(I knew I forgot something.)

Today's icons all brought to you by Autumn, who has finally deigned to arrive here in Wisconsin, chasing the evil 86 degrees yesterday somewhere East where it cannot touch me.

Ha.

I have exactly two things on my mind today, and thus you will subjected to two completely separate but equal sections (can you guess where I'm going with the one of them?).

Section #1- The Myth of Higher Education. Or, How Ancient Egyptian Civilization and Physiological Psychology will be the Death of Me.

I. Am going. To fail.

Hard.

Tomorrow morning, I have an exam on six classes worth of stuff I can't pronounce or understand- and it's all essay. Grrr.

Do you know the cultural significance of Deir al-Medina? Karnak? Amarna?

Yeah. I don't either.

Then on Monday is apparently the worst test I'll ever take EVER OMG, at least according to the pick a prof reviews and the TA, who himself is scared shitless by the professor. *waves goodbye to 4.0*

You know the problem with getting a 4.0? You feel all happy and fulfilled over the summer, but then fall comes and anything less than an A looks like failure.

I suck.

I did totally kick my oceanography midterm's ASS today, though, y'all.

And, dude, the TA for that class is ridiculously hot. Why don't we have a discussion???

Section #2- Whose Brilliant Idea Was it to Have Premiere Week During Midterms??? Or, Why Ancient Egyptian Civ and Physiological Psychology Will be the Death of Me.

Because when you have all of your old favorites and as well as some genuinely good new shows (Chuck! Cane! Back to You!), figuring out what's so damn important about Lahun and Kahun (I know one's a pyramid and one's a village, but damned if I know which is which!!!) looks like so little fun.

Already wrote about HIMYM on my other blog (Welcome back, baby!!! Mommy missed you!!!). Monday night also included The Big Bang Theory (Um, not sure yet. It could get better I guess.), Two and a Half Men (so funny), and part of CSI: Miami (H has a son? God, that must have been an awkward, over dramatic conception.)

Chuck was my favorite though. I've been hoping it would live up to the advertising that NBC has been running since, ooh, 1998, and I think it did. Genuinely funny and lovable characters, good writing, and interesting plot. I'm definitely watching again. Although that's not saying much. Because I watch everything. *waves Studio 60 fan flag in the air*

Last night was Bones (Everyone's hair changed. And I'm not sure I'm amused. But Zack came back from Iraq!!! Sorry, that was a lot of unintentional rhyming.), House (I kind of miss the team, although not as much as I thought I would. Mostly I just don't want new people coming on to MY SHOW. *ahem*), Boston Legal (OMG YAY I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH WHAT LIKE ONLY HALF OF YOU WERE THERE WHY IS SHIRLEY SLEEPING WITH THE NEW GUY EWW GROSS. *ahem* Also, why would you want Alan Shore to be the father of your baby? He'd be like the worst father ever. EVER.), and Cane (Pretty good. I was born far too late for Dynasty or Dallas or some other D show with lots of whores and money, so this could work for me.)

Tonight: We are (over) packed with Back to You, Criminal Minds (NO MANDY DON'T GO!!!), Private Practice, and CSI:NY (Yes. Yes. YES.)

So obviously the Lahun/Kahun difference will have to go down as one of life's unanswered mysteries. :-)

At least I can wear my sweatshirt.

All Hail the triumphant return of TV Watch.

Due to the seizure-inducing happiness of HIMYM, I give you, a new post.

Yes. I realize it's been a year. I'm sorry.

Because we have the emotional maturity of 12-year-olds.

The Boy is writing a lab report (undertaken with the amount of seriousness ususally reserved for major scientific and political innovations or the threat of nuclear war) about how periods (the time it takes for a rope to swing) are lengthened or shortened.

And Colleen and I cannot control our inappropriate laughter.

She had to leave the room.

Day 7 of the Cold that Won't Quit: I want to die. Preferrably before my psych discussion on Friday.

*long, drawn out gurgling/groaning noise*

I. Don't. Feel. Good.

(So not good that I'm not even going to correct the flagrant violation of my personal cardinal rule of grammar committed in the sentence above.

I've been on a rigorous four-hour cycle of DayQuil today, which allowed me to actually drag my poor soppy body to Egyptian civ this morning, because OMG MAJOR TEST COMING SOON YOU'D BETTER DROP THE CLASS OR ELSE!!! or something, and I felt scared shitless compelled to go.

Then I came home and watched Boston Legal. And now the sheer effort of typing is exhausting me and causing my mucous membranes to stage a revolution.

The Grand Duchess is not amusing.


Le anyhoodles, the second half of my title falls under the List of Things That I Never Ever Want to Do Ever In Life EVER DID YOU HEAR ME???

This list was previously topped by things like eat spinach (age five), wear pink (age eleven), assorted lesser treasons (post-9/11, age fourteen), speak in public (age sixteen-present), become a journalist (age nineteen), and marry anyone other than Josh Groban (age twenty).

(Yes. It is a strange list.)

(Could I use a few more parentheses?)

(Apparently!!!)

(Back to our post...)

However, my desire to offer myself sacrificial-virgin-like at the alter of Groban took a step down today when I got an e-mail from my psych TA with our weekly discussion assignment.

About Freud.

And his freaky sex stuff.

(Yes, I know it has another name. But it is freaky sex stuff.)

Yep, children, I am going to have to turn in a paper on and discuss psychosexual development- in class, with my peers, and one guy I think is kind of hot.

I am not a prude. At all. I think we established that with the sacrificial virgin comment above. But this is just disgusting. For instance, which aspect should I focus my analysis on?

1.) The concept that all women are deeply masochistic, due to childbirth, and therefore we all have rape/abuse fantasies. (Although this would explain the romance section at work. Who knew so many women wanted to have sex with vampires? I sure didn't...)

2.) The phallic stage. (I'm sorry. I am not saying the word "phallic" in public. Ever.)

3.) Little boys want their moms, but worry their dads are going to get mad that they want their moms and cut off their...um...phallic areas. (Typing's easier than speaking...)

4.) Little girls want their dads, and emulate their moms in an effort to get him. (Oh God no.)

5.) All women want male reproductive organs. (Um...oookay....)


And I'm all for a mature discussion of the theories surrounding sexual development in adolescents in the academic setting. I mean, there's not a chance in hell I'd participate in it, but still. Except that Freud is almost universally accepted as a CROCK OF SHIT. So there is no reason for this damn assignment.

Ugh.

There aren't enough participation points in the world.

I'm going to go watch The Office and then see if I feel well enough to brave four lectures in a row on a nasty-ass bus with other people's germs eww all over.

Good night.

English teachers of the world: "many" and "varied" mean two different things, morons.

First, a little digression. They're replaying the finale of How I Met Your Mother (NEXT MONDAY OMG) and omg how sweet!!! I flippin' love this show.


I apologize for the lack fo updates lately, as I have been feeling very much of the suck, except for about four hours on Saturday night during my birthday party. (Lots of food, booze, and presents---whee!!!)

Other than that, I've been waking up dizzy, hot, achy, and unable to breath through my blocked sinuses.

So for a week I've been swirling a Benadryl in DayQuil and downing it with a fexofenadine chaser, and that's worked pretty well if repeated every four hours. But it's clearly not actually making me any better, because it's been a freaking week and today was so bad I came home from school, fell asleep, got up half an hour ago to eat pizza that I couldn't taste, and right now I'm thinking that some NyQuil and a ten hour night would be AWESOME. *le sigh*

Okay. I'm definitely going to bed at nine.


I was listening to the radio the other morning, and I heard this, quite possibly the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. My favorite? The West Allis Barbie, with optional GED and bus pass...


I'm going to go drink a bottle of NyQuil. See you tomorrow.

In which I have two irrational outbursts and discuss the pitifully overlooked film "Snowcake"

Irrational Outburst #1: I effing hate the Milwaukee County transit system. So. Hard.

First, there was apparently a massive population surge circa 1988 and now there are entirely too many college students riding MY bus this year, forcing me to *gasp* stand for the majority of my commute. And in case anyone reading this has never been shoved between sixteen people, trying desperately not to brush into their...um...sensitive areas, lest one be labeled overeager/whorish/a lesbian when one occasionally falls off of one's four-inch platforms as the bus travels at alarming speeds down the the freeway, oh, and trying not to sneeze or breath because other people are sneezing and breathing one's own diseased air, I don't recommend it.

At all.

Also, without the helping hand of the MCTS, I wouldn't have stood outside for twenty five minutes this morning waiting for a bus that didn't come, finally giving up and driving down to campus, parking in some level that may or may not have been into the mantle of the Earth, paying two dollars and hoofing it to the building far far away where my lecture was half over, only to realize that I could have stayed home and watched the movie Thirteen Days and received the same information.

Yep. Being picked up on time, dropped off in front of my building all for free wouldn't have been nearly as much fun.

*le frustrated sigh*

Irrational Outburst #2: I am over the whole Boy Being in School thing. Not that I'm not pleased that he is having a good time and all that, but he has homework. That he feels the need to do in common areas of the house, thus preventing me from watching The View (my VCR is rather territorial and refuses to play anything that was not recorded on it...thus negating my ability to watch it upstairs). Also, it is math homework.

You know, the "Sally and Jessie and Raphael each have two red socks, and Sally has a black sock, but Raphael is two years older and Jessie has two oranges, so how long would it take them before they get to the museum if Sally's mom drives at 35 mph and there's a train coming from San Antonia at 250 mph?" sort.

Also leading to endless hours of conversations like the following-

Boy: Wouldn't six hours be $240?

Mother: No. Think about it.

Boy: I am, and with the sixty dollars and hour plus the fee...

Mother: Just for the first two hours. After that you take x, divide by y, and multiply by z.

Boy: Of course, but then you have to factor in density, as well as the laws of probability, and that would be $240!

Morena: *ears bleed*

My birthday was on Tuesday, and it was lovely and I was showered with gifts that I have yet to find a place for, and then was treated to takeout and a few North and South episodes (not the Patrick Swayze version). Yayness.

But perhaps more importantly, Snowcake was released on DVD. And for those of us in the United States where they deigned not the FREAKING SHOW IT IN THEATERS, it was the first time watching it.

It was really good, kind of sad, but ultimately uplifting. I loved the part at the end because Carrie Ann Moss's (who I never really liked before) face was priceless, like "I can't believe I'm doing this..."

Also? Grieving ex-con is a very good look of Alan dear.

I have no links, but a few Lolcats for you---

One that rang particularly true given our current computer situation. As of last night that was resolved finally, though, much to the rejoicing of the villagers my family.

I agree, Lolcat, I agree.

Happy Birthday to Me...

I don't get somber on this blog very much; in fact, I can only remember doing it one time before, when I finished high school. Generally I'm a pretty upbeat person- at least when I'm not whining about customers or the eighteen freaking tests I have to take this freaking semester. Except then.

But I'm feeling somber now. One of my best friends left today. We were very close, and while it's totally different than my friendships with people I've known my entire life like Mary, I loved her and her friendship just as much.

I was fifteen years old when I met her. We went though high school, "graduation", jobs, the first part of college, falling in love, my mom's illness, and her engagement together. I was going to be her maid of honor. The day my mom found out she had cancer again, she was the only friend I wanted to see- I knew she'd be supportive and understanding.

I'll be twenty years old tomorrow. She'll be starting boot camp and probably facing deployment to Iraq within eight months. Part of me is excited for her embarking on this new opportunity, but a huge part of me is scared out of my mind because she's decided to diffuse bombs during a war. I should be patriotic and support the troops. I just don't like it when I know a troop.

But more than being scared for her, most of all I'll really miss her.


{End Somber Part, Begin Normal Shallow Part}

So, I cleaned up today in terms of presents. Gift cards from Kate and Steve, and a fantastic books about my favorite Teacher-Lacking-Testicles. Complete with a hand-drawn illustration and note that makes it easily one of the best presents I've ever gotten, even if no one would understand it.

:)

Slightly somber, but not as bad as war, the computer de famille is completely dead. Apparently you're supposed dust the venty thingies on the side? To prevent dust build-up? That will burn the mother board into oblivion? Causing it to die?

Who knew?

Okay, now I suppose it says something like that in the instruction manuel, but if something as simple as dust can cause MAJOR SHUTTING DOWN Y'ALL OMG, I think it should be in bold print. At least.

So it is back to Best Buy we go. They know us there now.


It is finally cold. And I can wear a sweatshirt. And Starbucks had pumpkin spice lattes. *sighs* All is right with the world.

Finally, the metric assload of LOLCats that I've accumulated over the past week---

MOMMEE!!!

I am in ur printer...

HAHA Scholarly cat!!! *ahem*

Awww...

And, the funniest/cutest of them all.

End of a Long-Ass Week.

It's kind of sucked. I realized that I had eighteen tests this semester, a bunch of other crap, had to work all freaking weekend, and Paul Joseph made me ring up his book twice (cheap bastard).

*le sigh*

I am tired. I am cranky. I have blisters all over my feet. And I am not into being sociable tonight. So perhaps I won't be.

It is my birthday on Tuesday, and I'm far more excited about the fact that I can sleep it than my actual birthday. So, so much more. Also, my dad said he'd make the little twisty cream cheese/olive thingies. I love the twisty cream cheese/olive thingies. More than I love the twisty cream cheese/summer sausage thingies.

Did see a couple of movies, though.

The Nanny Diaries was funny and stupid in a chick flick kind of way. Different from the book, which kind of upset me, because I am the book's biggest supporter, but still good.

Also saw 3:10 to Yuma on Friday, literally hours after it premeired, even suffering the old people who got in far cheaper than I did even if they couldn't appreciate the true beauty of the film. How awesome is my fandom???

I actually really loved it. Colleen disagrees, but I thought it was really interesting and fun and fast-paced, didn't feel like two hours. Highly recommend.

I'm going to go eat my weight in chili, mmkay??? I'll do a real update tomorrow.

Things that going back to school have showed me.

1.) 6:00 a.m. is very, very early.

2.) 6:00 a.m. every day for fifteen weeks in a row? Seems even more early.

3.) Seriously. Effing early, man.

4.) I listen to way more music during the school year. I heard songs during my drive down yesterday morning that I haven't heard since May.

5.) [(Six classes x 3 to 4 exams each)+ papers+ reading+ other shit]= *head explodes*

6.) The east side is big, y'all. HUGE.

7.) Perhaps my life goal is to become a part time frozen yogurt chef and that doesn't require #5.



I guess Al Gore was right, because the entire city is going through a heat wave, and it won't be over for three days and I am not amused.

Because every single incoming freshman who has not yet stopped washing her hair/buying makeup/being able to eat everything that the cafeteria offers without gaining weight (give it two weeks, I tell you) takes this opportunity to wear tube tops and short shorts and I want to go die in a vat of ice cream.

*sigh*

Almost got a hot TA this year. Almost. It was close. Instead I ended up with the married guy with aggressive hair.

*bigger sigh*

Personality would have been so much more fun.



That's about all I've got for you today, as I have to go dry my hair, fold the laundry, dust the entire house and then go see The Nanny Diaries with Kate. Yay. I've been wanting to see that for ages, and nobody wanted to go with me.

Also need to to clear the movie-seeing decks for the double whammy of hotness coming to a cinema near you on Friday!!!

Why John Edward should be running for President instead of John Edwards.

Because he could look the country straight in the eye an tell us that Iraq is going swimmingly and we're all okay and gas prices are totally going down and thousands and thousands of overweight ethnic women will COMPLETELY BUY IT.

God. Crossing Over is my new favorite show.

He just told an Italian woman from New York that she had a large family and passed down kitchen appliances. And the woman was flabbergasted 'cuz OMG MY HUSBAND MUST HAVE TOLD HIM THAT!?!?!?!? God knows that there's no way he could tell that an Italian family would have a bunch of kids and maybe be frugal.

*sigh*

I love morons. They make such good TV.

(Oh great. Now they're crying. I love it when they cry.)

I have to be back in school in like sixteen hours, so I'm just going to do some links and then go wallow. (Oh, I'm kidding. I'm kind of happy.)

You need to find yourself a girl, mate.

I don't know where to look. It doesn't matter. It's all good.

Okay, whoever did the cover of this DVD set shaved about twenty lbs off of ALL of them. Bergan has a waist, y'all, and Spader hasn't looked like that since Secretary.

Yes, we have a weird relationship.

Morning, the living room.

Morena, Daughter Extraordinaire: What time is the Geek Squad coming tomorrow?

Mother of Morena: About one.

Morena, Daughter Extraordinaire: Oh. Oooh, maybe he'll be hot!!!

Mother of Morena: A hot geek! What a Labor day treat!!!

Morena, Daughter Extraordinaire: wtf???

End scene.

ETA: It is over between the maybe-hot Geek Squad guy and me, because they canceled our appointment and didn't let us know until today and now we won't have the real computer or the PRINTER (helpful when you're, you know, IN SCHOOL) until September 10th. Which means they can all use my thousand dollar investment for another week and a half. Oh joy.

Because there's no such thing as TMI...

What was the highlight of your week? It's a tie: 1.) When I realized Starbucks has their pumpkin spice lattes back (yay!) and 2.) When I saw he Noodles and Co. sign RIGHT!ON!MY!STREET! a

Who's car were you in last? My parents'.

Where did your last kiss take place? No comment.

What color shirt are you wearing? Black.

What was the last museum you went to? Milwaukee Art Museum

What color are your eyes? Blue

Who came over last? At home probably some relative, but two friends came by work today.

Who/what do you hate/dislike currently? Costco.

What are you listening to? That weird noise that happens when you're home alone. Like quiet, but not.

If you could have one thing right now what would it be? I should say something like world peace, but I really want a concrete mixer.

What is your favorite smell? Starbucks' pumpkin spice lattes.

What makes you the happiest? I'm gonna have to go with concrete mixers...;)

What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping.

Are you left-handed? No.

What's for dinner tonight? Probably lasagna prepared and frozen in case of Russian domination.

What is the last alcoholic beverage you had? I don't remember. Maybe bourbon?

When Is Your Birthday? 9/11

Who was the last person to send you a text message? Imladris, like six months ago.

When is the last time you were in a swimming pool? Ummm...like six years. The girl I can remember swimming with last just had a baby. That should tell you something.

Where was the last place you went shopping? Targe.t

How do you feel about your hair right now? I like it, but I wish the little layers around my face would curl instead of just hanging there.

Do you have any expensive jeawelery? Yes. But it's all inherited.

AIM or MSN? AIM.

Where does most of your family live? With me. Makes Christmas easier.

Are you an only child or do you have siblings? Little brother, little sister.

Would you consider yourself to be spoiled? In that I have a home and food, yes. In that I have to hand over my paychecks to UWM, no.

What was the first thing you thought when you woke up? SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. Maybe if I quit I could sleep in.

Do you drink beer? No.

Myspace or Facebook? Facebook.

Do you have T-Mobile? This is a stupid question. No.

What is your favorite subject in school? History.

What type of boy/girl do you usually fall for? I'm a whore for an accent. Extra points if you're older than my parents.

Do you have any talents? I correct other people's grammar.

Have you ever been IN a wedding? Yes. To the undying jealously of my little sister.

Do you have any children? In my head I have a daughter named Tacy, but in order to take corporeal form she needs sperm. Which brings us back to the question two ones above!!!

Did you take a nap today? Not yet. I'm really tired, though.

Ever met someone famous? Bob from Sesame Street. That's it. Oh, and Screech comes in to work sometimes. His girlfriend looks like a tramp but tips well.

Do you want to be famous one day? I want to be Queen of England, baby. I shoot high.

Are you a badass named Justin? Yes. Yes I am.

Could you handle being in the military? God no. A friend of mine is getting her hair cut for the Navy on Thursday and I was so upset I came home and brushed *my* hair.

What is your average cell phone bill? No clue. It goes to another house.

Do you believe in karma? I believe in Catholic karma, which is your basic karma but delayed until you die.

Ever been to Las Vegas? I was a stripper there for three years...no. I haven't.

What are you doing today? Well, I worked until three, and now I'm going to do laundry and sort through my clothes.

Have you ever been gambling? I gamble every time I do my hair. Sometimes it works, sometimes not so much.

When is the last time you updated your blog? Today

Have you been to New York City? Well, I was a stripper there for three years...no, I haven't.

Ever been to Disneyland/world? Well, I was a stripper there for three years...yes, I actually have. I didn't strip, though.

Do you have a favorite cartoon character? Um. I'm not twelve.

Last thing you cooked? Brownies.

Stupidest thing you ever did with your cell phone? That sounds really dirty.

Last time you were sick? About two months ago.

Tattoos? Icky.

Piercings? Icky. If it requires a needle, I don't have it. Including many vaccines.

Do you like guys? Yes?

Listening to? Que???

Questions I Ask Myself

I was on the FOJG message boards (shut up, I'm bored) and some woman started a thread saying that she had a ticket available for tonight's show in Omaha. She couldn't go because she was having complications due to her pregnancy.

First I thought about feverishly mapquesting Omaha (if I leave right now, could I make the encores???).

Then I thought, "Wait. If it were me, and my pregnancy, and my unborn baby; would I miss a Josh concert?"

And I honestly think the answer would be no.

I am a horrible person who will rot in hell.

Christmas in August

FOJG.com released the cover art for Josh's Christmas CD today.

I was understandably squeeling and wigging out and maybe jumping up and down and drooling over my keyboard, and Colleen comes over to see what the craziness fuss was about.

"Isn't it like the hottest thing ever!?!?!?!"

"Um...it's a picture of Josh. With a light behind him. And snow."

*sigh*

Looks like we're back to my fandom being crazier but in no way superior to her fandom.

It is clearly so much more than a picture with snow and light. Gah. She just doesn't get it.

Also some major shit going down on the boards, because it looked like Barnes and Noble and amazon.com, who both offered the "special edition" for preorder, had sold out. *shock and awe*

But then people started getting e-mails from the websites that the distributors had decided not to release a special edition.

Even though the Barnes and Noble stores *are* still accepting pre-orders.

And nobody from Josh's camp is saying anything.

This is not good.

If there is something that these women like less than the thought that Josh is the same age as their grandsons, it is being kept out of the loop.

They are not amused.

Personally, I'm not too worried. These are CDs that aren't set to be released for a month and a half. If they know they can sell a million more copies, they'll make some more. It's a disc of plastic.

It left me with one major thought though---

Thank you God that Barnes and Noble and not Borders got the rights to this. The Harry Potter thing almost killed me. I couldn't deal with irrate Grobanites calling the store for the next month who want to know WHERE THEIR CD IS RIGHT NOW OMG. And I know that all the phone calls would get tossed to me. Because my fandom cannot be silenced, and everyone I work with knows that I would do anything, including commit perjury (You may think this is farfetched, but I've actually been asked to do this for someone---and not someone whose babies I want to have. I'm just saying.), treason, or mortal sins for Josh. (Well, maybe not the bordering-on-graphic last part, but I'm sure they have a pretty good idea.)

I'd have to quit.

I don't want to be one less.

Attn: Men of the Family. The following contains a discussion of Gardasil and cervices (is that the plural?) Proceed at your own risk.

My mom was at the gynecologist for me the other day (What? I don't like hugging people. You think I'm going to get behind anything that involves stirrups and a speculum??? I think not.), and the woman practically dragged me out of the waiting room in order to get my Gardasil vaccine RIGHT NOW BECAUSE YOU ARE BEING SO IRRESPONSIBLE OMG. *sigh*

For those of you who have been following butterflies in the rain forest for the past two years and have yet to see the pervasive commercials involving alarmingly young women playing jump rope and singing about cervical cancer, Gardasil is a vaccine that protects against HPV, a sexually transmitted virus that can contribute to the cause of cervical cancer.

I have a myriad of problems with Gardasil.

On both superficial and deeper levels, the advertising bugs me. I'm pretty sure that in order to get cervical cancer, you need a cervix. And I'm also pretty sure that that first person on the commercial (the one with the skateboard?) was born a man. But that's just me.

I think they're marketing it irresponsibly, as a cancer drug rather than something that prevents an STD. I know for a fact that there are some stupid women out there who think that because they had this, they're protected and can stop going to the doctor. That really bugs me.

Second, for me, it is entirely unnecessary.

Although everyone refuses to believe me, I am not having sex with anyone. My doctor practically chortles when I respond negatively to her constant "You know you should get screened, right???" before finally giving me a quick lecture about condoms as though I were not a twenty-year-old woman who has, in fact, been though health class and eats lunch next to the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Society, the group that thoughtfully provides a bowl of them.

(Yes. My doctor thinks I'm a stupid whore.)

Even my eye doctor was surprised I wasn't on the pill. (Don't be skeeved out that I was discussing birth control with my eye doctor, it was a whole long thing about some prescriptions causing eye dryness.)

Supposing there were a reason for it, because it would be naive and ridiculous to think that no one was having sex, or if I bought into the whole "better good for the community" thing (Which I don't. I'll look out for my body, you watch yours, mmkay???), this is a brand new drug. The long-term effects have not been tested or proven.

My grandmother took some drug that they all thought was safe, and my mom wasn't sure she could have children because of it. Uh-huh. I'll have enough problems with that as it is.

And the whole maybe-making-it-mandatory thing? It just makes me get all Betty-Friedan-circa-197. I want to burn my bra and scream "keep your government off my body!!!"

*ahem*

Yes, I realize this may seem slightly incongruous for a girl who has, in fact, stood on the corner with an "Abortion is murder" sign.

Hey, you don't go to a Lutheran university for a couple years and not pick something up.

So there you have it. My multi-point treatise on why I will not be paying 900 dollars for the privilege of injecting myself with untested chemicals for something I do not, and will not, have.

Also, I'm pretty sure I embarrassed my dad. Again.

Why Jack Keruoac, Joel Osteen, and Marvel Comics can take all their books and shove them up their road-tripping, stupidly grinning, zombie asses.

AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.

*ahem*

I worked yesterday. Supposedly in the cafe, and supposedly with people all day long, thus freeing me to drink free iced tea, play my cell phone, and debate the various shortcomings of UWM's Foreign Language Department. (And there are many, let me tell you. In one afternoon, Kim and I came up with like seventeen.)

But Pam was in a tasking mood, and instead I was pulled from the cafe and was shown to a display, handed a piece of paper with a bunch of titles on it, and told to redo it. Sounds easy, except there was no room on any shelves for the eighteen thousand titles currently on the display. Resolving that issue involved about an hour of me perched on top of a ladder up at the overstock shelves trying to alphabetize Jodi Picoult's thirty-second title (I swear to God, that woman is the most prolific not-that-great-author of our generation. Shelves and shelves have been devoted to her drivel.) while bemoaning the fact that Nicholas Sparks is allowed to live and write in our world.

Because Nicholas Sparks is evil.

He is everything that is wrong with women in general today. He is sappy, and mopey, and love-sick, but not in a good way, just in a way that makes me want to retch.

And I'm convinced he is a woman.

(Halfway through my hour-long internal tirade against Mr. Sparks, a sweet little girl who was probably about eleven or twelve came up and asked me where The Notebook was. I showed her the cheapest copy I could find, and tried desperately to find a way to let the clueless father accompanying her that this was a VERY adult book, with actual not just and-then-they-kissed sex scenes, and that perhaps a little girl dulled by the Ryan Gosling/Rachel McAdams cutsiness shouldn't be reading it, but there is no way to say that without sounding like a creep. So he's just going to have to deal with the questions later on...)

Finally, I got all the crap back on the shelves, and went off to find the new books that would fill the display instead of Nicholas an his ovaries.

This posed a problem. Because they were all graphic novels.

I don't read graphic novels.

When someone asks for one, I either pawn it off on somebody else or just point vaguely at the corner of the store that houses slim books whose names are in Japanese. I think that's where they are

Except now I was being asked to find twenty different, very specific titles in that scary section. And I almost cried.

And our graphic novels are not organized in a normal, alpha by author thing that I may conceivably have a chance of figuring out. No. They're organized by character. Character? You can't always tell the character by the title. Like something called Marvel Zombies. Not under Marvel. Or Zombies.

Two hours later, when I finished the damn thing, my tubes had tied themselves for fear that they would one day give life to something with a penis who liked to read graphic novels.

Task #2 was a 50th Anniversary of On the Road endcap. By Kerouac, whose last name none of us ignorant fools staffing the bookstore could pronounce.

Except we were out of all the books that were supposed to go on it.

Leaving me to come up with titles that go with it to fill the numerous empty spots.

Oh. Lord. No.

American lit is NOT my thing. French, Russian, British, sign me up. I can even tell you who liked whose writing and who thought who was a crock. But anything written by an American I probably haven't read and if I have I probably hated it.

So do you know what's on my Jack Kerouac endcap??? The two solitary copies of On the Road that we did actually have, travel journals, and Kurt Vonnegut, who has nothing to do with anything except he's also weird and dead.

When I go in on Tuesday, I really hope someone has taken it down.

In the last twenty minutes before I got to leave, I had to do a teensy tiny Joel Osteen display. Which wasn't too taxing, except that I really, really hate Joel Osteen and his smileyness and his hot wife. Although with the number of his crappy books I've sold I think I know why he has a hot wife. There's a lot of money in faux spiritualism, apparently.

Just one link today, because I'm sitting outside (yay for notebooks!!!) and it's starting to get windy. Also, my tirade against the publishing world has taken up about half of my battery power.

Holy Christmas on an ocean liner, Josh sings Ave Maria on Noel. *is dead now*

ETA: My quest for correct grammar may be going too far. Our neighbor is teaching his son-in-law to use the dirt bike (don't ask) and just said "You're doing very good." And I had the almost uncontrollable urge to yell across the lawn, "WELL!!! HE'S DOING WELL!!!" *sigh* As though we aren't unpopular enough.

Lack of Title is Acknowledged, and Quickly Forgotten.

Today on Cuteoverload.com...no, no, I'm kidding, just cleaning out the icons.

Now please hold your astonishment, but I do not have a whole lot to comment upon today. Nothing terribly worthy has happened lately.

Except I went to lunch at Panera yesterday, and the power went out as soon as I walked in. So I went to Noodles instead.

With the literally unwashed masses from Bayside, Whitefish Bay, and Fox Point.

Teh Storms Of Teh Apocalypse (it's been a slow summer here in southeastern Wisconsin) had knocked out most of the electricity along those power grids. Lots of knotty hair and cranky kids.

Good food, though. And it was with my one friend who isn't getting married, having a baby, or doings something fantastic. (Not that Caitlin's life isn't fantastic, but you know what I mean...)

As I am living at home, alone, and probably couldn't get impregnated with a damn turkey baster, this was comforting to me.

Who knew I used to hang out with a pre-slutty crowd???



Mostly stolenLinks to comment upon in the absence of real life:

Missing Romanov bodies found? Dammit! *I* was supposed to find them! And write my dissertation on it! And set the historical world on fire! And probably run away with my hot, newly-rich-because-of-my-discoveries professor/advisor/colleague!!!

(Okay. I just added that last part. But it's very Indiana Jones, don't you think???)

*sigh* Fine. I guess if I can't discover them myself, I'm glad they found them so the Anastasia foolishness can finally end (It was Marie, dumbass. Vertebrae don't lie.) and they can all be laid to rest together.

More KidNation crap. Now, I'm not a mom, but I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't sign anything saying that the fruit of my womb could be harmed, screwed, and killed all for a TV show.

Even if it meant I would be invited to CBS events with all the CSI stars. No, really.

Well played, Luciana Bozan Barroso Damon. I love Matt Damon. So hard. Not in the way I love Johnny Depp or even George Clooney (we'd get along fine if he'd just keep his damn mouth shut), but I would totally marry him and have him donate some "killer DNA to my womb", as the girls on gofugyourself.com so astutely put it.

Oh honey, no. Alan. Darling. Do you know what I put up with for you??? The ribbing, the jokes, the "Oh, you wouldn't like him, you're weird? Why do you insist on continuing to make this difficult for me?!?!?!?

Gah. The things I'll do for love.

I have a burrito from Qdoba. I go to eat it.

Adventures in Staff-Picking

So I walked into work this morning. I was on time, which is about five to ten minutes earlier than I prefer to be when I open, because there is precisely nothing required to open a bookstore. (This could be why our morning meetings are like half an hour long, and today included "Yeah, this is the new book by this woman, she used to do Navy SEALS," "She did Navy SEALS? Really?" and "I'd like to go to storytime..." as well as I think maybe some sales numbers, but they were lost in the shuffle.)

I usually kill the first half hour hiding in the history section salivating over all the Alison!Weir!Goodness! or organizing the stuffed animals in the kids section by character. God knows what would happen if Big Bird and Elmo weren't in the same bin, across from Dora the Explorer, completely separate from Spongebob!

Le anyhoodles, today I am assaulted practically at the door by Pam, in a tizzy because they need to redo the staff picks selections.

Otherwise known as, The Corner With All of Kathleen's Books. Perhaps because I'm disarmingly sweet, or I read a lot, or I'm really good at bullshit (Debutante Divorcee? Sucked majorly, but you wouldn't know it!!!), Pam recruits me for staff picks pretty much every day I work. I don't really mind, but this led to the inevitable "Hmm. What shall I review today???"

I read such a variety of stuff, from chick lit fluff to Russian tomes, and I always struggle to choose.

See, part of me wants to pick a popular book and just be all annoyingly mainstream.

But another part of me wants to be all "No, you will read Bleak House and you will like it, dammit!!! Don't make me pull out my Tolstoy! You want fun? I've got 1300 pages of French Revolution for you courtesy of Mr. Hugo! How's that for summer reading!" *ahem*

I compromised and picked The Kitchen Boy, Girl Sleuth, and The Other Boleyn Girl. Kind of a mix.

So if you're in the neighborhood, please stop by and check them out. Of course, you'd have to know my entire name, because we have to use different names on each one to make it look like more employees are participating.

Good thing I have two middle names.

Things Today That Suck

I'm actually having a kind of good day. Went book shopping with Mommy, found a St. Ives clay mask that's supposed to firm my skin, got all my vacuuming done. All good things. There are some things that are bugging me, though.

1. Money

2. Textbooks

3. No textbooks. Even though the class is starting in a matter of days.

4. Cars that leak and have standing water in the back.

5. Crazy confusing bank statements that need to be figured out prior to buying (or not buying) textbooks. Refund from Qdoba wtf? I know I'm a good customer but...

6. Real estate developers.Yes, today I am all-encompassing in my hate.

7. The stairmaster that broke, forcing my brother to run up and down the basement stairs over and over and over again Rocky-style until I'm ready to wait at the top and shove him down. Kidding. Maybe.

8. Crazy mothers.

9. Crazy boyfriends.

10. Not being able to tell if your best friend is being plagued mostly by a crazy mother or a crazy boyfriend.

11. Having to drive an hour one way in order to pick up said best friend to find out the answer to #10.

12. The logistical impossibility of #11 due to #4.

13. Pharmacy technicians not being able to give me Advil without the care of the absent pharamacist.. Um. It's not *actually* meth yet. If I could figure out how to turn Advil Cold and Sinus into meth do you think I'd be a history major shopping at Target??? I have a headache. And I'm here with my $7.99 wanting Advil. Why do you have to wait for a pharmacist to give it to me???

14. No one donating books while I'm working at the register. *woe*

15. $40 for season one of Ugly Betty? WTF?

16. Running out of garbage bags fifteen minutes after I got home from the second trip to Target in one day.

*le sigh*

But all is okay, now, because I have another lolcat.

Thoughts on The Invasion

Just so you know, if Jeremy Northam ever wants to force me to the ground and projectile vomit all over my face in an effort to turn me to an alien?

I'm down with that.

Especially if Daniel Craig can watch.

Also? Nicole Kidman is a stupid whore who doesn't deserve to be a woman. You dump MY Mr. Knightly and are friends without benefits with Bond??? You disgust me.