I Find It Hard To Believe

That horsing around with a knife actually resulted in JD's just having stabbed me in the hand. I'm not sure why he was making stabbing motions toward the kitty while I was petting said kitty, but there it is. He stabbed me in the hand.

Time And All You Gave

I really thought I might make it through this entire quarter without breaking down in front of my pseudomom.

There's just so much good stuff, and so much to be thankful for and happy about and all that tripe. But as successful as I am at taking the small minority of people who tax all of my resources and sticking them in a part of my brain that isn't constantly under use, they're still draining me. And I don't know what to do.

What do I do with people who are killing me even in their absence? If they were localized in a certain part of me I would cut it off. I would throw it to the wolves. But they're not localized. They're a part of me. And as much as I used to think I could burn bridges and cut people permanently out of my life, I now realize how unsuccessful and completely counterproductive that always was. Sorry if I ever tried it on you. Let's just blame it on my immmaturity.

She's my mother. He's my best friend.

And I can't be enough for either of them.

Gilgamesh and Enkidu at Uruk!


Lovely Thanksgiving. We instituted a HP theme, as you can see in that photo. It was delightful, and almost entirely vegan. You omnivores don't know what you're missing, I swear.

We also put up a tree ($17, woot!) and lights outside. I spent an hour looking for JD's death star ornament but can't find it, so the tree currently has a green eggs and ham ornament and two key chains that jessica saw fit to hang. I'm not really sure why you would want to hang key chains on a tree, but then again, I'm also not sure why you would eat half a pumpkin pie for breakfast, so there are lots of things I remain in the dark about.

Nothing is quite as holiday-fabulous as a lit tree, fireplace, and tea. earl grey. hot.

And I had the weirdest dream this morning.

Looking For You In This Other Girl's Eyes

I, too, would have liked to see a Veela. But JD said, and I agree, that not having to sit through scenes with Dobby or Kreacher was worth them dropping out the Veelas, half the world cup scenes, the entire academic year, any real drama between Ron and Hermione, all the classmates, most of sirius, the dursleys, and the majority of the first third of the book. Totally worth it, though, for the dragons, that scene where Snape keeps hitting them with books, and every second of Sweet Little Hermione.
I saw it opening night, of course. Good crowd. It's nice to see it with a theater full of people who squeal just like I do when Hermione does something cute. JD and I went to see it again last night, with a much less-good crowd. The girl on theother side of JD kept ripping farts. And then checking her phone to see if anyone had texted her in the five seconds since she last checked her phone. All her friends got up and left. Probably because of the constant farts. CONSTANT VIGILENCE.

HEY! Isn't Moody supposed to shout that all the time?! I just noticed. Dammit, I loved that about him in the book.

I picked up some choice British insults, too, which will come in super-handy.

So I've been effectively captaining myself for once. I got my hair cut last week and not only is it Killer, my crazy portugese hairstylist was yakking to me about astrology (because of psychology, you see), and realized my birthday is coming up and also that I am betrothed and so she bought me a huge vat of shampoo and conditioner as a birthday present with her own money. I watched her dig her check card out of her wallet and pay for it. I have been using this stuff and it is like liquid gold. It is the best fucking thing to happen to my hair, ever.

My hair looked so awesome yesterday that I was able to banter animatedly and not stupidly with not one but three separate faculty members who usually intimidate me so much that I fall all over myself. Heh. Magick shampoo. Plus, how awesome is it that my hairstylist got me a present? I almost cried.

Jessica and I went goodwilling this weekend. I found, no kidding, 14 shirts, the CUTEST purse ever, and a pair of jeans. So exciting. I fucking love thrift stores.

I just ran my hand through my hair and I almost crapped my pants it's so soft. It's like what petting melted butter would feel like if that wouldn't feel hot and liquidy.

I got new tires. Please, hold your applause. I only did it because JD picked me up from my hairkutt after getting my oil changed and was quite Wan and told me that for His birthday, he wants Me to get new tires for My car, because by rights they should have exploded in BLOOMINGTON when I first noticed that my tires sucked and it is some ridiculous miracle that I haven't been killed on a freeway driving on those horrible worn beasts. He scared me so we drove straight to a tire place and now i have teenage boy racing tires. VROOOOOOMMMM

I am on track to get All My Work Done before the end of tomorrow, which means I can do dick until next Monday. Nice. I just have to crank out some real gems of smartified wisdom today, which I fully intend to do.

You're a right foul git!

Ladies Is Pimps Too

It's finally here. Harry Potter Day. I am so G.D. excited. Before I go to sleep tonight, I will have finally seen this fabulous movie. I wore my Griffindor Quidditch shirt to bed last night (JD got it for me, it's comically too small but I don't care). I am coordinating final meeting-up details with some of my friends as we speak. And then, we are going to get there and wait in line for two hours! I can't wait. Ohhhh god, I have been excited about this movie for a literal year. I got through spring quarter (worst. quarter. ever.) by telling myself HP was coming out in November. No, seriously. I LOVE this book. This may be the best book of any of them. Ohhhhhhhhh Boy.

I'm getting my gross hair cut in a half hour. I'm thinking about chopping it off and dying it blond. Just to cockblock my friend B who is thinking about cutting her hair off. Kidding. I can't wait to see the crazy portugese lady.

I had a dream yesterday morning in which I married Jarrod (yes, my ex-boyfriend Jarrod who is married) and then his family was like, "Let's go to disneyworld, the parade starts in 90 minutes!" and I was all, "we can't drive to florida from indiana in that amount of time" and they were like, "who said anything about driving? We'll take the family jet!"

So JD and I (yeah, he was there) got on the Wholder family jet and it flew 20 feet above the ground all the way to FL. The majority of the dream was the inside of the jet.

Also, I experienced a cosmic reminder to stop being such a bitch yesterday.

I was coming home from my office at, like, 10pm, and I was about to pull into my parking spot, but this fat sullen neighbor in a "thug-esque" jacket was skulking along the row of cars right in my way. So I stopped abruptly and, obnoxiously, put my signal on to make sure he knew he was in my way, and glared at him. He glared right back, because he was trying to look "hard."

Then, I pulled into the spot and cut it waaaaaayyy too close, and, reminiscent of the time I bashed my car into a barrier in the parking garage, I bashed the back right side of my car into a granite (textured!) pillar that forms the side of the space. Nice. I scared myself, probably made that guy shit his pants, and didn't think too hard about it because that is what I do.

Then later JD and I went to the gym and he was having to direct me in backing out of the spot because I almost took my passenger side mirror off. And who walks by, but the guy I almost killed and his buddies. I am pretty sure they were walking over to examine the extensive damage That Retarded Girl had done to her own car.

I didn't have the heart to look at it until we got to the gym. Holy. Shit. I am so lame. I gave the entire side of my car a nice, textured set of racing stripes. Poor plastic car. It's not pretty. I'll probably try to touch it up with nail polish later. Ha.

Anyway, that's this week's installment of Karma Gonna Getcha.

Now I have to go get my nasty hair cut (JD's getting my oil changed while I do that, I LOVE IT!) and then I think we're going to Disneyland until it's HP time. Oh, how I love today. So So So grand. Even if I broke my damn car.

Safe As A Cootie-Wootie With You

1. I need a haircut. I didn't realize it was this desperate until today. All that heat styling really takes a toll on your lovely lady locks, ya'll! But I don't have enough money for a haircut! And I also need an oil change. Oh, dilemma.

2. In, like, 2nd grade, I was in class and we were about to read this short story about a kid with a problem and I was already bored with the story because, if you believe my mother, I was reading when I was 2 (and if you believe her grandmother, I could read the Bible. And she said, "oh, no you cain't, Elizabeth" and I says, I says to her, "Oh yes I can, granny!" and then I went and grabbed the Bible and started reading it to her and that story will never die), and stupid little second-grade stories were *yawn* not that challenging. But this story featured the word "dilemma" in the little vocab section before the actual story. And the teacher asked if anyone knew what a dilemma was. And the GD definition was right there on the page next to the word "dilemma." So even though I was prohibitively shy all the time (in fact, until grad school shook that right the fuck out of me) back then, I raised my hand and gave the answer right off the page. And the teacher was annoyed that I had obviously looked at the definition. But come on! Reading is an automatic process, you can't look at letters and NOT read. So I never answered anything else again. Through grade 16.

3. That means I am in 19th grade right now. Eeeww.

4. Only sixty-something hours until Harry Pottser! I am so fucking (FREAKIN') excited. Yeah, I'm going to the midnight show. Yeah, I have class the next day. I know, I'm not in college anymore. I shouldn't do crap like this. DEAL WITH IT.

5. I bought toilet paper yesterday, because since Jessica has lived with us, we use toilet paper at an exponentially faster rate than when it's just the two of us there. This annoys me to No End. If you're really needing proof of how pissy I get about toilet paper waste, refer back to my archives when I lived with Chris Sinclair. I was a total bitch about it then, too.

6. I have considered buying travel-size TP and giving her one per day to use. I swear, that girl must mummify her entire arm and shoulder with the stuff before attempting a wipe. It's just Wasteful. So anyway, I bought 12 giant-sized rolls that are supposed to equivle 48 normal rolls. And I'm timing this.

7. I realize that logically, the third of the rent she pays is more than any amount of toilet paper she can go through. And even if she eats $150 in groceries/month by herself and then uses another however much of communal amenities and then you subtract out the housework she doesn't do, and the amount of damage to the furniture (I am not kidding. Our shit furniture is taking a beating. It's weird, she never just sits down, She plops or flings herself downward) and the annoyance factor or having to shut the door whilst crapping or not be naked all the time or have space for all our junk and the way her room smells because she's never (never) cleaned it....hmmmm. I think that about cancels out. Would I rather worry about another few hundreds of dollars a month that JD and I have to come up with, or worry about not killing someone?

8. I'm not sure, actually. JD thinks she's seriously considering going home, either in January for good or June. it's been an uphill battle to try to (a) convince her to go back to school for what she's interested in, rather than what she thinks will land her a tolerable job, and (b) explain to her mother that she needs to goddamn do things on her own, for the first time in her life. It's really just amazing to see this kind of sheltered-ness in a person this age.

9. Ahh, my coffee is FINALLY starting to kick in. Now I can get to work. Thank fuck. LOOOONG day ahead, with lots of interactions with people who only want to talk to me about bikini waxing.

*Ciao*

A Lot Of Women Prefer Them To Normal-Sized Bananas, LIKE NEVER BEFORE


One
This is Ashleigh's hand. Ashleigh Purviance. I AM SO EXCITED! I have been unable to talk in anything but all caps for about 20 hours now. I want to throw her a party. A big party with penis-shaped everything. This is the most fabulous thing ever. Oh, and tiaras. No one ever gets tired of tiaras. In fact, the only bridezillas I can get enough of are the trashy ones walking around DL (that's shorthand, yo) with minnie mouse bridal ears. Those, I hate. All other indications of specialness, I totally love.

Two
JD and I bought some guides to Scotland this weekend. They have been immensely helpful. We are trying to work out minor details now and I am getting ridiculously excited already. We are arguing over which specific isles are worth seeing, and how many days we can afford to spend in Storybook Glen (Sis, you have to make sure to hit the Glen! OMG). And stuff. I half-assedly tried starting a registry on Amazon (if you go look you'll be appalled....there's nothing but iPod nanos and dvd box sets on there, so please don't) but I think we'll go the nouveau route of setting up a honeymoon registry instead. We'll see. I am convinced we don't need any more stuff, so maybe it's slightly classier to ask for honeymoon money than normal-ass money. whatever.

Either way, the next while is going to be incredibly expensive. I think Kristin and Eric will be engaged too by the end of the year, and they've already planned their wedding in hawaii. And we are absolutely going to that. And fucking travel is expensive. I hate that. I should moonlight as a flight attendant or something to get free tickets. But it's going to be so fucking awesome. I am completely stupid with how excited I am.


Three
My mom is being crazy. Above and beyond the normal, holiday-season-inspired weirdness. She'll probably start reading this again because I'm being so "secretive" in not having written her back since yesterday, so I should limit what I say. It's annoying. There's always this second where she could choose to act right, and she considers it but chooses, instead, to fucking (freakin', if you're her) act retarded each time. I watched a full-blown family drama unfold over several hours yesterday and I am not impressed with her behavior. OOOOOH, SNAP.


Four
This is mine. I can't do it justice with the camera, so I am stealing their photo. It's slightly bluer than it looks here, most of the time. It's fucking insane. I heart it.

Five
I like everything. I like my life a whole whole lot. I have decided to stop freaking out about stuff. School, money, roommate drama, etc. FUCK IT, I say. Things work out for the best. GoF comes out in, like, three days. I'm planning a delicious vegan thanksgiving. we bought a shitty tree for the first time since we've lived here. I'm booking Boston tickets later today. I'm going to yoga in a few hours. Life is fucking awesome. I love everyone. Like Never Before.

I Have The Lamest Nightmares

1. I had a dream a couple weeks ago, in between hitting the snooze button for an entire extra hour, in which I was taking the interval of time in between hitting the button (seven minutes, to be specific) and I was conducting lon jih tudinal data analys eees on the information that I dreamed during each interval because you can do that sort of thing across multiple time points.

2. I had a dream this morning in which I was trying to sound out the difference between the "Trossachs" and the "Treshnish Islands" in my dream.

3. I wish Jessica would stop holding up various circulars from the Sunday paper and, shouting, proclaim: "Oh, THIS looks pretty cool!" or "Wow, THIS isn't too bad, Liz!" Because there is a GG marathon on (riiiight, Melissa?) and the only place I can watch it is in the living room, AKA Jessicaville, and she is talking THROUGH it and I hate it!

4. Happy Birthday Celeste! Hope you are having a lovely time and making a difference in SW IN if that's what you're doing today.

5. Speaking of. I am super sad and sorry for everyone who was affected by it in any way, whether your parents' house blew away or you had to pull extra shifts at the hospital or you had to hike to your house through miles of debris. Or if you knew anyone who got hurt or anything. I found out that my mom's old house is actually still standing (I thought it was gone, thanks a lot unreliable sources...none of you, don't worry) and that was a huge relief. and I know that's a tiny thing; the house I used to live in might be gone and I was extremely bothered. So I'm double sorry if you really had actual stuff to contend with. Sorry I can't talk smart about it.

6. I don't have my usual meeting tomorrow, which means I unexpectedly got a 5-day break. Needless to say, i have some catching up to do today with Everything. And GG marathon. So, got to go.

I'm Sorry, But Viktor Krum Is HOTT

I am a complete and total dork.

English Genius You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 93% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go! Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it! For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 68% on Beginner You scored higher than 48% on Intermediate You scored higher than 81% on Advanced You scored higher than 86% on Expert

Link: The Commonly Confused Words Test written by shortredhead78 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Underappreciated   The Battleaxe Deliberate Brutal Love Master (DBLMf)     Sharp. Hardened. Dominating. The Battleaxe sweeps all before her, smiting and what not.     You've had a number of serious relationships, so you obviously have many attractive qualities. You're well experienced in dealing with other people's weirdnesses, and it's likely you're good in bed by now, too. Also, like the drunken housewife chucking Heinekens at her no-good husband, you've got a lot of energy.     People can tell you're sophisticated, and so you find yourself the object of infatuations quite often. But it's how you handle yourself in your relationships that gets you the 'brutal' tag. Controlling? Imperious? Overbearing? Yes, please. Your exact opposite: The Nurse Random Gentle Sex Dreamer     Remarkably, you don't mind the same from your men. You've experience enough to take whatever you dish out. Overall, you're a very good person and a capable lover, and when the time comes you'll make a fine divorcee. ALWAYS AVOID: The Poolboy CONSIDER: The False Messiah, someone just like you. Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating. My profile name: teresita488765

New Euphemism For Pooping

"I'm going to go throw some things in the laundry, and then I'll be back."

--My Little Sis

(am so proud)

This Is My Video Post

Oh my god, ya'll, I figured out Video Blogging.

I Know, Right?!?

So I went out last night for Kristin's birthday. We went to this incredibly classy bar out on Rich People Peninsula, aka Balboa. I'd never been out there! It's like coney island and shit. We took a ferry over and even though the ferry ride was about five minutes long, we all got out of the car and reenacted scenes from titanic at the helm of the ferry. No, we didn't, but it smelled a lot like ocean and was great practice for ferrying around on a Scottish isle, if you get my....drift. HA! But seriously, folks, nothing shouts, "CLASSY" like a mural on a wall with a be-implanted lass holding a margarita glass in her vagina.













Kristin likes yellow alcohol, apparently. We came for happy hour, which started pretty early in the afternoon, so at all times each of us had two big-ass drinks in front of us. And then also there were shots. And, the jukebox played nothing but classic rock, and with each new song the three of us ladies exclaimed in unison, "I love this song!" whether or not it was actually true. When we all got drunk enough to venture over to the juke (chin) box, holding hands like Kindergarteners on a field trip, we immediately forgot what we picked and started exclaiming with each song, in unison, "This is totally our song!" Which was not the case. Ever.






This is Briana. If I have ever passingly tried to set you up with her and you feigned disinterest, I bet you are kicking yourself right about now. She is so CUUUUUUUTEEE! She was threatening to nominate me for What Not To Wear, not because she thinks I need style help, but because she knows I would crap my pants with happiness to go on that show.


Then, after we drank ourselves retarded and realized that "happy hour" didn't mean "happy pricing" when you tell the waitress to "choose whatever tequilla she wants" for the margaritas, we left the Classiest of Cantinas, and were halfway to the car when Kristin got a whiff of ocean air and exclaimed, "Ohhhhh can't we please go to the beach for just one minute!?" So we walked the extra three steps to the beach, where the ocean was big and black and inky and I felt so small and dinky (ha! name that reference). And Lo! There are bonfires all over the place. People actually do this kind of thing, it's not myth after all. People come and make fires in these pits and hang out and it couldn't be nicer. I never before wanted to do something like that, but after seeing it, I like it.





Kristin somehow went and befriended these random people, whose fire we then bogarted because Briana and I were freezing our balls off, and she showed them her butterfly tat on her buttcheek (she has shown all of us this tattoo multiple times. and usually she makes a point of showing us what undies she is wearing too. Which is why I adopted that habit. Because I know you're curious and you feel weird asking. So I just show you, get that elephant out of the room) and this random girl showed her a butterfly tat on her shoulder. So while she randomly bonded with them we all enjoyed their fire and talked loud, inappropriate shit about the "guitar player" among them who was using his "guitar playing" skills to mack on these girls. It was Heeeelarious. Then we hiked back to the car and hung out at my apartment and watched WNTW and sobered up and then my friends went home. Wheee!

There's more photos on my fotoblog. Back to my weekend.

Leaning Back On A Broken Willow Tree

GAH, I am in the worst mood. And I've felt pukey and dizzy all damn day. Why in the fuck do ALL PEOPLE IN ACADEMIA assume that I am pregnant when I feel pukey and dizzy? Do I look that fat today? Do I look that sexually active??! Seriously, the two or three times I've grumbled through a day feeling like this kind of shit in the last few years, WITHOUT FAIL someone who mentors me insinuates that I must be pregnant.

I AM NOT GODDAMN PREGNANT

I swear to GAH. They all get excited about it too, like it's something I should be thrilled about. Maybe one day the Lady Clock will start a-ticking for me. maybe. Not today, buster. Until then I am not going to get excited about having eaten something that gave me indigestion. AM I RIGHT?!?

shit!

And Melissa's away message has something to do with there being a rerun on tv. And it's Gilmore Girls night. And if the rerun she's referring to is the SUPPOSED TO BE NEW episode that's coming on here in two hours with the much-lauded return of JESS that I have been waiting for with bated breath for TWO MONTHS I WILL CRY

I HATE NOVEMBER! I FUCKING HATE THIS GODFORSAKEN MONTH I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT

Well, we're off to a really great and mature start to the month, aren't we, Liz?