Girl With Cardboard Wings™

my mood

2006-02-16T22:53:00.000-05:00

Smoke - Ben Fold Five
In the Sun - Joseph Arthur
Sometimes We Cry - Van Morrison
Look After You - The Fray
The World Spins Madly On - The Weepies
Rain King (Live in NYC) - Counting Crows
I'm Not That Girl - Idina Metzel
All I Need Is The Girl - Frank Sinatra
No Poetry - Gary Jules
Shower the People (Live) - James Taylor
Have A Little Faith In Me -John Hiatt
Fool In The Rain - Led Zeppelin
Trouble - Coldplay
Tidal Wave- Longwave
Heart Of Gold - Neil Young
Wonderwall- Oasis
Imaginary Love - Rufus Wainwright

Four Things I'm Thinking:

1. "Arrested Development" must move to Showtime or I'm going to have to throttle Mitch Hurwitz.

2. I really couldn't care less about the Olympics; NBC should bring back Scrubs, it's much more entertaining.

3. Life without "The Wire" is no life at all!!! I need season four before September, damn it.

4. Another year gone by and nothing to show for it. I'm getting used to this- and that's kind of scary.

Why is thing called a meme?

2005-11-03T21:27:00.000-05:00

Well, I was supoposed to do this like a month ago, but... well, there's really no excuse. I'm doing it now. And hoopefully I'll write something on this damn blog in the next week or so, but I'm not making any more promises. Because, let's face it, where the blog is concerned, I'm not that good at keeping them.

Ten Years Ago: Umm... I was in ninth grade spending my nights studying for my chance to earn a spot on my school's Science Olympiad team with a huge crush on one of my closest friends, writing on my bookbag with white-out pens.

Five Years Ago: I was a super first-year RA who spent all her cash on candy and birthday cards for her residents and slept through most of my life.

One Year Ago: I was in my third month at my new job. I just found out that it would be a while before I would get the room I was promised.

Five Snacks:
1. chocolate covered pretzels
2. vanilla/chocolate swirl frozen yogurt with reese's peanut butter cups
3. chaep-ass Totino's pepperoni pizza
4. chocolate croissants
5. Haribro gummis (if they still made them, I would prefer the letters)

Five Songs I Know All the Words To:
1. "Layla" by Derek and the Dominos (is that vanity, or what?)
2. "Smoke" by Ben Folds Five
3. "Miss You" by the Rolling Stones
4. "Rocky Racoon" (Anthology version) by the Beatles
5. "Fool in the Rain" by Led Zeppelin

Five Things I Would Do With $100 Million:
1. pay off my student loans and credit cards
2. take all my lovelies on a celebrity cruise
3. take my bestest to Sundance
4. have my dad meet Van Morrison in Ireland
5. buy my mom a pink house on the pink sands right by the ocean with no neighbors

Five Places to Run Away To:
1. my room
2. a movie theater
3. Fellini's with Fuego
4. home
5. Blue and the open road

Five Things I Would Never Wear:
1. a tube top
2. those nasty ass shorts/skirts
3. gold lame (pronounced lamb-a... is that how you spell it)
4. clear high heels
5. spandex

Five Favorite TV Shows (on-air):
1. The Wire (oh-so the number one best thing on now no contest hands-down)
2. Veronica Mars (oh-so witty murder mysteries)
3. Gilmore Girls (oh-so witty mom and daughter)
4. Lost (oh-so suspensful creepiness)
5. Degrassi: TNG (oh-so unbelievable soap opera drama fun)

Five Biggest Joys:
1. children's books
2. a really good movie
3. giving
4. Homicide: Life on the Streets
5. a good mail day

Five Favorite Toys:
1. my Mario Brothers collection (super through cube)
2. Mac the Knife (my trusty iMac)
3. Smoke (my not-so-trusty iPod)
4. Tivo
5. craft supplies

I tag anyone who wants to do this meme. Anyone at all. though I doubt anyone will even read this post to choose to be tagged.

The Definition of Friendship

2005-08-06T03:39:00.000-04:00

A main requirement of friendship for me is the way the two people interact with each other. If it's a friendship like the one between the Heathers in the movie "Heathers" then it's one full of spite and hatred and anger... in other words, it's not a real friendship. for me a real friendship is when people care about each other and candidly talk with one another, not to the point of brutality, but to the point of understanding. I also feel that the success of friendships depends greatly on the chemistry between the people in it. How their sentences feed off from one another's, how things loosen when they're around each other, protection doesn't suffocate and the companionship makes all things in life better.
That is my definition of friendship. But how does this definition change when the people within it change. Some might say that a true friendship would remain through all change. And they would be wrong (unless of course both friends change in the same way).
As we change, as our lives expand and shrink, so do our friends. We grow closer to some and farther from others. How many of us can actually say that our best friend from elementary school was our best friend in middle school who continued to be our best friend in high school and college and is still our best friend now (and, sorry, siblings our family members do not count)? Very, very few. And the bond between to very close friends, which one day is so important, so necessary, can turn into something very sad-- proof of change in a life. And, more than likely, that bond won't break but more wither away until it is gone.
I, luck would have it, had the same best friend from the time I was three. She and I were nearly inseparable. I never imagined being closer to any other person (in a platonic relationship, that is). We grew together through elementary school and middle school and junior high and high school. We changed together. And then in our second year of college we fell apart. I couldn't see the end of it until it was gone. See what I mean? Very sad.
At the time I thought nothing could be worse than losing the person I was closest to in the whole damn world. Can you ever find that kind of friend again? Someone who you can talk about everything with? Someone with whom even the unimportant stuff like cereal mascots or different shapes of ice is important? Where everything said strengthens your friendship? Where moments are never wasted, fights are temporary, and even boredom can be kind of interesting?
It turns out, you can. You can find someone else who fits with the new you better (or could it still be the old you depending on the person of the pair who changes) and you start over. And when you start this next time, you can hope that there won't be much change. And you can hope you'll be lucky enough that when you've known this replacement (for lack of a better word) long enough that you'll realize that they were not so much a replacement, but that they were a step up. Hopefully you'll be lucky that the friendship is far greater than the ones of the past. Now, all you'll have to do is pray that this one won't change. That all changes will be minor. And you hope that if it must end, you can see it coming so you can prepare for the fallout. Because while I believe that a friendship can withstand a move and a marriage and children and jobs and political affiliation, the one thing I don't believe it can weather is the change of a personality, the change of that original chemistry.
Due to recent events, I am worried it could be coming, that change in chemistry. But I've always been a worrier. Let's hope there's no need. Close friends are few and farther between. I've lost one, I don't want to lose another.

Does this things even make any sense? Probably not. Writing done at four am might not necessarily be lucid.

From a Friend (scroll down cause this post is fucked up)

2005-07-26T02:52:00.000-04:00

I was tagged for this meme (how do pronounce this?) by my buddy Fuego and here it is:

Total number of books:
I don't know. Probably about 125 with me, but a great deal more at my parents' house-- add about 200... let's say 325.

Last book I bought:
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling (not that I needed to put the author's name)

The last book I read:
Swing by Rupert Homes

Books I am currently reading:
Swing by Rupert Holmes (which I just have to say, I bought just because it was a mystery that comes with a original cd whose songs help you solve the murder)
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

First memory of book:
I used to love those Spot books with the lift-up flaps. I particularly liked one with a big blue and yellow.

Five books that mean a lot to me:
1. The Phantom Tollbooth by Norman Juster
Could there be a better book in creation? I can't imagine. Maybe one by my friend, Fuego.
2. Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
I opened it once and cried, I saw it, I opened it again and again and again and again and learned that I loved Mr. Miller.
3. The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler
I've always loved mysteries and this book showed me how brilliant they can be.
4. Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets by David Simon
A book I love more for what it started than for it, but still worth every page.
5. Danny the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl
When I first read this book I learned that you don't have to have everything to have everything (I know that was cheesy, but it's true.

Books looking forward to being consumed:
Anything that presents itself to me... the last Harry Potter book is the only thing I'm honestly looking forward to.

Books that are underrated:
Anything that I love isn't loved enough. Everyone should love the books I love.

Books that I think are overrated:
The Iliad and The Odyssey and The Last of the Mohicans and The Pearl... I can't beleive that I was forced to read these. Some books are classics, others are just... old.

I hearby tag Amber and Zesi... you're it!

Life After Cancellation

2005-06-22T13:56:00.000-04:00

I won't give any excuses (even though Baltimore, a craft show and a move are three very good ones) why I zoned out for almost half a year, but just focus on the fact that I'm back and that I do apologize for taking my dear sweet fucking time.

I am cursed.

I type this with complete sincerity. I could mean nothing more.

What does this curse entail, you might ask. And if you're not asking, stop reading because I'm going to tell you anyway. I cannot go a single year without having one of my favorite tv shows canceled. Don't laugh at me. It's a serious curse. In fact, by now I am almost convinced that shows get axed because I watch them.

Truth of the matter is, if I like it it either:
1. Totters on the brink of cancellation
2. Gets cancelled
3. Or has been cancelled for quite some time before I realize it exists

There are only three exceptions: Lost, which became huge, Degrassi:TNG, which doesn't really count since it's shipped in from Canada, and the Gilmore Girls, which, to be fair, lives in content fear of being cancelled.

Case and point, the networks hate what I love. And they are stupid for it. It's not like I'm watching "Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place" or "Family Guy." Speaking of "Family Guy"-- how come this shit gets a second chance when Fox didn't give one
to the one-billionth times better "Undeclared"? I just don't get it!

The up-fronts have come and gone and I have lost two more shows (and at the worst possible times in the series). "Joan of Arcadia" is tossed out with yesterday's trash so that CBS can make room for a show with Jennifer Love Hewitt (kill me!) about a chick who talks to ghosts (rip-off of "Medium" which is a rip-off of "Wire in the Blood"). Say what you will about the show, but there was nothing on tv that dealt with faith and morality so much (and so well) without choosing religious sides and being all touchy-feely. What other show features a sarcastic God and a great father, who just also happens to be an atheist? And just when the evil dude shows up! And UPN who has very little to offer outside of Monday nights and the super-stellar (and almost cancelled) "Veronica Mars", axed "Kevin Hill" without a second thought. Talk about an amazingly shitty ending for a series - the man loses the baby and that's it!!! Oh my God!

I wanted this year to be different. I thought it would be. Miraculously, both "Veronica Mars" and "Arrested Development" were kept around for at least another year. Shows I am less invested in came back - "Numbers," "Crossing Jordan," "Medium," "Scrubs." Hell, Kyle Secor even got a new show. I thought it was locked, but unfortunately my luck caught up with me and my buddies Joan and Kevin were shafted.

I shouldn't be surprised, this happens all the time. I can't remember when exactly it started, but I can list some of the casualties. I loved "Boston Common" - which aired on NBC for a little more that one season. It was one of the funniest show I have ever seen. It was axed and now Boyd is stuck doing shit like "Yes, Dear." "Ned and Stacey" flopped ratings wise, Fox cancelled it and now both of its stars Thomas Hayden Church and Debra Messing are free to line their shelves with their Emmys and Golden Globes and various other critics awards. "Freaks and Geeks" should have been kept around. It was an excellent show and every time I watch my box-set, watch and laugh at anything else with Judd Apatow's name or see all those Linda Cardellini ER spots, I mourn the loss of Lindsay and Sam and Neil and Nick and Bill and Kim and Ken and Daniel. Two of the biggest burns came from the Absolute Bastard company. They kicked off the witty "Sports Night" in favor of the wimpy "Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place." I don't care how attractive Ryan Reynolds is, that show sucked. How could they cancel Felicity Huffman, Peter Krause, Josh Charles and Robert Guillaume? It makes so sense. Then they canceled "Gideon's Crossing" even though it had pretty good ratings. Which forced me to follow my dear Andre to that shitty cabbie show and Ravi to the ordinary "Crossing Jordan" (of which he and the British guy are the best part). I hate those Disney bitches.

There have been more, or course, but none parallels to the pain caused by American Movie Classics. A channel that had doesn't have to succumb to Nielsen Ratings. It's cable for God's sake and they didn't have anything else to offer! But they cancelled "Remember WENN"-- the show right under "Homicide: LOTS" as the best TV show of all time (ask least on my list). No reason, no warning, it was just gone. What made it even worse was that it left in the middle of a cliff hanger. A major cliffhanger -- two major cliffhangers. Now for I'll have all eternity to wonder whether Betty will pick Scott or Victor and I'll never know who the fuck Hillary is married to. And to add grave insult to grave injury, the AMC website says "there are no plans to re-broadcast or produce additional episodes of Remember WENN, nor is it available for purchase." They won't even put it on DVD!!! How is that fair?? Bastards!

The curse doesn't stop there. It is so bad it even starts to affect shows I love that are in syndication. For example, I began watching and falling in love with "Homicide: LOTS" only to have CourtTV stop playing old episodes so that they could play more "NYPD Blue" (a far inferior show). After I discovered how fabulous "Northern Exposure" is, the Hallmark Channel decides to play a fifth episode of "Walker, Texas Ranger" at two in the morning. They've stopped playing the show altogether. Now the only way I can get my fix is to buy the damn DVD sets, which I'm not ready for.

In conclusion, I ask you this: How come Paris Hilton gets renewed and CSI gets three shows, but there is absolutely no room for Taye Diggs and God?

The City That Bleeds

2005-02-11T23:00:00.000-05:00

As you think of your dream vacation, what spot comes to mind? London? Southern France? Perhaps Greece or Italy? The pink sands of the Bahamas? The tropical weather of Brazil? Or perhaps you wish to visit the bustling city of Tokyo, rub shoulders with the famous in Los Angeles? If you're me, then the city with the highest homicide rate comes to mind. That's right, Bodymore, Murderland (a nickname pulled from the opening credits of "The Wire").

Let me tell you a story. About four years ago, I was a sophomore in college trying to find a way to procrastinate so I wouldn't have to actually write an essay on some novel that I was being force-fed. The best way for me to kill time, then and now, was to sit down in front of my tv and lose myself in the twenty-eighth viewing of "Trading Places" or the 822nd of "Coming to America." Alas, comedy central, TNT, TBS and the like were not playing these two impossible-to-resist Eddie Murphy movies. I was forced to flip through the channels to find another suitable source of diversion. And what was on CourtTV? But a crossover marathon of Law& Order. And that was how I found "Homicide."

It's true that I had two friends who both had tried to engage me in the series earlier, but they had both failed to convince me to give it a real chance. I suppose I just needed to discover it on my own. Soon I was watching every re-run, taping them to keep for posterity. Eventually, I ended up seeing the episodes more times than the two friends who tried to introduce me to the series in the first place.

In falling in love with "H:LOTS" and the actors who made the show so memorable, I fell in love with Balmer. After all, Baltimore was the inspiration, the setting and the main character of, what is in my mind, the greatest drama ever to air on television. There is no way to separate one from the other. After making my way through the fifth season, I started to wish that I could have been in the city when they were making the show. That I would have realized what kind of show was on NBC Friday nights and decided to stay home once and a while to watch it.

They say better late than never. And there was once about three years ago that I thought my dream would be coming true, even if it was belatedly. Unfortunately, the plan fell through and I had to put the idea of visiting the home of Bayliss and Pembleton to rest.

As luck would have it, I got a job this year. And with the job came a room and the need for furniture. New, cheap furniture. And what is the place where you can find the best furniture for the most reasonable price? IKEA, of course. And guess where the nearest IKEA store just happens to be. That's right. Baltimore.

So, it seems that for the time being that the fates are looking out for me. They've given me a reason, an excuse, to make my way to mecca. I just hope that when I get there, it lives up to the expectations I built-up in my mind.

And that it hasn't changed too much from the Baltimore I fell for in the dusty syndication of "Homicide."

Pronounced Ex-Her-Bee-Us

2005-01-20T23:39:00.000-05:00

There has to be a word stronger than dislike, sweeter than hate, more severe than annoying, while still not meaning totally evil. But where is it? Xherbius. From now on xherbius is just that word. I xherbius (greatly) Barbara.

Let me explain.

I am a nanny (currently) and the (fabulous) family I live with only has one downside - Barbara. She's a 55-year-old woman with bad hair, a face that looks like it had some bad cosmetic surgery and tacky jackets that she wears with tank tops sans-bra, tight pants and seriously nasty heels (we're talking ones with rubberband straps, gold lame with print and some with clear heels) . A woman whose family doesn't even like her enough to keep her. Overly harsh, I know. But ponder this: her three sons, daughter, her parents, her three brothers, and her sister all live in the area. And none of them will take her in. She's "tried it before and we just can't live together." When your family can't live with you, then why would you think anyone else could?

When I moved in in August I was told that Babs would be moving out by October and I would move into the room she's using on the bottom floor of the three-story house away from everyone else. There would be much more privacy, nicer bathroom, an office I could use to write and the room's bigger. I just had to wait until October when my boss, friends with Barbie, thought she would be moving out. Told her to move out by. But the date passed and here it is January and Barb is still living downstairs.

But she's not just living here for her $700 a month. Sure free water, free electric, free heat, free ac, free premium cable come with the price she pays. But she also takes free phone service (three of four lines she uses for her office!), free internet, free food, free laundry facilities complete with detergent, and free booze - all of which she's been asked not to do.

She hovers over us all - makes sure that I remember all I have to do (especially when I don't need reminding) and squeezes herself into any private time my boss might wish to spend with her boyfriend. She leaves her dirty spoons on the just cleaned counter, her old coffee in the microwave and used wine glasses beside the sink for days. She has been known to come into the my boss's bedroom, stand over her bed, wake her up and talk to her. She brings over her young grandchildren to spend the night and then tries to get the boy I take care of to play with them so she doesn't have to bother. She leaves candles lit and falls asleep. She turns on the tv, the light, the oven and never turns them off. She never leaves the house so I can get any work downstairs done. She leaves dirty footprints over just mopped floors. She eats the house food. She eats my food. She will wait until she hears coming down from upstairs, sprint up to the main level, turn on the tv and watch it just so I can't do the same. She drinks three to four glasses of wine every night until she looks and sounds like WC Fields.

And no matter how many times my boss tells her she needs to buy a house and move out, she still here. It's like that little cartoon from the 80s - the man buys a cat, the cat fucks up everything, he tries to kill it, but "the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, he thought it was a goner, but the cat came back the very next day, he just couldn't stay away."

Of course things are made more complicated because they are kind of friends. No one wants to evict someone who's their friend. and the kid loves her, so that makes the situation even more awkward.

I don't know that I can take her being here much longer. she's gotten to be even more annoying. I made a phone call from the house line, she hovered around for the entire convo and only left after it was over.

Not to mention the morning I spent bailing her out of jail. Oh yes! That's right! Bail her out of jail. My boss was out of town on business when Barbara called before seven asking me to "just pick her up from jail" after the kid got to school. I went to the jail, but they wouldn't let her out because she hadn't made bail. So I waited longer to talk to her about the situation. Never in my life had I ever had to pick someone up from jail, let alone bail them out. The only knowledge I have about that part of the justice system are things I have seen on "Homicide," "Law and Order," "Night Court," and those scenes from movies where parents bail out their children after they've done something stupid. So I wait for a call on the pay phone inside the jail's waiting room from this woman. After about an hour waiting and asking asinine questions about bail bonds to the policewoman at the front desk, I get a call from Barbara telling me she needs to be downtown for a meeting in fifteen minutes. No thanks for showing up. Nothing. So I drive across the street to the nearest bail bonds office with a bright open sign in the window. It's locked up, so I climb back into my cold car and call the number on the side of the building. I leave a message and wait for the bondsman to call me back "momentarily." I wait over 30 minutes, call and leave another message with the same response. After yet another 30 minutes, I call again and return to the house to wait for his call just in case Barbara tries to call again. After I get there I try to do some work, but alas am quickly interrupted by a phone call from one of her friends. Who was in her shower while Babs calls three times and wants to know what she should do. I explain the situation to her and she says she'll call the bondsman and then call me back. If she doesn't get the guy, she'll call and let me know so I can call another bondsman. It was 11:30 by this time. Over three hours of this crap. At one, I call her friend back who says she didn't hear from the bondsman (forgot to call, did we?) and in the middle of that call who phones in but Babs. I flash over and she near yells at me for still being in jail. I explain. The rest of the story short, her friend goes to meet with the bondsman because I wasn't eligible to do so, she gets out of jail, and then I go with them to drive her and her car home - of course she doesn't make it home before calling a second time telling my boss (home by that time) that I had not bailed her out of jail and she was still stuck there. And that was that. No gas money for all the driving around I did. No thanks. But she did, however, mention about a million times how disagreeable the police were being with her. Maybe that was because they're not usually nice to drunk drivers. Just a guess.

Will she ever shut-up? Will she ever mind her own business? Will she ever say thank you? Will she ever leave? No one can answer these questions. I can only pray that when he rent goes up to $1200 at the beginning of March she'll leave. If not, I can take pleasure in the fact that if she's not out by May, she'll be evicted. And at least if she's here that long, I'll be able to see all of her hideous shoes out by the side of the road for pickup.

Hypocrite!

2005-01-01T16:13:00.000-05:00

Auld Langs Syne never really made a whole lot of sense to me. In the chorus we sing to forget about old friends forever and in the next damn verse we're singing about holding their hand a drinking to the old time with them. Come to think of it, I don't like the song that much. So, I guess it fits the holiday because I don't like it much either.
I had a good friend in high school who claimed that her favorite holiday was New Year's. She was quite into theater and said that she thought of the year as a production and New Year's Eve was the final bows. Or some sort of crap like that. I have never been one to really like New Year's Eve. I think that it is probably my least favorite holiday - it's even ahead of Valentine's Day (because in high school lon Valentine's Day my friends and I would gather together with ice cream and watch love sucks movies).
The beginning of a New Year the end of an old one is supposed to bring some sort of relief to people. This year was lousy, but there's the hope that next year will bring the Publisher's Clearing House Prize Patrol and Brad Pitt (or Angelina Jolie, whoever you go for). I, on the other hand, just feel a whole lot of dread. Fuck, will this be the year that I break my foot again or perhaps it's the year I will file for bankruptcy.
The animosity I have for the holiday I suppose comes from the fact that my new years have been getting progressively worse since I graduated from high school. I can count on my hand the things that really made me happy in 2004 - and yes, a less superficial person might count good health and a loving family as one of those things but I'm not that kind of person. I know there are those who are a lot worse off than I am, but right now I'm not thinking of them. I'm thinking of me since that's what I'm writing about. I got to meet Kevin Smith in 2004 and that was a big thrill. I have a job and it's a good one. Sadly, though, I can't really think of anything else.
Mostly the last night of 2004 left me feeling very alone. My parents called around noon and sister called at midnight to welcome in the New Year. It was surprisingly nice to hear from her. She's been calling more often now than she used to. It's nice, but I have a feeling that it will be a while before I hear from her again now that her boyfriend's back in town and school is about to be back in session.
The first few days of 2005 have been slow and it looks be be another stellar year. But, hey, at least I have a place to live, a family who loves me, a good job, right? After all, that's what you were thinking. How can she complain when there are so many people so much worse off than she is? Doesn't she know how lucky she is?
My answer, I don't feel like being grateful or gracious. And I haven't been lucky since 1999.
Happy New Year!!!!

Christmas Time Is Here Again

2004-12-10T01:20:00.000-05:00

As the holidays are approaching and I have finished all of my Christmas shopping, I'd thought I'd reflect on my favorite things that the season brings. No time of year is quite as wonderful as this one. The only way for it to be any better was if it could snow in South Georgia. I suppose there's a small chance.

- “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” - Though this song is usually connected to its most popular version sung by Judy Garland, I have always preferred Frank Sinatra’s version (and no, not just because I’m a big Frank fan). Maybe it’s the way he sings the first lyric without instrumentals or, perhaps, it’s the way he makes the happy song still seem a little sad. I don’t know exactly why, but hearing it my heart ache for the holidays and my eyes water. For me it truly embodies this time of year - people are never quite as lovely as they are around Christmas. It’s around Christmas that things become a lot simpler and life seems to just be better. And those are the things this song reminds me of.

- Midnight Mass - Is there anything as beautiful as a room full of faces lit by soft candlelight singing “What Child Is This”?

- Buying and Giving Gifts - So many people say that they love to give gifts, but hate to buy them. And though I might get frustrated at times, I still love to do both. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as figuring out the perfect gift and then giving it. Getting presents is nice too, but it doesn't come close to the feeling I get when I give them.

- Wrapping - I have always loved to make pretty packages and at Christmas it’s much easier than at other times in the year. There’s more choices of paper and bows and tags. I like it so much that I actual volunteer to wrap their people’s presents.

- “A Christmas Story” and “It’s A Wonderful Life” - Two movies that had lukewarm receptions when they were first released are now two of the most watched movies around Christmas time. “Randy lay there like a slug it was his only defense” is as funny as the “Buffalo Girls” scene is touching. Don’t get me wrong, I love Bill Murray, Frosty and Rudolph are great, but I still would rather spend the holidays with Ralphie and George. Ecept maybe...

-”It’s Christmas, Charlie Brown” - Is anything as sweet as that small tree decorated with lights and tinsel? And if the sight of that tree isn’t enough to make you cry, there’s always “Christmas Time is Here.”

- Waking Up Christmas Morning - My sister and I have had a long tradition to get up as early as possible on the 25th to open our stockings, wake up our parents and call our grandparents to the house. As we have gotten older, the tradition hasn’t stopped; we’re still filled with the same excitement. And while last year we slept in until seven, we were still the first ones up.

- Christmas Silliness - My sister and I aren’t the only ones made giddy by the holiday. Every Christmas my father gets funnier and funnier. Last year he took the “Where the Wild Things Are” puppet he gave my mother for a stocking stuffer and proceeded to put a show for the entirety of the gift opening. The puppet commented on how my sister and it had identical hairdos while offering to massage my mother’s feet with it’s mouth. Though no one can make us all laugh like my father, my grandfather tries by seeing exactly how many bows he can stick to his bald head.

- “...And then she threw up.” - No Christmas would be complete without the retelling of the unfortunate year where I was so sick I threw up on my father almost right after I opened my Fisher Price Kitchen set. A tale that is closely followed by the story of the preschool Christmas concert where they teachers wouldn’t let the three-year-old go to the bathroom before the concert, so she had an accident right as we reached the toilet after the concert was over. My mom vowed never to let me wear tights after that night.

- The Opening of the PJs - A Christmas Eve tradition where my mom gives herself, my father, my sister and I new pajamas to wear that night to bed.

- The Passing Out of the Gifts - After we are all assembled in our usual seating arrangements (my sister, father and I on the floor, my mother and grandmother on the couch and my grandfather in the armchair), my dad picks up a gift, calls the name of the recipient and my sister and I deliver them.

- Christmas with Games - After the presents are all opened and my mother and grandmother have started on dinner, my sister and I skip westerns and football games and opt instead to play video games - which we play until my grandmother finishes and calls us down to play the card game Skip-Bo.

- Choosing and Decorating the Tree- It’s not just the smell that makes me love0 live Christmas trees, it’s the way they looks. Fake trees just don’t look the same. We choose a tree from the farm, cut it down and bring it home. My mother puts on the lights, while I drape on all the ornaments that I can without having to use a step-stool. She finishes with the rest and our tree is made perfect. All ornaments are different and meaningful. Though there are definitely more trees out there whose ornaments match better, not many can boast a homemade, antique silk screened bird like the one my mother made my father on their first Christmas together.

What Is This Thing Called Love?

2004-11-30T01:16:00.000-05:00

I've been wondering about love a lot lately. How to find it, how is feels, and my definition of it. I spent most of the Thanksgiving weekend watch my sister and her boyfriend play cute with each other. Tickles and kisses and attached hips. Most of all wondering what "I love you" means to my sister (as she said it a million times), and that made me wonder what the hell it means to me. I've never loved anyone the way someone loves their boyfriend or girlfriend. Do people even think about it? I don't think about loving my family and my close friends, that love just exists. It's there, I know it is. My mother, discussing my sister's affection for her boyfriend and how she treats him better than the family, said "it's different." How is it different? It's hard to say if I will ever know, I guess you can't know until you wake up one day and realize you're there.
But while I was home pondering the meaning of love (I hate that I used that phrase, but, oh well), I decided to busy myself by packing the remainder of my winter clothes to take with me back to Atlanta. Sifting through all the cardboard boxes sacked against my wall, I found one containing a present my father gave to me on my eighteenth birthday. Hidden in the dull beige pages of a Wendy's spiral notebook is the letter my father wrote to me the day I came into the world. I read it. Twice. I guess, that's what love is. So, for those of you who doubt that the emotion exists at times, the letter's below (errors and those parts unrelated to the subject). And for those of you who never doubted, I hope you never do.
If this is all the love I will ever know, I suppose it's more than I can ask for.

3-1-81
1:27 p.m.

Dear--
As I sit in the hospital watching your mother sleep have giving birth to what has to be the most beautiful baby ever I want to say a few things before time erodes them from my memory (your father has always been a bad speller).
Your mother is the only woman I could ever love. The hardships and pain she endured tonight only confirms to me her love and caring for you and for me. Never hurt her, her love for you from your first moment is clean and pure and truley unselfish. We will be the lucky ones knowing we are hers.
Your father, at two hours, is truly in love with you. We may question his abilities of fatherhood in the future but always remember I love you. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. To see you come into this world from your mother's womb is my most cherished sight. From now forward I have two women in my life.
About your name; it has a special meaning to me. It is the title of a very old song which is now unknown . At a time in my life it was extremely important to me. To listen to the song, you wouldn't know how much strength it gave me. I love you, and to remember all these things, your mother and I named you this.
Your mother is still sleeping - but our tomorrows will only be better, since your arrival.
I love you now and always,
Father

Just like Miranda...

2004-10-20T23:06:00.000-04:00

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. I think that is a lyric in some song - I can't remember which.

Things have been insanely busy for me, but in a good way. I've been bad about writing. Not just in my blog, but in my other endeavors as well.

With all the work and running after things, I only have time to watch television late, late at night. So, I bought myself a Tivo- making it all the easier to watch all my shows on cable.

Thank God for the Tivo and for the new fall lineups in general. This year, there's more promising and engaging shows than there have been in a long time. ABC has actually produced, not one, but two good shows. And it only took them three years from "Gideon's Crossing" to do it.

So, follows are all my pics to click to. Please consider them, I'd hate for them to get canceled- that's usually what happens to the shows I love.

* "Gilmore Girls" (Tues. The WB, 8 pm) Just keeps getting better and better. The characters are well written with still easy to relate it. And this year with Luke and Lorelei together, I couldn't be happier (unless Michael was in more episodes).

* "Veronica Mars" (Tues. UPN 9 pm) Though the premise of a teenager going out to help her PI father with his cases sounds cheesy, it's not. Veronica is sarcastic, strong, sane and smart - a great female character. Plus, the cast includes one Mr. Kyle Secor - all shows with Kyle are worth watching.

* "Scrubs" (Tues. NBC 9:30 pm) Some people don't like it, I can't understand why. This show is, in my opinion, the best show left on NBC (and the silliest). And I think they've stopped moving it around-- even better.

* "Lost" (Wed. ABC 8 pm) Everyone's saying how imaginative this show is. Probably because it doesn't involve a hospital, a lawyer, an investigation, the life of teenagers or describe itself as "reality programming". It's interesting (in a good way) and highly addictive. What is on that island anyway?

* "Kevin Hill" (Wed. UPN 9 pm) It's fun, Taye Diggs is good looking and it has two former members of "H:LOTS" in it's cast. Plus, what else could people watch WEd. at 9 pm?

* "The OC" (Thurs. FOX at 8 pm starting on Nov. 4, I think) Yes, yes, I know. It's trash. Or so people tell me. But I can't escape it in that "Dawson's Creek"/"Melrose Place"/Soap Opera sort of way. Plus, I love the music and Seth Cohen. Hey, he's funny.

* "Joan of Arcadia" (Fri. CBS 8 pm) Okay, okay. I'll admit that I used to pick on this show before I watched it just based on the premise. But when I stayed with my parents over the summer and had no choice but to watch it with my mom, I got hooked. It really is a great show. It's not all touchy-feely like "Touched by an Angel" or "Judging Amy" or anything like that. It's a really good show and the actor's on it are superb. (On a side note, I just got finished watching that "Girl Next Door" movie and was thoroughly amused just by the character the guy who plays Adam plays in this movie. It's so different from his role on Joan.)

* "Degrassi: The Next Generation" (Fri./Sat. The N 8 pm) No, it's not just for kids. In Canada (where it's produced), everyone watches it. I used to watch the first series when I was a kid and grew to love it. It's a great show that deals with a lot of issues in a open, honest way. Sure, all the things happen to the same twenty people, but they can afford so many actors. What other shows can you think of that deal with homosexuality, racism, date rape, abuse and abortion without making it into a movie-of-the-week. The characters are fleshed out and, while the actors do say about like "aboot", it is very affecting. They don't sugarcoat things, and that is something that I admire.

* "Desperate Housewives" (Sun. ABC 9 pm) It's funny, addictive and makes you feel sorry for women. Like "Veronica Mars." it's got a couple of ongoing mysteries that make it impossible for me to miss an episode.

* "The Wire" (Sun. HBO 9 pm) The best, my favorite. It's hard to get into at first. It wants you to think, and for some people that's a problem. But after about three episodes, you're hooked. It's the best written show on tv, in my opinion. Right now, I can't wait for Sunday's new episode. No big names or really recognizable faces, but boy, can those guys act. My two all-time favorite characters: McNulty, a driven, talented detective with a shitty personal life and a bad drinking problem and Omar, an extremely likable bad guy with a serious scar who steals money from drug dealers and other corrupt individuals. The best, the best, the best.

* "Arrested Development" (Sun. FOX 9:30 pm starting on Nov. 7) You might not continuously cackle, but it's still the funniest show on tv. I love Jason Bateman, I love the guy who plays Gob, I love the guy who plays Buster, I love Jeffrey Tambor, I love the chick who plays Lucille, I love them all. But most of all, I love Slow Donnie (aka David Cross). I would watch anything he's in. Why? Because he's really fucking funny.

I know this post was really just an advertisement for my favorite television series, but can you blame me? I mean, over the years I would say a good third of the show's I love were canceled before their third season. Mostly because of shitty ratings.

So, try a few. If you do, I'll try a few of yours.

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

2004-09-14T23:05:00.000-04:00

First thing's first-- I promise to write more frequently from now on. Once a month, even twice a month is not enough. So, my dear (and few) readers, I apologize. Now, on to the post.

Yes, he does. The past month has flown by as only occupied time can. God has seen fit to grant my prayers and give me a job. An excellent job. It keeps me beyond busy (hardly any time to write so far), but I'm happy to be it. So, thanks Jesus. You know I appreciate it.

I never thought that I would be a person who would be so entirely excited about working-- someone who actually needs and wants to work. Turns out, I am. Things are going well. I'm trying to not spend my money before I earn it. Health care! Repaying college loans! The new Homicide dvd set! Yay!

More than just that, my craft projects might find their way to actually making me money! And in two stores no less. I can't believe it!

In other news, I learned how to make rolled fondant icing from scratch and the cake (a wedding one) turned out pretty well.

So, I've got a great job, boss, place to live, prospects, IKEA is coming to the Atl AND the new season of "The Wire" starts on Sunday! So I've got David Simon and cheap European furniture to look forward to. Life is good.

And not just for me, things are working out for my friends too. We've all seemed to get the jobs we needed and things we need (healthcare and transport). It makes me happy that we all have good news.

Even better news if the the boarder living in the bottom floor of the house moves out before or shortly after Christmas-- my mother and I will be forced to go to IKEA in ..... Baltimore to buy furniture since the one in Atlanta won't be open yet.

For those of you reading this are are sickened by my recent stroke of good fortune, there's not need to worry, not all my luck has changed. I'm still as horny as hell.

Till after the Emmys (when I'm sure I'll have something to say).

But the Big Thing Just Said, "Snort!"

2004-08-18T23:31:00.000-04:00

My father has always claimed that when he read "Are You My Mother?" to my sister and I when we were little, we would cry. He read that particular book so well that he made us weep. Of course, no one is actually certain that this did or did not happen. Mind you, my father is the man who claimed to have invented Strawberry Shortcake and the Care Bears. The man who supposedly thought of "E.T." first and who personally knew the Patty O'something guy from The Chieftains in college. In other words, there is no way of knowing if my sister and I shed tears over his reading. But my mother, never quite as silly as my father, swears that we both loved that book and loved for him to read it to us. So, maybe it's true.

I was sitting in Borders the other day just killing time reading magazines so I wouldn't have to return to my grandparents' home and hear them tell me what a sheltered life I've lived (which jut goes to prove that neither of them know me that well even though I lived with them for a month). I retreated to the children’s section as I normally do to read. People are always crowded around the rest of the store, but no one really stays in the children's section for a sustained period of time. I'm sure that most people feel too old or mature to sit in a cushy, green chair resembling a book. But I am not one of those people. I am quite immature and, though I feel old, I have no shame in talking to a four year-old about the friend we share in Clifford (this happened once, but not the other day).

But I'm getting off topic, as usual. I had been sitting on that big green seat for about an hour perusing the latest copies of Premiere and Entertainment Weekly when I finished reading both. When I look up and notice "Are You My Mother?" staring at me from the bookshelf across from me. I get off my ass, grab a copy and quickly re-read it. Ahh, memories.

Truth be told, it's a really sad book. The bird falls out of the nest and then asks all these things if there his mother and none of them are. I now realize that maybe this is not the book I want my father to read to my children when they come and spend the weekend with their grandparents.

When I was younger, I loved to read. I like to read now (dissecting books has ruined my complete love of the pastime), but then I loved to read. A love which was due in no small part to my mother, a kindergarten teacher who bought more students books for Christmas presents with her own cash than any other person on the planet (or at least, any person living off a teacher's salary). My sister and I got books for every occasion and every non-occasion. I think that I engulfed every Nancy Drew book I could get my hands on in a one-month period. But that's really not that impressive, you probably did it in a week.

I remember those books so much better than I remember books I finished during my last year in college. I love them more. I can admit it. Though the more literary of you might think I'm crazy when I say that "The Phantom Tollbooth" is the best book I have ever read-- it is. And no, this is not just because I haven't read some book that you think is the greatest book ever written. It's because it just is.

Funny thing is, I can't ever remember my parents reading to me. I know they did. Not just because they said they did, but because everyone else says they did. I just wish I could remember that. I can remember my father singing his own version of a Danny Kaye song or "gimme a ticket for an aeroplane, ain't got time to take a fast train, lonely days are gone, I'm a going home 'cause my baby she's-a wrote me a letter." But can't remember any of the reading. Which is odd since I closely link my parents reading to me to my love of children's books and that love to my aspiration to publish one someday.

My sister tells me she remembers it-- which I highly doubt. My mother talks about my love of Spot the Dog books when I was three. And, well, you know what my dad talks about. My grandmother, who often likes to tell the same story about her other grandchildren over and over and over again, repeatedly gives my mother credit for how much those two like to read-- as my mother send them books all the time for occasions and non-occasions. But, that's my mother.

Since I ended with a list last time, I'll end with a list this time (mostly I'm ending it this way because I'm too lazy to write a real end for the post). My favorite children's book characters (listing the books would be a little too easy) in no particular order... well, minus the first one. If you're wondering how I can remember these guys, I do re-read the stories from time to time. And if you haven't read them, you should. They're just as good as those books people force you to read in college. Some are better.

1. Milo, The Phantom Tollbooth
2. Edmund, The Narnia Chronicles
3. Encyclopedia Brown, Encyclopedia Brown Mysteries
4. Peter, A Snowy Day
5. Piggins, Piggins Books
6. Claudia, From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
7. Felix Clousseau, The Incredible Paintings of Felix Clousseau
8. Kristy, The Baby-Sitter's Club
9. Ms. Whatsit, A Wrinkle in Time
10. Fudge, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, etc.
11. Jack, The Stinky Cheeseman and Other Fairly Stupid Tales
12. Wolf, The True Story of the Three Little Pigs
13. Ramona, All of the books she was in
14. Skinnybones, Skinnybones, etc.
15. and 16. Danny and his father, Danny, Champion of the World
17. The White Witch, Narnia Chronicles
18. Humbug, The Phantom Tollbooth
19. Taran, The Prydain Chronicles
20. Max, Where the Wild Things Are
21. Baby Bird, Are You My Mother? (would the list be complete without it?)

These are the ones I thought of off the top. I'm missing some, but I remembered these.

Holden, Jersey and Home

2004-08-15T18:45:00.000-04:00

I am sick and tired of those people (and I pray that you are not one of them) who use large words and spend years trying to craft (supposedly) masterful sentences so that you, the ordinary human, think that they are intellectuals. Those who produce art that doesn't mean anything, write words that don't mean anything and sit around with other people exactly like them and make subtle jabs at all those other poor schulbs in the room who (they think) aren't as smart as them. I hate the pseudo-intellects of the world (and there are so many). As I think of them I think of Holden Caulfield who hated them too. A character that those people like to quote and whose author they say is a genius, but the words they never seem to take to heart. True Holden was a little bit crazy, but he was right about the phonies. I severely dislike them. But I'll save the bulk of that rant for another post.

Moving on, I just finished watching "Garden State" (a gorgeous film, by the way-- a friend of mine is laughing right now as she reads this statement). The film was particularly lovely especially one scene in which the main character speaks of home. Basically, that once you leave the home you grew up in for a sustained period of time it stops being your home. And you are essentially homeless until you create one of your own to share with your kids.

I've been feeling homeless myself lately. When I left home to go to college, my college and the city in which it resides in became my new home. I lived there for five years. But when I was shoved out of the second city I called home and forced to return to the first place I called home, I was left without any home. Now it just feels like I am aimlessly traveling detached between both places. Which is needless to say kind of depressing.

And how have I chosen to deal with having no home? By listening to the same songs over and over and over again (especially now that I finished watching that new Homicide box set two days ago).

So, since everyone else seems to be doing it and I'm no better than a lemming, here's my homeless, but hopeful list of songs to get me through the days and nights until I find the place I belong and a person to belong with (sorry that bit was so cheesy):

1. Daisy Jane - America
2. Cry on Demand - Ryan Adams
3. You're Everywhere - Polaris
4. St. Patrick’s Day - John Mayer
5. Pay for What You Get - Dave Matthews Band
6. Long May You Run - Neil Young
7. Secret Garden - Bruce Springstein
8. Wonderwall - Ryan Adams
9. Only Love Can Break Your Heart - Neil Young
10. I Do - Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians
11. Reflecting Light - Sam Phillips
12. Question - Old '57s
13. No Poetry - Gary Jules
14. Sweet Thing - Van Morrison
15. Collide - Howie Day
16. High and Dry - Radiohead
17. Songs of Love - Ben Folds
18. Real Love - The Beatles
19. Let Me Down Easy - Chris Isaak
20. I Wish I Knew Now - The Faces
21. Bruised - The Bens
22. On Love, In Sadness - Jason Mraz
23. Wonderwall - Oasis
24. If You Fall - Azure Ray
25. My Coco - Stellastarr*
26. The End of the World - The Cure
27. Everyone - Van Morrison

Happiness is Dead Bodies

2004-08-09T00:02:00.000-04:00

When life gets depressing I've always found comfort in movies. People have never been able to console me that well. Who knows why. Maybe because through their back pats and hugs I am reminded of whatever I would rather forget. So, I often turn to the familiar faces in my favorite movies.

For problems with love usually the Jon Favreau movie "Love and Sex" or "Broadcast News" (which I also turn to for job woes). For all other problems including those involving friendship, disappointment and general down in the dumps I mostly put on Stanley Tucci's films (pretty much just "The Impostors" and "Big Night"), "Singin' in the Rain," "Guys and Dolls" and "The Good Girl." And if I'm seriously wallowing in self-pity I watch "Donnie Darko"-- which, believe it or not always makes me feel better (I remember that at least I'm not seeing at psychotic bunny).

Lately, my film companions haven't been helping with frustration. I sit down to watch one and find I would rather be plucking my eyebrows (maybe not that, but you get the point, I'm bored from the beginning). To ease my worries I have been obsessively (or more obsessively than usual) watching my old taped episodes of "Homicide".

My friends reading this are now rolling their eyes. I'm quite sure that they thought that I was already watching the show every spare moment in my life. But they're wrong. Before the past two weeks, I've been on a H:LOTS hiatus for probably about two or three months. I'd watch the occasional episode every now and then (more than likely "A Model Citizen" from Season Two or "Night of the Dead Living" from Season One), but I haven't broke out the tapes since they started coming out with the box sets-- so, it's been almost a year.

Now I find myself compulsively watching the things. Even now, James Earl Jones is talking to Yaphet Koto and fixing a basketball net in the background (I could tell you about the rest of the episode almost verbatim, but I wouldn't want to spoil anything?).

Who knew that murders, suicides, morgues, interrogations, bad ties and Richard Belzer could make a person so happy?

And even though I have absolutely no money for it, I still shelled about $66.48 for the Season Four Box Set. Mike Kellerman will arrive tomorrow-- just in time to help me cope with another job rejection.

But enough about me, what do you watch when you've had a shitty day (or month)?

Was that head-gear or a back brace she was wearing?

2004-07-15T00:47:00.000-04:00

My little sister will be leaving early this morning to travel from Savannah to Pennsylvania so she can meet her boyfriend's family. Which is unbelievable. For two reasons:

First of all, she has been dating this guy for less than three months. And two of those months he hasn't been in Savannah. Not that I am a expert on relationships, but isn't this the kind of thing you do before you move in with someone or get engaged or have a baby? In other words, it seems a little quick. Really quick when you factor in the $200+ her supposed "completely broke" ass had to shell out for the plane ticket. When you need to borrow some cash to help pay your water bill, you should not be spending large wads of cash on the unnecessary. She has always been a dating machine, but never the kind of girl I would except someone would fly in to meet momma. That being said...

The other has absolutely nothing to do with my sister and everything to do with me. Never more than right now do I feel like Joan Cusack in "Sixteen Candles" (or was it "Pretty in Pink"?)-- feeling completely unattractive just wanting a little water from the fountain without having any luck. My best friend is (and rightfully so) currently involved in her own male dating saga. I being currently (and seemingly perpetually) single have no significant other to gossip with her about. All our talks tend to be extremely one-sided because I juts don't have anything I can add. I suppose when she is done talking about her boyfriend I can discuss the upcoming movies of Jake Gyllenhaal, but it's not really the same thing, is it?

In my memory the last time I was formally introduced to a guy's parents, I was in ninth grade (I should say his father since I knew both him and his mother since kindergarten). And that shouldn't really count since he turned out to be gay, so who knows what the dear was thinking as he introduced us. I could have been his alibi (sure, you laugh now, but I'm from a very small Southern town and his parents weren't that open-minded). So, not counting that guy, the last time I was introduced to a male-person's parents was... I'm not going to lie. I can't remember.

Even my mother revealed to my sister (before my sister got angry and hung-up the phone because my mother didn't remember to tell her to bring a gift to the parents) that she never thought Hallie would meet someone's parents before I met someone's parents. But there's still time for me. Rub it in mom, rub it in.

I do wish my sister luck. I hope she is pleasant, thoughtful, and thankful. I hope she's everything to his family that she's (usually) not to us.

Life's enough. I don't need any more reality, thankyouverymuch.

2004-07-10T02:45:00.000-04:00

Is it just me or is tv getting stupider? And no, I don't think that all tv is stupid. I think that people who believe that television is some how to blame for all the problems in our culture are stupid. Let's not blame everything on entertainment.

That being said, I think that the reason I can never find anything decent on the tele is mostly because of reality tv. "Outback Jack," "Extreme Makeover," "Big Brother," "The Simple Life"? Uck. I'm even getting tired of the redecorating shows that I used to love. I cannot take "Trading Spaces" any more. I just want the before and after shots. Spare me Paige.

Of course, my disdain for these shows only deepens since my father, for some reason, as taken an interest in a good many of them. And with only two tvs connected to the satellite, my mother watches all the CBS dramatic programming on one and my father views all of his stuff on the other. Thankfully, I spared from all the stupid rich girl, marrying a midget, dad dating since we can't get Fox or NBC (that is, for the time being). And from all the dating/marrying shows since my father has no interest about hearing women and men talk about their soulmates. Unfortunately, it does include the following: idiots in a house, idiots cooking, idiots fixing hair, idiots in a race.

And what is with the series sequels? I like "Law & Order" as much as the next girl, but come on! Do we really need Criminal Intent, the new trial thing and Special Victims Unit (and this comes from a serious fan of "Homicide" and crossover character Munch). And now there's going to be three CSIs! And I'll admit to watching them from time to time, but only because they're on not because I have some deep desire to see them.

Then you've got all the rip-off shows. Well, they might not be completely be rip-offs, but they pop up shortly after similar shows become successful. And they're names all sound like each other. Like with "The OC." Now there's "Summerland" and "North Beach." Or, as mentioned before, the millions of shows that have come from "Trading Spaces" (which was itself a rip-off of "Changing Rooms"). Maybe the reason I can't watch the show any more is because all I see is the crap that's on tv because of it. I am super-crafty and love making cool stuff, but enough already! Can no one come up with original ideas any more? So many dramatic and comedic shows are either inspired by or spring from other shows on tv. I'm totally cool with spin-offs. Sometimes from spin-offs come great tv. I'm more talking about when "The Sopranos" became successful on HBO how NBC just had to do their own mob story.

Or shows taken from British television. Unlike other countries, America can't just bring in successful, inventive programming from other countries. Oh no, we have to make our version. Our attempt at bettering it for the States. Why do we have to make our own version of "Coupling" or "The Office"? Can't we just leave well enough alone?

And while I understand that some of the shows I watch are probably equally repulsive to some people (though, I can't understand why anyone could hate "Scrubs" or "Arrested Development" if they've ever watched it)-- how can anyone not find "The Swan" vomitious?

And I'm still angry about the sting left behind when networks cancel viewer-supported shows with decent ratings because they think that they can bring in cheaper shows that might make them more money on. Or when networks more around the time of a show you like to watch so much that it makes you think that they don't want you to see it; they just want to take it off the air. ABC (the Absolute Bastard Company as I like to call them) is the worst offender. They canceled some truly fabulous shows- "Sports Night." "Gideon's Crossing," and "My So-Called Life." But they could still afford to keep crap like "Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place on. If they could keep that on for years than they could have kept "Clerks: the Animated Series" on for six weeks. Fox and NBC have also canceled some of my favorites, especially recently. Let's see there was "Ned and Stacy," "Freaks and Geeks," "Undeclared," " Cracking Up," "Deadline," and (I know my friend would kill me for not mentioning) "Miss Match." All these gone to make room for the likes of "The Simple Life," "Average Joe," "For Love or Money," and more news magazine shows. And don't get me started on the cliffhangers that will always be unresolved. Would Angela have ever given Brian a chance? Would Dana and Casey ever get together? And, worst of all, would Betty have chosen Scott or Victor (in case you're wondering this is from AMC's "Remember WENN"- never to be out on DVD)? Couldn't they afford one more episode for clarification purposes? A this-is-what-would-have-happened-if-we-weren't-jackasses-and-canceled-the-show episode?

I'm sure that I am coming off as a television snob. But I'm not. I'll give anything with a brain (and some with only part of a brain) with a try. I'm not too good to admit that I'm glued to "The OC," addicted to "As the World Turns," and can't get enough of "Degrassi: the Next Generation" (and the original Degrassi, too, if the reruns ever air). And I hate to be one of those people who say they only watch HBO... But like it or not that's the way I'm beginning to feel. This summer the only shows I'm looking forward to, with the exception of "Monk" and the aforementioned "Degrassi," are on HBO. I can't wait until I get to see "Entourage" and new episodes of "Da Ali G Show" and "The Wire" (which technically doesn't start until September). And that's about it.

And I get the feeling from all the "coming this fall" hoopla, that next year is not going to be much better. Can someone please deliver me some intelligent shows? Or at least some where I don't feel like I am seriously lowering my IQ or seeing the same thing over and over again by watching them?

Obviously it makes a difference who you are because my heart's desire doesn't seem to be coming any time soon

2004-07-02T01:55:00.000-04:00

I don't like clichés much. Sometimes I use them, out of habit or when it is the only thing I can think to mutter. Like "wherever you go, there you are." I hate that one.

"You can never go home again." I always hated that one, too.

Until Monday. Now I fully understand it's meaning. As I am home, my dear three readers. And it's strange here.

Not strange like the weird kid in your science class or the mold growing in an old tupperware container. It's like I'm looking at life through binoculars. Since I have come home, I've been out of the neighborhood twice. Talked to three people, in person who weren't my parents. And drove my car once. And that was just to get a breakfast biscuit. I have no need or desire to do anything but fill out resumes and fax them to Atlanta businesses.

Every time my parents try to push me to finding a temporary job here, I have to push back twice as hard with a no or the patented "I'll do it later." That last one's particularly hard. Because, being my parents, they know there never will be a later. I spend most of my time watching satellite tv - mostly HBO, The-N and As the World Turns (which is being to lose its excitement). And when I'm not doing that or fixing dinner, I am up in my room mindlessly surfing the internet for nothing. Actually, today I start watching www.apple.com and the iTunes download numbers so I can try to get one of those 50 free iPods they're giving away.

Of course, I can't blame all of it on Tifton's lack of things to do. Because even if there were things to do (which there aren't), I probably wouldn't go do them. I fact, I am entirely comfortable with the day-to-day boredom I have sitting in the house.

I lack the drive to write new things and edit old pieces - something I usually l love to do. It took me almost a whole week to write a new post. And the only excuse I have is that I have full-on little town blues. My house is no longer the home I once knew. And my "visit" here is more like a prison sentence than a vacation. During high school I would never have foreseen this version of my future. I am most definitely not typing some piece of hard-hitting journalism or signing copies of my children's book. Now I would be content just to sell a children's book. Of course in Atlanta, as there are no book stores in Tifton and the nearest one is an hour away.

I can only pray that someone will hire me. Look at my resume, call my references for fucksake.

How I wish I would have gotten that job.

Bald Men and Iron Underwear

2004-06-25T00:43:00.000-04:00

Strap yourself in, here comes the weirdness and the self-pity party.

There are certain times in my life where I find chrome domes attractive (but NOT the comb over guys - I'm particular with my shiny-heads). Those are the times that I am really... really... Let's put it this way--

We're the at the point where I can wear iron undies and a matching demi bra.

I haven't had sex in forever. It's been a long, long time. It could only be worse-- if all the men were wiped off the face of the earth. Then I'd never get any.

And right now, George Costanza has never looked better.

Yes, that's right. George Costanza. No, not Jason Alexander. The actual character from Seinfeld. I know that makes me completely insane. You can't see it. Who could?

It's my theory that everyone has someone they're attracted to that no one can see the attraction in (or none of their friends can see the attraction in - I'm sure somewhere someone loves George all the time). I have a friend that used to lust for Chris Walken. To me, that's a lot weirder than George. But that's all besides the point.

It's not just George. I also get serious jones for Stanley Tucci and Elliott on "Just Shoot Me" (truthfully, it doesn't take a dry spell to make me attracted to these to; it just amplifies it). Honestly, at the second, I've got it worse for the Elliott guy than I have for any of my other lust targets.

But wait, now that I'm watching the Late Late Show, Vince Vaughn is looking pretty good.

God, have pity on me. Give me a man or give me job.

As They Say "The Internet is for Porn"*

2004-06-23T04:21:00.000-04:00

This isn't much of a post, so apologies to the three people who are going to read this.

Thanks to Entertainment Weekly and the Tony Awards, I have discovered a great Broadway musical Avenue Q (whose lyrics I can actually identify with not just sing loudly in the shower). What follows is the sum of my thoughts since I graduated (and I do complain about it all the time). Enjoy (and, if you're interested, the link is in the sidebar)!

"It Sucks to Be Me"

PRINCETON
What do you do with a B.A. in English,
What is my life going to be?
Four years of college and plenty of knowledge,
Have earned me this useless degree.

I can't pay the bills yet,
'Cause I have no skills yet,
The world is a big scary place.

But somehow I can't shake,
The feeling I might make,
A difference,
To the human race.

Morning, Brian.

Hi, Kate Monster.

How's life?

Disappointing.

What's the matter?

The catering company laid me off.

KATE MONSTER
Oh, I'm sorry!

BRIAN
Me too! I mean, look at me!
I'm ten years out of college, and I
always thought -

KATE MONSTER
What?

BRIAN
No, it sounds stupid.

KATE MONSTER
Aww, come on!

BRIAN
When I was little
I thought I would be...

KATE MONSTER
What?

BRIAN
A big comedian
on late night TV
But now I'm thirty-two
And as you can see
I'm not

KATE MONSTER
Nope!

BRIAN
Oh Well,
It sucks to be me.

KATE MONSTER
Nooo.

BRIAN
It sucks to be me.

KATE MONSTER
No!

BRIAN
It sucks to be broke
and unemployed
and turning thirty-three.
It sucks to be me.

KATE MONSTER
Oh, you think your life sucks?

BRIAN
I think so.

KATE MONSTER
Your problems aren't so bad!
I'm kinda pretty
And pretty damn smart.

BRIAN
You are.

KATE MONSTER
Thanks!
I like romantic things
Like music and art.
And as you know
I have a gigantic heart
So why don't I have
A boyfriend?
Fuck!
It sucks to be me!

BRIAN
Me too.

KATE MONSTER
It sucks to be me.

BRIAN
It sucks to be me.
It sucks to be Brian...

KATE MONSTER
And Kate...

BRIAN
To not have a job!

KATE MONSTER
To not have a date!

BOTH
It sucks to be me.

BRIAN
Hey, ROd, Nicky, can you
settle something for us?
Do you have a second?

ROD
Ah, certainly.

KATE MONSTER
Whose life sucks more?
Brian's or mine?

NICKY AND ROD
Ours!

ROD
We live together.

NICKY
We're as close
As people can get.

ROD
We've been the best
of buddies...

NICKY
Ever since the
Day we met.

ROD
So he knows lots
Of ways to make me
Really upset.
Oh, every day is
An aggravation.

NICKY
Come on, that's
an exaggeration!

ROD
You leave your
clothes out.
You put your feet
On my chair.

NICKY
Oh yeah?
You do such anal
Things like ironing
Your underwear.

ROD
You make that very
Small apartment
We share a hell.

NICKY
So do you,
That's why I'm in hell too!

ROD
It sucks to be me!

NICKY
No, it sucks to be me!

KATE MONSTER
It sucks to be me!

BRIAN
It sucks to be me!

ALL
Is there anybody here
It doesn't suck to be?
It sucks to be me!

*title of another song in the musical

That's Life

2004-06-19T01:01:00.000-04:00

My car was broken into shortly before Christmas. Some jackass broke a small side window thinking that with my car (which needed transmission work, fixed air conditioning, a new taillight, and two new door handles) was a veritable treasure trove of goodies. Primarily they wanted my new cd player, but since they couldn't pry it out of the dashboard and realized there was mostly a lot of shit in my car, they opted to take my hidden cd visor.

Now I thought that I cataloged every CD that was stolen so that I could moan appropriately when anyone mentioned the artist. Kind of Blue, Giant Steps, Jason Mraz, The Beatles, The Love Below, Ben Folds Five, Cake-- the list could go on and on. About 30 CDs were taken among them was one CD of the Sinatra Reprise collection. Just one. So I thought.

I understand what I am about to write is going to make me one of maybe twelve people under the age of thirty. It's also going to make me sound like an ultra-geek, but I do not care. I love Frank Sinatra. That's right, love. And I'm not talking about the movies (well, those too); I'm talking about the music. To this day Frank Sinatra is one of only a handful of artists that I liked when I was thirteen that I still like today. The Christmas I was sixteen, I received one of the top ten best gifts ever (right up there with the My Little Pony Paradise Estates). Great gifts are always something you really want, but never have to ask for. Those things that are unexpected. And the Frank Sinatra Reprise Collection was one of them. At the time, I only owned one Frank CD (it was hard then to save up enough cash to get anything and CDs were like two weeks of allowance). My father picked up on how often he heard me listening to it and gave me four more. I cannot convey how much I loved them.

Yesterday, I began to burn my CDs into iTunes (which has been long overdue) and realized more than just one of the cds were gone. All of the cds were gone. I was crushed. No more "My Shadow and Me". No more "I'll Only Miss Her When I Think Of Her." No More "What'll I Do." That is unless I want to shell about another $100 for a new set. I felt so violated when my car was broken into and rifled through, but it's nothing compared to the crappy feeling when I realized that some of my prize possessions had been taken.

What really kills me is the thought of them (probably) in a dumpster somewhere. I can't imagine a thief appreciating any good music, especially good music from over fifty years ago.

Culture Shock and Thanatophobia

2004-06-12T23:07:00.000-04:00

"When you come back to Tifton, you'll be in for a culture shock."

This is what my father said to me earlier today. Dodging the visit of his crazy Popeye-like father-in-law (or the grandfather i've only seen five times in my life), he decided to drive to Atlanta. I love my dad and was happy to see him. In order to spend some quality time together, I invited him to come with me to a free screening of "Napoleon Dynamite" (fabulous, by the way). As we left the theater be began to talk to me about other free screenings I've gone to. Knowing that if I am still jobless in a week, I have to go home to Po'dunk, USA, he said the culture shock thing.

No shit, dad. Truth is, I am absolutely DREADING going back to Tifton. The thought of it almost makes me fall to the floor, a whiny, sniveling lump. How fucking depressing. I'd kill myself if I wasn't so totally paralyzed by the mere whisper of death.

And the truly shitty part is that I can't do anything about it. When they get back from their trip, my grandparents will practically be tossing me out the door. I've been doing resume overtime hoping someone, anyone will hire me. Or even give me a courtesy call to say that they're not interested. Seriously, who do you have to blow to get a damn job in this town? Cause I'll do it. I'll get on my knees right now, mouth wide open if it will help (I want to blow to get a job, not blow for a job... so prostitution is out).

Everybody I know is here. All my friends, I mean. I was one of those people who left town after high school graduation and tried to keep in touch with my hometown friends in a very half-assed way. Those people were ones I knew for years and years (one since I was three, one since I was five and the rest from fifth grade). I still feel bad for leaving them behind. I love them all. And of course, I always am meaning to write, but never quite get to it. When my mind wanders to them , it never stays there long enough to pick up a pencil or turn on the computer. Then there's my best friend from back then. Unlike all the others, I fought to keep her in my life. I put paper to pen and typed long e-mails every chance I could. And we still fell out of touch. Hell, I don't even know if she still exists. She just disappeared after the summer of my sophomore year. A beautiful letter, sweet gift and poof. We knew each other longer than we knew our sisters.

I suppose this is the reason I dread going back to South Georgia. The hotel vacancy was filled. This one, we are sisters (from different mothers and fathers). She knows me the way my grandfather plays blackjack. So well. It will suck to that kind of a friend again vanish from my life. Especially since this one is closer than the others. It worries me that I might be lost in the growing shuffle of her life. Or that she will be lost in my laziness, good intentions never fulfilled. I'm quite sure that I will lose my other friends (one is already leaving disappearing), like I lost all those other friends from high school.

Of course, if God smiles upon me and decides to bless me with a job, all this worrying will, thankfully, be for nothing.

More likely, in a little more than a week I will disappear. There will be no more independent movie theaters, midnight Krispy Kreme runs, late night overly-dramatic discussions, no anything mildly interesting (interesting is against the city rules). At least I'll have satellite tv.

Hello HBO, goodbye humanity.

Donkey Kong vs Shakespeare

2004-06-10T00:05:00.000-04:00

**Warning: completely random post with no real point. Only the brave and patient should read on.**

I was at Game Stop yesterday (for those of you who think yourself too mature to mess around with video games, it's a store where you can buy and sell used/new games and other accessories) buying an extra controller for my Gamecube. No PS2 for me, thank you very much. I love my Mario and Luigi and Link, everything else I can pretty much take or leave. Anyway, back to the story, I was in this store waiting in line behind a guy trying to sell all of his classic NES games (Super Mario Brothers 1-3, DK, etc.), highly irritated, mind you, because I was in a hurry and he was arguing at great length with the cashier. It seems that he wasn't getting top dollar amount for his used games and this made him angry. "They are classics! This was one of the first Super Mario Brothers on the market, man! It's worth more than four bucks!" Of course, the cashier explained he could do nothing about the prices and the man reluctantly took the cash because he "needed it more than they game," but nor without a long, nostalgic look back towards his newly liberated friends. This reminded me of a conversation my high school friends Josh and Shep had about videogames and classic literature.

We were in the first few months of tenth grade (if memory serves) and the two of them were sitting in Bio arguing with each other. This wasn't a new pastime and since our teacher was off at some karate tournament, they were a little bit freer with their conversation than they would have been if he were there. When we finished our work we were permitted to speak softly to those around me. Josh and Shep sat behind me. Mario 64 had been released a couple of months earlier and Shep, after beating the game, had loaned to to Josh. Which was probably a bad idea since Shep had never returned Josh's favorite book, Slaughterhouse 5, which he reminded Shep of every second of every day in the hopes of forcing him to return the book (this never worked, as far as I know, Shep still has the book). Josh had lent the game to one of our other friends, Ronnie, who was notorious for never returning anything. Shep was pissed, it was his (relatively) new game and Josh didn't ask him if it was okay to lend to Ronnie. Josh, thinking of his precious hardback, said "It's only a stupid video game. It's not like it's Vonnegut." And the flood games opened. Shep took serious offense with the comment and the two began arguing about if there could be a comparison between videogames and literature.

Most people would side with Josh's argument about how a great piece of writing would always be worth more than a videogame. How crazy do you have to be to compare Mario with Achilles, a Musketeer, Hawkeye or any other literary hero? Shep made the point that the only reason a first-edition of Joyce is worth more than the original Atari version of Donkey Kong is because it's been around longer and it's widely acceptable to be a book freak and not that acceptable to be a gaming freak. If reading is your hobby, you're considered to be educating yourself; if you play videogames most people automatically see you as someone who is a little less intelligent as they are. Shep said that Super Mario Brothers should be worth just as much as Shakespeare since both are equally as imaginative and impressive. I don't know if I would go that far. And I don't even like Shakespeare that much.

But you have to wonder if that guy's first edition, classic Legend of Zelda game was worth as much as one of the first copies of Slaughterhouse Five, would it be socially acceptable to be an over-forty X-Box owner? Or would you still be the lame-o next door who would rather stare at the tv and play Halo than enlighten himself by reading War and Peace?

The Great Uncle Jeff or What Is It About Family?

2004-06-03T17:30:00.000-04:00

When I say family, I mean those who are not my parents. I mean my aunt, uncle, cousins, and grandparents. More specifically I mean my father's side of the family. The normal family. And this week the most annoying family on this side of the universe.

Being unemployed and unwilling to move back to the super small town I'm from, I have taken up temporary residence with my grandparents. Both are very kind, reasonable, generous people and I love them dearly, but damn. Living with them sucks. There are many reasons why is sucks, but here are just a few: instead of getting the room downstairs (away from them and with a separate entrance) I have the one next-door to my grandma and down the hall from my grandpa (his severe snoring has kept them in separate bed for a while), no more fun stuff to eat and lots of veggies, no HBO as if I paid for it they would surely claim it a waste of money, scrutiny of all financial transactions, job hunt and loan consolidation concerns, and the same story repeated one million times.

And out of all the things that irritate me about living with them, it's the last one I hate the most. Because some of the stories are long. And the rest are really fucking long. And half of them have to do with the wunderkinds (i.e. my cousins).

I love my cousins, Elizabeth (5) and Katherine (6). They're clever, sweet children and they love spending time with me. What I don't like about them is their father. My Uncle Jeff. He's eight years younger than my father and the favorite son (denied by my grandmother, but seems to be the truth). They love my dad, don't get me wrong, but he was a handful growing up. "So smart, but so lazy.." as my grandmother would say. He spent most of his young years in boarding school while my grandfather was in the army and my grandmother tended to Laurel (my dad's sister who died of cancer at 8). Then Jeff came around. And Jeff was the most well-behaved, intelligent child on Earth.

And because Jeff is so perfect (he can do anything, don't you know?), his children are the same. Which makes it impossible to stand to hear anything my grandmother says about them because not only is it sugared with perfection, iced with genius, but it will be repeated twenty more times. I'll confess that I still am bitter that as a child my grandparents were, on the whole, uninterested in playing with my sister and I, so we were sent to a back room to play with each other while they both pay great attention to my smaller cousins. My grandma even went with them to Disney World. The place I didn't go to until taken by my Aunt Sonia (Jeff's wife) her mother when I was in fifth grade.

So, lucky me. I was living with the gparents when they decide to breeze through Atlanta before traveling to Hilton Head and their condo for the weekend. And if the (well-meaning) flack I was getting from grandparents wasn’t enough, I had to endure three days of it from my uncle and aunt. Who both told me I should go to GA Tech and major in technical writing when I was searching for colleges in high school. And since my creative writing degree hasn't gotten me anywhere, I got to listen to them, really my uncle, tell me that I should've gone to Tech. Now that I'm older, I think my disdain for him is a bit more obvious than it used to be. Truthfully, I used to like him a great deal... but that was before he said I looked pregnant in my Easter dress when I was seven years old. So after the college lecture, he tried to be very nice to me.

I've also realized that my cousin Katherine (not Kate, she insists) is a bit of a bitch. After my grandmother had her read some story about Ireland and bells ("can you believe she can read that well"), we were entertained by some stories about her. One about her approaching two women smoking outside at a party and telling them that "smoking is a choice" and that they should stop. My grandmother thought it was darling. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that sound a tad bit bitchy?

But perhaps it's just me. After all, I'm just the spawn of the eldest; I'm no daughter of Jeff the Miraculous. We'll see. Sooner rather than later, since they come back to town next week.

i sat on jake gyllenhaal's face and disturbing discussions with nine year-old boys

2004-06-01T01:33:00.000-04:00

My life is sadder now than it was two months ago. Which I must say is a feat seeing as two months ago all I did was go to school, go to work, go to the movies and occasionally go out with friends. Now, upon graduating the number of friends still around has greatly decreased, I don't go to as many movies, I obviously don't go to class any more and I spend most of my time with the 9 year-old boys I take care of. The kids are great, but the longer I know them, the more comfortable they become with me and the more disturbed I become.

Case and point, I was watching two best friends, Nate and Jack one night while their parents went to a fundraiser. We are playing Monopoly. Jack and I have to constantly remind Nate when to go because he has been hypnotized by the tv. We're in the middle of the game, reminding Nate, yet again, that it is his turn and he should hurry.

"Nathan," Jack says in his slow, monotone voice, "It's your turn."

"I know, I know," Nathan replies, still staring at the tv screen.

"Then go!"

"I can't help, it I love the tv. I have to watch it."

"Well, if you love it so much, maybe you should marry it." This is the phrase that comes spewing from my mouth. Typical kid-speak.

The boy's giggle and then Nate goes on, "But if I marry the tv, how will I have children?"

"You would have sex with it," Jackson replies nonchalantly. Now the "to weird to talk about with a babysitter" alarm is going off in my head. Or maybe this is too weird to talk about with anybody.

"Those would be weird babies." Laughing.

"They would have tv heads and people bodies." More laughing.

"But wait," Nate stops to think, "I couldn't have sex with the tv. Because there's no hole."

I freak out, which just cause them to laugh harder, and then close the subject. Sure, I knew about sex with I was nine. My father checked out this cartoon from the video store when I was seven that explained the whole process to me. Cute little sperm in a top hat and tails dancing with an evening gown-clad egg. Hell, I remember being in third grade and there being a rumor that a student had sex in our elementary school library. But I would never, and I mean never, talk about it with anyone who wasn't my age. Especially my babysitter. That would be weird.

But apparently not weird for these kids. Shortly after I began to take care of Nate, he informed me that I had "big ones." I thought it was a one time thing, said to see the reaction he could get from me. But then a few weeks ago, Will, one of Nate's friends, informed us that the real meaning of the Outkast verse "I just want you in my caddy" was about having sex in the back of a car. Nathan then started to ask me about sex in certain movies. And then, the tv incident, followed by a weird conversation he, Jack and I had, which had originally started out with me talking about how much I liked Super Mario games and digressed into if I would marry and have children with Mario and Luigi if they were real.

All this leading up to the day that I sat on Jake Gyllenhaal's face.

We had planned to have a large water fight since it was summer and there was nothing better to do. Knowing that I would get soaked, I brought my sweats and a thick t-shirt for maximum coverage. Best not to take chances since the kids had been acting so weird lately. To make a long story short, Will said he could see where my bra was and I decided to zip my jacket up and dry. As I walked down the stairs, covered with puddles of water, I fell and broke my toe.

I'm injured, so we pack everything up, go inside and change. Nate's mother, who works out of her office at home, advises me to soak my foot in a pot of ice water for the swelling. I get the kids snacks and they start to play PS2. I make my way to the back room to watch them, sit down, and soak my foot. I place the pot down and plop onto the couch.

"I think you sat on that guy's face," Nate says.

"What?!" I'm thinking the worst.

Nate repeats himself. 'You sat on that guy's face."

I'm really confused now. "What do you mean by that, Nate?'"

Throwing his hands up in the air, he slides behind Jack and Will who are playing Lord of the Rings. He reaches underneath me and yanks out the GQ I bought with Jake Gyllenhaal on the cover.

"You were sitting on this guy." Nate hands me the magazine.

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Ohhhh." Thank God I had it wrong. I open the mag and begin to read. Nate retreats to his spot, sits down and then looks over at me.

"Why? What did you think I meant?"

I don't really have anything to say

2004-05-25T23:31:00.000-04:00

Which brings up the question-- why the hell am I posting something if I don't have something to say? I don't know, probably because I'm weird. Or because I really have nothing better to do with my time since I just graduated from college and am currently (and seemingly forever) jobless. I'm sure that one day soon, I will have much more to say, but until then, I'm off to watch a movie, frost a cake and try to figure out HTML. Yeah, I know that it's pathetic, but what do you expect from someone who stays glued to the television screen rather than the computer?