"Any boogers in it?" "There's no boogers in it, sir."
I wish I could say the same.
Dried snot update:
still there. Eww.
Something for Kandee the Shorter Roommate
"Double cappuccino, half-caf, non-fat milk, with just enough foam to be aesthetically pleasing but not so much that it leaves a moustache."
So I was thinking today (in my supreme boredom) why it is that men grow such ugly facial hair. I can't come up with much of a reason, to be honest. I know a few people who like to be funny and have a handle-bar moustache for a day or two, or something, but other than a temporary joke, explain to me why men have moustaches, please.
Only two groups of people, in my opinion, should have moustaches: Tom Selleck, and professional brass players. Unless you make your living playing the trombone and as a result have a red half-circle covering your cupid's bow (and even then, a beard or a well-trimmed goatee would be preferrable), or unless you are Tom Selleck, please, no moustaches. Really, they stopped being fashionable years and years ago. (Unless, again, you are Tom Selleck.)
My point? If you have the ability to grow facial hair, do the world a favor and don't wear just a moustache. It's gross. Unless you are Tom Selleck, you will always look better without it. (If you are Tom Selleck, then please, please keep the 'stache. You look better with it, as these two pictures show oh-so-clearly.)
Also, let me say that the good ol' dress code part of the HC needs to be amended. Whichever bureaucrat thought that beards and goatees were bad while moustaches are okay was... delusional. If we're going to make the male student body look clean-cut, let's do it across the board. Lose the exceptions that result in people looking like... ugh. I can't even think of an appropriate comparison.
"Excuse please, but why do they call you 'booger'?"
I think someone wiped a booger on the handle of the inside of the door to the bathroom here at work. Eww.
"well Tainted Love's too fast to dance to, so let's leave them all behind"
So tonight I went with my parents, one of my twin sisters, and three of her children to see
The 5 Browns, which while impressive, was a little bit... classical music for the masses. Anyway, so they did this "A Conversation with the 5 Browns" right after the intermission during which members of the audience could ask them questions. They were asked what music they listen to other than classical, and the oldest Brown, Desirae, said she was listening to this band,
Stars. And I thought she was cool. Until she said she also bought Kelly Clarkson's latest album, and she wasn't so cool anymore.
The point of that, of course, is that clearly it's time to blog about
Stars' latest album, "Set Yourself On Fire," also on
Arts and Crafts with Broken Social Scene. Their first album, "Heart," was really good, but this one just really really does it for me. I'm not sure how to explain it, really, but it's good. Incredible, even. If you want to check it out for yourself, you can listen to it on
their website.
Also, I'm sick of going to restaurants who won't let me order my meat the way I like it. Jerks.
"And the funky bunch helps me to bring you a show with no intoxication"
So last night I went to Durango's (a better sort of Café Rio) with my buddy Marky Mark. I haven't seen him in a while, because he tends to disappear every so often, but as I had loaned him the CD you see to the right, he had an additional motivation to see me. Plus, he had just gotten back from New York after checking out NYU's law school, so he had good stories to tell, and he needed to hear about my dating life. Durango's was great, as we both love it, and we can sit there talking for a while, which we did for about 2 hours.
Anyway, so the funny part of the evening happened when we were waiting in line to order, and there was a middle-aged woman dressed in scrubs with another woman about her age, and a 17-20 year old guy who seemed to be her son. The woman saw Marky Mark and I kinda goofing around, and she asked us if we were dating, and we said no. She asked if we were married, and we said no. She asked us what we thought a great date would be, and I said dinner and a movie, because that really is my favorite date, and she said that was really uncreative. Marky Mark gave a similar answer, which she didn't like so much either, and I mentioned that I'm a big sports fan, especially hockey, so going to a game of some sort is fun and always scores a lot of points with me.
Finally, she got to the point and asked us if a date where you got an old beat-up car and smashed it to pieces sounded like fun, to which my response was a resounding no. And finally, we gave her an answer she was looking for. Heh. Then, she says something to the effect of, "So, you just hang out or something...?", clearly looking for an explanation of our relationship. Typically, when people ask that sort of thing I tell them why it is that we'll never date, but last night I just didn't feel like saying anything. Leaving her wondering was oddly satisfying.
Also, I loaned Marky Mark a copy of the CD pictured to the left; looks like I'll be seeing him again sooner rather than later.
"The ever-beautiful flowers she had planted with her own hands became nothing more than the lost roses of her cheeks."
So outside my office building there are several lilac bushes that I walk by on my way in from wherever it is in the boonies that I have to park good ol' Belinda Margaret the Purple Plastic Car. Despite the close proximity of restaurants like The Cotton Bottom with their odiferous garlic burger, the smoking area that has now expanded to the entire area in front of the building entrance, and the large trucks parked outside with billowing exhaust, I've still gotten this wisp of a pleasant scent as I walk past the lilac bushes. It's been a nice change from the rotten herbs-and-meat smell and the visible pollution. Also, I think it's interesting how much something so simple cheers me up. Because now, I am comparatively cheery.
"All of the time you wait, there's someone out there, And no one can find all the red"
So... a week or two ago I ordered a few CDs from
Arts and Crafts, and as the label is in Ontario, it's taken a little while for them to get to me. I finally got them today, and I'm ridiculously excited about said receipt. I think I'll just blog about each album for the next few days. So... this one is
Broken Social Scene's most popular, I believe, called "You Forgot It In People." Excellent, with a fresh laid-back sort of energy. According to the sticker on the album, it's "designed to remind us that music still has room to be recreated. It flows like a compilation of sounds for the wounded..." There's actually more to the little promo, but I can't include it because whoever wrote the copy used an apostrophe when making a word plural, and that offends me. Deeply. Good thing my music tastes aren't overly influenced by the grammarian in me, at least not when it comes to stickers on the shrink wrap over an album.
"I made you something. It's a shirt."
So today was a long day, sort of. Did the whole church thing this morning, although we got there late, which I *hate.* I think Kandee the Shorter Roommate and Tina the Taller Roommate and I will have to figure out a different way to do things so we're not 20 minutes late every week.
So when I got home, I took a good long nap, then put on the t-shirt you see here with my favorite pair of
Prana yoga pants. The incredible comfort combined with humor makes this one of my absolute favorite-est outfits, if a t-shirt and yoga pants can qualify as an "outfit."
Also, Kandee and I are thinking of making our own triangle-shaped Love Sac, because it would be cool. Also, because, you know... "well, I sew."
"It's mumbo-jumbo like that and skinny little lizards like you thinkin' they the Last Dragon that gives kung fu a bad name."
So last night, at Kandee the Shorter Roommate's insistence, we watched a movie that's basically
kung fu in Harlem. I think it had something to do with her watching
Army of Darkness with some other guy and not liking it, but because Tina Tinelli the Taller Roommate and I both like AoD, we were obligated to watch The Last Dragon as payback or something. I think. Honestly, I'm not sure.
Anyway, so after going to
Jock Rock IV for about an hour, and getting bored at the bad music being played, Kandee, Tina, and I left to go back to our apartment, where we had a few people over to watch the aforementioned flick. And... it was fun, but really, all I can say is this: "Who's the master?"
(Oh, and if you were curious, yes, that is The Glow that Bruce Leroy is sporting in this picture. "I AM!")
"Clothing, $85. Earrings, $30. Latte, $4. Getting away with murder..."
So here are the new earrings. I typically wear studs, so even these feel really big to me. Kinda interesting how perception is affected by experience. For other people, these would be way too small. Something of note, though, is that they're actually kinda heavy. One of the biggest reasons that I always wear studs is that I'm paranoid about having not-intentionally-gauged holes in my ears when I'm old. Haven't you ever seen those women who wore heavy earrings for years and years and years so their piercings are now half an inch long instead of the teeny hole they were when they were first pierced? Yeah, I don't want to be one of those women. Sometimes I'm amazed at how much of what I do is motivated by not looking like the Crypt Keeper before my time.
Also, I should point out that if you've never had a Starbucks Chantico, you should. I highly recommend it. It's like... hot chocolate to the
nth degree. Very yummy.
"Someone's in my fruit cellar! Someone with a fresh soooul!"
So I watched a couple of excellent movies last night.... well, okay, so maybe "excellent" isn't the right word, but they were definitely enjoyable. Anyway, so the movie-watching was great, except for the part where I went to bed really late. I've been feeling a little under-the-weather lately, so I haven't worked out in the morning since Tuesday. (I'm such a slacker - and that was after 3 weeks of consistent gym-going. Way to break the pattern, eh?) I've been feeling a little better, although getting only 4 hours of sleep wasn't good enough when I could get 5, especially with the aforementioned sous-weather nonsense.
Point being, I love campy movies (if anyone wants to get me a copy of the soundtrack to
Barbarella, I'll love you forever), especially when they're French movies in English based on comic books, although the lack of sleep isn't doing it so much for me, and I need to get my patootie to the gym, if I intend to decrease it at all.
Oh! Something else. So today I ordered an Overstock.com shirt (black girly T, red O in the pocket area, with "It's all about the O" on the sleeve, I think), and again, I'm kind of excited about it. It's kinda cheesy, but it'll be fun to wear, except for the part where it will remind me of our
commercials and Sabine's funky way of saying "Overstock.com." I ask you, why is it that one would hire a spokesmodel who can't say the company name properly? (Although, I should point out that our marketing strategy seems to be working...) Ahhh well. I'm just a peon anyway.
Also, I forgot to wear earrings today, which you wouldn't think would bother me, but apparently is, because of the indoctrination I've gotten from my mother to cover up the holes in my ears. I think I'll go to Target on my lunch hour and buy a pair, or something.
Groovy.
A Haiku, by Kandee the Shorter Roommate
Electricity
makes my life so so so good
Electricity
"I want you to think of what you ate today. Got it? Now cut that in half; this is called a diet, people. Everyone start one today! You see, when you
skip a meal, your body feeds off its fat stores. And if you skip enough, maybe your body will..." ...stop being quite so pudgy? Observant readers may have noticed the new Pudge-O-Meter (not actually anything more than a list of the weight I still have to drop, but hey, I like the name) down at the bottom right. I've been working on dropping weight for a while, and it doesn't seem to be working as well as I'd have liked. I've dropped about 25 pounds so far, but I have a bunch more to go before I'm as svelte as I'd like to be. Since I have a pretty specific goal, I'm thinking if I give myself a constant visual reminder, it might help. Hence, the Pudge-O-Meter. Take a look every so often, and feel free to send me encouraging or rude emails - whatever you think will be more motivating. Or ignore it, because you know, it's really for my own benefit.
"What's this? You're wearing the shirt of the band you're going to see? Don't be that guy."
So one of the best parts of Fridays is being able to wear a t-shirt to work as opposed to something more dressy. This is the t-shirt I wore today, which says "Counter-Terrorism Cougars" and under that, "U.S. Gov. Inter-Agency Baseball League" and on the back is the number 24. Fun, random t-shirts make me happy.
"Who knows where thoughts come from? They just appear."
So tonight I was chatting with a buddy of mine about a girl he's been dating for a while. She's his first girlfriend, first real kiss, and all that jazz; I think they've been exclusive for two months. Anyway, so my buddy and I have been friends since our freshman year, and he's one of my few male friends that I haven't dated.
He mentioned that he wanted me to meet her, and my first question was, "will it make any difference?" I felt kind of bad, but considering how much I think of him, and thus few women are worthy of him, and how I tend to not like women, unless my opinion would really matter to him, I didn't much see the point of giving it. Of course, I was flattered that he would want my approval, but considering that it's more likely that I'll disapprove, I didn't want anything to get in the way of our friendship. Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bad friend.
Another thought prompted that, too. (And I told my buddy this, which maybe wasn't the best idea.) I think that we've been friends long enough, and I like the dynamic of our relationship, and he went for so many years without ever dating anyone that I'm not terribly comfortable with the idea of him in a romantic relationship. In fact, the idea of him getting married (which is much more likely to happen soon for him than it is for me) actually makes me nervous. And while I know that I don't want him, and we'd never be happy together, deep down I also know that I'll probably be jealous of whoever he does end up with. Oh well... hopefully I'll mature before he actually gets married so I can be truly happy for him.
"Somebody blows their nose and you want to keep it?"
So today I had my follow-up appointment for my tonsillectomy a few weeks ago. Apparently, I've healed properly, and I have absolutely no restrictions on my activity level or what I can eat. Not that I've much worried about that in the past week or two, though. We did discuss, however, how yawning and especially sneezing is terribly painful. At which point my soft-spoken but jovial otolaryngologist apologizes for operating on me, and tells me that tonsillectomies are the meanest thing he does to people. Good times, noodle salad.
Anyway, so I learned that I had small adenoids that he removed (I wasn't sure because he didn't know if I had them until he was in my throat, and I don't remember our post-op chat AT ALL, but it turns out I had bitty ones and they're gone now), that I shouldn't get strep anymore, and that it will be a while before I manage to stop sneezing with lots of snot involved. The pressure in my constricted throat tends to be incredibly painful when I'm sneezing, and so... yeah. It's not pretty.
Oh! Something else interesting: so today, at my appointment, I found myself engaging in the abnormal (for me) experience of babbling about something about which the listener doesn't care. Normally I'm better at being aware of my audience, and limiting my comments, at least in situations like that, to relevant information, and yet, there I was, telling him stuff that doesn't matter. I even had the thought while in the middle of the sentence,
shut your mouth, you idiot!, but I just kept talking... Ahh well; at least I'm not completely oblivious, right?
"I once thought I had mono for an entire year; it turned out I was just really bored."
So it's after 10, and I just realized I haven't left my bedroom since I got home at 7:30. Apparently, I'm feeling somewhat apathetic tonight. Or something. And I don't even have anything terribly funny to talk about.
I mean, I could mention how I "casually" talked to my boss about how I started my blog again, and how I was a tad concerned about how many people I know (kinda) who have gotten fired for saying stuff about their jobs in their blog. I mentioned the sorts of things I'd ever say, and he said there's no way that could be a problem. Gratefully, he's sort of a nerd like me, and has something similar.
Or... I could talk about how The Portuguese Baking Queen (PBQ), a friend from work, and I went out for sushi after work, and our normal waitress, who also owns the sushi place (Go Sushi on 33rd S and 20th E in Salt Lake; tell your friends!) with her husband, who is the brother of a guy we work with (not confusing at ALL), wasn't there, and instead there was some annoying lass instead, and she bugged me for a myriad of reasons. Which, I suppose, told the right way could be humorous. I could also mention the PBQ's parting comments to me about said annoying lass, because that was funny too.
But no. Instead, I will mention how I haven't left a 14' by 14' (I think) space in three hours.
Highlight of the night: when Illinois tied it up, twice, in the last 5 minutes of the second half.
Disappointment of the night: that part where Illinois lost.
"This is my ant farm. These little guys can lift fifty times their own weight. They also spend weeks digging these little tunnels. And hey, they
really hate it when you do this." So, my drama for the morning. I go to the gym (I've started going every morning at 7 before I go to work), I come home, and I hop in the shower. I get out of the shower, and I'm wrapped in a towel putting this protein-strengthener in my hair that my amazing stylist Jonesy gave me. Then, on the right side of my upper body, maybe 4 inches in from my arm, I feel this pinching feeling right under the top of my towel. So I have the expected reaction, and discover an ant nestled between my skin and the towel, which I then proceed to kill.
This, of course, leads me to two thoughts. A) Getting bitten by an ant first thing in the morning is NOT an enjoyable experience and my skin is still feeling pretty hypochondriacally-crawly (that's not so much a word, but I don't care), and secondly, how on earth did an ant get into my towel so it could bite me, especially considering I'd been wearing said towel for the previous ten minutes? Did it fall from the ceiling or something?
Another thought from my carpool to work this morning: Jack Johnson songs all sound the same.
"The test of what is evil is not its degree, but its effect."
Cry Count (Sunday afternoon session): 3
Cry Count, total: 25
"Time may be running out for us to do what we promised to do."
Cry Count (Sunday morning session): 9
"Kindness is the essence of greatness."
Cry Count (Saturday afternoon session): 5
"Your mind is a cupboard, and you stock the shelves."
Cry Count (Saturday morning session): 8
"...and then I'd follow it up with a drive to a secluded beach where I'd pop on the radio and we could slow-dance till the sun came up."
So last night as I was driving home, I ended up driving sorta in conjunction with this guy in a dented Honda. We drove pretty much the same speed, and stayed together from about Thanksgiving Point until the Orem 1600 N exit. The funny thing, though, was that as I was rocking out to an early Ani album, so I was singing and kinda bopping in my chair and the like.
Apparently, this guy saw me being a dork and thought it was kinda funny, and at one point was even imitating my chair-bouncing. The best part, though, was that just as he was exiting, he slowed down so he was right next to me, at which point he made this overly (and thus jokingly) seductive face at me, and then waved his fingers at me. I mean, he waved goodbye, but it was that wave where each finger moves independently and in succession. It was weird, but at the very least, it was good for a laugh.
Also, Ani rocks. (She's so much better than that watered-down angry chick music Tori puts out. Ha!)
