Never fails.

A seven hour shift will always give one blog fodder. And bang-one's-head-into-a-wall fodder. Or is that just me.

Before we get to the crazy, can I be sentimental for a moment? It was really weird to be back at work like everything was totally normal and my life hadn't completely fallen apart since I was there last. It was kind of a fluke that I was off the last week, so I didn't even have to call in and say, "Um, yeah, not coming in today." and it's so weird that it's all finished now and back to work. Really, really weird.

Okay. Crazy. Let's start with when one manager and a customer were, like, totally orgasming over Daniel Silva, and his suits! And his articulateness! And whatever! Um. Okay. I don't get it. And coming from someone who almost freaking preordered In Treatment? That's saying something.

Then I got a phone call from some woman wanting "the new Obama book". Which one, lady? The presses are spewing Obama books. Seriously. Like it was the second coming or something. But she doesn't have a title, or a spelling on the last name, or a first name. But you must know what it is! It's the hot new seller about Obama!

So I roam for a few minutes, claw through the stacks of Obama books on the new release shelf and ask everyone else who was working and none of us know of this book. I relay this to her, and she huffily hangs up.

Three minutes later the phone rings again. "Hi, I called about a book a few minutes ago?" Yeah, I remember. This time she has a title, Obama Nation. She helpfully suggests, "Obama. Like the guy running for president."

As opposed to all the other Obamas out there having books written about them. I may not be voting for him, bitch, but I'm not stupid.

I finally find the book in the system, but it isn't being released until next Tuesday. I tell her this. She doesn't respond well.

Woman Who Is So Stupid She Shouldn't Be Allowed To Vote (WWISSSSBATV): Well, I need some placed on hold.

Morena: Unfortunately, I can't place anything on hold until the street date. I could order some copies for you, but that would take longer.

WWISSSSBATV: *Slowly, as though to a child. A particularly slow child.* No. What I want to do is prepay for five copies, and I'll pick them up later.

Morena: I absolutely cannot sell any book before the street date, no matter when you pick them up.

WWISSSSBATV: Well! I don't understand this! Schwartz is selling them!

Morena: I wouldn't know anything about that. They shouldn't be. It's illegal. I would get sued.

WWISSSSBATV: *humph* Fine. *hangs up phone*

Morena: *considers prostitution as a possible alternative career*

All that and three children asked me if I could sell them advanced copies of Breaking Dawn because they were "OMG going to be on vacation." I'm sorry, wee ones. Did you not live through the Harry Potter phenomenon? I had to sign a freaking release saying I wouldn't touch the crates of this damn vampire book. Sparkles or no.

Gah, people are stupid.

Still no paragraphs.

Because I am still really, really exhausted. I cannot believe that a week ago he was still alive and we were trying to figure out who was going to help us in October. I didn't think that within a week the funeral would be over and we'd be talking wallpaper and renters. My mind doesn't work this quickly.

I'm hoping this fatigue disappears before I have to start classes, because I may just curl up and die if it doesn't. Or have to drop out. :)

Have to work tomorrow, which won't be too bad because it's the shortest day you can have and still have an hour break, and I'll be home by five. Yay.

So this was ridiculously interesting, no? Maybe tomorrow I'll have crazy-people stories to tell. Maybe somebody will buy some porn or make me order a lesbian romance novel for them or tell me a disgusting story that makes me call Mary on my lunch break because, um, yeah, I wasn't hearing that story and not telling Mary. And then there will be blog fodder a plenty!!!

Some Comments and Observations

That cannot be condensed into anything remotely resembling a paragraph because, oh, my God, so tired.

- What Not to Wear eyeshadow tricks? Really work well.

- I love my bracelet. :)

- I didn't screw up the reading. Or at least I don't think I did, but I'm pretty sure no one would tell me if I had. I'm glad I did it, though. And in my years of serving funerals, I've seen people flip their shit, so I'm pretty sure I was better than them.

- Mary couldn't get the coal to light. And that made me laugh, because I've been there.

- I like our new priest, he seems very nice.

- Full military honors are really cool.

- The guy who gave my aunt the flag was kind of adorable.

- Am I bad granddaughter for thinking that?

- I'm pretty sure that if I were the soldier person folding the flag, I would have started to giggle. Totally.

- I'm really, really glad that I didn't have to help somebody from church buy a sex book. Really glad.

-Drinking does make things better. Kind of. I'm not sure if the whipped cream my cousin put in his beer made things any better though.

- I'm not very good at cutting horses' manes. Case in Point: My horse. Who now needs a stylist. There is a reason that I am toiling in academia and not the cushy world of beauty school, y'all.

- Coming home from a funeral and paying a credit card bill? Not fun.

- Blue drinks? Are fun.

- OMG SRSLY WE NEED BOOZE. We're out of all the kinds of wine I like, I've already had three Manhattans today, and now no more blue drink. *tear*

Perhaps I'll give you fully formed sentences tomorrow, after I've slept for more than five hours straight, which has been the case for the last week.

We're Irish, it's gonna be a long night.

If there is one thing we know how to do, it's have a wake. So because there's actual shit going on in my actual life that requires me to, like, wear a skirt and do my hair, and that does not just happen, let me tell you, I'm only commenting on links today. You know what they say about women and sausages.

(Okay. I just read that. It sounds dirty. It's not. You're just not supposed to watch either being made if you want to enjoy them.)

Oh, wait. I lied. I must comment on the gross unfairness in our society that men (who already get to get old and fat and are still considered hot- see Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia) are able to pop into Men's Warehouse for twenty minutes and emerge with a perfectly tailored jacket that of course looks lovely with the perfectly tailored khaki pants and I had to roam Bayshore for three freaking hours to find the last sober dress they had. It is so not fair.


Anyways, John Mayer cut off his hair. Oh, John, baby, no. Not good. I liked you. I thought you were cute. I guess I don't have to pretend to like your music anymore.

Maggie Gyllenhaal wears an ugly dress. I only bring this up because at work somebody told me that I looked like Maggie Gyllenhaal, and hey, I'll take it.

Ha, you thought you were finished, didn't you?

more cat pictures

I. Do. Not. Enjoy. Shopping.

I avoid it like the plague. If the What Not to Wear people showed up I'd be like, "Um. No. Two days shopping? Ha. But do you want to get a drink, because I love you guys!!!" I enjoy getting new clothes, and I like to think that I put some thought into outfits and generally look well put together, but I absolutely hate the act of shopping. The walking around and trying on and fending off overeager sales associates who tell you that Yes! Totally! Of course that mid-calf length pink tulle skirt that billows looks good on your 5' 2"-in-heels-and-no-size-0 frame!!! Because I may be fat and not look good in a tulle skirt, bitch, but I'm not dumb.

But today I really had to shop. My grandfather didn't like to admit that women had boobs, and so perhaps showing up to his funeral naked would be inappropriate. And I have no summer funeral clothes. Actual summer (the summer you can't get away with wearing winter clothes in summer) in Wisconsin is like three months long. I'm not investing in a huge summer dressy wardrobe for twelve weeks. I don't go to a whole lot of formal events, so I kind of skate by with a couple of skirts and dressy pants. But I didn't have any sober clothes that I felt good in.

(Shut up! I know that what I wear to my grandfather's funeral isn't the most pressing matter, and believe me, it's not. But if I can find a skirt and sweater that make me look good, I can deal with things a lot better. I have a heart, dammit!!!)

So I went to Bayshore with Imladris this afternoon for my least-favorite kind of shopping trip- you absolutely need something RIGHT NOW, you know what you need, and it probably won't be stocked at the end of July, and it's a depressing need to boot. Ugh.

$300 and four hours later, I did actually have two outfits. There was some slight screaming and tears and OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW when the zipper of the perfect slate-gray skirt that I had finally found a top for broke and it broke while it was on me and I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to get out of that and oh, yeah, Banana Republic charged me eighty dollars for it. But I got out, and fixed the zipper, and all is right with the world.

In my family, deceased members have had a tendency to send credit cards to people. If they could start that for me now, that'd be awesome.

This sucks.

We knew it was coming. Logically, we should have been prepared. It's just...well, when I have nothing to say... Words like "died" or "passed away" don't seem to capture it, do they? Verbs can't describe the feeling you have when you lose someone who has been such a huge part of your life, this force, sometimes an incredibly trying force, I'm not going to lie, and then he's just gone.

I knew it would happen last night. I stood in his living room last night and remembered how I felt ten years ago when Grandma died, and I knew that the next time I went back there it wasn't going to be his house anymore. It's not just the actual fact of him, my grandfather, being gone, but the huge sucking absence of the whole chunk of my life that was based around him.

At least now he knows that I really did love him, even when I was in a pissy mood.

(I know, right? Me? Never.)

Tell God your plans...

So I literally was pushing "Publish Post" when the phone rang last night, with a rather upset Mickey saying Grandpa was confused and asking for us and something was weird. From a woman who predicted 9/11, we paid attention. So much for good day posts.

Today not so much. Not bad, just oh. So. Tired. At Mickey's until 1:30 in the morning, worked all day, and then had to pick up the metric assload of mail that had accumulated. I don't know what kind of mailing lists that man is on, but damn, there are a lot of priests out there asking for money.

Now I want to die. I was so tired that during my break today I read Cosmopolitan instead of my art forgery book because big words like Van Meergeran? And zinc? So hard to focus on.

Great Thoughts

Today not so sucky. Mostly because I got to stay home and scrub floors. Since the shit hit the fan last Saturday, I have done exactly nothing around my own house except laundry, and it showed. Now everything is clean, and I am obsessively compulsively happy again.

Mickey only had to stand in her corner once today. Improvment.

Poor Little Hospice Nurse #2 seriuosly and unwittingly saved her own ass when she complimented Mickey's decor (something out of Michael Eisner's wet dream...well, actually, I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what really shows up in those...).

Let's hope it continues.

This totally counts.

I haven't been to bed yet, it's still techinically Tuesday.

Dear Starbucks Guy,

Um. Yeah. You tried to take my coupon and when I asked nicely, "Oh, isn't that reusable?" you kind of just scrunched up your face and went, "Um, I don't think so."

Oh. Ha. You're wrong.

It is reusable. Completely. Until September 2. And you can bet your ass at closing on September 1 I will be there with bells on wanting my $2 grande.

No fair being a Nazi about the coupons, either. Most Starbucks in the area don't even require them. And also? Do you know what I went through to get those damn coupons? I clawed through recycling, dude. Someone else's recycling.

And I have not had a good day. Or a good week. In fact, this whole summer is shaping up to be one giant stinking pile of shit. It certainly will be for the poor women who has to work with someone who shall remain nameless but scared Poor Little Hospice Nurse almost out of her chosen profession tonight. It's late, and I'm tired, and I want my reduced price cold drink, do you understand?

That's right, pretty boy. Don't mess with me.

Love,

Morena

So much more fun on NBC.

I was sitting in the ER today, and while the woman was explaining resuscitory measures and she goes, "You know, it's not like ER on TV."

Uh. No shit.

I didn't see Dr. Kovac or Noah Wylie out there, and you, ma'am, are no Bend It Like Beckham Chick.

No snark.

Gosh, without the snark my blog isn't much, is it? Hmm. I'll have to try to figure out a way to post something other than "Hi! I'm tired! *headdesk*" or "Hi! My grandpa's dying!" or "Hi! Would you like another picture of a cat?!" Because my main readership (read: my mom and aunt) is probably like, "Uh...duh. We knows. And please. Enough with the cats." So today we're doing a meme that I've had on my computer forever. A list of The Big Read's most published books. On average, an adult has only read 6 out of the 100. I'm at 45 out of the 100, so I'm feeling pretty good about myself. :D

Bolded are the books I've read.
Underlined are the books I've loved.
Italicized are the books I intend to read.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible I'm not sure, I guess I've read most of it.
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Ronald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

ETA: Ooh! I can still be snarky at my immediate family. So Father Dearest, and your complete and utter inability to leave the air conditioning on for more than 24 hours straight. Not appreciated by those of us who had to stand for two hours with an blow dryer and flatiron and do not say, "Just let it be curly!" because if everything else in my life is going to fall apart, dammit, at least my hair will look good ALL THE TIME because as I found out today when I came home and found two people sobbing about two completely different things, that shoe? Can drop at any time. But when it does, my hair will be frizz-free.

That is all. Good night.

*snarf*

more cat pictures

List

1.) The Dark Knight was amazing. One of the best movies I've seen, and even better than the first one, which I adored. Heath Ledger was fantastic, even if I watced most of the first half of the movie through my fingers. I'm a wuss.

2.) CHRISTIAN BALE SO HAWT OMG.


3.) John is scarred for life.


4.) This morning when I was bopping around at eight o'clock thinking hey! I don't need more than four hours of sleep! Was clearly a lie, as I want to die now.


5.) Omelets without potatoes aren't even worth it.


6.) It's a very good thing I got potatoes.

7.) MAMMA MIA BESTEST MOST FUNNEST MOVIE EVER OMG.

8.) You cannot go see Mamma Mia and then not buy the soundtrack. At least I couldn't.

9.) Dancing Queen is a fun song.

10.) Doctor Who episodes lacking the actual doctor? Not so much fun.

11.) Seriously. Mamma Mia. Go see it.

12.) Real life sucks.

13.) PSYCH IS BACK!!!

14.) I'm crashing now.

15.) Good night.

Emmys

Um. Yeah. I was totally going to do a real post today, and then I sort of...didn't. And now it's 8:30 and I'm leaving to see the Dark Knight in about an hour and damn, the skies look ominous and I really, really do not want to sit outside in the rain for hours and I'm tired and bloated and little bit sugar-high because instead of dinner I had a cup of coffee and a Blizzard. But it was tasty!!!

So I give you the Emmy nominations. My commentary will be following the lists there, because frankly I'm too lazy to find another, more comprehensive list.

Generally I'm pleased. I want The Office to win for best comedy, Steve Carell or Lee Pace (I loves me some ambiguously gay piemakers) for actor in a comedy, and I guess Christina Applegate for actress. Neil Patrick Harris got a supporting actor nom for HIMYM, which I'm so jazzed about I'll probably make buttons or t-shirts or something. Drama did well, I love three of the six shows and I think I would adore Mad Men if I could get my act together and actually watch an episode. When is it even on? Oh, season 2 is starting on July 27. Okay. Maybe I'll watch then. Anyhoodles, I want Boston Legal to win. If there is ever a contest in which Boston Legal is a participant? I will always root for them. My mom vs. Boston Legal? Denny Crane, y'all.

Actor/drama I'm confused. My disturbing not-so-secret infatuation with Gabriel Byrne obviously makes me want to back him, but the whole Boston Legal thing applies for acting races too! And Hugh Laurie is the funniest when he accepts, so I would like to see that. I'll have to get back to you on that one. Actress is easy, I've only seen two of the players, and you can bet your ass I'm pushing Mariska Hargitay over Sally Field.

I want Candace Bergen to win best supporting, and I could really care less about supporting actor. I guess I'll back Lost guy, even though I haven't seen an episode in like a year.

On to page 3 (otherwise known as the ones no one cares about except maybe the nominee's wives), for the ridiculously entitled Variety, Music, or Comedy Series (which I guess is different than Best Comedy Series that has actual viewers), I want either The Daily Show or the Colbert Report. I probably like the Report more, but the losing episodes are so funny (duets with Barry Manilow and Tony Bennett) that I almost want him to lose so there will be another one. I suck like that.

Variety Special, George Carlin will certainly win and it's no use pretending otherwise. I have no emotional stake in the race.

Miniseries- JOHN ADAMS OMG!!!! Yeah. It was that good, and I'm only four episodes in. I've never seen any of the movies, and I want everyone involved in John Adams to win so hard.

And, um, yeah. That's all. Cannot wait for September 21!!!

Wait, not all. Do you think that releasing this picture today is a secret way of saying there will be an HP trailer tonight??? Because I know they've denied it and all, but DAMMIT IT WANTS IT IT IS JULY ALREADY WE NEED A TRAILER WARNER BROS!!!

*ahem*

That's all.

Hard Day.

I used to walk around saying this when I was like 18 months old, and my mom would laugh and laugh because, um, hello, 18 months old. I was the pampered toddler of a lawyer and an architect living in one of the nicest areas of town with a mother who thought that the sun literally came out of my ass. Things were pretty good.

I guess today was okay. Just...stressful. Things aren't going well with certain family issues, and that's kind of hard to handle.

So I'm going to go watch The Colbert Report and go to bed.




more cat pictures

*hums funeral dirge*

Oh, children. It is not a good day. One might think it's not a good day because of real, actual problems affecting real, actual people in my life, and while they would be technically right, that's not what I'm talking about.

No, today there is horrible news. William Petersen is leaving CSI.

And a little part of me died. At least it's not Mac. I couldn't handle it if it were Mac. And it won't be, because those kids of his apparently won't stop eating if the pained I-used-to-be-an-Oscar-nominated-actor-and-now-I'm-reduced-to-trite-one-liners-over-dead-semen-stained-bodies look is any indication.

Also, what the hell is he leaving to do? Before this I think he was in one Lifetime movie. Now he has the cushiest gig on TV, and he wants to leave? Stupid, stupid man.

Your regularly scheduled update has been postponed.

While I stop and geek out over the brand-new repackaged History of Britain.

Now, since I haven't heard back from the admissions department at Columbia (Shockingly, "stalking a faculty member" isn't considered a slam dunk essay. Who knew?), I was planning on asking for this for my birthday.

(Only two more shopping months! Which in my family, who have taken the art of procrastination to epic and beautiful new levels, is practically too late to release a wish list.)

Only problem was that it used to be like HUGE (seriously, five separate cases, and heavy) and like $60. I got my Supreme Court DVDs for Christmas and they were actually slightly more expensive, but I'm convinced that that was because my mom mostly wanted to watch my sister's reaction when I suggest them every single movie night. (Shut up. Judicial review is a thrilling plot line. And Sandra Day O'Connor and John Roberts show up! I heart them! More than I heart many celebrities!. So yeah. I wasn't planning on that again.

But now they're like half the price! And totally doable for one's 21st birthday!!! Right?!?! (History of Violence Note: Please discuss before I get six copies of a 15-hour documentary.)

Also I still want The Power of Art. More, possibly. But that didn't get a price cut and it's own blog post.

OOOH! And Doctor Who DVDS!!! Split the cost, ransom children, sell body parts, meet truckers at a rest stop, I don't care what you have to do, I NEEDS SEASONS 2 and 3!!!

*ahem*

Terribly Important Retail-Type Work.

I had a discussion about Teh Pants of Awkward at work today, and it was hi-larious. Derrick and I were talking to this other guy about Sweeney Todd, and he was all, "What? I didn't notice the pants!" and Derrick's just like, seriously? Because all four of us immediately felt the need to comment on them the SECOND they showed up.

And it's true. Colleen almost headbutted me she was so eager to mock.

Well, to be fair, they are so easily mocked. I'm not even sure I can watch Harry Potter anymore.

***

Other major accomplishment today (other than watching the Very!First!SVU episode! and stalking Catherine Tate on YouTube), I went to the Kit movie with mommy and Colleen. They changed everything. Like, everything. It was set in the Great Depression, but that was about it. And the ending? Was really Molly's ending, which was destroyed in Molly's movie last year.

Abigail Breslin is the cutest thing ever, though. I want to adopt her.

I'm waiting for the Kirsten movie. Because I don't care what Colleen says, she was so important to the American Girl universe. Or at least my universe. I could probably recite the stories. I read the book so many times I wore the covers out. They're taped, y'all. And Kirsten was hardcore. She had dead friends, language barriers, Minnesota winters, and stumbling upon a dead guy.

Although in the story that my dad would read to me, she and her brother then used the dead guy as a sled to pull the pelts home. Much like the Bible story in which Abraham invites the angels to have a couple of celebratory beers after they announce that Sarah will have a baby- don't worry, Sarah doesn't have one, she's pregnant.

It was an interesting childhood.

Anyway. Kirsten. Needs a movie.

Perhaps not the right frame of mind.

Dear Lady Sitting Next to Me at Mass,

I'm sorry. Maybe you were absent on that day of Christian Formation and General Courtesy, but you do not read the bulletin all through the Liturgy of the Word. It's kind of a big deal. Divinely inspired and all. It's really rude to just sit there paging. You're really old, and I see you at Mass every week, so clearly you know that you're supposed to be at least pretending to pay attention.

Also? It's rude to stare judgementally at me all through Mass because you think we're sitting too closely. First of all, you moved closer to me. Second, I realize that I arrived with a group roughly the size of a circus (a slow-moving circus at that), but that's not really their fault.

Let's keep this in mind for next week, mmkay?

***

Yeah. Next week I'm going alone. Between the fact that we literally went to Communion in pairs, held up several lines, and then had to grumble when Grandpa stopped to talk to this guy who is generally a pretentious asshat and WE AREN'T EVEN FRIENDS WITH HIM for like TEN MINUTES, it was way more attention-grabbing that I would have liked.

I also don't like this priest. He's slow, and annoying, and speaks in this voice that makes me kind of want to convert to Judaism. He doesn't bow at the "through the power of the Holy Spirit He was born of the Virgin Mary and became man" line in the Nicene Creed, which, I'll be honest, I kind of half-heartedly do, but it was nice when the priest at least did it.

And he doesn't do the hand-washing "wash away my iniquities" part which is (and yes, I checked) PART OF THE MASS THAT YOU CAN'T SCREW WITH. I don't like him. He should go back to helping the apparently large and sinning Asian population.

On a not-grumbly PMS-ing notes, we're watching Vantage Point tonight! I've wanted to see this like forever, so yay!

Are you the Doctor? Doctor who?

From Comic Relief 2007, I give you only the greatest video ever.

Two things-

1. I heart his real accent.

2. Bite me, alien boy.

I can die now.

Meh.

Not feeling inspired today. Nothing to write.

Pretty boring day. I did nothing. Read The Seven Storey Mountain. I decided that if I were born a man I would never even consider the fact that God may be calling me to be a Trappist monk, because, um, no. Hours of choir? I was in children's choir for like six minutes in grade school and OH MY GOD I AM STILL TRAUMATIZED AND WHINING ABOUT THE INHUMANITY OF HAVING TO DEVOTE A WHOLE HALF HOUR A WEEK TO SINGING GAH.

Yeah. I don't think I was terribly easy to live with circa 1997.

Anyhoodles, it's a good thing I'm not called to the monastic life. The other nuns? Would kick me out. Probably around Day 2, when I decide that they really need extended cable and announce this, probably during some silent prayer time.

Occasionally there were huge storms that blew up. That was pretty cool. I guess if I was sequestered in an abbey somewhere I could still enjoy the storms.

Ooh, one thing, most likely for Mickey, because I'm pretty sure she's the only one who watches SVU- did you ever see the episode where this art grad student sleeps with her professor and then cries rape and they're both totally crazy and manipulative and major whores (both of them), and you totally don't know who to root for, and then the episode ends before they announce the verdict? WHAT? What the hell is up with that? I must know!!!

Gah. Dick Wolf, why must you torment me?

Score one for the academic track.

Oh, internets. Law school is seriously losing in the running tally of masochism that exists only in my head. I clearly need a job that gives me a summer break.

After all, today I accomplished the very important task of finding a Youtube video of David Tennant both singing and having sex in some BBC show that isn't available anywhere stateside.(Yes, I checked).

Yep.

I'm not linking. For obvious reasons. Chief among them that he's not that great a singer. But I will say that it made my day.

Then I ordered the BBC production of Casanova from the library.

See, internets? This shit does not get done during the school/working year. I was too tired to even stay up and watch Doctor Who last semester. That is a sad, sad state of being.

Now I'm going to go sit in a car outside my grandfather's house for half an hour because there is some mold in his house that I'm pretty sure still thinks that women can't vote. Notsomuch fun with my sinuses. Then I shall ferry garbage from Fox Point to Grafton.

I think I'm going to go watch that video again.

Saintly

I’ve never been really into the saints. I’m not sure why. While my faith is strong, I’m generally distrustful of anything towards the charismatic end of things, or anything apparition-y (don’t get me started on Joan of Arc), as well as excessively public displays of faith or devotion.

I have no problem with the saints, obviously. I’ve been randomly inspired at times by random saints- I love that my middle name is Elizabeth, and enjoyed learning about St. Elizabeth, the Hungarian princess who helped the poor. I think that St. Thomas More is a fantastic example for people to follow, because of his incredible devotion (martyrdom) and humanist viewpoint, as well as his theories on religious education, particularly of his daughters. But where my sister has St. Therese, and my mom has St. Philomena, I’ve never really had my own saint.

I’ve always been more of a Blessed Mother girl. My mom would say the Hail Mary when she was pregnant with me. After I was born and didn’t have much hope for living or doing anything particularly stunning like, oh, sitting up, she prayed to Mary. And when I spent three years of high school at a Lutheran university, arguably one of the best things that I could have ever done for my Catholic faith (I know, right?), one of the biggest things I came away with was an appreciation of Mary and my devotion to her. They didn’t have rosaries or any real emphasis on Mary, and I found that depressing.

Today I read My Life with the Saints, by James Martin. I saw the author on a television show. (Okay. It was The Colbert Report. But I swear, I watch things other than Comedy Central occasionally. No. Really. I do.) I really liked him because of how he talked about his feelings about the pope changing over the past two years. I think it’s really inspiring to hear how an avowed liberal was moved and changed by the pastoral nature of the office of the papacy. Anyway, I read the book and it’s amazing.

I absolutely love the idea of treating the saints like friends, people we meet at different points in our lives who can help us with specific problems or at certain times. I think it’s a very simple, almost childlike way of looking at the saints- and one that everyone, even people who have never really connected with a saint before, could use.

Patience is a virtue.

One that I decidely do not possess. I don't know if it is the fact that I'm a control freak, or just not naturally a warm and cuddly person, but I am not patient. So do not tell me over and over and over for DAYS in advance exactly when you would like me at your house to pick you up, and then act all amazed when I managed to "do a real good job" getting to the doctor in only half an hour!

As though I wasn't a 20-year-old who's been driving for five years and drives that EXACT SAME ROUTE three times a week for school and OF COURSE I know how long it takes to get there or I would have STARTED FAILING CLASSES.

Not that you would care, because I do not have a penis or the first name "Steven", and therefore could attain tenure at Harvard and it still would not be as important as whatever Golden Boy was doing at that time, but whatever.

And yes, somewhere in the four years of private school, five years of homeschooling, and the past five years I've been enrolled in college classes, I did, in fact, learn how to push the little button to make the handicap door open. I'm not sure if it was the law background or the four Latin courses, but boy something clicked and I can push buttons like nobody's business now!!!

Finally, if I am driving and you say "Oh, nuts. I forgot something," and I say, "Would you like me to turn?" do not just mumble discontentedly but TELL ME BEFORE I PASS REGENT DAMMIT.

*deep breath*

It wasn't that bad. Mostly funny because he refused to remove his lips from the doctor's butt, which I often find amusing. And the receptionist said I was beautiful. So not a bad day.

Except for the patience thing. Which I clearly must work on. I'm not a bitch. Seriously. My mother agrees.

Don't worry, the history books will clean it up.

We're watching 1776.

And wow- they're pretty much just singing about sex. When we watched this as kids (oh, the joys of homeschooling) I totally didn't get that.

But now I do, and I'm terribly amused by it.

My eye is swollen.

It's weird. And freaking me out. Swelling always freaks me out. It's unnatural.

I'm going now. Good night.

It's a slutty cat.

Because I'm clearly too tired and have had way too much to drink to contribute anything more into the internets.

Except this- SCREW YOU IMLADRIS. Someday, when I write a book that gains me tenure, I am so not thanking you. Pssh. Bitch.


more cat pictures

Oh, that's a visual.

Today at work some asshat honestly asked me, "So, how long does it take to learn how to be a coffee girl?" And then told me that if my Starbucks closed, I'd have to find another job, like maybe at McDonalds.

After I pointed out that I do not, in fact, work at Starbucks and they could close all of them and it would not affect my employment in the least I refrained from spitting in his drink because clearly as a coffee girl who could work at McDonalds I cannot be expected to be able to control my own saliva.

Then he offered to arm wrestle me for his drink.

This is when I stopped being even remotely polite. I was only remotely polite in the first place because the CEO was supposed to come by for a secret visit and I really didn't want to piss of the CEO. Especially because I owe five grand now.

I seriously need to get into grad school. Soon.

I have Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me" stuck in my head.

It's annoying.

Not quite as annoying as being forced to electronically sign two promissory notes and complete two entrance exams and then print off two ten-page documents allowing a random bank (And oh, it was random. By the end there I was just checking boxes.)to give me five grand and then trek all across the entire house to get my drivers license because they totally needed the number omg.

*headdesk*

Why ten pages each? I'm not sure. Presumably because there were several medieval torture clauses allowing the abovementioned random bank to employ waterboards, bamboo shoots, and a rack as well as draw and quarter me if I default after the nine-month grace period following dropping below a half-credit load. I told you, I wasn't paying attention by the end.

And I'm pretty that as of the moment I had to cut my finger and spread the blood all over the keyboard, the devil owns my soul, and has first dibs on my firstborn, which I also have to name Faust.

I'm just guessing.

So yeah. I'm thousands of dollars in debt and breaking out in hives. It was a good day.

AND DAMMIT THAT SONG IS STILL IN MY HEAD.

Damn my concerned and involved mother.

On the episode of The Office I was just watching, they had Dwight give Ryan a Venus of Willendorf that his cousin Mose supposedly carved.

And I wigged out I was so amused. Clearly someone on the staff is an art history geek. Or maybe just into ancient fertility statues. Which I don't really want to think about.

This is just another example of how my education has prepared me to do nothing but watch television.

Sadly, NBC doesn't offer health insurance for fans. Unfortunate, really.