You know that part in “Princess Bride” where the albino coughs out “the depths of despaaaaair”? That line has been in my head all day. That and “some I murder, some I let go.” At least the second line can be sung, and it helps to have music… in something… somewhere…

The depths of despair. I’m in them.

And then there’s this nonsense for when you need the world to make just a little less sense

1) Does this face look like the face of any woman you’ve ever known two months after giving birth (nsfw)?

2) Do these arms look like the arms of any woman you’ve ever known in any capacity ever?

3) This body. How is this body… existing? Where’s the justice? I know these people have all the time and money in the world and can just skip out on being normal people and devote countless hours and dollars to improving their appearance and I shouldn’t get too upset about it when it’s not really a level playing field.

But I can’t help it!

This just makes me angry. It makes me furious. It makes me want to scream and throw things! I hate this. And as much as I hate to say it, I’m really beginning to hate her, too. To hate all of them. Every last one.

I know I know– they’re “nice people,” “friendly,” “so down to earth for Hollywood,” blah blah blah. At this point: I Do. Not. Care. The world isn’t Hollywood. Stop teaching us to strive for and value only those things which are Un-real and not of ultimate importance anyway. Stop dangling unattainable perfection in front of us at every corner , all the while forcing the implication that it is not only possible but also necessary.

Boy I tell ya’– if that town burns down I will mourn the loss of the classic nostalgia pieces, and laugh with joy that the seat of this industry is in chaos. I know I know– I have friends who make their living off of this industry in different ways. But what they do isn’t “Hollywood.” It isn’t this nonsense. They make art, not “Naked Teenage Cheerleader Exhibitionist Lingerie Models Being Attacked by Equally Naked Lesbian Vampires With A Penchant for Busting Hip Hop Moves Before Attacking.” My friends don’t need Hollywood.

But then, with the direction things are going there: Who really does anymore?

The problem I have with being fed such a constant diet of people/images like this one of Alba, this one of Fox to the right (this is her after being instructed to gain 10 lbs…) is that it’s like– Okay. It’s like this:

It’s like eating strawberry flavored candy that has 10 x the strawberry taste of the real thing. You still like natural strawberries (especially if you can dress them up with sugar or chocolate or whipped cream…), but after a while even as good as they are they’re just not sweet enough to quench this desire you’ve cultivated for that intense, ultra-sweet, strawberry flavor. The candy contains traces of the real thing, sure. But it’s all so processed and there’s so much added to it that a real piece of fruit just doesn’t have, that you really can’t compare the two.

But that’s what happens with this glut of these people/images always before us. There’s so much that you can add into these people’s lives that you just can’t have with regular people- the heaps of sugar and the Red No. 3. But when we’re fed such a constant, steady diet of the way they are, the way they behave, look, dress, talk– we think it’s attainable because they’re human and we’re human and we’re told we’re all equal so… But the similarities end there. We *can’t* be like them. Men are told to want them, women are taught to want to be them. But it’s impossible.

I’m afraid I will never be loved for being a real strawberry. For something else I “really” am? Sure. But for being a real strawberry? Seems less likely every time another celebrity bounces back post-partum.

And I feel bad for every last person who can’t enjoy real strawberries any more, because I know they’re still good, no matter how sweet (eye)candy can be.

Enough already. Enough empty shaking of fists. It’s just a front, isn’t it? Isn’t it always.

You know what the problem really is? The problem really is that I want things in my life to start working, and my greatest fear is that everything that isn’t working, that everything that’s falling apart is falling apart because of me. Because of something I’ve done. Or something I’ve neglected to do. Like everything’s crashing and it’s all my fault. My big, fat, lazy, selfish, narcissistic, stupid, guilty fault.


ETA: I’ve gotten a surprising amount of feedback on what was intended to just be a nice, blow-off-loads-of-steam little rant, but most of it in the form of private messages from guys ‘n’ gals of all ages and backgrounds on Facebook so I’m the only one getting to enjoy the incredibly beautiful, hope-inspiring, and utterly refreshing sentiments these little notes contain. But to each of you who’s voiced their opinions on these topics- you guys rock, and it should be little wonder why I call you each a friend. :)

“Feelin’ HOT HOT HOT! That’s all I know so far…”

Let’s start with the awesome news: I PAID OFF A BIG CHUNK OF MY CREDIT CARD TODAY!!

Technically I’m paying off that big chunk tomorrow, but I made the deposit today which will enable me to pay off that big chunk tomorrow. *meh* Tomayto-Tomahto.

Stayed home sick today. Better than yesterday, but still just… :P My mom came by around noon to keep me company. She brought chicken noodle soup, which we shared before playing two games of UpWords. She beat me both times. Who beats their kid? Their sick kid? Twice?!

I went on Craig’s List while she was here to look for ferret cages and found an awesome one for only $20 bucks! Some family’s moving and they had this old cage they hadn’t used in years so they priced it to sell since they just have zero use for it anymore.

It’s 3’w x 2.5’h x 1.5’d, really sturdy, has two latched openings on the front, and three shelf levels.

It’s like a ferret mansion.

I am stoked.

My future ferret(s), wherever (s)he is, is no doubt also stoked.

My mom came with me to pick up the cage and when we got to this family’s house they had a shitsu named Oreo- who looked just like my mom’s dog Patches- and when we walked up the driveway she came right up to me and when I knelt down by her she started nuzzling me and trying to climb up in my lap! So cute! And the cage was great. So woo. $20 well spent.

After we got back to the house mom ‘n’ I had spagetti-o’s (you know how we do) and then she took off back to the adventure that is Home.

I’m watching Disc 2 of Season Two of “The Office.” How does this show not get old for me?

“Once you’ve danced naked at a hash bonfire with the spirits of the dead, all parties seem pretty much the same.” Ahh Creed. And for a great how-to guide to making your own pruno, check out this page at Black Table.

I’m so uncomfortable watching these scenes where Pam and Karen are all friendly with each other. Karen’s nice and funny, but her selling point is that, well, she’s not like Pam.

I am.

I just don’t answer phones. And God help me: I don’t ever want to answer phones again.

It’s not the phone answering that bothers me. Surprised? (Shame on you. You should’ve seen this coming.) It’s the fact that, well it’s just a drag– all these little reminders of how much cooler these things are which just so happen to be my opposites.

I’m happy being Pam. *does cartwheels to prove happiness*And I have lots of friends who are also Pams, and know lots of people who really like Pams, so I’m not sitting here all forlorn and mopey. It just– man, after a while it just… Hm.

The thing is: You don’t have to be slammed to feel bad. Sometimes just hearing everything you’re not be constantly and loudly praised for the things that make them opposite is enough.

Stupid Maxim. And television. And hot, scantily clad Olympians

Poor crying Pam. If I get a boy ferret maybe I’ll name him Dwight.

While I was on Craig’s List earlier I checked out the Missed Connections page. Those silly radio guys. Oh so silly! anyway- the top one for Men Seeking Women in Milwaukee was this one:

Subject: You: pregnant, hot, and needing me – m4w – 30

Body: I like your round belly. Makes me want to slap yo baby. Let daddy have a little slappy lappy. Watch out baby. You do the baby rub a dub dance, I chase you, and slap a lap a. MmmMMmmMMmm.

Oh my Lord. I am never getting pregnant in this town.

“May I help you with anything else, Mr. P’jones?”

I’m watching the special features on Galaxy Quest (hooray library DVDs!) and the supporting cast is full of surprises.

Rainn Wilson is in it as one of the tag-along aliens, ‘cept he has maybe two lines in the whole thing (aside from a few that only made it as far as the deleted scenes), as is Dian Bachar of all things Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Then there’s Justin Long as a nerdy kid who helps save the day, and Corbin Bleu portraying one of the main characters when he was a kid (no joke: have they lightened his skin for all those High School Musical movies?).

Next up: Guess Who with Bernie Mac and Ashton Kutcher. Watch it tonight? Save it for tomorrow? Still debating.

Is it still only Monday? No- it’s Tuesday. Right? Is it Tuesday. I’m not kidding: I literally have no idea when I am right now. None.

Calendar check: It’s tuesday. And Tuesday means: Just put in the second movie and stop all this back and forth.

Ooh. A preview for Rent. Good good goody. >:| We’re off to a great start…

I’m still trying to decide on a layout for this blog. I’ve found a few I like, but they all auto-insert widgets I don’t want and I don’t know how to get rid of them, or I want them but don’t know how to move them around.

How do I make ten thousand dollars by the end of the month?

Not that I am in some kind of desperate situation and in need of an immediate $10K so please don’t start emailing me asking what disaster has befallen me! It would just be awesome to have $10K in the next 20 days. Heck- I’d even settle for half that. See? I’m reasonable.

In other news: The picture to the right? What is this: Attila the Gyllenhaal? Jake the Hun?

For some reason this image makes me feel absurdly uncomfortable on so. many. levels.

What the crap is this all about anyway? Are they filming a warrior flick or vacationing? And how is it that he looks like a 3rd century eastern European mountain man and she looks like an underpaid baby-sitter in the Hamptons?

ETA: Apparently I was so totally right in my line of questioning about Jake G. Are any of us surprised? I should think not!


Lyrics from “New Math” by Bo Burnham, a 17 year old boy whose gift for clever lyrics reminds me of a combination of Jason Powell and Rick Katschke for some reason.

And no, I do not mean to imply by omission that that “reason” is pedophilia (see below).

In conclusion, watch the video. Or don’t. But it’s kinda funny. So you should.

Um… How ’bout we just get back to the part where I provide a copy of some of the lyrics…

“Havin’ sex is like quadratic expansion
if it can’t be split then it’s time to stop,
and havin’ sex is like doing fractions,
it’s improper for the larger one to be on top,
and havin’ sex is like math homework,
i do it best when i’m alone in my bed.
and squarin’ numbers are just like women,
if they’re under thirteen just do them in your head….”

Ahh… Good times.

Rehearsal for “Wait Until Dark” is going well. I’m off book for my first scene… basically… and pretty comfortable with my lines for most of the rest of the show. It’ll be good to finally get that book out of my hands so I can put more of my focus on maneuvering through the set. I’d like to try running the show blondfolded a few times so I can… Did I just write “blondfolded“??


Yes. Yes that’s what I want to be. Blondfolded.

Yours truly,

Porphyria’s Lover

Goodnight everybody! You’ve been wonderful! (Exit, pursued by a bear)

ETA: WAIT!! I almost forgot about the two pictures I wanted to post! Egad! DISASTER WAS NEARLY UPON US!

The first is a screen shot of an ad that appeared in my Yahoo account yesterday.

I believe the implication is that the rockin’ hot awesome left ass cheek/thigh area is somehow not as rockin’ hot and awesome as the ass cheek/thigh area on the right.

Are any of my straight male or lesbian readers understanding this better than I am?

And do you even see the “dimples” they’re referring to? It looks like maybe she brushed quickly against an end table in need of a bit of dusting, but is that– is that cellulite?

If this stuff will make my legs look like EITHER of the legs in this picture, I will pay so much money for it RIGHT NOW.

I– I’m still kinda scratchin’ my head on this one, folks. I’ll get back to you if I figure out what they’re getting at here.

The next picture is just something I thought was kinda funny.

I was looking up a last name on Facebook when i found two guys in a row with the same exact name (and it’s an unusual-ish last name), both from the UK, and both facing the same direction and drinking a beer in their user pics.

“You are not special.

You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake.

You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.”

Tyler Durden

Okay. Now I’m ready to go.

Waukesha Flood Pictures

Before putting together the video from the last entry I had to get my editing stuff together, and I realized as I did so that I pretty much do the same stuff every time I sit down to edit videos, so I figured I’d make a video of how I make videos.

:P *plbbbbbbbt*

I got all that together intending to do work on video footage I got today of the flooding in Waukesha, but it was kind of a daunting task what with all the video I took, and the one with Bekah and Patches just needed a title page and a quick fade, so I ditched the harder one in favor of the Bekah/Patches one. *meh* What can I say- I’m lazy. And those two girls are just so darn cute!

I’ve moved on to “Kon-Tiki” and will start on the flood videos later, but for now, a few pictures from my walk through Waukesha this afternoon…

[Image 1 of 4] The blue line indicates how far the edge of the river generally reaches if the water is very high in the Spring time.

The red line indicates where the path leads under the bridge.

There’s generally clearance of about 8′ at that point (currently only about 1.5 ft), allowing you to walk comfortably beneath the bridge, yet to still be close enough to the underside of it for taller walking companions to threaten you with loosened, and therefore angered, spiders from the bridge webs.


And this is nothing. The water is so high that at the next bridge down the river there is NO clearance whatsoever. I stood with a woman and her two daughters as we watched a fallen tree wrestle its way under the zero clearance bridge and out the other side. Pretty crazy…

[Image 2 of 4] All of the walkways in the area are completely submersed.

Submersed? Submerged?

Anyway… The water in the picture to the right– can you see how far down that black railing reaches? There’s still more to it; it finishes a few feet farther down below the water. This is one of the sidewalks that lines the river. This *is* the River Walk.

Scary to think all the gross trash that’s going to be dredged up and left behind on these walkways when the water finally recedes. :P

I was actually just down on this particular riverwalk on Friday night with friends and I remember marveling at all of the leaves and sticks and things that had been left behind on it from previous storms the week before. Negligible now. :S

[Image 3 of 4] The red line indicates how much farther down the stairs go beneath the water.

The blue line indicates how far the river generally reaches when there’s the usual amount of high river swelling.

(The structure on the dry land above the flooding is the downtown Waukesha bus terminal stop, and just beyond that is Fave Local Townie Bar.)

[Image 4 of 4] And you know those three bear statues down near the river?

Well the bears finally got their wish: they’re playing deep in the river!

I *think* I’ve circled where the middle bear is. The water is so deep right now that it’s almost completely covered. Sometimes a current will adjust just so and you can catch a glimpse of the top of it’s shoulders, but that’s about it.

As for the other two- *grins*- best fishing they’ve ever had!

I love those statues. They’re actually the reason I wanted to go down there today to get pictures. Kurt Magoon posted some in his Flickr stream, taken at a point in the flooding when you could still actually see the bears, and I just *had* to get down there to see them for myself.

Best part of the river today. :)

“Chinese *was* my cheap suggestion.”

“Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.”
Elbert Hubbard

“No matter how cynical you get, it is impossible to keep up.”
Lily Tomlin

The Profit Motive Behind The Sexualization Of ‘Tween Girls

… “A lot of very sexual products are being marketed to very young kids,” said Gigi Durham, author of The Lolita Effect. “I’m criticizing the unhealthy and damaging representations of girls’ sexuality, and how the media present girls’ sexuality in a way that’s tied to their profit motives. The body ideals presented in the media are virtually impossible to attain, but girls don’t always realize that, and they’ll buy an awful lot of products to try to achieve those bodies. There’s endless consumerism built around that.” …

In the book, Durham identifies five myths of sexuality and provides advice and resources for caring adults who want to discuss the issue with young girls.

The myths are:

— If you’ve got it, flaunt it. Bare a “Barbie body” as often as you can. But don’t celebrate or enjoy any other body type. “It’s really excluding a lot of girls from enjoying and recognizing pleasure in their own bodies,” Durham said.

— Anatomy of a sex goddess. “Media reinforce a ridiculous ideal of being both extremely thin and voluptuous — a body not found in nature,” Durham said. “You have to go through borderline starvation and plastic surgery to get it.”

— Pretty babies. Representations of sexual girls are getting younger and younger. Many of the images presented as the most sexually desirable are images of girls as young as 11 or 12. “It’s problematic in many ways: It encourages sexualization of girls too young to make good decisions about sex. It legitimizes the idea that young girls should be looked at as sexual partners. And, presenting pre-pubescent bodies as the sexual ideal pressures grown women to achieve the body of a child who hasn’t even matured yet,” Durham said.

— Sexual violence is hot. Media aimed at children — like PG-13 “slasher” movies — convey the message that violence is sexy or that sex should be violent.

— Girls don’t choose boys; boys choose girls — and only hot girls. Women and girls are supposed to focus on pleasing men. But little emphasis is placed on women taking pleasure in their own sexuality or bodies, or on guys striving to please gals, Durham said. “It’s a very one-way construction of sex.”

“The book definitely isn’t anti-sex,” Durham said. “It starts with the recognition that girls are sexual — everybody’s sexual — but that girls deserve good information that will help them make good decisions. We have the highest rate of teen pregnancy in the industrialized world, and a study by the Centers for Disease Control just reported that 1 in 4 teen girls in the U.S. has an STD. Clearly we’re not giving them the kind of information they need to take care of themselves sexually and transition to adulthood in safe ways.” …


I’m writing a Craig’s List ad and let me tell ya’: It sucks. If I never put another letter between tags it’ll be too freakin’ soon.

Also: I wish I wasn’t already done with my spagetti-o’s and my Diet Mt. Dew, ’cause lemme tell ya– that was one tasty dinner. I could almost go for another can of Dew. Mmmmm… Diet Mt. Dew…

I’m a big girl. I have my own apartment. I have my own car. I pay my own bills. I am “I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T. Do you know what that means?

It means, foo’s, that I can have another can of Diet Mt. Dew if I want one.

I’m catching up on this season’s episodes of “The Office” and having. a. blast. The episode I’m watching now is the one where Michael gets called in to Jan’s deposition about her termination and everyone is given a copy of Michael’s personal diary. I *heart* Toby.



Never mind. I don’t know if I really feel like a Diet Mt. Dew any more. Or– wait… Shoot. Deciding things is hard. :S

I wish I worked at Dunder Miflin. Or some place like Dunder Miflin. I wish there was a Dunder Miflin Milwaukee branch. I’d apply.

Pat Morita: Elevator Dancer

I’m watching Thoroughly Modern Millie and it’s the scene where Millie and Jimmy are out on the ledge of the building and whenever the guy leans too far forward he starts to become invisible. How did they green screen these things back then? Or– well it was blue then, no? How did they do it with the technology of the day? I mean, fake as it looks, I’m still pretty impressed with what they were able to do considering it was 1967.

I forgot how much I enjoy this movie. I saw it once when I was much much younger and I forgot how fun it is. I know it can be a bit hammy, but I like the little looks Julie Andrews gives to the camera before the text pops up, and the subplot of stealing away the girls from the hotel, and EVERY scene with Carol Channing. Particularly any scene in which she overcomes attacking aggressors with her voice and a few jazz moves. :D And oh God this fellow playing playing Trevor Graydon— what a square jawed, dull as a boxa, pipe-smokin’, piece of blow gun dart bait. Too too funny! He belongs in a Dover boys cartoon. ;)

Fun as it is, though, mayhaps there are a few too many plots.

Still– we get to see “Chinamen” (one of whom is Pat Morita!) tap dancing in an elevator. And when is that not a lark?

Boy Mary Tyler Moore sure has a lot of wrinkles in her face to be playing such a young character… I find it hard to believe she was only 31 when this was made, actually. I mean– she’s aged extremely well, but really: the wrinkles in her face in this thing… I’ve nothing against wrinkles but these are surprising!


One of our vendors gave us four free tickets to the opening day game tomorrow at Miller Park– Brewers/Giants.

E.E. took two and gave them to his wife and one of her girlfriends, and I got the other two and am taking my mother. They’re fourth row seats in a suite above the press box right behind home plate. Nice, eh? And a free parking pass, and a guest pass into the Metavante club.

Whoa. I just looked up the club online and there’s a $25 per person fee if you don’t cancel your reservations with more than a three hour notice. What the heck kinda fancy pants place am I taking us to?


I was checking my Yahoo email and the ad to the left came up.

*tsk tsk tsk*

This girl clearly wants to be me.

That scarf? I have it; it’s from Target.

Blonde hair? My hair is blonde.

Vision? I can see.

*tsk tsk tsk*

What a poser.


A director of mine called me yesterday to see if I was available to baby-sit his kids tomorrow night. Such great kids. I sat them once before and the 8(?) year old daughter had softball practice and so the 6(?) year old son and I played on the playground at the park. He showed me his dance, which I taped with my camera to show to him, and we just generally had a really great time. And then one of the coaches came over to tell me the daughter was throwing up. Just what a baby sitter wants to be told. :S

I carried her on my back about a quarter of a mile back to the minivan (with a broken odometer; just what a baby sitter wants to see) and took them home for pizza and about an hour of playing pretend before watching cartoons in the parents’ bed until they got home.

It’s kids like theirs that make me want to have kids of my own some day. They’re just great, fun kids who get along with their folks and each other and who are always up for a game of make believe. Just what a baby sitter wants to hear. :)


Now I’m watching Nicholas Nickelby. I’m on Part 2. Some really excellent performances in this. The good people aren’t totally annoying and whiny, and the bad people aren’t totally one-sided and obnoxious.

Well, except the mother. She’s obnoxious. And an absolute twit.

I’m catching up on so many movies, and I like that. But this is really a pathetic way to spend my evenings. I come home, put away a few things, make myself a sandwich or something, set up my computer on the ottoman, and pop in a flick. I’ll watch two, maybe three movies a night depending on how long or depressing any of them might be. Then I hop in the shower, then I get into bed with Alfred and a book and read until midnight or 1, and then go to sleep ’til 7. Get up, go to work, start the whole process over again.

“The process” needs to be something that’s a better use of my free time, and “Alfred” needs to be a dude.


May hit the sack early tonight. I plan on going crazy with my mother tomorrow. She’s one of my best friends you know. I sure do love that woman. My God am I blessed.

“My shrink ran off to Europe, and didn’t even write…”

“A satirist is a man who discovers unpleasant things about himself and then says them about other people.”
Peter McArthur

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”
Douglas Adams


One of the guys at the bar I go to had a birthday party there tonight. Yay Danimal! All my favorite peeps I’ve met there were also in attendance, causing the evening to qualify as “mega-fly.” And that’s always a plus.

One of the girls carved out a watermelon and filled it with fruit and brought dip for it (that’s her standing in the background of the watermelon pic). I cannot tell you how tempting I find an enormous piece of fruit filled with smaller pieces of fruit. Mmmmm num num num num. The blonde girl on the right side of the pic brought venison sausage (when I took my first bite she looks at me and goes “I killed that. Pretty cool, right?”), there was a big ol’ birthday cake, two crock pots of pulled pork for sandwiches, Dan pre-paid for a bunch of beer for everyone, and there was free pool all night. How stinkin’ fun is that, man? :D

It’s weird how quickly this became my “Cheers” place. I never would have thought it would become such a regular hangout for me when I first went there after a show, it’s just so new a style for me. The music’s fun, the dance floor’s very un-Mulligany in its absence of spilled drinks :P, the people who work there are all so welcoming and friendly, there’s an upper bar that’s open on busy nights, and they have the best beef jerky I’ve ever had in my entire life. Seriously. $1.75 gets you that much closer to heaven, dawg.

It’s wonderful getting to know these people from outside of the bar, too. Meeting their spouses and kids and pets, seeing their homes, learning about their jobs (some of them do really interesting things), meeting their exes (‘:O), hearing about their adventures as they go back to school– I love it. :)

Here’s a li’l vid I took there tonight. Happy birthday, Dan. :)


You people are too much. Please quit.

“It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.”
Oscar Wilde

I’m watching 300 and marveling at my ability to eat so heartily after getting a cavity filled without totally chewing up my cheek.

My awesome impressions of 300:

  • The wife has this weird mouth/accent/movement thing that reminds me of Keira Knightly and it’s really annoying. Also, her speech to the council: how was that to be convincing? Cheap, trite, played little sayings. Her only good moment in that scene was when she killed that guy who sold out to Xerxes. All in all, she was fine but forgettable.
  • And at least she didn’t have big, fake boobs. I get kinda tired of that. Of super skinny actresses with impossibly large boobs.
  • The armor plated rhino and elephants? Kickass.
  • Xerxes? Gay.
  • Leonidas? Weird pecs. But the yelling is inspiring I guess.
  • The Immortals’ arrowheads that look like insects? Very cool.
  • Xerxes’ face rings? Gay.
  • The moldy looking hunch back guy who sells out the Spartans? Moldy looking.
  • Xerxes’ gold thong? Gay.

I wouldn’t want to be married to a guy who looked like one of the Spartans. Can you imagine? Ick. You can’t go out to eat with a guy who looks like that because seriously: what can you both eat that you’ll both enjoy? Physically fit? I’ll take that. But looking like one of these guys? I think you just have to give up too much of what makes you enjoyable to be around (like all of your free time) in order to have the time to gain this kind of build for it to be at all enticing to me. I see these muscles and immediately think: Boring.

So yeah. The dentist. Awesome. I’ve never been afraid of going to the dentist. I’ve always kind of enjoyed it, actually.  And this new place was no different. My really sweet dentist’s name is Rachel, and her assistant, Kamil, was great, and Amy the hygenist was a hoot. And thanks to my health insurance the whole thing only put me back like $70 bucks. Not bad, right?

For my video game loving friends.

Went out with Nicki (the brunette) and Angela (the redhead) last night for St. Patrick’s Day.

Nicki is awesome. Angela is her awesome friend who went with her to see “Butterflies Are Free” the second weekend, which I thought was really sweet. :)

After a while we met up with one of the guys from work and his wife and a few of their friends at the HOG.

Good times, but our presence was required back at Hannon’s, so we flew.

Mostly we just hopped around amongst 4 different places that are all right there next to each other and enjoyed the gloriously warm (35 degrees) night air before calling it a night around midnight or so.

I think I’m liking 300 better with the commentary underneath it.

It’s good, but it’s just not really my kinda flick in general. Big surprise, right? But hearing the people who made it talk about how they made it? That totally appeals to me. :)


Dear Movie Stars:


You raise your children to think they really are not like anyone else in any way, like they are special because of who you are. You cannot name them Susan. You cannot name them Thomas. You must name them Nahla Ariela. Because they are too unique to be called by a name anyone else may ever share. Or because you want them to grow up to marry the Lion King.

You people are too much.

Please quit.


Getting Kind of Annoyed


In other news… it appears she’s always been kinda trampy, no? My dad said he saw some news story about her that said her sob story about coming from a “broken home” was her way of sharing the fact that apparently she crashed her dad’s Porsche and cried at him to replace it and he wouldn’t so she left home. Yeesh.