, high as a kite, quickly running out of similes, and got carded buying NyQuil.

But I do want to post every day. And I am not not posting on the first day.

So this has been your post, and I'll see you tomorrow when perhaps mucus isn't flowing from almost every orifice in my body.