Archive
you have really outdone yourselves.
Fuck this attempting to keep a goldfish alive shit. I'M GETTING A HEDGEHOG.
"That assface! I'll bet he's, like, 63."
Actually, that was the only thing that I overheard. But it was from the bartender, in reference to something assface-y one of the commentators said.
Like approximately every other girl in America, I secretly love the ice skating. I love that Johnny Weir has a MySpace profile, and that he named his glove that he wore in one of his routines. For purely arbitrary reasons, mostly to do with the fact that she just looks so excited all the time, and that her older sister is named Sarah, I love Emily Hughes. I do not love how during her routine last night the commentators kept discussing her like she was a slightly stupid child who had gotten an A on the spelling test. I love that my friend said that "Sasha Cohen sounds like a hooker name" so I can report that she said it so I don't have to say it. I love that in the first week of the couples skating, one of the teams (Russia? I think?) skated a routine choreographed to Kashmir by Led Zeppelin. KASHMIR! I love how they showed Sasha Cohen singing to her IPod while riding a stationary bike in full makeup before she skated last night. I love that Scott Hamilton will be remembered for more than hosting Skating With Celebrities. I love how a great deal of the female skaters really kind of look bitchy. But most of all, I love how none of the skaters look pissed if they win less than gold, nor do they attribute their success to their poor grandmother dead these thirteen years if they do win gold.
The heat went out in my office sometime this weekend. They didn't see fit to rectify the situation until this morning. As a result, I am sitting in my office wearing a hat, scarf and coat, and I would be wearing my gloves if I possessed the ability to type wearing gloves. Apparently PCs are sensitive to cold as well, because as of this writing my computer has frozen and needed to be restarted THIRTEEN (13) TIMES.
In summary: Fuck.
In further summary: Emily, is Paris any warmer right now?
You scored as Galactica (Battlestar: Galactica). You are leery of your surroundings, and with good reason. Anyone could be a cylon. But you have close friends and you know they would never hurt you. Now if only the damn XO would stop drinking.Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics)created with QuizFarm.com
I promise that one day I will return to actual writing. Just not today.
PS: THUNDERSNOW.
Variations On The Word Love
This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
like real hearts. Add lace
and you can sell
it. We insert it also in the one empty
space on the printed form
that comes with no instructions. There are whole
magazines with not much in them
but the word love, you can
rub it all over your body and you
can cook with it too. How do we know
it isn't what goes on at the cool
debaucheries of slugs under damp
pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising
their glittering knives in salute.
Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
four letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. You can
hold on or let go.
-Margaret Atwood
From my inbox:
Heya Pito,
I was thinking how great life is, cause we have the decision to pick and
choose what we want.
Last month I came across this place to get my m Ed's w/o all the red tape
at. It's great b/c I can get them from my office or at home sitting in my
PJ's.
ebdul and phuoung and I, all went to
www.journeyman.substituent.herdfds.org/ahr/ to get our goods at.
Talk to ya later,
Krisztina
1. I never used to get spam in my gmail. NEVER. What the fuck, gmail?
2. Life IS great, Krisz. You are so very right and that is an excellent thing to think about. Can I call you Krisz?
3. I am making everyone call me Pito from now on, especially when they are bringing me my m'Ed's. Is that like McDonald's?
4. Well, if Ebdul went, I'm sold.
this is not photoshopped
I watched and (paid full attention to) the Superbowl this year for the first time, like, ever, and I liked it. I still can't tell a quarterback from a running back, nor will I ever condone or sanction dudes with long hair and/or dreadlocks who play football, but I am pleased with myself for finally getting out of the "OMG I'm a girl I can't like football it's so violent squee" nonsense.
The halftime show was another story. Granted, I have never seen the Rolling Stones play live, and granted watching Mick Jagger run around like some sort of foxy rooster (yeah, I found him sort of foxy. What?) was entertaining, but it seems kind of counterintuitive to me that they made some sort of anti-current-American-government statement on their newest album and then agreed outright to be censored. The audio on the performance was so uneven anyway--would anyone have even noticed or understood what they were saying if they didn't know what the songs said already? I'm sick of the hysteria that's still surrounding the halftime show as an annual event, I'm sick of how very little it takes for America to whip itself into hysterics. Is this just a first step? I'm saddened that this is yet another example of a band that used to be so...so dangerous, that used to mean something, pounding itself into irrelevance, and I'm afraid I can't be more eloquent than that.
Beyond the Superbowl everything around here is pretty much status quo. I just learned this morning that all temps are required to get tuberculosis shots and I have to get one this afternoon. This will, children, be the first time that I have gotten a shot for anything since I was like seven, and I am oddly excited. Yet: Does this mean that people in mental hospitals get tuberculosis regularly? I also kind of have health insurance sort of for the first time in three years, but that is a story for another time. And I am going to go think about something that is not bunnies now. Because: eeeeeeeeeeee.
