Archive
(this means you, Emily)
(and Nicole)
and, moreover, for my reference so I don't have to go searching all over creation for it the next time I want to watch it:
Lazy Sunday
Google Maps is the best. True dat. Double true.
and yes, like 98% of females everywhere, Andy Samberg is my new husband.
The end.
Please quit being so cute. Thanks.
From the Official Browncoats Board, which contrary to what you may think I do not belong to:
"So, here we are. So much has happened recently and I feel this is the time to pause and reflect before the New Year starts slapping us around.
We made the movie, it has come out on DVD just in time for that odd little Christian holiday where they celebrate not being fed to lions or something. It is number one on Amazon, and the old Firefly set is crawling back up the charts like a thirsty man in the desert towards a mirage. Does this make us better than anyone else? You bet it does. But it's not the kind of better than that causes you to look down your nose at anyone. It's more the kind that lets you pat someone patiently on the arm and say in a sanctimonious tone, "Mm hm, it's alright. I'll get you a copy of the movie and you can be cool, too. Just not quite as cool as me because I've been a Browncoat for sometime, now."
If you are like me, you watch the movie to assure yourself the future will be safe, you watch the extras to see old friends, and you listen to Joss' commentary and shed a little tear over good times. Waht's that? You don't cry in the commentary? Well, just have an emotion chip installed, you robot, and refill your eye bags with saline.
Be well, Browncoats. Aim high, as we have all learned that nothing is impossible (except getting Jewel and Morena to stop fighting over who is prettier when we all know it's me). Happy Holidays."
Also, this picture is creepy; can you really do that with your hands? because I wouldn't put it past you:
I would like to have your babiesLove,
me.
that it just tried to play Cinderella (the band) because it features "hard rock roots and extensive vamping" this website is pretty much the best thing ever.
I am goddamn exhausted today.
I am also a completely undeserving friend--I hung out last night with this kid and after I spent five minutes on the phone explaining how I did not get him a Christmas present even though I thought about it but he shouldn't feel bad because I didn't get any of my friends Christmas presents he showed up with this book, and it was all giftwrapped and everything and he said something along the lines of "Even though YOU don't believe in Christmas presents..." and I suck. I suck so bad. I am really excited about reading the book, though, and I threatened him with a random present at some point in the future. Which will happen as soon as I figure out what he'd like. I sort of hate the tendency towards oneupsmanship that Christmas seems to have become, but that doesn't cancel out the fact that my friend is extremely generous, always has been since I've known him, and he never gets anything back. I know that's not the point, but it hardly seems fair. If someone follows the link to his page and buys one of his records (and the record is really good, dammit), I will have partly done my job.
It feels like March, not December.
Everyone in this office seems to be either leaving early or not here at all, and I'm listening to more music than I normally do in the course of a workday because the quiet is freaking me out.
I bought The Documentary two nights ago, mostly because of what my friend wrote about "Hate It Or Love It" over here, (my top thirteen records of this year are listed there too! be like me! be like me!) and because of it I have discovered the absolute most unintentionally hilarious rap lyric ever: "Girl, I will wipe your tears with my G-Unit bandanna." LOLLERSKATEZ.
If I have been less verbose than I normally am, it's kind of because things are going well. And there's some sort of not-quite-irony inherent in that. This has been a strange year, and the parts that were awful were so awful that it makes me think the law of averages has to take effect somewhere, and that 2006 will be at least kind of quiet. I don't know how to end this or sum anything up, so: God bless us, every one.
OH! and there are new pictures at the photojournal.
Guess what I am suddenly doing with my evening?
OMG ARE BLAIR AND NATE AND SERENA REALLY GOING TO GO TO THE SAME COLLEGE? ARE BLAIR AND SERENA ENEMIES AGAIN? WHAT ABOUT THE LITTLE EMO DUDE? WHY DOES NATE SUCK SO BAD?
And most importantly, perhaps,
WHY DO YOU SUCK ME IN, GOSSIP GIRL? I AM NOT FOURTEEN.
The Silence Xperiment-Hump My Tunnel (Black Eyed Peas vs. the Arcade Fire)
Seriously. Why would you do that? Why?
I am back at work. Same job, same people who gave me a gift certificate three weeks ago, same religious differences, BUT! I have a (temporary) Corner Office With A Window And A Laptop Connected To A Regular Monitor, Which I Do Not Understand. Also an exposed brick wall. I'm tired and it's snowing and there is supposed to be four to six inches by tonight, and seriously, dudes, this is quite enough.
This is the best movie that I've seen in quite some time. And because this entry is scattered as hell already, I will include the Most Amusing Thing I Heard On NPR this morning and then go back to work.
French authorities are just now learning to blame rap music for violence.
It is 4:28 in the afternoon and I have not recieved ONE SINGLE THING in my email today.
What the fuck, email, what the fuck.
1. If I take up with a married man who refuses to leave his wife for me, I will go crazy and start going through his garbage and you will be able to tell that I am crazy because I wear the same trenchcoat 24/7 and it is all dirty from going through the garbage and every time I am filmed the camera angle is horribly tilted, and I will eventually throw myself off a balcony and die.
2. If I have the sex with a man before I am married, he will attempt to trick me into having an abortion by telling me we are getting married at the courthouse but instead attempt to drive me to a doctor to "get rid of it" and I will instantly develop a currently nonexistent maternal instinct and protest and say I want the baby and throw myself out of the car and land on the grass and everything and not get hurt, but I will still miscarry because miscarriage is REALLY REALLY EASY.
3. If I take up with a second married man and at the same time attempt to advance my career, I will recieve heaps of scorn from my male colleagues because no one wants a woman who can pay for her own shit and I will become career-oriented while simultaneously breaking it off with the married man because I will realize that he will never leave his wife and I will be triumphant, yet I will somehow mysteriously end up with one of the dudes who told me that I was too powerful at my editing company because Joan Crawford will come back and take my job.
4. If I decide that ballet dancing is my life and have endless conversations with my ballet director about how dancing is like breathing but then I fall in love with my orchestra conductor and leave the ballet company to marry and support him, I will become depressed and gaze at my ballet shoes longingly and attempt to rejoin the ballet company but my husband will get really pissed off because my triumphant return to the ballet company will be on the same night that he is conducting his symphony for the very first time and he will leave his opening night to come tell me that I cannot be his wife and a dancer, and he will have a fight with my ballet director and I will become so conflicted and torn by the whole situation that I will run out and throw myself in front of a moving train and die.
5. If I run off with a man who is revealed as being highly duplicitous and have the sex with him, and I am fifteen, I will require the help of a friend of the family to arrange a marriage that is pretty much a sham and I will be the scorn of my entire community and Judi Dench will totally hate me.
It was a highly instructional weekend.
Waiting for a new temp job in the beginning of winter is sort of getting to me. The fact that there is a GIANT HOLE IN MY CEILING that it has taken the people fixing it A WEEK TO FIX (upon leaving for Thanksgiving my ceiling had one leak. Upon returning it had FIVE. FIVE LEAKS. And apparently the best way to fix it, once it took them a DAY AND A HALF to discover the source of the leak, was to take out the entire kitchen ceiling. Pictures of the tore-ass ceiling coming soon), thereby driving me from my house between 9 am and 5 pm this entire week without really having anyplace to go and not knowing how to undock my laptop so I have to rely on the library is getting to me. My lack of groceries is getting to me. The snow, however, is lovely.
There is going to someday soon (as soon as my editor is done mocking me for spelling errors) be a new thing that I wrote over here. I need more books to read. I need to stop obsessing over money and the fact that this year went by way too fucking fast and apparently this is something that even my horoscope understands. Perhaps if I believed in astrology I'd be less neurotic. Or more insufferable. Either way.
