Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Only Happy When It Rains

I like lists and I like music!

Here's how it works:
1. Put your music on shuffle. (Yes, it's one of those)
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!

Let's go Spod! (Spod=Sarah pod. Because I hate saying ipod.)

1) IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY? You Found Me (Kelly Clarkson). Well aren't I cheesy as hell. Or really creepy. Hard to tell really.

2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY? When You Sleep (Cake). I don't think I'm boring. Maybe it means that I'm like a dream! Yeah, I'm reaching, aren't I?

3) WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY? Simple Kind Of Love (Maroon Five). Well who wants complicated? Simple is good.

4) HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? Sassafras Roots (Green Day). I guess...I did move to "The South" recently.

5) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE? I'm A Long Way From Home (Shooter Jennings). Indeed, Spod. Indeed.

6) WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? I'm A Believer (The Monkees). I'm pretty much the opposite. Unless it means that I believe in science. SCIENCE!

7) WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU? Wonderboy (Tenacious D). Yes, I will vanquish your foes with a mighty sword. Why do you ask?

8) WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN? A Praise Chorus (Jimmy Eat World). I did watch Sunrise Earth this morning...

9) WHAT IS 2+2? Santeria (Sublime). Well duh. You have two chickens, and then hey presto! Two more chickens! Sort of...

10) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND? Aish Tamid (Matisyahu). Way to go Spod! Bust out the Hebrew song for my Jewish BFF. Good job.

11) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Sonata in F Minor-Allego (Beethoven) Awww, how sweet! Non-classical song: Rockapella (The Brown Derbies) Oh...kay? I definitely like the classical one better.

12) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY? So Like A Rose (Garbage). Yes, it's true. I am hauntingly pretty and I will cut you. For real.

13) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? Stabbing Shadows (Cake). I do try to bring the crazy.

14) WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE? All The Photographs (Sea and Cake). He does take an absurd amount of photographs...

15) WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU? The Sun (Maroon Five). Yeah, they're pretty proud of me. Because I'm awesome.

16)WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING? Sweetest Goodbye (Maroon Five). Because that's not fucked up at all. Yup. Totally appropriate wedding song.

17) WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? Easy Living (Billie Holiday). I like it. Nice and sad, but also sort of hopeful.

18) WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST? Two Coins (Dispatch). I do have a habit of picking up coins. Mama does it too. We both seem to find coins everywhere we go.

19) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET? Luchenback Texas (Waylon Jennings Willie Nelson). Alright fine. I like country music. There. I said it. I especially like old school country.

20) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS? Dolphin (Poe). Dolphins are happy and social. It fits.

21) WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN? Incinerate (The Sonic Youth). I do live in constant fear of being set on fire.

22) HOW WILL YOU DIE? Never (The Cure). That's awesome. I'm INVINCIBLE! Hell yes!

23) WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET? Island of the Honest Man (Hot Hot Heat). I got nothing.

24) WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH? Scarlet Begonias (Sublime). My cats used to play in the giant begonia bush in my front yard. I'll take it.

25) WHAT MAKES YOU CRY? I'll Be-Acoustic (Edwin McCain). Unrequited love is sad. :(

26) WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED? Popstars (Rooney). And just what do you mean by that, Spod?

27) WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST? Daylight Robbery (Imogen Heap). People are getting shot left and right out here. Not good times.

28) DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU? Just What I Needed (The Brown Derbies). Oh, the Spod is being sarcastic today. Funny. You little mah-chine. I could crush you...

29) IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE? When You Love Someone (Bryan Adams). You're right, I would change the fact that I ever put Bryan Adams on the Spod.

30) WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW? New Deep (John Mayer). (Ok, ok, I take it back. I won't crush you. Just stop embarrassing me.)

31) WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS? Only Happy When It Rains (Garbage). Interestingly, already a post title.

32) HOW DOES THE WORLD SEE YOU? Clockwatching (Jason Mraz). I do tend to fidget. And I like to be on time.

33)WILL I HAVE A HAPPY LIFE? Water Music, Suite in D Major, Alla hornpipe (Handel). So, yes. Sweet. Non-classical version: Hide Your Love Away (Dispatch and Howie Day cover) On the other hand, not so much.

34)WHAT DO MY FRIENDS REALLY THINK OF ME? Wake Me Up When September Ends (Green Day). So...they think I need a Xanax?

35) DO PEOPLE SECRETLY LUST AFTER ME? You've Got A Friend (James Taylor). HAH!

36) HOW CAN I MAKE MYSELF HAPPY? Wolf Like Me (TV On The Radio). I should join a pack? Or kill people? I'll take option two.

37)WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH MY LIFE? Evil (Interpol). Check!

38) WILL I EVER HAVE CHILDREN? Platypus (I Hate You) (Green Day). Well, yes. I don't care for kids so much.

39) WHAT IS SOME GOOD ADVICE FOR ME? Bleed Black (A.F.I.). But I don't want to be a vampire!

40) HOW WILL I BE REMEMBERED? Solitude (Billie Holiday). Well that's just great.

41) WHAT IS MY SIGNATURE DANCING SONG? I Wanna Sex You Up (Color Me Bad). I have been know to bust a move to some 80s/90s pop. Ain't nothing wrong with that.

42)WHAT DO I THINK IS MY CURRENT SIGNATURE SONG? If You Only Knew (Maroon Five). Apparently the Spod is being secretive. Please? Pretty please?

43) WHAT DOES EVERYONE THINK MY SONG IS? Cry (James Blunt). Way harsh, Spod. Waaaay harsh.

44) WHAT TYPE OF MEN DO YOU LIKE? Romeo (Sublime). Yes, please kill yourself.

45) WHAT IS MY DAY GOING TO BE LIKE? On The Wagon (Green Day). This right after I had a conversation with my coworker about getting some eggnog to put my rum in.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Netflix Adventures

How it all started.

This week: Heathers


First impression: wicked and funny and disturbing
Will I watch it again: I think I have to

I had heard a lot about this movie, and I had some idea that it was pretty fucked up. But I had no idea just how fuck up it really is. Or how much I would laugh. I do have a morbid sense of humor, so it was sort of a given that I would enjoy it. There were part of it that I don't really get, for lack of a better phrase. For instance, Veronica bounces back and forth from being insightful and ashamed of her actions to oblivious and not as good of a person as she claims to be. She is indignant that Heather #1 "forces" her to write a note to The Fat Girl that will make it seem like The Football Star wants to have sex with her. Granted, this situation is uncomfortable and mean, but no one is physically hurt. I'm not saying that non-physical hurts are less significant, just hear me out. Later, after agreeing to go on a double date with Heather #2, the four of them (Heather, Veronica and the two football players) end up in a field tipping cows. Well, the guys are anyway. After said cow-tipping, Veronica is fending off the drunken flirtation of her football guy when Christian Slater (I don't remember the characters name) shows up to take her away. While Veronica and Christian Slater are talking, in the background Heather is on the ground with her football player on top of her. Heather is trying vainly to push him away, while he alternately grabs her face and kisses her and hold down her arms. With this scene playing out behind her, Veronica takes off.
It's that type of action that makes Veronica just a little bit hard to believe as a character. She is self-righteous when the Heathers are taking advantage of someone, yet when one of the Heathers is being taken advantage of, Veronica doesn't give a shit.
It also bothered me that Veronica was sort of stupid. She had this sort of tra-la-la everything is going to be fine now attitude, in spite of everything getting worse with each death. When she finally figures out how to beat Christian Slater at his own game, she doesn't even prepare! She just wanders around the school looking for him. Yeah, yeah, she had a gun. As with all confront-the-evil-mastermind-and-foil-his-dastardly-plot scenes, he easily took her gun away. After a brief fight, she got it back and saved the day. I'm pretty sure that scene had been done.
I'm probably giving the impression that I dislike this movie, but that's not the case. I did really like it and I do want to watch it again to catch some background things I'm sure I missed. These are just my nitpicks with the movie. Or the character.
As a final note, I would like to mention that I was incredibly distracted by how Christian Slater sounds exactly like Jack Nicholson. They need to do a father/son movie. Seriously.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Netflix Adventures

As a result of my new Netflix account, I have decided that I am going to watch all of those great movies that everyone loves, but no one I know has actually seen. This series will be about my reactions to these movies, whether or not I liked them, and why. Please feel free to suggest movies for me to add to my queue.

This week: Some Like it Hot

First impression: Such a fun movie


Will I watch it again: Absolutely


I had never seen Marilyn Monroe in a movie before (remember the whole point of this adventure) and I was impressed by what a great actress she really was. After watching her steal every single scene she was in from other fantastic actors, I can completely understand why the entire nation was captivated by her. She was unbelievably sexy, in the truest sense of the word. Not the way it is commonly used now, to denote anything even slightly good. I mean that her every movement made you think about sex. At the same time, there was something about her that was very vulnerable and made me feel like I wanted to take care of her, be her friend, and help her out. She managed to contain that dichotomy without ever seeming insincere. No wonder she remains such an icon.

As far as the rest of the movie, I was thoroughly entertained by it. Even though it was fairly predictable, I was never bored. It probably helps that I love a good slapstick; Arsenic and Old Lace is one of my favorite movies. I love kooky. When I was younger, I made my family watch Noises Off! over and over until they could quote it verbatim.

Monday, December 8, 2008

The Candy Idiots Strike Again

ARGH! I hate everyone and everything right now! I just unwrapped a nice little candy cane and stuck it in my mouth, only to be taste-slapped with strawberry. When will the madness end? What, in the name of all that is good and holy, is wrong with candy makers? If it looks like mint, it should taste like goddamn mint!

Netflix Adventures

So I finally joined the Netflix bandwagon, and I must say that it is better than I thought it would be. My only quibble is that it is difficult to move the movies around in my queue. I want to drag-and-drop them, but I can't, and when I type in the line number that I want it to go to, it ends up a few lines above or below where I want it, so I have to move it again. Unless I am retarded, which is always a possibility. Let me know.
As a result of my new Netflix account, I have decided that I am going to watch all of those great movies that everyone loves, but no one I know has actually seen. This series will be about my reactions to these movies, whether or not I liked them, and why. Please feel free to suggest movies for me to add to my queue. The only limitation I will place on suggestions is: do not even bother suggesting scary movies. Of any kind. I am including Hitchcock in this category. I know, I know, this is sacrilege or whatever. I don't care. I do not enjoy scary movies and I will have nightmares for at least a week. I had nightmares after being forced to watch the third Resident Evil movie. And that one was stupid and predictable. The only scary movie that didn't give me nightmares was High Tension, but that was because it was so incredibly stupid and nonsensical that it just pissed me off. So I was too angry to be scared. Ok, moving on. This first installment will cover the three movies I have seen so far, future installments should be just one movie.
First up, Casablanca.

First impression: enjoyable
Will I watch it again: probably not
I typically don't like film noir, so I was a little surprised that I was sucked into this story so quickly. I think it helped that there were not that many shots where someone was lingering in a shadow looking contemplative for five minutes without any action or dialogue. The pace of the movie was good, alternating between fast and slow. I wasn't really surprised by any of the plot twists, but that isn't something that I need for a movie to be good. Ricardo watched this one with me, but since he wasn't able to keep his trap shut and just watch it, I don't think that he will be joining me again. I can understand him needing clarification about the setting of the movie, since his world history is not that great, but I have to draw that line at him announcing "This girl is so stupid. She doesn't know about life." Which may be true, but keep it to yourself. One thing that he and I both agreed on is that people in general were more attractive back then than they are now.
Next up: Breakfast at Tiffany's

First impression: LOVED IT!
Will I watch it again: definitely
I absolutely adored this movie. The life that Lula Mae made up for herself, the shades of her past that you could always see just under the surface of everything that Holly Golightly did, the extravagance, the austerity, the clothes. I sincerely have nothing bad to say about this movie. It made me miss a time I have never experienced and it made me smile and laugh and cry.
And third, A Streetcar Named Desire

First impression: Marlon Brando was HOT! My goodness...(fans self)

Will I watch it again: not likely, or at least it will be on mute and fast forwarded when Stanley is not on screen

I have some mixed feelings about this movie. I was annoyed by Blanche, mesmerized by Stanley, and I constantly forgot about Stella when she wasn't on the screen. I also had a hard time understanding what was going on. There were tons of ambiguous statements and significant looks, but nothing was ever brought out in the open to my satisfaction. I'm still not sure what happened. Which is probably how I am supposed to feel, but I still don't like it much.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Juxtaposition

I have some very contradictory values, which I somehow place equal importance on in my own personal morality. For instance, I think that individual rights are extremely important, but at the same time I think that killing one person in order to save many others is perfectly acceptable. Freedom of expression, to me, is the essence of humanity. At the same time, I often say that people who say stupid or irrational things should be hit with sticks. I think that abortion is a highly personal, individual choice that the government has no business regulating, but I also think that there should be restrictions on who is allowed to have children. I value rational and critical thinking above all else, yet I regularly make decisions based on intuition and impulse. I think that prejudice is irrational and inexcusable, but I believe that your appearance is important and frequently make fun of how people are dressed. I also do not dress that well myself. I am cognizant of the manipulation techniques of advertising, yet I buy a lot of name brand items even though the generic version is cheaper. I think that the amount of attention paid to idiotic celebrities is disgusting, but I frequent gossip websites and stay updated on the state of Heidi and Spencer's relationship and Britney Spears's mental health. I think that Dr. Phil gives psychology a bad name, yet I find myself watching his show.
How is it possible to have completely opposite beliefs at the same time? How do I contain these contradictions in my mind without them cancelling each other out? I can't even rationalize a way to hold these opposing beliefs at the same time. Maybe the sum of a person's personality is made up of their contradictions.

Friday, November 21, 2008

It's Not A Tumor!

A few years ago, during my Senior year of college, I found a lump on the back of my head, in this general area:
It didn't hurt at all, and was sort of squishy and a little mobile. A little while after I first noticed it, I went to the eye doctor to have a eye exam done. I have terrible vision, so I get an eye exam about once a year to make sure that my prescription is accurate. I mentioned the lump for some reason of other to the eye doctor, who promptly told me that there was a good chance that it was a tumor and set me up on a series of tests to determine if the tumor was affecting my optic nerve. The most disturbing part of the whole thing was that she basically talked about the possibility that I had a brain tumor in the same manner that another person would discuss the weather.
Most of the tests that I had done that day were inconclusive, so I went to Student Health to talk to an actual doctor. I explained to her how long the lump had been there and the eye doctor's concern that it was a tumor. The doctor proceeded to feel my lump and "hmm" to herself. After a few minutes of this, she told me that she wanted another doctor to consult with her about it. She brought in another doctor, and the two of them stood over me, prodding the lump on the back of my head and saying, "I don't know, what do you think it is?" I was not amused.
The first doctor set up an appointment for an MRI for me, which I was not too excited about, since being in enclosed places freaks me right the hell out. As my friends know, I am uncomfortable if I can't see the door. Pamala always let's me choose where I want to sit at restaurants, one of the many reasons why I love her. But I digress. So, I went and submitted myself to an MRI of my head, which was one of the least fun things I have ever done. For those of you who have never had an MRI, it is loud, which is enough to freak you out even if you don't care about a giant machine suspended a mere inch above your nose.
The results of my MRI? Inconclusive. But they were able to rule out it being a tumor, so that was an improvement. But I still had a mystery lump on my head. The next candidate for what it could be was a blocked blood vessel, so I was set up for an ultrasound on my lump.
By this time my wonderful roommates were doing all they could to make the situation funny. There were jokes about my brain trying to escape, alien pods, and super powers. They even named my lump Noam. I was taking a linguistics class at that time. I'm sure that about two people who read this will get that joke.
So I went to have my ultrasound, which involved a bunch of very cold goo in my hair and the technician going, "Hhmmmm...I don't seem to be seeing anything here..." for about half an hour. They were able to determine that I did not have a blocked blood vessel. However, no one was ever able to figure out what it actually was. It magically disappeared a few weeks later.

Now it's back. It seems to be different this time. For one thing, it is painful, even when I am not poking at it. It also seems to be two small lumps that are very close together. At least, it hurts in two distinct places on the lump. One part on the bottom, and another part on the top left. The bottom is much more painful than the top.
All I have to say about this is what the fuck!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Number Four Has A Secret

One of the biggest events in Santa Barbara is Halloween. The area adjacent to UCSB campus, Isla Vista (I.V. to locals) transforms into a six-block-long, three-street-wide, contiguous outdoor party. There are mounted police. The horses wear riot gear. It is, in a word, intense. And incredibly fun.

The year that we lived with Number Four we learned that she had never dressed up for Halloween past the age of ten or so (again, crazy mom). Since I had already been exposed to the horrors contained in her closet, I knew there was a gold mine in there for a classic "Fashion Victim" costume. I had her go throw on a bunch of random clothes and then did her hair and makeup. The results were fairly spectacular, but sort of...off course from the original goal.

Here, take a look:


The most common statement we heard about this costume was, "That is an awesome girl costume!" As in, they thought it was a guy, dressed up as a girl...yeah...

We sort of had a conspiracy theory about Number Four. For a long time we suspected that she was a hermaphrodite, or possibly transgendered. Did I mention that we are also kind of horrible people? The thing is, we had quite a bit of evidence. That photo is Exhibit One, if you will. There was also the fact that she told us she had to start taking birth control to induce her period, which was a rather strange thing to share with people she had only moved in with a week prior. Or to share at all, really. That seems to me like the kind of thing you keep to yourself.

Further evidence was that she never really seemed to enjoy the greatness that was The Mens Room. The Mens Room was Pamala and Number Four's bathroom. Since we only had one shower in the apartment, their bathroom consisted of a toilet in a room. By itself. Just a toilet. Weird, right? So we completely plastered the walls with pictures of hot men that we cut out of magazines. It was a very elaborate construction; there were little scenes throughout the room. I have no idea how there are no pictures of this, but alas, there are none. What can I say, sometimes college makes you dumb. But anyway, Pamala, Orly and I would constantly add to The Mens Room, but never once did Number Four clip out a picture of a hot man from a magazine. I'm not sure how that contributes to the Number-Four-is-a-hermaphrodite theory, but it does.

Another piece of pseudo-evidence was her mismatched brothers. Like you would expect, she had a weird brother (he of the sweet-potato-pie incident). But she also had a completely normal brother. Not the kind of guy I would personally be friends with, as he seemed more like the frat brother kind of guy, but far more normal than you would suspect. Also, her weird brother was not weird like she was, he was actually just normal-weird. The kind of weird that you are comfortable with. Sort of...late-bloomer, band-geek, video-gaming kind of weird. How is this evidence, you ask? Well, it is a bit of a stretch, but stay with me. It goes like this: if Number Four had two brothers, both relatively normal, then it stands to reason that she should fall within that same spectrum of relative normality. But that was not the case. So something must have been very different about Number Four that set her so far apart from her brothers. Add to that the fact that she was just, well, mannish, and presto! You have our Number Four is a Hermaphrodite Conspiracy Theory. It also fits in with her batshit crazy mom (yes, I'm going to continue to string that one out).

In closing, I leave you with this:



Monday, November 10, 2008

Mumbo, Jumbo, get me some EGGS!

I don't have anything in particular to write about, other than I am incredibly unmotivated to work today. Big surprise, right?
I just read my November horoscope on astrologyzone.com, and check this out:
Saturn will remind you that there are family members who deeply love you and depend on you. You are a towering figure to your family, and you shape their very lives and their futures, and by that I mean both the very young and the very old in your family.
How creepy is that? Not to mention, no pressure! And then it gets even better, describing how December is basically going to suck hard for me. Yay.
Other than that, I am not doing a whole lot. I'm on the prowl for a decent looking couch that won't clash with my randomly orange fireplace and dark cherry floor. I'm thinking purple might just do the trick. And where does one go for a purple couch you ask? Ikea, naturally.
I got an email from Mama's aunt who lives in Tallahassee today, inviting me and Richardo out there for Thanksgiving. And just like that, Richardo will now be in daily use. I'm trying to decide between Richard-o and Rich-ardo for the pronunciation. I'm leaning toward the latter. It makes me giggle more.
What else...Oh, I've been watching all the past seasons of How I Met Your Mother, and I am horribly and pathetically sad that the characters on that show a) are not real and b) are not my actual friends. At the end of the gag reel on season two, they all sit at their table and sing the theme song and it made me tear up! This is on top of having a dream wherein Barney was my friend. I officially have problems.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Goosebumps


I am so proud of my country right now. I can't stop smiling!

Monday, November 3, 2008

Hello, Hello

I am finally finished with my monster project at work, so I can now return to the important things in life, like posting about the freakish weather in Florida. Because holy hell people! One week it is in the nineties, the next week it's raining and in the seventies, then it's in the fifties and windy and below freezing at night, and now this week it's back to raining and in the seventies. I never know what kind of clothes to put on in the morning! At least now we have daylight savings time, so I am no longer trying to get ready for work before the sun is up. There is something very difficult about that for me, psychologically.
Anyway. I've been living in Florida for just over a month now, and so far I like it. It's hard not having anyone I can randomly call up and do things with, but I can usually drag Ricardo with me. But that brings up my question: how do you make friends in a new town when you are not in some sort of school situation? My coworkers are all older than me, married, and have young children, so they are not exactly friend-material. Should I be going out to bars and meeting people? I feel like that would get very awkward very quickly. Another part of this problem is that I don't really know how to approach women. Wow, that sounds weird. Ok, I know how to make friends with guys. Guys are easy. How do you make friends with women when there is not a built in situation for continued exposure?

Monday, October 27, 2008

Stay Tuned

I should be back to posting regularly at the end of this week. I hope.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

(You're No) Friend Of Mine

I haven't ever posted anything really political on this blog, mainly because I am not that interested in politics and political shenanigans. I don't like to write about stuff that bores me. I'm not funny if I'm bored with the subject, and I like to be funny.

However.

Yesterday a friend of mine, whom I normally consider intelligent and logical, said that he supports Sarah Palin. I'm a little dumbfounded by this. I've been thinking about this every since, and I've come to the conclusion that he is either a) not the person I thought he was, or b) not listening to a word she says.

For anyone to agree with such rampant hypocrisy is mind boggling to me. How can anyone listen to a her expound on the effectiveness of abstinence-only education when there is living, breathing proof of its inadequacy standing two feet to her left? For the record, I could give a rat's ass that her seventeen year old daughter is pregnant. Obviously it is not an ideal situation. In and of itself, not political in the slightest. But Palin made it political by shoving her agenda in our faces with her daughter standing next to her putting lie to her every statement. Abstinence-only education simply does not work. I bet if someone told Bristol that she could have prevented this pregnancy by simply taking a pill or having her boyfriend wear a condom, she would break into hysterics. I know I would. Her entire view on women's rights is an antiquated agenda, which includes such gems as forcing rape victims to pay for their own "rape kits" in order to gather evidence against their attackers, wanting to overturn Roe v. Wade, even in the case of rape or incest, and cutting funding for single mothers (who shouldn't have gotten pregnant in the first place, never mind if they were raped. Obviously they deserved it.).

Beyond the domestic sphere, her views on foreign policy are, literally, terrifying. In an interview with Charlie Gibson, she demonstrated that she clearly has no idea what the Bush Doctrine is. The Bush Doctrine states that the United States should depose foreign regimes that represented a threat to the security of the United States, even if that threat was not immediate. What this boils down to is that we have the right of anticipatory self-defense, that we have the right to a preemptive strike against any other country that we think is going to attack us. Pretty simple concept.

In that same interview, Sarah Palin also said, "that is the agreement when you are a NATO ally, is if another country is attacked, you're going to be expected to be called upon and help. And we've got to keep an eye on Russia. For Russia to have exerted such pressure in terms of invading a smaller democratic country, unprovoked, is unacceptable." (Russia's "exertion of pressure" was not unprovoked, by the way. Russia and Georgia fought a five-day war in August when Russian troops poured into South Ossetia to repel an attack by Tbilisi's forces.) So let's review. If Georgia were a member of NATO, and Russia responded to military action with military action, the US would be expected to go to war with Russia. Russia. They have nuclear weapons. Just thought I'd remind you, in case you forgot about the Cold War.

How about this: does the Bush Doctrine only apply to the US? Are we the only nation allowed to defend itself with a preemptive strike? What if Dmitry Medvedev likes the way Bush thinks?

It is entirely possible that, were Sarah Palin to get into the White House, she could say something that would represent a threat to Russia, especially considering that she already has. If Russia were to perceive a threat, according to the Bush Doctrine, it would be perfectly reasonable for them to attack the US.

And my friend wants to vote for all of this?

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Time In A Bottle(neck)

I am moving across the entire continent in three and a half days.

I'm mostly excited, with a touch of nervous. I'm mainly nervous about the trip itself, not about actually living in Jacksonville. I think I will really enjoy living there. I'm particularly excited about being able to afford an apartment bigger than my office, with a backyard to boot! I got a cute 1950s duplex with two bedrooms, a fireplace, and a washer and dryer. Very exciting!

I don't have much else to talk about, since we aren't actually leaving until Saturday. I have almost no furniture in my apartment, which is a nice change from having it filled up with boxes. For a while we had a one foot wide pathway from room to room. The movers came to take everything last week, and now we just have things to sell/donate, and we are set. I feel like I still have so much time, but I totally don't. Three days is not much time, especially when we still need to clean everything. And I need to go to at least two happy hours. Speaking of which, I need to go set up Thursday night...

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Too Much Food On My Plate

To Do:
  1. Finish packing
  2. Send rent check
  3. Turn on electricity and cable at new apartment
  4. Make E-vite for my last weekend in California
  5. Call movers with questions
  6. Finish 2 1/2 projects at work by tomorrow
  7. Sell Abe
  8. Deal with the movers next Tuesday
  9. Get at least halfway through three other projects at work
  10. Finish a bunch of administrative stuff for my replacement for my old job
  11. Finalize our route across the country
  12. Do at least three things that I can't remember right now
  13. Leave California on September 20 at the crack of dawn

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Coast To Coast

I'm not entirely sure where to start this post, so I guess I'll just dive right in.
On September 20th-ish, I'm moving across the country to Florida. Crazy, right? Here's how that came about. The company I work for has locations all over the place. I applied for a job at the Jacksonville, Florida business unit, and I got the job. Which is awesome, since it's in a new department and I got a raise. But now I have to live in Florida, the state where much of the nation's more amusing stupid criminal stories originate. Plus, hurricanes.
But then again, no earthquakes.
Everything still feels mildly surreal, and September seems like forever from now, even though it is only seven weeks away. I've been looking for an apartment, but not really applying anywhere. That mostly has to do with my sucky credit, which I've made serious progress on these past few months. I've gone from "high-risk" to "medium-risk", but it's still not pretty.
The thing that has suddenly made everything seem very real is that there is a person coming to look at my car today and potentially buy it from me. I posted an ad for it two days ago, thinking that it would take a while to sell a Ford Escort, even if it's in good condition, but I got an almost immediate response. So now I'm trying to figure out how Ricardo and I would work around having only one car for over a month. Fun times.
We also need to go through everything in storage and get rid of stuff. That is mainly going to be Ricardo's job, since he literally has giant bags of clothing in there. I don't get it either.
Another pressing matter is figuring out if it will be feasible to get married before moving to Florida. Obviously, it would be nice to get married in Santa Barbara, since more people would be able to attend. But we don't really have traditional views on marriage in the first place, and it's not at the top of the Shit We Need To Do Before We Move list. And as easy as it would be to hit Vegas on our way, I'm pretty sure that several people would crucify me. So I feel a list-making session coming on. Even if is it physically possible, it still might not be financially. Well, okay, actually getting married would be easy. It the rest of it that would be costly and take planning. Even for the small-scale "wedding" I want, which basically ends up just being a reception, but more cocktail party-esque. Ugh, I just don't even want to think about it.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

More Than Words

Oh HELL yes, there is going to be Rock of Love 3!

http://blog.vh1.com/2008-07-16/rock-of-love-3-its-onwith-bret/?source=hp_blog

Oh sweet baby Jesus, they're going to film it on a tour bus.

Did they say...Truck Stop Olympics?!?!?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Ooh, shiny...

My cat totally watches tv with me.


Not even Animal Planet. We were watching So You Think You Can Dance? She watched almost half of it, but then one of the couples danced a really boring routine and she lost interest.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Sunshine (Come On Ladies)

Last weekend most of the girls I've lived with came to Santa Barbara for our semi-annual Roommate Reunion. It was a blast. After people arrived, we headed down to our favorite Italian place for lunch and stuffed ourselves on garlic rolls. Mmmm, garlic...Then we headed back to Pamala's at a very leisurely pace, stopping at the store for provisions. The evening was spent drinking Mai Tais and scheduling cooking around the power outages, thanks to the raging forest fire about fifteen miles away. We managed to grill it up though, and had a feast. We tried to play a board game (how exciting are we?), we even set it up, but no one could focus long enough to understand the rules. We ate and spent many hours talking. More on that later.
Saturday we breakfasted and then went wine tasting for a few hours. We saw an amazing white trash couple while we were drinking too. They both had long super-frizzy hair, the guy even had bangs! He wore the requisite faded, torn-up and stained jeans, while she wore short short jean shorts that had been rolled up so as to be even shorter than they were intended to be. But the best part was her "shirt". She was actually wearing a bandanna tied around her chest! I had never seen that in real life before, and I grew up in a town where people lived in tents in trailer parks! They were made for each other, I tell you. After wine tasting we had a quick lunch and went and lounged at the beach. Two of the ladies took the Longest Walk on the Beach EVER, and when they finally came back to the rest of us, who were huddled together and shivering, we went back home to change and head out to dinner.
Dinner was at a new restaurant for us, which has subsequently been removed from the list of acceptable places to eat. Our waitress may have been legitimately retarded, and later that night three or four of us didn't feel well at all. After dinner, we ended up at Tonic, per usual. Pamala's boyfriend (she actually called him that yesterday!) Chris and his pals showed up, and Ricardo joined us later. When we first arrived, we quickly noticed one lady in particular, as she was rather difficult to miss. She was a somewhat larger person, wearing an unfortunate white tube top dress that came to just past right there. She was even more unfortunately attempting to pole dance and give a lap dance to a couch. We shook our heads at the rampant lack of self awareness and went about our business. There was dancing and laughing and drinking and going outside because it was too hot. One of the times I went back inside was a shocker though. I wandered a bit until I saw one of my girls, who then ran over to me and said, "Oh my God, the crazy girl hit Emily in the head!" Apparently the erstwhile amateur pole dancer had taken offense at Emily for no discernible reason. Tube Top was shuffling through the crowd when she spotted Emily and suddenly changed her trajectory. Tube Top gained momentum and launched herself up and punched Emily in the side of the head, which is amazing in and of itself, since Tube Top was about five three and Emily is about five nine or ten. There was much restraining on both sides, Tube Top was kicked out, and Emily was taken outside to cool down. She was totally fine, if a bit confused and shaken up. The rest of the night was uneventful, and the next day we said our goodbyes until our next event.
I love those girls.

Monday, June 23, 2008

England (Part I)

After I left Galway at 6:00 in the morning, I traveled by bus all the way across Ireland back to Dublin. I think I got to Dublin at about 4:00 PM. It was the longest bus ride of my life. Then I hopped on the ferry and rode across the Irish Sea over to Wales. This was the only point in all my voyages that I was ever in Wales. It became a running joke between my friends and I. We would be discussing weekend trip plans, and someone would suggest Wales. Then there would be a pause. Then someone else would say, "Let's go to Italy." Then the joke became "Let's go to Wales." "No one goes to Wales!" Maybe you had to be there. Where was I? Right, in the ferry. So I got off the ferry in Wales, and interestingly did not have to go through any sort of customs-type area. So I don't have a stamp in my passport for the first time I entered Great Britain. Wacky.

So here's where things got really fun. I couldn't check into my summer session in Brighton until the next day, and it was about 6:00 or 7:00 PM and I was in Wales. All two of the hostels anywhere near the station I was in were completely full. Maybe it was even as late as 8:00 PM. I ended up catching the last train out of Wales to London. When I arrived in London, it was to Euston Station, which is ghetto as hell. Like, creepy ghetto. So I took a bus over to Victoria Station, which is where I needed to go to get a train to Brighton anyway. This whole thing was way more dramatic at the time. I was constantly on the phone with Mama, and we were both freaking each other out about where I was and what I was doing. As usual, she was much more freaked out than me. So anyway. I took a double-decker bus across London.

I'm glad that the first time I did that it was dark out or I may have had a panic attack. So I got to Victoria Station at I don't even know what time. Late. Very very late. Or early, depending on how you view time. I asked around and discovered that there were not many hostels in Brighton, and the chances of me finding a bed in one at that hour were exactly zero. As far as staying somewhere in London, the only places with vacancies were fancy hotels, which I couldn't even begin to afford. So I reluctantly came to the conclusion that I was stuck at the train station until the next morning. After traveling alone for two weeks already, I wasn't too fazed about sleeping on train station chairs. Then I had a bit of a rude awakening. It turns out that Victoria Station has a huge problem with vagrants, so they kick everyone who is not getting on a train right now out of the station at night. So I spent my first night in London here:

(Obviously we went back later to document the place) There were lots of other folks out there with me, stuck in the same situation, and there was a guard monitoring the gate literally three feet away from me. But still. Major suckage. The entire city of London becomes a wind tunnel at like 3:00 AM. It was freezing cold. I kept pulling various articles of clothing out of my backpack and putting them on. Finally it was morning and time to get on yet another train, this time to Brighton. It may have had something to do with sleep deprivation, but I was not paying attention to the stops for the train. Instead of getting off at the station that is literally across the street from Sussex University (where I had summer session), I took the train all the way into Brighton itself. Then I had to take about three buses back to the university, and I still ended up walking a long, long way. Finally, after over twenty-four hours of straight traveling, I arrived at Sussex University and my very own flat:

I nearly wept with joy.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Ireland (Part I)

I finally got my Picasa Web Albums fully uploaded and current, so now I can start on a new series I've been itching to write: Places I've Been.
I'm starting with the oldest pictures I have and working my way forward in time. Basically my plan to to stick a few photos in a post and write whatever that photo triggers in my memory. This should be interesting since a lot of my pictures have associated memories like "That's a tree." and "We were somewhere. It was pretty. I took this picture."

Up first: Ireland!


This is one of the first pictures I took in Ireland, if not the first. It's a little hard to see, but in the window above the door is the word "Elsinore", which is the name of the town I grew up in. It's also a really cool door. I've always liked the idea of colorful doors.


I'm usually not a big cross person, but this one really caught my eye. I was in St. Patrick's Cathedral, and most of the other crosses were very elaborate, making the elegant simplicity of this one all the more striking.


The stained glass was equally phenomenal. It was very hard to photograph though, since any amount of flash would make it disappear. My hands shake, so holding the no-flash camera steady enough to get a decent picture was a painstaking endeavor.


This is the floor of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Again, really hard to photograph. But also so very awesome. Which I guess is what you want in a church, right?


"Braaaaaaaaiiiiinnnnssssssss..." Saint Patrick's gonna git you! Aaaannnd I'm going to hell...


Did I mention that it's huge? You can also see more of the floor in this shot. I love how the area where the two sections cross (whatever it's called) is completely lit up compared to the rest of the church. I think I had managed to go on a weekday afternoon, so it was very uncrowded. That definitely helped maintain the hushed sense of awe that such a large elaborate space creates.


Moving on to more fun things. The Brazen Head is supposedly the oldest pub in Dublin. It is certainly the most expensive. I still had a pint there though. The story I patchily remember is that some woman stuck her head out of the window to yell at someone when something fell on her head. She was completely fine, so they said her head must have been made of bronze, hence brazen.

A significant portion of my trip through Ireland went like this:


Ireland is pretty. And green. Very, very green.


Very pretty. Very green.

Hey, look! A castle!

Rinse, repeat.

Cutest hostel ever, right? I ended up there completely on accident too. I was trying to go from Dublin to Kenmare and after I got off the train in Killarney I discovered that I had missed the last bus to Kenmare. So I had to find a place to stay. The hostel closest to the bus station was full, but they pointed me to this one. I loved Killarney and this hostel so much the I ended up staying there for four days and going back three or four times. The town itself is tiny, about five streets total, plus some narrow alleys. Killarney boasts the highest pub count for a town in Ireland. Those five streets contain somewhere between 85 and 100 pubs, depending on your source. I tend to believe it, since most of the shops either contained a pub, were above a pub, or were next to a pub. You can see why I kept coming back.

The hostel was also run by this crazy Polish man who jumped off of the top bunk after changing the sheets and yelled "Batman!" I don't have a picture of the interior, but it was fantastic. You can see a tiny bit of it in the above picture. Stone floors, huge beams in the ceiling that had all manner of crap hanging off of them, walls plastered with photographs, and huge tables. Oh, and this cracked-out chessboard. See how many non-traditional pieces you can find:

It was good times at that hostel. The next hostel was not so good times.

This was the road to the hostel in Cork that I stayed in when I went to visit Blarney Castle. Cork sucks. The only reason to go to Cork is if you hate yourself or you are going to Blarney but you can't pay for a fancy-shmancy hotel in Blarney itself.

Blarney Castle. Waaaaaaaay up at the top of that tower (No, the other tower. The tall one. Yeah, up there.) is the Blarney Stone. I'm not going to tell you the history of the Stone or why you are supposed to kiss it. Go wikipedia it. I will tell you that it ain't easy.

Told you so. There were grandmas doing it! I don't have problems with heights, and I had to close my eyes.

After kissing the Blarney Stone, I went back to Killarney to take a driving tour of the Dingle Peninsula, which juts out of the west coast of Ireland. (Heh, Dingle...Hi, I'm an eight year old boy.) It's also very pretty, in a more severe sort of way. It looks like this:



The story behind this picture is that some Irish folk hero (Cuchulain? Finn MacCool? Wait, aren't those the same guy?) who was a giant is sleeping off the coast, waiting for something or other to wake him up. Hence the name of this island, The Sleeping Giant.

This pony was near my hostel in Doolin. He was nice. I petted him. Doolin is a tiny town (only three pubs!) that is the closest place to the Cliff of Moher, one of the most photographed places on the planet.

Understandably so. They are I don't know how tall and absolutely breathtaking.

One of the many amazing things that happened to me on this trip were the fires in Doolin. Once every summer, each town piles a bunch of stuff up and lights it on fire. My theory is that this is a relic from Beltane fires. I just happened to be in Doolin the night that the fires were lit. In addition to our fire, I could see other fires along the river into the distance.

My trip to Galway consisted of: Hey look, there's Galway! The next morning I awoke at 5:00 AM to embark on the longest and most miserable bit of traveling I've ever done.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Itchy and Scratchy Show

I went to the allergist this morning for the first time ever. I've had vague allergies pretty much all of my life; itchy eyes, runny nose, sneezing, what have you. But my brother had much more severe, even life-threatening allergies as a child, so we were a bit more focused on that than on my sneezing fits, even though they are a thing to behold. It's a family trait. My dad has actually knocked himself unconscious by sneezing. I have so far managed to avoid that, but I do startle people on a regular basis.
Anyway.
The way an allergy test works is they have these disk that have needles that each have something that you might be allergic to on them. Four of these disks full of little needles are pressed into the skin of your back. Good times. Then whatever you have a reaction to indicates an allergy. There are cases where it is hard to tell if you are having a reaction or not. In those cases, they take a syringe and inject whatever you are having a borderline reaction deeper into your skin. Better times.
I am allergic to:
1. Dust mites (both varieties)
These little fuckers eat dead skin cells and live inside your mattress and pillows! How gross is that?

2. Cockroaches (no, seriously) EEEEEWWWWWWWWW!!! I kept asking the doctor, "Seriously? Cockroaches?" He assured me that it's true.

3. Cats
Like my darling kitteh Singe here. Sad.

4. Dogs. Also sad. I love dogs.

5. Yellow dock (some sort of weed)


Which grows all over the place. Yay.

5. Coastal sagebrush

Where do I live again? Oh yeah, in Santa Barbara. ON THE COAST.


So basically I am screwed. I have lots of drugs now though. There were a few things that I was surprised that I am not allergic to at all: trees, molds, or grasses of any kind. Crazy.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Angry Blondie

The other day my dad said something to me that I've been unable to stop thinking about. He insinuated that I should be grateful to him for not providing anything for me while I was growing up and while I was struggling through college, taking a full class load and working at whatever job I could find. I should be grateful for that because I had to work hard for what I have and therefore I value it more. Which is true, I do value what I worked my ass off to achieve. But you know who absolutely does not get to take credit for that? The man who refused to pay any child support while I was growing up because he spent all of his money on whatever drugs he could get his hands on.
Yes, I had a hard life, like a lot of other people. And I am stronger for it. I know this. But I will be damned if he somehow makes himself out to be a good father because I didn't end up pregnant at seventeen or stung out on meth like half of my high school. If there is one thing that he absolutely is not, it is a good father. I can hear him now, protesting that he did his best and he loves me more than I know and things like that. To which I say, so what. I guess trying his best involved drinking himself into oblivion and getting high whenever he had the chance. Not to mention managing to not show up for any significant event I wished he'd gone to, or ever coming through with things that he promised. Which probably has a lot to do with me not knowing how much he loves me, since I never saw a trace of it.
"But he's still your father," you say? Well I say again, so what. Just because he and my mom had sex and oops here I am, that means that I am obliged to forgive every one of his shortcomings with a shrug and say "But he's doing his best..."? I do not agree. I owe him exactly nothing. Whatever time and energy he spends trying to convince himself that his monumental failure as a parent was actually better for me so that he can assuage his own guilt, will be exactly that. His time and energy. I am done being so angry that I can't see straight. I am done letting someone have such a huge negative impact on my life.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Fuckin' Right!

The Blog-O-Cuss Meter - Do you cuss a lot in your blog or website?

Get yours.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

I Love...

the first sip of coffee in the morning
the smell of eucalyptus trees in the summer
buying the perfect pair of shoes
getting dressed up for something that is not really that fancy
the first tingle of spicy food
falling asleep reading a book in the middle of a lazy summer afternoon
the smell of used book stores and libraries
gulping down ice cold milk
looking at crazy things people sell on craigslist
putting together really hard jigsaw puzzles
watching trashy reality shows with Pamala
hearing waves crashing on the beach as I fall asleep
discovering a new beautiful part of Santa Barbara
playing with my cat
the smell of night blooming jasmine
changing into my pajamas right after I get home from work
laughing so hard that my face starts to hurt
looking at pictures of my friends and family
how cute my apartment looks
the feel of freshly washed sheets
collecting sand dollars on the beach in Mexico with Mama
magnolia trees in bloom
dreaming up cockamamie schemes with friends
taking extra long hot showers
chapstick
the smell of sunscreen
sleeping in until noon
the way sour candy makes the back of my tongue feel
burning candles and incense just because they smell good
rocking out to one of my favorite songs
curling up in front of a fire after taking a shower and letting the fire dry my hair
eating barbecued beef ribs with my Dad's special sauce
walking barefoot on the beach
earthquakes, as long as they are minor
drinking fresh lemonade
the smell of wet concrete when it is blazing hot outside
when soap bubbles float in the air while I am washing dishes
eating ice cream when it is raining
when the smell of a campfire lingers in my hair
hearing church bells ringing from a distance
standing on the edge of something very tall
crossing something off of my To Do list
thunderstorms and counting the seconds between the lightning and the thunder
singing in the car
inside jokes that are still funny years later even though no one remembers what they were about anymore (water over there...)
sharing juicy office gossip
understanding what someone is thinking with just a look
getting a foot rub without asking for one
buying someone the perfect present
watching old movies over and over and reading old books over and over
sharing a comfortable silence
getting really excited
knowing random facts and spouting them to others
dancing in my living room with Ricardo
avocados
making other people laugh
learning something new and useful
watching young animals of any kind play
eating ripe juicy strawberries
when a song I really love pops up on my ipod on shuffle
cracking my knuckles, ankles, wrists, back, neck, and various other joints
freshly brewed iced tea
staying up really late talking to someone
picking nail polish off of my fingernails
having a clock ticking softly in my bedroom and counting the ticks as I fall asleep
sunlight filling up a room
finding a really good red wine
reliving my childhood by coloring with crayons and markers
eating sunflower seeds and salted peanuts
getting a phone call or email from someone I haven't talked to in a long time

Monday, March 31, 2008

Strange Days Are Here Again

I have previously documented the strange goings-on that occur during my lunches, and today that theme was continued loudly and proudly. Today, as I was driving to get my lunch, there was a man standing on the corner with a giant sign. His sign was covered in mostly illegible, small writing.
However.
In the middle of his sign, in giant letters, it said, "YOU NEED THERAPY!"
But that is not even the best part. What could be better you ask? The fact that he was wearing this:
With this kicky hat:

This town continues to bring the crazy awesome.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

I Got A Man And A Plan

Tomorrow we are finally going to move the rest of the stuff from Ventura up here, including my sofa, hooray! No more cramming two to three people in a chair that is just shy of being a love seat. Now as soon as my bookshelf gets here, I can put away all the clutter and we will have an actual home. If my bookshelf would ever ship from wherever UPS is holding it hostage, that is. Overstock.com told me that it would leave their warehouse in 1-3 business days, and I should receive it within 5-10 business days from the day I order. So, I have two more days before I can fill out the "Where the hell is my shit?" form. Great. I would be way less concerned if the UPS page showed more than "billing information received". Sigh.

In other news, Ricardo and I picked a year in which to get married. We're planning for the summer of 2010, which will be smack dab in the middle of law school for me, so that should be all kinds of fun. Even more fun is that I have no idea what I want as far as wedding stuff. I never really thought about it. So I bought some magazines and did some researching. It turns out that most places need to be reserved about 18 months out. But here is where I am running into entirely self-created stress. I will be applying for law school at the end of this year, and that means that I will not know where I'm going until about April of next year. Then law school will start next August. So I will have from April-ish 2009 until Whatever Day We Ultimately Pick to plan everything, or about 12 months. Which may seem like a long time, but when you consider that I will be in fucking law school for those 12 months, you can begin to understand why I want to start planning things now, even though I kind of can't. The type of wedding we have will ultimately depend on where we end up living. If I end up in LA or San Diego, that is vastly different from San Francisco or Oregon. Different venues, different colors, everything would be somewhat different. And I am not really liking the idea of planning two simultaneous weddings...

As far as the inevitable question "Why don't you wait until you finish law school?", there are a few answers. The shallow answer is that when I finish law school I will be thirty (!), and I'd like to get married before then. The deeper answer is that this is a compromise between me, who would rather wait, and Ricardo, who would just a soon go to Vegas tomorrow. And keep in mind that the next question is "Why don't you get married before law school?" So the ultimate answer is that the reason we picked 2010 is that it is a good balance of time that is acceptable to both of us. I don't really give a crap if it is acceptable to anyone else or not.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Soundtrack Of My Life

Pamala sent me this fun diversion a while ago, and I have sort of become obsessed with it. Here's what you do:

Put your itunes on shuffle and answer the questions/topics below with the name of the song. No skipping songs! Those songs are the soundtrack to your life.

Ok I need to make one addendum. I have a lot of Classical music on my ipod, so I am going to skip those. While they could be great for a soundtrack, it just isn't as much fun.

Here we go!

Opening Credit-Can't Cry These Tears by Garbage. This is a very tone-setting song. She's talking about trying to find love but it's nowhere and she is sick of looking and over it and she's done crying.

Waking Up-Let It Die by Feist. Wow what a sad song to wake up to. But I guess it could be interpreted as waking up to the reality of a relationship being over.

First Day of School-Het by The Pixies. An all around awesome song.

In Love-Basket Case by Green Day. An oddly appropriate song. I have great memories of this song, including one time when myself and a stranger yelled the lyrics across an apartment complex to each other in call and response fashion. Good times indeed.

Fight Song-Out Of My Mind by James Blunt. Oh come on. Am I fighting in slow motion here? Lame. I am a much better fighter than this.

Breaking Up-Shiver by Maroon 5. This is one of the more appropriate song on this list. It's about a hellish relationship. Not really about breaking up though, so maybe not all that appropriate after all.

Prom-I Loves You, Porgy by Billie Holiday. All together now-Aaaaaawwwwwwww...

Life-Black On Black by Heart. One of the greatest bands ever. This song is so awesome. Probably my favorite Heart song. I am rocking out over here.

Mental Breakdown-Let It Roll by Train. Yes, I have Train on my ipod. And it is not nearly the most embarrassing thing I have either. As far as appropriateness, it is marginal for a mental breakdown.

Driving-Anywhere You Go by The Gin Blossoms. How great is that? A song about following someone for driving to.

Flashback-Wrong Turn by Jack Johnson. A very "meh" song. Which could be appropriate, since I don't really have flashbacks, since I don't have a lot of memories to flashback to. If that makes sense.

Birth of Child-I Melt With You (cover) by Jason Mraz. A completely inappropriate song. Holy crap.

Final Battle-Now At Last by Feist. Eh, not really that great. I mean, I love Feist and all, but this song is about finding love and is all mushy. Not great for battling your foes.

Death Scene-Stranded by Heart. Yay Heart! And I guess this song works. Kind of. If someone else is dying maybe? Ok fine, it totally doesn't. But I still love Heart.

Funeral Song-Nugget by Cake. Ohhhhhhh-kaaaaaayyyy...I don't know how well a song where the chorus is "Shut the fuck up, learn to buck up" would go over at a funeral.

End Credit-Killing Floor by Howling Wolf. A nice rousing blues tune to yell out weird names to your friends to. I'm ok with this song.

Overall, this was not the best mix that I've done. I'm tempted to do it over, but I will resist. Oh, and for there record, there actually weren't any Classical songs that popped up, so this is completely accurate.

Monday, March 10, 2008

Happy Happy Joy Joy

So we finally got our cable set up this weekend, and after Ricardo spent three hours centering the screen of the tv, which, to be fair, is 46 inches, and requires a lot of finagling, I can tell you that DVR is the greatest invention ever! I'm recording things left and right. I am in televisual heaven. Interesting program on National Geographic about what will happen after we all die, but, oh no, it's on at 11 pm? Bam, record that shit and watch it when I want. Rock of Love marathon on VH1? Got it! Awesome.
Now I have to go procure a storage unit today, so we can move all the stuff that we want, but not necessarily right now, out of the apartment, and then I will be truly happy. Our living room is a disaster still, boxes stacked all over the place, some of them half unpacked and random things all over the damn place. I can't even look at it anymore. I tried to start going through some boxes yesterday, but I got so overwhelmed that I had to go lie down. There's just no place to put anything. I ordered out kitchen/dining table on Friday, and it should get here sometime this week. I hope. It's so purty:

Right? I can't wait for it to get here. No more milk crates for me! Now I just need a big bookshelf and about 70% of the clutter will have a home. But, of course, now that I actually want to buy a bookshelf, the only ones on craigslist are crappy ones. What happened to all the awesome ones that I used to see when I was browsing? Work with me people!

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Gearing Up

My favorite holiday is coming up this month, and I am in a bit of a quandary. St. Patrick's Day, that holiest day of drunken dogma, will require more than just the typical beer consuming endeavor. In general, I have a hard time consuming enough beer to get me seriously tanked, so I need to get my wee little hands on something with a nice high alcohol content. But, I still have quality and taste standards that must be met. So, let's break it down:

The obvious first choice of Guinness does have a lot going for it. Somehow, Guinness only contains 198 calories per imperial pint (20 fl oz UK), fewer than an equal-sized serving of skimmed milk or orange juice and most other non-light beers. However, imported Guinness tastes nothing like Guinness in Ireland, which makes me very sad when I drink it. Plus, there is the matter of being able to consume enough of it. In spite of not containing that many calories, it is a very filling drink, but it does have a slightly higher than average abv, at 7%. I am on the fence about Guinness.
In general, I am not a fan of lager. On a warm summer day, a nice cold Harp can be refreshing, but there are other summertime beers that I enjoy much more, mostly of the Mexican variety (hello Modelo...). Also, when I drink lager, I end up going to the restroom about every five minutes, which pretty much negates the meager 5% abv that Harp has to offer. Harp is officially out.
I tried Smithwick's a few times in Ireland and England, and largely I found it to be more on the bitter side than I prefer for an ale, but that could be only in comparison to the smooth and delicious Guinness that was available at the time. However, I haven't tried it as an import yet. It only clocks in at 4.5% abv, which makes it officially out. Sorry Smithwick's, maybe another time.
This is a cream ale that is brewed by Smithwick's, and it is reportedly even more bitter. And the abv is 4.3%, the lowest abv on the list, making this one right out.

God, do I love a good red ale. I am drooling over this photo right now. It doesn't help that I am also starving. I would kill for a glass or Murphy's and a giant pile of mashed potatoes, with a side of soda bread right now.
I just made the horrifying discovery that there is no Wikipedia entry for Murphy's. I don't know what to dooooooo... It does only have an abv of 5%. This site I found rated Irish red ales, and the following was the highest rated beer:

It's got a higher abv than Murphy's, at 5.9%, which certainly makes it more appealing. I am very curious to try this one, but it may be very difficult to acquire. We shall see.

Of course, there is always the alternative: