Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
huh?
I don't know what this is from, but I found it in a corner of my computer desktop. just thought I'd offer it up as a saturday tribute:
Thursday, July 24, 2008
love is for losers
I suppose it's always tragic when a love story falls apart. or in this case, a beanie-baby filled marriage crumbles under the weight of infidelity. but still, it is one of the funniest things I've read in a while, and I thank the internet for laying it at my feet like a drowned worm after a rainstorm:
http://nomarriage.com/ebay.html
http://nomarriage.com/ebay.html
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
what is the deal...
...with dudes sneezing into the inside of their elbows? who okayed this? all of the sudden, I see men catching their sneeze flecks inside the crooks of their arms. I guess it's a little better than sneezing into your hand and then rubbing it all over someone, but is it all that much? I mean, can't you just lean over and grab a kleenex? jeez.
...people thinking that just because they can't see something going on behind them, it means no one else can. note to you, dude in the elevator this morning, just because you can't see yourself reach behind and pick your underwear from deep within the crevice of your ass doesn't mean I can't see you do it. and one of the last things I want to see at 9 in the morning is someone's forefinger disappear up to the second knuckle into their own ass. or anyone else's for that matter.
...with people pronouncing plural words ending in "--es" as "ees". it started with a meeting three years ago where I heard "processes" pronounced "processees" and thought that was a semi-lame idiosyncracy. but now I'm hearing it all the time. it's as if we as a people aren't able to absorb more than one spelling rule at a time. as far as I know, you only say "ees" if the word already ends in "-is" and you have to change it to "-es" for the plural. you don't pronounce any word ending in "-es" as "-ees". just the other day I heard "practicees". ermf.
...people thinking that just because they can't see something going on behind them, it means no one else can. note to you, dude in the elevator this morning, just because you can't see yourself reach behind and pick your underwear from deep within the crevice of your ass doesn't mean I can't see you do it. and one of the last things I want to see at 9 in the morning is someone's forefinger disappear up to the second knuckle into their own ass. or anyone else's for that matter.
...with people pronouncing plural words ending in "--es" as "ees". it started with a meeting three years ago where I heard "processes" pronounced "processees" and thought that was a semi-lame idiosyncracy. but now I'm hearing it all the time. it's as if we as a people aren't able to absorb more than one spelling rule at a time. as far as I know, you only say "ees" if the word already ends in "-is" and you have to change it to "-es" for the plural. you don't pronounce any word ending in "-es" as "-ees". just the other day I heard "practicees". ermf.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
why getting your phd is like getting your hair done
"hey blondie!" is how bill greets me every time he sees me. and I have to admit it gives me a secret thrill.
it was only supposed to last a couple of months, for fun. but somehow it stuck, and sometimes I find myself forgetting that I'm not actually a blonde. I look in the mirror and I forget that if I don't go to my hair people every 6 weeks, I don't look anything like this.
sort of like grad school, actually. statistics, ha. the little thrill of seeing the look on my friends' faces--why in the world would you get a phd in statistics?--was enough to make the joke worthwhile. are you seriously moving to the east coast? made it fun to pack up and do it. but here I am, now forgetting the joke and starting to believe that actually, yes, this is my life.
besides, I like the way it looks:
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
why I hate flowers
it's because invariably, when someone gives you flowers, they're really trying to say one of the following:
12345 * I know you said you didn't want a corsage of white baby
12345 * roses but I'm a college sophomore taking a high schooler
12345 * to prom and I say you wear these white baby roses
12345 *
12345 * I brought you a $20 bouquet of flowers. so...ah....what
12345 * are my chances of...ah...you know...tonight?
12345 * I'm sorry I fucked up
12345 * I'm sorry I fucked up again
sigh. at least it's not prom season.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
hippie advice
the reason I don't listen to hippies is that they're so hyperbolic. everything is so amazing, so delightful, so awesome. this is especially true when it comes to their hippie treatments and cures. remedying everything from migraines to dry skin to cancer, these secret recipes are usually handed down from a friend of a friend of a friend who met some tribal healer during a climbing/walking/being tour of nepal/india/tibet and brought back the ancient secret to share with close friends of the modern world. a lot of the time, this ancient secret was brought back through customs, wrapped in several layers of socks and smelling suspiciously like bad pot. but, whatever.
so of course, when I first heard about the neti pot from a hippie friend, I acted all interested but immediately filed it away in my "riiiight" file. the thing is, I've suffered from allergies and sinus infections for most of my life. doctors have put me on all sorts of medications, and I've tried everything in the Allergy & Sinus aisle at the drugstore. none of it works, and so the thought of mixing up a tub of salt water solution and then hosing the inside of my nose with it every morning didn't seem all that promising. besides, all I could think of was that feeling you get when you're at the beach and you accidentally breathe in a wave of seawater. the way the inside of your head burns and is raw for hours afterwards.
but after I moved back here, my allergies and sinus infections flared up like never before. they were so bad they started triggering migraines, and entire months went by where I felt like I was looking out at the world through a grease-smeared lens with an arrow buried deep behind my eyes. and meanwhile, it seemed as if everyone was talking about how the neti pot had changed their lives. so the next time I walked by the hippie store, I picked one up.
it took me a couple of days to actually take it out of the box, but I finally mixed up my 1/4 teaspoon of kosher salt with warm water and tilted my head over the sink, with the spout of the pot firmly plugging my nostril.
and, voila! it is surprisingly easy to use. almost failproof. the water actually just flowed into my nose and out the other nostril. just like they said it would. no coughing or choking. yes, it did feel a little odd to feel water so close to my eyeballs. but not painful. like a bath. a salty one. for the inside of your head.
and now I've been doing it almost every day since, and it's been almost two months.
so, do I have some great turnaround story for you? living an allergy- and sinus infection- and migraine-free life? turning to the hippies for all the secrets of life?
hardly.
the moral of this story is, sometimes, you're just screwed with bad sinuses.
so of course, when I first heard about the neti pot from a hippie friend, I acted all interested but immediately filed it away in my "riiiight" file. the thing is, I've suffered from allergies and sinus infections for most of my life. doctors have put me on all sorts of medications, and I've tried everything in the Allergy & Sinus aisle at the drugstore. none of it works, and so the thought of mixing up a tub of salt water solution and then hosing the inside of my nose with it every morning didn't seem all that promising. besides, all I could think of was that feeling you get when you're at the beach and you accidentally breathe in a wave of seawater. the way the inside of your head burns and is raw for hours afterwards.
but after I moved back here, my allergies and sinus infections flared up like never before. they were so bad they started triggering migraines, and entire months went by where I felt like I was looking out at the world through a grease-smeared lens with an arrow buried deep behind my eyes. and meanwhile, it seemed as if everyone was talking about how the neti pot had changed their lives. so the next time I walked by the hippie store, I picked one up.
it took me a couple of days to actually take it out of the box, but I finally mixed up my 1/4 teaspoon of kosher salt with warm water and tilted my head over the sink, with the spout of the pot firmly plugging my nostril.
and, voila! it is surprisingly easy to use. almost failproof. the water actually just flowed into my nose and out the other nostril. just like they said it would. no coughing or choking. yes, it did feel a little odd to feel water so close to my eyeballs. but not painful. like a bath. a salty one. for the inside of your head.
and now I've been doing it almost every day since, and it's been almost two months.
so, do I have some great turnaround story for you? living an allergy- and sinus infection- and migraine-free life? turning to the hippies for all the secrets of life?
hardly.
the moral of this story is, sometimes, you're just screwed with bad sinuses.
Friday, July 4, 2008
the fourth...dimension
all my growing up, I waited in anticipation for the fourth of july to roll around, so I could wake up and park myself in front of the television for a 16-hour stint of the twilight zone marathon.
twice a year, on the fourth and on thanksgiving, channel 5 (ktla! home of the family film festival!) would run an 8am-to-midnight marathon of rod serling-hosted morality tales. be nice to your neighbors, even when under threat of alien control. think happy thoughts lest the neighbor boy turn you into a human jack-in-the-box. be vigilant in checking your walls for rips in the fabric of time and space. you know, the usual.
there were some that you'd see every year: the murderous chatty cathy, darren from bewitched and his day being able to hear people's thoughts, the nerdy book-loving banker at the end of the world, willoughby, "to serve man", all of the ones where you accidentally sell your soul to the devil only to have him cash it in at the worst time possible (pb, beware!)...
but there were always a few that I was never able to catch. my sister told me of one where the humans kill the alien bearing the gift of a cancer cure in a fit of humanness (that on the twilight zone always expresses itself in murder), and I waited around for years trying to catch it. I even doubted its existence, considering that by the time I left my parents' home (and its cable hookup), I'd taken it approximately 350 hours of marathon time. surely, I'd've caught it once?
you would think that, wouldn't you? but it wasn't until I bought myself Twilight Zone: The Complete Definitive Collection last year that it was confirmed--Season 3, Episode 97: The Gift. after all these years, I feel like burgess meredith's henry bemis. all the time in the world to luxuriate in all the piles and piles of episodes I've ever wanted. of course, now that I have it, I haven't even opened most of the DVDs. who has time for 156 segments? how do you choose which ones to watch?
thank god for the sci fi channel. it's 1.25 and I've already gotten in billy talking to his dead grandma, a colony face-off between martians and venutians in a diner, and several planes flying into the future/past. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that there's an alien walking into a mexican village with a notebook under his arm coming up.
Happy Fourth of July
twice a year, on the fourth and on thanksgiving, channel 5 (ktla! home of the family film festival!) would run an 8am-to-midnight marathon of rod serling-hosted morality tales. be nice to your neighbors, even when under threat of alien control. think happy thoughts lest the neighbor boy turn you into a human jack-in-the-box. be vigilant in checking your walls for rips in the fabric of time and space. you know, the usual.
there were some that you'd see every year: the murderous chatty cathy, darren from bewitched and his day being able to hear people's thoughts, the nerdy book-loving banker at the end of the world, willoughby, "to serve man", all of the ones where you accidentally sell your soul to the devil only to have him cash it in at the worst time possible (pb, beware!)...
but there were always a few that I was never able to catch. my sister told me of one where the humans kill the alien bearing the gift of a cancer cure in a fit of humanness (that on the twilight zone always expresses itself in murder), and I waited around for years trying to catch it. I even doubted its existence, considering that by the time I left my parents' home (and its cable hookup), I'd taken it approximately 350 hours of marathon time. surely, I'd've caught it once?
you would think that, wouldn't you? but it wasn't until I bought myself Twilight Zone: The Complete Definitive Collection last year that it was confirmed--Season 3, Episode 97: The Gift. after all these years, I feel like burgess meredith's henry bemis. all the time in the world to luxuriate in all the piles and piles of episodes I've ever wanted. of course, now that I have it, I haven't even opened most of the DVDs. who has time for 156 segments? how do you choose which ones to watch?
thank god for the sci fi channel. it's 1.25 and I've already gotten in billy talking to his dead grandma, a colony face-off between martians and venutians in a diner, and several planes flying into the future/past. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that there's an alien walking into a mexican village with a notebook under his arm coming up.
Happy Fourth of July Tuesday, July 1, 2008
dried up
it really just feels like there's nothing left to say. or rather, that there's nothing left in me worth saying. or maybe I'm just full up on things that aren't sayable?
what is this?
as my mind aimlessly ambles through time and space, I can sometimes feel a few brittle marbles clacking against each other:
are kate perry and zooey deschanel the same person?
does amy winehouse wear that beehive switch even when she's alone?
how can a gang of chumpsters like coldplay keep producing such great music?
is john mccain's cheek looking more swollen than before?
when did eating at the olive garden become the new "I shop at target" for celebrities?
what is this?
as my mind aimlessly ambles through time and space, I can sometimes feel a few brittle marbles clacking against each other:
are kate perry and zooey deschanel the same person?
does amy winehouse wear that beehive switch even when she's alone?
how can a gang of chumpsters like coldplay keep producing such great music?
is john mccain's cheek looking more swollen than before?
when did eating at the olive garden become the new "I shop at target" for celebrities?
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