Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
* Who listens to NPR? Scott Jagow is not going to do the morning marketplace report anymore! WHY? Seriously, laying (lying? I never remember this rule) in bed in the morning sometimes I bribe myself to go to work with listening to the titillating stock report. I love Steve Inskeep as much as the next independent radio listener but this is just cruel.
* Prepare to be inundated with obnoxious lyrics posts this weekend; I actually have a list of songs to target. If you don't like them, sorry, just remind me that I sort of like that new Pussycat Dolls song until I flee the blogosphere in shame.
* Also, sorry if I freaked anybody out with the waxing post, I realize that is a little personal. BUT, after I posted it last night I got asked out by a sort of sultry boy (can boys be sultry? maybe that was a poor word choice) to get drinks tonight. So maybe it's like a Field of Dreams "if you build it they will come" sort of situation.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I understand why Sephora sells these ridiculous eye shadow things, I always see a bunch of Hollister clad teen girls toting Donney & Bourke purses when I'm in there, but they've gotten 4/5 star ratings on Sephora.com. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? Even if by some miracle these eye shadow appliques do work, why would you want them to? Is there really that large of a market for zebra and camo eye shadow stylings? Were all these reviews written by Pink's back up dancers? The cast and crew of All My Children? Ali Lohan?
Guys. I am going to get fired. I NEVER GO TO WORK. To be fair, today my mother actually forbade me to go to work since we are in the middle of an ice storm, live in the country, and the tires on my truck are approximately one hundred years old. Still, skipping work two days in a row for no reason? Very bad.
Monday, January 26, 2009
- still sick
- skipping work (my office is so confused. i'm sure they want to fire me terribly but i'm the only person that actually does our worthless job well)
- seeing Joshua Bell in concert
- staring at a couple blank work applications
- sick of hearing about Michelle Obama's fashion choices. I think a nod and "that's cute," will suffice.
- really confused about Facebook etiquette. Recently members of my extended family have all jumped on the Facebook bandwagon. Uncles, aunts, even my GREAT AUNT have all Facebook friended me and their requests are sitting in fbook limbo until I figure out whether I want them to see the fact that my religion is listed as "Tanqueray." Is it agist of me to not want to be internet acquaintances with senior members of my family tree? It's not like I'm going to drunkenly write on their walls like "WHAT UP UNCLE BRIAN!?!?" nor am I likely to be tagging them in pictures with post-tequila-shot-lemon-wedges in their mouths so what is the point? You know you need a real job when you have the extra time to ponder shit like this.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
- Colds this weekend: 1
- Menstrual cycle timers going off this weekend without debloating aid of birth control due to lack of health insurance: 1
- Boxes of Kleenex gone through: 3
- Times you accidentally blew your nose on your top sheet in the middle of the night because you drearily mistook it for a giant kleenex: 1
- Episodes of TLC's "Countdown to the Crown" watched: 6
- Bowls of Edy's Caramel Swirl ice cream consumed: 3
- Quantities of any food besides ice cream consumed: 0
- Times you mentally referenced that Sex and the City episode where Samantha gets the flu and freaks out that she doesn't have a man to take care of her: 43
- Times you pondered whether to call in sick tomorrow while watching "The Illusionist" on cable, the worst thing to happen to Edward Norton ever: 17
- Interesting blog entries written this weekend: 0
Friday, January 23, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
This past Christmas, one of my aunts gave me an Amazon giftcard. Since it's free money, I thought I'd fritter some of it away and buy a $1.99 episode of "The Real Housewives of Orange County." Who knew that Amazon's video on demand is a one click service? And that my dad's credit card was still saved on my account from when he bought my brother "The Jimi Hendrix Experience?" And that these two coincidences would combine to result in him inadvertently supporting Vicki, Lynn, Tamra, and the gang? Forcing me to talk to six Amazon phone operators in order to get the $2.11 purchase taken off his Mastercard so I could avoid the shame of having the man who paid for my college education know that I was willing to give up two hard earned dollars to see Gretchen get wasted.
Normally there aren't a lot of people in the break room when I eat lunch. Obviously, otherwise I would eat lunch somewhere else. But today there were two guys, each bettern 37-42 years of age I'd guess, talking about Disney World. For half an hour. Well, maybe it was Disney Land, whichever one is in Florida. But they definitely discussed it for a full thirty minutes. Which rides their kids like, which rides they liked, which restaurant was their favorite, which movie was their kids' favorite, and so forth. I actually felt a scream burbling up in my throat when one started talking about how great it was that you could try all the international foods there. As if we don't have Indian, Thai, Russian, Latin American, Moroccan, South Korean, Caribbean, Mongolian, Greek, Venezualen or any other genre of food right here in Lexington (surprisingly, we really do, I don't know why the restaurant scene here is so good).
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
- Okay, so I was sort of kidding about the McMuffin thing but also totally not. Because I discovered that White Lily flour makes frozen biscuits and they are effing delicious. Probably the most unhealthy thing in the world but if you think that my southern baptist grandmother didn't try to put bacon grease in my bottle to fatten infant me up, then you clearly haven't been reading this blog very long. ANYWAYS, buy these biscuits, scramble an egg, slice some colby jack, then put it all together and be prepared to not eat ANYTHING ELSE for four days. Except for the occasional Pop 'Em donut people leave in the break room. Oh my god I'm disgusting.
- I opened a savings account today! Oh, you did that when you were twelve years old because you realized that earning .1% interest in your checking account was retarded? My bad.
- I'm starting to consider applying for sales jobs. VOMIT-DEATH-DESPAIR. I know that I should be open minded but I can't help but see people in sales as anything other than polyester suit, squared toed Kenneth Cole loafer, hair gel wearing guys that want to hit on me but are overwhelmed by the height. I have been told that I would be good at sales but haven't yet decided that that is a good enough reason to go for it.
- I actually flirted via telephone with the guy at ING that I talked to about opening my account. I FLIRTED WITH SOMEONE WHO LIVES IN MINNESOTA AND ANSWERS PHONES FOR ING FOR A LIVING. Okay that was capital letter overload; I'm so sorry. But seriously, who is going to buy the clever ice cream truck if I'm handing out the witticisms for free?
Monday, January 19, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
For Being so obsessed with "House," I can't believe I never realized that his stalker in Season 3 is Leighton Meester from Gossip Girl. Although I'm jealous that she got to sit on his motorcycle in one episode, I think we can all agree that brunette social queen looks better on her than blonde medical groupie.
P.S. Only four days until total Obamination! The Lexington Herald Leader ran a story on how to cook Hawaiian foods that Obama loves if you're hosting an inauguration party. That's how we encourage bi-partisan cooperation in the South; comfort food.
P.P.S. If I didn't totally scare you away by using the faux-word "Obamination" then you'll be happy to know that you can now comment anonymously. So if don't you have a google account, or if want to say something nasty, now you can!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Normally I'm not much for Mary Janes; they just seem too kiddish on my five foot ten frame. But for some reason I'm dying to have these Leopoldo Giordanos in my closet. They'd make everything in my closet ten times cuter and are on sale for $109! Unfortunately that's $109 more than my shopping hiatus budget of $0 allows me but aren't they adorable? On sale at Barneys here.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Here's a question, am I the only person that listens to popular song lyrics? For real, every time I turn on the radio (pop radio is the currently the only thing loud enough to keep me awake at work, eventually I'll have to crank it up to Finnish heavy metal) I'm baffled by the random shit that constitutes our modern listening experience. Today's offender: Lady Gaga. For some reason I feel like if I don't enjoy her music it's because I'm just not trying to be hip enough. I am sort of obsessed with the line "Go! Use your muscle, carve it out, work it, hustle!" because who doesn't love a reference to the Hustle? But the rest of the song is a hot mess. For example:
Can't find my drink or man.
What's going on on the floor?
I love this record baby, but I can't see straight anymore.
Wish I could shut my playboy mouth.
How'd I turn my shirt inside out?
Monday, January 12, 2009
Today I went to see a Chiropractor for my whiplash. I was looking forward to all sorts of bone popping and muscle palpating that would make sitting in my office chair a little more bearable. So I was pretty disappointed when immediately upon meeting my Chiropractor I thought "I don't want to be in a room alone with this man." When I left the office, and when I detailed the story to a friend, I was half laughing and half crying. Laughing because it was so ridiculous, and crying because I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. When I started this blog entry I had a mental shortlist of all the creepy behavior he engaged in that I was going to type up. I wanted to say "look how absurd!" but more than that I think I wanted to justify the feeling that I had been violated to myself. Thought that if I didn't have good backup for feeling pressed upon then a reader would think I was arrogant for assuming a stranger would direct that sort of behavior towards me. I'm a twenty-one year old woman with a college education and I feel like I have to validate my own instincts? "He was just being friendly, you're reading too much into that, that's what chiropractors do!" "He mistook your nervous smile for encouragement, you made it worse!" "It's the south! Middle aged men call young women sweetie!" A lingering hand and a sensual whispering intonation is nothing, but what if some day I'm too polite to fight back against something bigger?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
- Covertly read magazines and newspapers.
- Write inane e-mails to everyone I know (this occasionally stoops to the level of filling out those obnoxious survey forwards).
- Read and all information on the company's intranet site (the only site my internet explore will allow me to visit). This includes the HR handbook, 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, and the backgrounds blurbs of all 250 employees.
- Draw still life sketches of whatever is on my desk. My "chapstick and water bottle" is particularly poignant.
- Read the New York Times, Slate, People, New York Magazine (and whatever else I can think of) on my Blackberry while pretending that no one walking by my desk notices. Hope that they will think I could be potentially doing something valid.
- Make paper snowflakes.
- Perfect the art of sleeping while sitting up.
- Do standing yoga poses in the handicapped stall of the women's restroom.
- Write random blog entries.
- Unnecessarily photocopy random pieces of paper so I always have snowflake making supplies on hand.
Dear Future Boyfriends/Love Interests: If you want to break up with me but are not sure how or don't want to hurt my feelings, just buy me these and I'll gladly do it for you.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I know that those of you who read this blog semi-regularly are probably getting really confused as to whether I am an irresponsible recent graduate or an matronly old lady. Probably because my subject matter alternates between reckless alcohol use and quilting and I apologize for my seemingly split personality. I assure you that I am in fact an irresponsible 21 year old, I'm just totally unable to relate to anyone born more than a day before me. This also applies to anyone who likes the song "Addicted" by the band Saving Abel. It's all over the radio and I cannot figure out for the life of me why "the kids" like it. In addition to being sung in one of those faux-rocker voices (think Creed) the following are samples of the lyrics:
I told lies constantly to my parents back then, and still sometimes catch myself slipping them into everyday conversation. I don't mean huge whopping deceptions like telling them I was engaged to the quarterback when really I was a closet lesbian. I mean small, usually insignificant fibs to smooth things over and make everyday life easier. Even when I knew my parents would be okay with something, but would ask questions, I lied to save myself the trouble. "I'm spending the night at Holly's," could mean "I'm going to go get wasted with a bunch of guys at their house on State St. and pass out on the couch with a boy I just met" and in the morning "Holly's sister dropped me off before tennis," meant "Tom's cousin's friend dropped me off in his rusted out Buick while I tried not to vomit in the backseat." Most of my fabrications weren't that dramatic; saying I was with a friend they knew rather than explaining a new acquaintance was a frequent tale. "Yeah his parents are home," "No, she drove," "School was fine today;" they were all totally pointless bluffs, like I was practicing for "the big one." An elaborate ruse that I knew would require skill and precision to execute. I couldn't blow it with an ill-contained smile or inability to hold eye contact. But that lie never came.
Somehow this worked for us. Knowing that I had the ability to pull the wool over their eyes on something or, more likely, the nonchalance to make them not care, made doing illicit things lose their luster. Because I lived in a constant state of being "unsupervised," I never felt the pressure to do things "now! while I can!" I slept in the same bed as boys as often as your uncle falls asleep watching Monday Night Football but I still graduated high school a virgin. I never drove drunk because I never had to make it back before midnight. My friend taught me to make a gravity bong my sophomore year but the first time I actually smoked was after I graduated college.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Agt: Is this Mama Strapless Living?
Me: No, this is Hannah.
Agt: (explains who she is), may I speak to MSL?
Me: Well, she's not here right now, but I'm the one who filed the claim so you need to speak to me.
Agt: (long silence) I have her listed as the policy holder. So I need to get a statement from her about what happened.
Me: Okay well she wasn't there when it happened, because I am the regular driver of the car. You can call her to confirm that I'm the one who you should talk to if needed.
Agt: Okay, I'll call her to set up an appointment to have the damage appraised.
Me: No, see, I drive the car; I'll need to set up the time for the appraisal.
Agt: Oh okay, do you know where Nicholasville is?
Me: The town or the road? (Side note: There is a small town outside of Lexington called Nicholasville, and a main road in Lexington called Nicholasville Road, this wasn't an entirely stupid question.)
Agt: I mean where Don Jacobs car dealership is.
Me: Oh, yes I do.
Agt: Can you be there before three today?
Me: Um...no? I have a job.
Agt: Oh, how about tomorrow?
Me: (takes a deep breath) Sure, why not. I can go during my lunch.
Agt: Okay, I'll put you down for twelve thirty tomorrow. And then I'll need MSL to call to confirm that the appraisal was completed.
Me: So I'll have her call you after I've taken it in?
Agt: No, I'm going to call her right now.
When I have conversations like this I can't help but think "This person makes more money than I do," and am then filled with a hefty amount of rage. Why hasn't Darwinism taken this girl out already?
P.S. Photo was taken at the aquarium. I know it's grainy/random but it's the only thing on my blackberry that remotely has anything to do with a) what happened on Saturday and b) survival of the fittest.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
There are some girls that, in some outfits, can go braless. For example, if I'm harnessed into something strapless that's really tight on the top, my A cups will stay put. But Lindsay, you are not one of those girls, and that is not one of those outfits. In fact, I'm not sure what to say in regards to a "dress" that requires extreme droopage in order to be decent in public. No one needs to know your nipples naturally hang to your elbows, Lindsay, fire your stylist.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Sometimes I really under-appreciate my youth. Only in your early twenties is it remotely appropriate to get stoned in the middle of the afternoon with a friend from high school and go to an aquarium. Which is exactly what I did today. Not that I would judge anyone who did it later in life, it's just that it's easier to squeeze into your schedule when you don't have a serious job, a husband, children, etc. Unfortunately for me, karma was intent on promoting a drug free lifestyle because on the way home (after dinner and movie, don't worry I wasn't behind the wheel with an altered state of mind) I got rear ended by a teenager in a '94 Camry while I was merging off the highway with my body turning the steering wheel to the right and my neck checking for traffic on the left. Basically I was twisted like a corkscrew when the late model sedan careened into me. Fortunately, I was driving my gas guzzling SUV at the time, which shows no sign of impact except for a quite attractively curved license plate. Unfortunately, the entire right side of my back and neck feel like one of the electric eels at the aquarium slithered in beside my spine and is having a temper tantrum. Since I have a couple of Percocets left over from my wisdom teeth extraction I'll just continue today's trend of self medication. Catch you on the flip side.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Facebook messages from boys you hooked up with in high school sent at 12:21 are always good indicators for the year to come. For a pretty short message it manages to assume that I don't know the following: he has a girlfriend, we've never had a real conversation, and the fact that the only time we "saw" each other was while making out in someone's parents guest bedroom four years ago. Gosh, I am such a lucky girl.