I Could Never Go On Without You

Well, I think I am going to drop dead of exhaustion any second now. I don't think I've stopped being "on" for about a week, and if anything drains you it's having to be "on" for a week. Fuck.

-So Jess is in CA but with the grandparents as of this morning, they are taking her to San Diego and Palm Springs and I love having her here but it's been so nice today to pee with the door wide open and not worry about anything. I'll clean later. She'll be back tomorrow afternoon.

-My prospie got in, so did all of the prospies of my friends, which is nice. I hope they all come here and have selective amnesia about hearing current students say bad words while trying to recruit them.

-I just went out for "drinks" with "the girls." That's right. And it was actually really fucking fun and exactly what I needed after today, which was extremely long and included me nodding off in stats briefly, after which I reluctantly ingested enough caffeine to jolt myself into a state of jittery wide-eyed smileyness because there was no other chance of getting through the billion things I had to do

-I had a bunch of my friends and their prospectives over last weekend to watch the last episode of Sex and the City. It was really fucking fun. So much estrogen in one room. JD hid out in the other part of the house. Everyone reacted the same to each scene.

-Before the SatC party was the cocktail party thing sans cocktails. which i rocked Washerboard-style. Very uncharacteristic.

-I just played with my neighbor's puppy Rachel, who is part akita part australian shepherd or something, and is the most adorable thing ever. Plus she's "teething" so she was gnawing uselessly on my fingers. Goddammit she's cute.

-In talking with "the girls" tonight I realized just how nice it is to have other people in the same boat as you in physical proximity to you so you can go to Cheesecake Factory and gossip endlessly about other people and talking about stuff like we all go way back mostly because we all need the dynamic to keep oursleves sane and keep things in perspective. It makes me miss you girls in Indiana, but it's really nice to have something here. And kind of a relief.

-In particular, one of them and I have so much in common above and beyond our similar interests that I feel hugely comforted by talking to her. It's been awhile (a long ass while) since I felt that nearly-audible click in talking to someone, and it's reminding me of a part of myself I wasn't sure existed anymore. And that's a relief.

-Talking to a bunch of girls also helps me wrap my idiot brain around the idea of unregulated PMS including symptoms of minor depressive episodes, which is what I can more or less bank on having been dealing with, bewildered because it's a new thing for me, every few weeks. Sorry to those of you who caught the brunt of that. I still love you.

-I just flipped JD the bird.

-My advice to you: dont' wake up bleary-eyed and start snipping at your bed-hair because you forgot you were going to cut it the night before. At least, dont' snip anywhere near the face. Whoops.

-I have an unfathomably huge amount of work to do in the coming month. But I am still looking forward to some visits, even if coffee is pumping through my veins by the time you get here instead of blood. I don't mind.

-And here's my copy/pasted obligatory quizzle results. I thought they were surprisingly remorseless and bitchy...but I guess that would be about right. I think "brutal" fits better than "remorseless"


The Sudden Departure
Random Brutal Love Master (RBLMf)

Sweet. Dear. Loving. At Gate 18. Final call.

You've been in a lot of serious relationships. More than a few have ended ugly. Uglily. Whatever. Our guess is that you're a really fantastic girl who doesn't really know what she wants, and you've broken a few hearts as a result. You fall for people easily, and you enjoy the feeling of falling in love, but once you're there, either boredom or the old "grass is greener" syndrome sets in. The mind wanders, and with it goes the flesh. And then the toiletries. We know you're not the classic "love 'em and leave 'em" type, at least not in a purely sexual sense. You have too many serious bonding tendencies for that. But even though you're theoretically looking to settle down, you don't settle long on one person. "Serial monogamist" is probably something you hear a lot. "Emotionally loose" is another way to put it. To the poor guys eating your dust and sniffing your panties, it doesn't really make much difference. Of course, it's not really your fault that people get hurt. You have every right to move on when you choose.

Our Hands They Seek The End Of Afternoon

*My weekend with the prospectives went superbly, it seems I've developed a gift for not only being the best possible hostess but also for working the crowd at cocktail parties and making sure not only that the prospectives felt comfortable but also that they had a good time and could loosen up, not to mention saw every giddamn thing worth seeing in a 10 mile radius. I was shocked and proud of myself, you guys should be too. It's a lot easier being on this side of the whole shebang.

*That being said, I accidentally said "cunt" on front of one of them this afternoon while driving around. She went to a Lutheran high school. I felt/feel really really bad.

*Got my stats lab back that I'd anxiety attacked over, got 100%. Another one's due Thursday. Should get my other project back tomorrow, I'll let you know. Otherwise school stuff is good.

*The huge snooty mall sent me an expensive looking invite to a designer showcase, included in the invitation were three fake tattoos bearing the name of the center

*I will probably post a lot more about all this and the recencies of my life soon, for now I have to keeo it short because we're leaving in a few minutes to pick Jessica up from the airport, which is making me so happy I could burst. I am ecstatic to have a houseguest who will not only be low-maintenance but will drive me to and from campus and go to Disneyland with us. I'll probably be a weensie bit scarce thanks to her being here. Maybe next week.

*Let's get these chemical imblanaces figured out, right? Jenny why the crap haven't you called me yet I'm worrying constantly.

*Love you

Your Hands They Move Like Weights Over Me

*As JD drifted off to sleep last night he rolled toward me and mumbled, "roll over, I'm gonna put my junk in your trunk"

I thought that was sweet.

I Can't See Me Without You

I mean that literally. He literally shit his pants literally.
My mom always get that wrong; I've never understood what was confusing about it.
I am experiencing the worst menstrual cramps I have ever had. There's no midol in the house because normally I don't even have cramps so this is a real treat. Owwwwwww. Uggg. Ugggggg boots are not cool looking

This is my last day of gluttonous soap-opera-watching pajama-wearing laziness for a long time. Only plans on my agenda for today? Cleaning the apartment. Which I am starting....later. Which I am starting....almost now. Wait, Teresa just flew out a window. Later.

I forgot that something else I dislike is going to the financial aid office in the hopes of taking out lots and lots of loans on top of your "generous stipend" and having a snot-faced little girl tell you first that your FAFSA is filled out wrong, then that you're "fully funded" and thus not eligible for loans. Period. Excuse me, but I think they need to recalculate my estimated cost of attendance and account for the off-campus rent I'm paying. Because that's crap.

Also, I've had two songs, "With You" by Jessica Simpson and "All of Me" by evanescence in my head for the last three days, they just switch off and every time I rid myself of them I flip past mtv and the video is on and the cycle repeats.

They keep interrupting Passions to give us breaking news about the fairly heavy rainfall that is life-threatening and causing everyone to drive like morons. ah, california

What else. Nothing. Sigh. I want to rip my ovaries out myself.

There's Still Hope In You For Me

It's been a profoundly retarded day. Here is a list of things I hate. Hate. This is not an ordinal scale.

1.) People who will not take the extra, what, five miliseconds? to blend their makeup with their actual skin. I too am guilty of using the same foundation color all year round, but since I use it primarily for concealer (which does NOT hide dark circles, btw) I don't usually struggle with this most obvious of boo-boos. My advice: if you're slathering it all over yourself, check to see if you left that awful cheek-meets-jawbone line on your own face. Then, fix it. I think mostly I hated seeing this today because I have not seen it since, oh, seventh grade. Figure it out.

2.) I had a meeting today with a professor. This "meeting," as I was tricked into believing it was, involved me ripping the back page off 400 stapled packets, collating them into ABCD order, and stacking them. She left to have lunch with another professor after sitting down, explaining what needed to be done, acting like we would do it together, and then going, "actually, why don't you do this."

3.) It rained today. It started in the middle of the day, after I had already ridden my bike to campus. So, I rode the 2.5 miles home in a downpour, the only downpour I've witnessed since moving here, wearing (of course) a white shirt. And, of course, as soon as I sat on my bike my whole butt was soaked because the seat was wet. So to avoid pneumonia, I went straight into the shower when I got home. But my ears are aching from all the cold water dripping on me. Jeeze, that wasn't fun. But once I was soaked it was kind of fun to stop caring about puddles and getting dirty and I just hopped off my bike and rolled around in some mud

I was about to get rantily introspective but the urge passed. I think I'll just go cry irrationally or pour it into replying to emails instead.


I love you too, and all I ever wanted was for you to try.

I Haven't Missed You Yet

So it's 12:30 and I should be fast asleep but my mind won't stop racing and, unfortunately, all that's popping into it is macabre stuff. I keep closing my eyes only to have nightmarish flashes of scenes from the movie Red Dragon where the guy kills the family in their house and sticks pieces of mirrors in their eyes. I'm freaked out and convinced that someone is going to break in here and murder us in our sleep. And if I can stop thinking about that graphicness, and stop the incessant gory bloody preoccupation with death thoughts, I fixate on school deadlines and how unsurprised I should ultimately be to find out that things I'm turning in that I'm proud of are crap...there have been these two big assignments, the second of which is due EARLY tomorrow morning (which is why I should go to sleep and probably also why I can't go to sleep) that I have been revising and revising up to almost the instant they're due, and I'm so afraid there are huge mistakes I haven't caught yet, and won't notice, and will obliviously turn in. Usually shoddy writing is not such a problem; they pat me on the head and go "here's a nice A+, we want you to succeed" but in stats and methods there are actual point cutoffs and grades based on merit and quite frankly, it's really hard and I don't know how I'm going to do in either. I think my brain is working overtime trying to come up with any possible flaws in the methods project due tomorrow that I could potentially have time to fix before handing it in. I'm worried that a sudden idiot mistake on the stats lab from today will occur to me and I'll be plagued with disappointment for not having caught it before turning it in. Really, I understand that this is ridiculous, but such is the life of me when you're me. My heart is literally racing and I haven't had any caffeine in six hours but I'm still hyper awake and every noise and every weird fucking movement out of the corner of my eye is making me feel like I'm not alone with JD here....and it's wearing on my sanity.

anyway i'm just freaking out and scared, i get this way when JD starts snoring and I can't fall asleep (not because of the snoring, because of the crazy) probably there'll be an interesting nightmare to talk about on here soon.

It Feels So Much Lighter Since I Met You

I think I've been having a continuous panic attack for three days or so. I'm not sure that's possible. But if it is, I discovered it. Hahaha. I have so much stuff I absolutely need to be doing that's very important and needs to have a lot of time spent on it, and I can't stop playing on the internet and listening to Coldplay/Dave Matthews Band (they're interchangeable, right?) and engaing in all sorts of compulsive behaviors and heating my coffee up only to notice as soon as I go to drink it that it's cold again and then having to go heat it up again

I'm freaking out because I have two huge projects I need to be working on and I am not sure I can complete either one of them adequately. Fuck, fuck fuck. I can't concentrate no matter how much caffeine I ingest. I'm not entirely sure I'm going to survive through the end of March.

Is It Getting Better, Or Do You Feel The Same

This was the last weekend of me not having a houseguest (or guests!) until the end of the quarter. Yikes. I wouldn't change it for the world, though. I've been looking forward to seeing abunch of you for a really long time. This coming weekend, however, is the prospective visit weekend, which I am NOT looking forward to. I really don't think I have the capacity to be entertaining and witty for more than a couple hours. At least I get $50 for "incidentals." You can bet I'm spending that on myself if at all possible.

Tomorrow is a California "holiday" so much so that I don't have any meetings or classes to attend. whee. Have to pick someone up form the airport, which will be my home away from home for the next few weeks. I have so much school stuff I should be doing, like a huge stats lab and a huge methods project, but I can't seem to focus on anything. Plus I got a Cosmo in the mail today.

I would really like to drag my ass to the health center and get some stuff taken care of. However, the first time you go, you have to pay the whole year's deductible, which is like a hundred something dollars so I can't go right now.

The porn ballet was good. Lots of gay overtones, which was fine by me (dancers in perfect shape rolling around on top of each other? fine) but if the buzz in the bathroom I heard during intermission was any indication, Orange County's high society found it all "way too gay" for their tastes. I wouln't have brought my own kids to it, but not because of the gayness. Because of the fucking. And the unnecessary on-stage pants changing of the lead dancer. During which a camera flash went off. So you kindo f knew that that guy had come to an earlier show, been entranced by the side view of the seated naked dancer guy, and thought "I HAVE to come back later and get a picture of that magnificence"

People are, indeed, weird. I didn't like the way the old women in the bathroom were all eyeball fucking me, scanning for couture pieces or signs of plastic surgery while I waited in the extremely long line. I wanted to smile toothily and go, "at least I still have my youth, you cow," but would that really have done anything other than incite a riot? Probably no. Lots of audacious fur coats being paraded in the bathroom (for the record, no ordinary bathroom, many MANY mirrors) but I thought it was funny that there wasn't a VIP bathroom for women whose husbands were willing to pay extra to ensure that the fur wouldn't get dropped in someone else's pee. You could almost see the outrage on their faces as they came out of their teeny stalls.

And the girl sitting next to me decided she needed to leave the instant the curtain fell at the end, so rather than wait even for the first of the house lights to come up, she fumbled around on the ground for her things, making me think she was trying to steal my purse, and grabbed and held onto my ANKLE, as though she had mistaken it for something that belonged to her. I seriously almost kicked her in the face for her efforts.

I keep seeing things moving out of the corners of my eyes only to look and see nothing there. I'm cold all the time these days. JD heard something about there being two different kinds of fat cells, with two differing sensitivities to cold, and in warmer climates the ones that freak out more when it's cold get bigger or something.

God, I have absolutely nothing to say. Sis, I've been trying to call you. Call me sometime if it's convenient

Wake Up My Sleepy Friend

So that link Chris gave me makes me instantaneously happy every time I click on it. Fucking awesome.

Happy 25th Birthday Mike Lewis!

I wish I could motivate myself to get off my ass and clean the apartment or do something productive...it's not like i don't have a shit load of school stuff I should do. I stayed up really late last night and watched Unfaithful and Monster's Ball on HBO, two movies I always wanted to see but sadly wasn't very impressed with. Oh well. I don't understand why Halle got an oscar, quite frankly.

Next weekend I am housing one of the prospective students. I am already freaking out about it, can you imagine me trying to be nice and chatty and entertaining for three straight days? Hmm? Yeah hilarious.

Celeste, your'e funny.

I had a dream this morning that I was just about to have a baby. God, I never want to go through childbirth.

Oh so tomorrow we're going to see this "porn ballet."
It's a ballet called Nijinsky, which I think I had heard of, done by the Hamburg Ballet, which is a big deal. JD told me that all the old ladies are calling to cancel their tickets for it becuase it's so "racy." I can't wait, a porn ballet on Valentine's Day, it's perfect.

I intentionally broke off all the rest of my fingernails and then glued them onto the wrong fingers just to gross Raedy and Jenny out.

"I'm Orange Peel Head, Raaaaaahhhr"

Two things:

I updated my fotoblog.

Go here for the happiest thing I've ever seen. Thanks, Chris!

The Glove Compartment Isn't Accurately Named

So JD made me a cd recently and put a Death Cab For Cutie song on it, which I adore, called Title and Registration. Today's post will be something of an homage to that song, which details some heartbroken guy looking through his glove compartment and finding all these things he'd forgotten about. So, I will post my favorite lyrics from the song and then a comprehensive list of all the shit in my glove compartment in my car; I hope you all take the opportunity to reflect on your own glove compartments, either in this comments section or on your own blogs. Or even anonymously, if you so choose.

(I feel so Tim Lockridge right now)

Because it's too important
To stay the way it's been
There's no blame
For how our love did slowly fade
Now that it's gone
it's like it wasn't there at all
And here I rest
where disappointment and regret
collide
Lying awake at night

Hmmm. something about that really doesn't translate to being typed out. Go find the song and listen to it for yourself. It didn't make the recent round of comp cds, sirry

Here's the list:

* Scribbled directions from here to JD's grandparents' house in Prescott Valley
* A rusted "Ralph Nader for president" button
* A bumper sticker that reads, "Philosophy majors do it with forethought."
* A bumper sticker that reads, "Physics majors do it at the speed of light."
* A fat envelope with all my important car-related documents, including 6 expired registrations and 3 speeding tickets receipts.
* A Saturn used car warrnty information booklet
* A 1990-edition map of Indiana
* A hallmark card that reads, "kick some butt, kick some butt, kick some butt" on the front from Melissa that I think was given to me right before marching band state finals my senior year, when I had a very stress-inducing and oft-fucked up sabre solo (I nailed it absolutely perfectly at state)
* A "mobile" phone that weighs about ten pounds, circa 1984, with cigarrette lighter plug in battery (my cigarrette lighter hasn't worked in years, and I have never used that phone)
* One polaroid photo circa 1997 of me and Jarrod (who has a bowl haircut and is wearing a shirt that reads, "meat is fun") on my mom's couch in our old house in Newburgh.
* One photo circa 1998 of Nick, shirtless with bleached spiky hair, licking a giant subwoofer in his bedroom, complete with visible posters of Stargate and a giant cutout of whatever that action movie with Chow-Yun-Fat and Mira Sorvino was called.
* One photo circa 2000 of Keith taking a photo of himself

so as you see, this is hilarious. What's in YOUR glove compartment?!?

Someday, Somehow, We're Gonna Make It Alright But Not Right Now

Hahahahahaha. Inspirational Nickelback lyrics as post title. They (nickelback) always remind me of my pseudo-friend Lindsay from IU a few years ago who was a big big whore but really amusing to hang out with on occasion. Mostly she was just a whore and a girl I worked with. But I went with her to get her initials tattooed on her lower back and despite my pleading with her NOT to get them in full-license-plate-airbrushing-looking-colors (blue, purple, and pink), there it was and remains to this day. She's the girl who wore latex paint (just latex paint) out to clubs.

Unsolved mysteries is on, it's fabulous. I love this show.

I made the mistake of hinting to a professor today that I am "not all that busy" because it's the truth, and she offered me my choice of several fantastic projects to throw myself into. Awesome. I will probably continue to take on projects until I explode

School is trying to say that I made $19,000 in three months of 2003. Yeah, NO. No fucking WAY. Fucking bullshit.

Yeah I don't have anything to say. Instead, I'll go say it anonymously

Don't You Want To Know How We Keep Starting Fires?

Aww, thanks Ashleigh and Raedy for noticing the passing of a milestone in No Big Deal Land. Not that 5 years isn't a big deal, it just doesn't feel like a big deal. Maybe the lack of presents is what made it seem totally unmomentous. Haha.

The thing is, I don't have a terminal goal. I don't have a certain number of years that I aim to reach so I can end the relationship and congratulate myself on reaching the goal. I don't have anything to prove to anyone other than perhaps myself, so it just felt like another day. Add to that my conviction that JD and I will never be the type of couple who points to sheer length of time spent together to rationalize staying that way if it's bad, or to reaching this-or-that wedding anniversary in order to feel like we gave it an "honest try" or anything, and I suspect that the things that Should matter to us Do matter, that we have our heads screwed on straight, we both know how the other feels about us, we're both realistic as to the human limitations of what one person can give or endure for another, and there's no doubt in either of our minds that We Are Supposed To be together in some sense. It's just good, and I think if it ever stopped being good we would both survive just fine. And things are great, I've never felt so lucky or so thoroughly happy or supported or cared about, yada yada....and the coolest thing is that it's easy; we never have to work all that hard at it.

(knocks on wood)

And in response to all the moms who nagged me all weekend about getting married: pbbbttttt
No, but yet and thus seriously hahaha

Seriously, i'm not married or engaged because i don't want to be. I have a good thing going, and no offense to those of you who are married, are thinking abotu getting married, are betrothed, are being auctioned by pirates into marriage, etc. but I just don't, right now, see the point. I have no problem and no moral reservations about not being made "an honest woman" (cause let's be realistic; marriage isnt' going to do that for me, teehee), not being the purchased cow blah blah milk free yeah yeah I give it away so the fuck what

So enough boring moosh moosh, you say? Tell us about your weekend, you say? Certainement:

Friday went to California Adventure (across form disneyland proper) with JD and my friend J....it was ok, nothing too cool happened.
Saturday JD got free tickets through his 2nd job for us to go see a jazz group of BADASS musicians do a tribute to Ray Brown, that was AWESOME and the highlight was a drummer who played a SOLO rendition of "caravan" (jazz standard) on his drumset and various body parts....good god that was amazing. He was so fucking good. they all were, especially that guy though....and the bass players JD was creaming his pants about too.

Turns out Jd gets free tix to pretty much whatever comes there so we're going to abuse it and see all the broadway stuff that rolls through, like the Producers, Lion King, RENT (i still haven't ever seen it), etc. in the next year or so....not to mention Porn Ballet we're going to on V-Day, teehee. More on porn ballet later

So then for our grand anniversary plans we went and did a bunch of prototypical Liz and JD stuff: went to a mall where I overdosed on new Deery-Lou items, ate burritos, went to target, ate indian food, went to disneyland

And it was just magical.

That's about it, oh I do have another liz is a moron story:
I was brushing my teeth (Raedy this one's for you!) and scrubbing at my tongue with the brush, and it turned accidentally and slid to the back of my throat and gagged me and I threw up. Yeah I deepthroated my toothbrush. And then the exterminator walked in no just teasing

I can't think of what else I was wanting to talk about. Oh I might start a secret blog and I was thinking it would be fun to give access (to posting) to anyone who might want to go in on it. I think it would be funny. Anyway more on that as I hash it out, heh

Get The Dick Out Of Your Ear And Listen To What I Have To Say

1.) Because it has been brought to my attention via my Sitemeter detective skills and also via my cell phone, I should make something clear: I was worried about those mad libs not because I thought they said shitty things specifically about Keith and Wendi, but because I know that my (and let's not forget who else was playing mad libs with me...) choice of adjective or adverb or plural nouns, etc. in any given instance would have been quite vulgar and obscene. So then anyone's name that got used would have a mad lib that read something like:

Raedy pooped on her poopy poop poop face.

And more than anything, I was concerned and embarrassed for myself because I couldn't remember what the mad libs said aside from knowing they were childish. And everyone can rest assured that there was nothing in the book that had anything to do with anyone by name, nor should there have been in the first place, I was just afraid that instead of me and JD using each other's names for everything we would have gotten bored and "branched out" a little. Not so, not shoes.

2.) It bothered me so much to have no fingernail on my fourth finger that I dug it out of the trash and glued it back on. Is that gross? Jenny seemed to think it was gross. I guess it is. But now I feel like a whole person again

3.) ashleigh has a hot date coming up Sunday. with a HOT guy. ashleigh's a fox. I'm so glad I made out with her in high school. Mwah, lovies ashpee. wish her luck. I guess that means you have to send me an anniversary card AND ashleigh a good luck on your date card. sucks to be you guys, pbbbt

If You're Going To Be So Mean Why The Hell Did You Spend The Night In The First Place?

Here is a (non-exhaustive) list of things that are annoying me:

*Every soap opera who has or ever had James E. Reilly as head writer has now incorporated a really irritating fantasy scene where various characters act out scenes from The Osbournes and someone does the worst ozzy impression i've ever seen. And yeah, each time i see one it's The Worst I've Ever Seen.

*There are new commercials for a "low-dose" birth control pill. Explain to me why this is desirable...they sure don't get around to explaining it on the commercials.

*JD and I were horsing around a week or so ago and I bent over to grab something out of my bag and he came up behind me and, predictably, grabbed my hips and rammed his pelvis against my butt. This would've been funny except my head banged into the wall and my ring fingernail bent and split about half an inch below the quick. That was super painful, but then since it only broke halfway across I couldn't bring myself to rip it off since it was going to hurt like a bitch to do, so I glued it back on. And that worked fine until today when I was in a rush to get out of the house and it popped off. And even THAT is not annoying, it's the fact that I never got very good at typing in home row and I've always hunted and pecked and I am just right now noticing how much i used the side of that fourth fingernail to type the whole left side of the keyboard, and i keep missing keys and there's something unpleasant about the keyboard touching the side of my finger where there used to be a fingernail...it's like scratching on a chalkboard every time.

*I woke up bright and early at 10:30 this morning and remembered that the exterminator was coming at some undetermined time today so I was running around in my t-shirt and panties trying to get enough shit together that I could jump in the shower and then leave for a couple hours after he was finished and have stuff to do, and he of course came right then. so then we had this awkward conversation:

Him: Hi, I'm the WHOA nice undies, lady
Me: Yeah yeah
Him: So, no class today?
Me: No
Him: Just the baseboards, huh?
Me: Yeah but can you give me like 2 minutes to get some stuff together?
Him: well, what do you need to do?
Me: Uh, put clothes on?
Him: OK, as long as you didn't want to take a shower, because I have people who wanna take a shower first sometimes.
Me: no, i need one but I'll wait
Him: Ok
(then I run around pulling clothes on and throwing shit in a backpack and he starts spraying the stuff anyway)
Me: it'll just be like 10 seconds
Him: welp, i'm all finished, just lock up when you go and don't come back for two hours
Me: uh, thanks
Him: Yup

See, the annoying thing is that neither he nor my apartment complex felt like giving me even a ROUGH estimate of what time he would arrive, or what time after which it would be safe to go inside, etc.
So yet another dude gets an eyefull. Hey, at least I was wearing my cute birthday panties that Raedy got me that say Saggitarius spelled wrong on the front.

Why am I blogging so often these days? A. I think I'm hilarious and every time I think of somethign that makes me laugh I feel obligated to share it. B. I intend to get a lucrative book deal out of this thing at some point

I really should think up some alternate careers for myself.

Like taking a shower, which is at the top of my list of Things I'm Going to Do Now

Wanna Fuck? J/K. Do you, though?

If you guys don't start commenting in my goddamn comments section like you all pinky swore to me on your souls that you would, I will take the comment section down. I MEAN IT.

Nothing Like Harsh Reality

SO, I don't know if you guys have a computer lab guy that is supposed to troubleshoot and help out in the grad student computer lab where YOU'RE from, but believe me when I say that our requisite fat-ass is one surly motherfucker. I have been warned countless times not to piss him off or he will make my whole grad career a living hell, but it is still repulsive to me to giggle helplessly when I need him to answer a question and bat my eyelashes at him. However, NOT doing this little song-and-dance routine with him only leads to more headaches. Before you will understand how stupid this is, though, you need to know that this lab has like 40 computers in it, is pretty big, and USUALLY his only job is to refill the paper tray in the printer when it runs out. This is his job and not left to the grad students who use the lab because there is a big snotty note taped to the printer that says "Do NOT TOUCH this printer for ANY REASON! NOT EVEN TO FILL PAPER! A $300 TONER CARTRIDGE HAS ALREADY BEEN BROKEN BECAUSE OF SOMEONE TOUCHING THIS WITHOUT PERMISSION!!!" Otherwise, he just yells at you for having a coke in the lab, or spends almost all of his time crossing his name off the whiteboard hanging outside the computer geek office and writing "out for lunch" next to it. Have you guys ever seen that stupid SNL Jimmy Fallon sketch where he's the surly socially inept computer guy and he'll be like, "MOVE!" yeah think way surlier and you've got my guy. Thusly, I present the appalling things I have seen him do in the past two weeks:

A TA for my stats class was trying to print out that day's lab beforehand so she could have it to read from as she explained the lab to us. It wasn't printing, and I've found that you have to be at the right computer at the right time in order for it to print your shit. Therefore, I just move around until I find one that prints. I don't know why this is. SO my stuff was printing, hers wasn't, and she went to find the computer guy to ask why not. He huffed in, she explained what was wrong and then asked him how to fix it, to which he replied, "well, if I try to explain that to you now, I won't get a lunch break today." and just walked out. He was totally shitty to her, also

I have heard that he likes to answer "how do I do _____" questions with, "well, if I had been here ten years ago, this wouldn't be a problem" veeeeeerrrry helpful

today my friend andrew was trying to print and having the same problem as the TA from above. Computer guy took one look at Andrew's desktop and announced that it was only printing the top page becasue that's all there was on Andrew's disc to print

Not so, not shoes. But instead of trying to help, he exaggeratedly slowly told andrew to rebooooooooot his computer, yeaaaaaaah, now siiiiiiign baaaaaaack innnnnn, now click that onccccee then andrew double clicks it on accident, like any normal person would to open a program on a windows computer, and computer guy starts screaming at him for clicking twice when he said to do it once, as though THAT was why his shit wasn't printing. And then he went so far as to accuse Andrew of messing it up by clicking too many times on it, and THAT was his explanation for why it wouldn't print.

I was laughing my ass off. He is SO shitty even if you're trying to be nice to him. Ditto (hahaha, oh god I'm hilarious...get it? get it?) for the woman in the copy room.

Why do they hire key support staff to make my life harder than it needs to be? Bulllshit on a stick

Also, I got roped in to promising that I will house a prospective undergrad at the end of the month. Which is fine by me except I will take it personally if they choose not to come here after having hung out with me for a weekend. And I will not be surprised

Oh good gravy I have to go to a job talk

But I Always Wear Pasties Underneath My Bras

I just remorselessly killed an entire population of ant invaders who decided they were going to spill over from our downstairs neighbors' apartment, which I can only guess is full of ants floor to ceiling, and come up through some tiny crack into JD's room's door frame and then march into the kitchen and disappear under the dishwasher. Ugh. Goddammit. I have no problem with insects until/unless they are in huge swarming groups and in my house.

God, I'm starving but that's too gross...god, I had to spray some of those fuckers like eighteen times with the windex bottle before they stopped twitching. Maybe not the best way to kill ants, but it was a quick fix until we can devise more pinky and the brain-esque ways to rid oursleves of them

For now, it's safe to say that this is also our neighbors' fault. God, they are so lame.

In other news:

I love that Mike L has updated his blog.
I also love that Mike M is reinstating his blog.
I love that you guys like your comp cds

I think I'm going to go fight down the bile

I'm Not Coming Out Until This Is All Over

Fourth of July: A Mad Lib

Every year on the 69th of Fucktober, we celebrate the Fourth of July. This holiday commemorates the birth of our slutty buttsluts. Many whoracious citizens observe Independence Fuckfest by hanging their balls from a window or by running them up a long, hard pole. Most sluts spend this holiday at home with family and more sluts or visit national privates or lame beaches. Food as American as apple hot dogs, hamburgers, and corn on the tooth are traditional holiday pug. And in the evening, there are displays of handjobs, such as Roman Blowjobs, shooting penises, and fake rockets which totally orgasm the sky. a word of caution: Do not use fake orgasms unless you are supervised by a knowledgeable fucker.

Science Lab: A Mad Lib

Once a week, we have a science laboratory class, and we get to do snarky experiments with boogers and mice. Our teacher, Ms. Beyonce, shows us how to dissect shoes. First, we take out the internal eyelashes and cars and draw pictures of them in our notebooks. We have to work quickly or else we'll make a mess. We also learn to use chemicals to make old things like inexpensive house mexicans and deodorizers that make a picture smell like a stage. Last week, we had a pretty accident in the lab. Liz mixed some borax with pita bread and added some pee and the mixture exploded and blew two boogers through the roof. So now our teacher makes us all wear safety socks during science class.

Letter of Recommendation: A Mad Lib

Dear Director:
I would like to recommend my lover, JD, for the job of assistant cunt licker in your slut camp. He has just graduated from oral sex school and has a degree in licking. He has experience teaching children how to play tag. he is ambitious and horny. During school vacations, he used to work delivering for Orgasms, our neighborhood orgasm store. He is a loyal and thorough person and will make a very skilled counselor because he will work like a Fuckbeast and he is smart as an owl. He is also as honest as the dick is long. I promise you that this horny fucker will make a very fucky counselor for your fuck place.


*****
So, as you can see, it would have been inappropriate of me to mail these particular mad libs. I think the Letter of Recommendation takes the inappropriateness cake, so I will probably stop posting them unless I find another hysterically funny one or you all stage an uprising protest thing in my comments to bring them back. Which I cannot imagine happening, but y'know.

I consider my conscience erased eased.

Celeste, I am in a PhD program and while they claim they do not offer a terminal masters, they will let you get one along the way...meaning you can get it and then split if you really hate the program, but they don't encourage that. This program is the next 5-6 years at least and the masters would be after the end of next year. I think you should absolutely go to grad school and if you can find a place that lets you do a joint undergrad/masters (or does IU do that?!) it's a great idea....you can always get into a PhD program once you have a masters, and while they force you to take all their required classes you'll have a leg up on everyone else, and it'll be awesome!

Grad school in general, not that I don't bitch about it enough on here for you to have gathered this, but grad school is hard and intense and it took me until almost right now to feel like I have a niche here. But that could be a billion transition things, not school itself....California is another world, grad school is about as radical as going from high school to college but this time I really noticed/felt/was acutely aware of the lack of structure and the fact that no one is going to say shit to you if you just stop keeping on top of things, no one is going to hold your hand or even tell you what you should be doing, if you get confused it's your job to ask and make sure you're completing things on time...etc. But with all that freedom comes, fantastically, the ability to do and work on whatever the hell you want....it's time consuming to be doing research right now and taking classes, and next year I'll be TAing AND taking classes AND doing my own stuff, but everyone swears the first year is the hardest and as of yet I haven't seen shit from grad school that I can't handle. My friend (who I will just call "B" for anonymity's sake) B said it best Monday when she was like, "it's just grad school. I mean, I want to be here, but I'll never kill myself over this and if I hate it I figure I have at least two options: I can get a job at Hallmark or I can go get boobs and work at Hooters."

I think as long as you keep things in perspective like Raedy and I try to by laughing idiotically at things that are not necessarily funny to people who are not constantly on the verge of a breakdown, you will be totally fine

and i make it sound awful, but really it's cool, they're fucking paying me to go to school for crying out loud, and it's all stuff I'm interested in and it's a really cool opportunity to live in southern california for a few years and work with all these famous people and do actual creative productive original stuff

Don't get me on my "why developmental research is the closest thing to absolute truth" soapbox

But yeah, hell yes continue on in school, it's a great idea. I'm sure chris is reading this and choking down bile, but grad school actually encourages you and wants you to do well, where I think law school more tries to discourage you from finishing.....i could be wrong, but it's a really supportive environment.

Anyway, yeah. Just, you know, keep whatever you're doing in perspective. It's not the end of the world if it doesn't work out, now or ever, but I'm sure you'll get in somewhere cool and be totally happy....good luck! applying is really stressful but it's so much fun once you start hearing back from places:)

What else....I took my first stats test this morning, I'm pretty sure it will follow in the grand tradition of Every Test I Take and have to eat itself in shame once it's graded. Take that, you fucking mean of the sampling distribution of the mean! BLA-DOW

Yeah I am clearly procrastinating. Reading calling me. shit balls, man, shit balls.

Mike M don't quit your blog! It's amusing!

World's Greatest Word Game Volume One

Penance being done:

What I Did Last Summer: A Mad Lib

Last summer, my father and mother took me and my older toothbrush on a trip to California, which is a very sweaty state with very smelly weather. Northern California has many vineyards where they raise grapes to make ejaculate. Many old nipples go to southern California to retire and raise fish or grow oysters. There are big factories in California like Mobit the employ thousands of skilled buttcheeks to make 250-seat virgins for major airlines. Californians are politically sterile. And they are generally very horny people who like to fart in the sun and swim in pineapple juice. And when you say goodbye to California natives, they always reply, "have a nice cunt."

The Environment: A Mad Lib

Today, many scientists and college farts tell us that we are farting the atmosphere and farting the water all over the world. In fact, in about farty years, the air will be eighty percent fart-smelly because we are cutting down all of the farts in the Brazillian fart forest. Here in the United States, many manufacturers of toxic things like farts or more farts take their waste material and dump it into the ocean or in Fartville. We often have to close beaches and keep people from going into the wet farts because it is so polluted. But there are some farty things you can do to help protect our environment. You can write farty letters to your congressperson. You can also recycle farts. With just a bit of effort, all farts can help to make our planet farty and fartish again.

How To Get A Job After School: A Mad Lib

If you are over 8 years old, you can get a whorish job working for one of the farts in the neighborhood. Here are some tips on getting an after-school job.
1. Try not to smell like brussel sprouts or a puggle.
2. Have good posture. Pretend a string is tied to the top of your Buh-hole and keep your horse straight.
3. Be polite. Whenever an employer asks you anything, always say, "Mo-ther!"
4. Don't wear blue jeans that are more than 14 years old, and don't wear anything with sandwich stains on it.
5. Work hard. Remember, the captains of industry like Frank Sinatra and Kelly Clarkson all started at the bottom and became rich by tootling night and day.

That's enough for now. I will continue posting these lame fucking mad libs until my conscience is eased.

Making A Case For Blind Optimism

So, I know some of you have gnawed away all of your cuticles waiting to hear the dramatic conclusion to my hilarious karmic retribution Mad Lib story. Thusly, Here It Is:

I panicked all day Saturday once I realized what I'd done but when JD came home he pointed out that maybe the mailboxes place didn't have UPS come pick the package up right on Saturday. They're closed Sunday (I know this for a fact, I made him drive by that night) and opened at 8am this morning. So, I called them at 8:01 and the same guy who mailed my package answered. I am sure I sounded frantic and asked if there was any chance in hell that my package had not left yet. He replied that UPS wouldn't pick it up until 4:00 today, and yes it was still there. So I about creamed my pants when he said that, and asked him to hold it and I would by instantaneously to remedy the situation. He did not sound the slightest bit surprised.

So I go there an hour ago and I walk in and both the guys are working, and the one I have NOT talked to during this whole debacle grins at me and says "good morning" very smarmily and I say, "hi, I'm.." and he interrupts with "the box, right?"

And I say yeah and he gets it and the other guy is helping another customer and saying, "yeah I remember this box, you said you didnt' even LIKE him that much" and then I felt obligated to explain to them what I needed to get in the box for, and I think they thought it was the most entrtaining thing ever.

So guy #2 cuts the box open, I dig through all the crap and find my stupid little mad libs, retrieve them and realize the guy has been standing over me and the box eagle-eyed watching, like he expects me to pull a lacy pair of panties out and stuff them in my backpack or something. So I get them and feel like I need to explain but he beats me to it, going, "oh did you write mean stuff about him in there?" and I have to say yes, and they die laughing.

So then I leave and flip through the mad libs and there's not a single thing rude or mean in Keith's direction (or anyone else's, they almost entirely consist of me writing the word "fart" in various ways) and for my penance I will be posting them once daily until we have all read them all.

I am late for a meeting.