Wednesday, June 30, 2004

if you see my self gathering dust in a corner somewhere, do let me know

My cute Canadian e-mail buddy just sent me a link that is quite relevant to what all us post-college kiddies have been belly-aching about since, well, college. According to the Vice Guide to "Finding Yourself" all I have left to do is backpack through Europe, do all sorts of drugs, dye my hair, and go to therapy and then my soul will be at ease. A FAB-style stay across the pond is in the works, but the drugs might have to wait as I already have more than my fair share of addictions. And I do dye my hair and get therapy, though the former is in the form of golden blonde highlights from a schmancy salon, and the latter is free (you know who you are.) It seems like I'm getting close though. I wonder what my self looks like.

blogger's block

"Sancho in Doorway"
by Via Carrie
Mexico, January 2004

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

the super deluxe music edition

*Best part of a interview with Ambulance LTD [via Stereogum] (whose album is lovely, by the way, though I must warn that my mom liked it too, but the lead singer is gorgeous...anyway):

VH1: Is Avril setting a good example for girls?
Matt: Yes. Why? I'll tell you. Because in that song she's kind of mad because her boyfriend thought she was gonna have sex with him. I think that's nice. Chastity is a good quality. I think it's good. Especially when you're Avril Lavigne and you're ... how old is she? Like 12 or something?
VH1: She's 19.
Marcus: She should give it up by now.

*While watching some quality television programming last night, I saw a commercial for Coors' new low-carb abomination Aspen Edge. I spent the entire commercial stewing over where for the love of God I'd heard the song before, then realized it's on my favorite lying in the hammock while smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone album, My Morning Jacket's It Still Moves. I've been intrigued by this good indie music as background phenomenon for years, of course on car commercials but especially on MTV. The music for all the non-music shows is almost always whatever really good indie or electronic or underground hip hop is going on at the moment. So somebody out there knows what the good stuff is, but for whatever reason the kids these days just aren't ready to hear Spoon without Nick and Jessica running around on the screen.

*Perplexa and I finally came up with a name for our band. I can't share it with you because it's so hot someone would surely steal it, but I will say that it neither starts with "the" nor has ever been done before, guaranteed. Now we just have to, like, learn how to play instruments other than the clarinet and the flute and we're in business.

Monday, June 28, 2004


If I attempt to say anything remotely serious today I'm afraid I'll be shipped off to a padded room somewhere, so until my neurons calm the fuck down, you can read this gripping article about the McDonald's Olympics [via where else?]:

"Behold the perfection of an order of French fries served up by Luis Casanova. The crispness, the hotness, the just-the-right-amount-of-salt-ness. And don't forget that smile when he serves up that tasty bag of McDonald's potatoes. Casanova, 39, has worked hard to perfect his technique."

"Participants are paired up with a judge and scored on things like hand-washing and how long it takes to assemble an order."

I'm convinced that the Local Paper is secretly an Onionesque parody and somebody somewhere in Central Wis is laughing his or her ass off.

And, now that I've finally got a shiny little Mac that holds eighty bajillion songs, I can play the ITunes shuffle game, which turned out to be far less embarassing than it could have been (plus, the juxtaposition of the last two is just brilliant):

Television - Elevation
The Cure - Boys Dont Cry
Delays - Zero Zero One
Kiss - Back In the New York Groove
The Lemonheads - It's A Shame About Ray
Black Sheep - This or That
Monaco - What Do You Want From Me
The Smiths - Shoplifters of the World
The Velvet Underground - Who Loves the Sun
Bjork - Big Time Sensuality
Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds
Dido - Thank You
REM - The Great Beyond
Madonna - Ray Of Light
Jagged Edge ft. Nelly - Where the Party At
Cat Stevens - Father and Son

Friday, June 25, 2004

hot town

Yesterday I walked home from work, as I tend to do when the weather is at least semi-nice and I want an excuse not to go to the gym. I'm always in love with the city no matter what it does to me, but sometimes there are just these moments when things seem so perfect they could only happen here. And it's usually when the everyday experiences become special, like my commute home last night.

*Just two blocks from my building I spied my old buddy Jacob the Cute Rickshaw Driver. Since he was on the job and couldn't stop for long, he offered me a ride to Central Park, as he was headed there anyway to pick up some tourists at the Plaza. He pedaled, I sat, and we chatted about jobs, friends, plans, etc. Except for the fact that you feel like you're going to fall forward into a sea of concrete and cars, this is not a bad way to travel.

*While walking up the Center Drive with my headphones on full blast I heard a car honk and a "Hey" and turned to see a large, nice-looking black man leaning toward the passenger-side window.
Man: Where'd you get your sneakers? I can't find them anywhere!
Me: Oh I'm sorry! I got them in LA. ["I got it in LA" is a phrase that would normally cause me pain, but, well, I did get the limited edition Starsky and Hutch Adidas in LA]

He smiled and drove off, and I put my headphones back on. Then came another honk. My new friend had a huge grin on his face and held up a black hightop Adidas sneaker. I gave him a thumbs up and a "Niiiiice." Big black man and little white girl bond over their sneakers--a little music in the background and this would've made a great commercial.

*Still laughing from that interaction, I approached the sand volleyball court where, apparently, the Gorgeous Shirtless Man Coalition was playing a match. And we're not talking two or three cute guys here. There were about twenty...all shirtless, all hot. Note to self: take this route more frequently, and carry your camera at all times.

*Finally, at long long long last, it's Friday!!!! Rock on. Sleep. Tell your psycho-conservative boss you're seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 this weekend and watch him explode.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

beerr and paahp

Since I'm such a fuckin' rockstar and went out two whole nights in a row and stayed up till *gasp* midnight on both of them, I'm too tired/uninspired to write anything of my own. Please allow me to direct you elsewhere:

*I am in love, and his name is Buddy. The non-canine pics on this new site are great too, but seriously, what in the world is better than a little smiling mutt with crooked ears?

*Newyorkish is back in business and has lots of fun time-killing links, but the Skanky Bizarro Olsen Twins take the cake.

*"While seated on the bench, an Oklahoma judge used a male enhancement pump, shaved and oiled his nether region, and pleasured himself, state officials charged yesterday in a petition to remove the jurist." [thanks, Ellen]

*I don't think I'll ever get over being amused by the dietary habits of my people. My favorite quote from a Local Paper front page news article on the 30th Annual Polka Fest: "On the menu are brats, chicken, roast beef, cheese curds and french fries. 'Plus we'll have plenty of beer and pop,' Perko said."

*Gag me with a spoon.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

how to crush my heart into itty bitty pieces

As many of you may be aware, I like eating. A singing fat lady will fly out of my ass before I ever utter the phrase, "Oh, I forgot to eat." I just cannot relate to people who say such nonsense, as food is at the forefront of my consciousness pretty much all the time. It gets me to work in the morning, keeps me company in my little multi-monitor pod, and when I'm running or biking or ellipticalling at the gym I'm also visualizing the burrito I'll be having immediately afterwards. So, naturally, when something gets in the way of my carefully thought out eating plans I get a little *ahem* cranky.

Today I waited patiently all morning for the clock to strike 11:30, which I consider to be the earliest acceptable time to eat lunch. I rarely hold out that long though, so my stomach was extra talkative. Before I even returned to my pod with the precious food--I don't get one of those fancy hour-long break things I've heard talk about--Stereotypical Boss said, "You need to fill out a Patriot Act form for blah blah billion dollar account right away [and I don't have any information on the account whatsoever so you'll have to go downstairs to get the file which is thicker than Fatboss' thigh and page through all of it to find the necessary information and then collect some signatures and go back downstairs with the form filled out.]" First, screw Dubya and that silly act. Second, I think it is a testament to my maturity that I completed this task as my pesto pasta with tomato and giant mozzarella chunks called my name without crying or seriously injuring someone.

I'm going to have to conclude this one, as Fatboss is currently dancing to Big Important But Actually Very Tiny Chicago Boss's "In Da Club" ringtone and Mr. Fartypants at the end of the desk is working up a storm, so to speak. There has never been a better cue to leave for a little coffee/chocolate break.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

two things that are unrelated but funny (to me)

*Sorry, guys, but Britney just ain't lookin' so hot. I have to agree with Ellen though--ugly Britney is way more fun. Now that she's got skin problems, noticeable body fat, and a penchant for booze and cigarettes, I can actually relate to the girl. Go Britney.

*The Television Without Pity Real World recaps are always delightful if you follow the show. This week's had me laughing out loud by repeatedly referring to Jacquese's parents as Macquese and Pacquese (just say it out loud.) I also especially enjoyed the following paragraph, as I had the same feelings while watching the show: "The roommates arrive at work. Robin interviews that they got there at 10:45, and that Troy wasn't very happy. Troy tells them that they were close to being on time, but that they were still late. Cameran asks sadly if they lost their bonus for the day. Troy says that it's 'like a normal job,' and that 'bonuses are for excelling, not just meeting.' So being late is meeting expectations? And being on time would be exceeding expectations? What the fuck? Where do I get one of these jobs?"

connect me, baby

I used to kill many an hour at work with Craigslist, until, as you may recall, the Company Computer Nazis took it away from me. This is probably for the best, as it's purely mindless entertainment--the internet equivalent of reality television. I hadn't read the Missed Connections much at all lately, since it's just not as exciting when you have better things to do (i.e., just about anything.) Last night, however, I found myself starting to watch the two most upsetting and unnecessary reality shows yet--The Ashlee Simpson Show and Who Wants to Marry My Dad Season 2--and Craigslist seemed like a bastion of intellectual stimulation. And, lo and behold, what should I find?

Mercury Lounge on Saturday - Tall Blonde - m4w
Date: 2004-06-21, 12:38PM EDT

We were there most of the night. Dirty on Purpose. Benzos. The Bravery.

You're tall, short blonde hair, had on a white t-shirt.

I'm 6'2", had on a short-sleeve blue shirt and jeans, reall short dark hair.

The girl I was with wasn't my girlfriend. But I don't usually pick up
on women at clubs.

Wished I went up and talked to you.

I can't say I'm overly impressed with the fact that he didn't bother to talk to me in a BAR while I was very obviously drinking lots of BEER, but details schmetails--I got a Missed Connection!

Monday, June 21, 2004

the weekend update

I don't know if it's the weather or what, but lately I haven't been feeling like going out much. (Or else that's just what I'm telling myself to cover up the fact that I'm a lame-o.) In any case, my weekend was relaxing and lovely.

*Friday. It was hectic for all in Manhattan Corporate Whoreland, probably because the bosses were off watching golf in the Hamptons. You couldn't have paid me to go out to a bar or a party or a show, so Perplexa and I went to Ellen's for an evening which, aside from the three bottles of red wine we had no problem consuming, became a return to junior high sans acne and crippling insecurity. Pizza, Ben & Jerry's, DeGrassi, My So-Called Life, Basketball Diaries, Ace of Base sing-a-long....yeah, as VH1 knows, the 90's nostalgia is back. Somebody please give me a good beating when I start wearing oversized flannel again.

*Saturday. After a day of bonding with my futon, I decided to rejoin the living and went to Mercury Lounge with Perplexa. Every single time we go out together--when it's just the two of us--we have strange interactions with strange men that end when one of us rescues the other from some ridiculous conversation. Fortunately, Saturday's strange man required no conversation in exchange for drinks as he bought them anonymously through the bartender. I didn't think that actually ever happened--he must watch a lot of movies. Anyway, this freed us up to talk to the boys in the bands. Speaking of which, if you like music that's pretty yet rockin' and a little shoegazey, I'd highly recommend Dirty on Purpose. If you like cute boys, I'd recommend Benzos.


Friday, June 18, 2004


I know none of you need another bikini wax story. It's been done. But let me just add this:

Ladies, do not assume that your waxing technician speaks English just because she smiles and nods and says "okay" when you give her instructions. If you're going Brazilian, I'd even suggest you bring along a Sharpie marker to outline restricted areas. That is all. Thank you.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

verna's "box of goodies"

The goods have arrived. Waiting outside my door when I got home yesterday was a big box, courtesy of Ebay and a nice old lady named Verna, who lives in Alberta. (I feel a limerick coming on. Anyway.) As my parents are too quick to point out, I am not at a loss for stuff, so lately I've been trying, with marginal success, to limit my purchases to things that are either essential (new computer,) so mindblowingly awesome I want to marry them (Levi's 1970 684 Big Bells replica,) or utterly ridiculous (Verna's goodies.) The gas pump shaped liquor dispenser certainly falls into the last category, and I think this item is somewhere between the second and the third:

After removing the vintage "shirt" from it's protective Ziploc baggie, I admired it's shiny smoothness for a good ten minutes. Then I went to the gym.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

free image hosting sucks, apparently

But this cab story on Lindsayism does not suck. Neither do the latest two Blacktable links o' the day.

attack of the park avenue and los angeles aliens

Check out today's (my favorite photoblog--not that I know much about photoblogs--now linked on the right) for evidence as to why I will never get plastic surgery (except for maybe a little thigh lipo down the road--thanks, Mom.) There's just something creepy about older women all tightened and tarted up and the way they end up looking almost exactly the same. I think it's the super-slanty eyes and permanent Joker grins.

beauty's where you find it, not just where you bump and grind it

Awwww sheeit, this is too funny. And since it's all going down mere steps from my abode I feel obliged to do some crashing. Via Gawker:

"BREAKING! The Vogue vs. Teen Vogue soccer match has been postponed

'Due to impending inclement weather and pre-release tomorrow, the soccer match scheduled for tomorrow will instead be played: MONDAY, JUNE 21. Riverside Park and 70th St. 7 PM. VOGUE vs. TEEN VOGUE. Riverside.'

Oglers, latent pedophiles, and lovers of hilarity, please mark your calendars."

Incidentally, I'll be rooting for Teen Vogue, the publication of which I get just a little too excited about each month. Grownup Vogue went downhill ages ago, in my not so humble opinion, and after ignoring about 800 "very special deal if you renew NOW" cards, I have been freed from its grasp.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

very important news roundup

*Aaaaaaah white trash drama. This little police blurb courtesy of the esteemed Local Paper is special on oh so many levels (I've counted five):

A 30-year-old Marshfield woman reported an unknown woman in a bride's dress picked her up by her hair at 1:30 p.m. Sunday while she was dancing at Elixir Lounge and Nite Club, 434 S. Central Ave. After getting away from the bride, the 30-year-old woman said a man she identified as the groom pushed her down a flight of stairs inside the establishment.

*Also from the Local Paper is the announcement of the birth of little Kalob Mykal Yeager. Something tells me this poor kid won't be winning spelling bees anytime soon...

*Like the Local Paper but for the opposite reason, Pitchfork is a news source that is frequently just too easy to make fun of. However, despite the incomprehensibly haughty writing, it points me in the direction of good, new music, and sometimes it's so spot on I cry tears of joy. If you've seen the latest Lenny Kravitz video, which "finds everyone's favorite half-Jew waking up with approximately 12 naked models, partying on a private jet, passing out backstage, waking up to shake around more frills than a Roger Daltrey montage, scratching his bidness on a piano, then running backstage again to stare introspectively and drunkly into a mirror," you'll know what this guy's talking about (scroll to bottom.)

*Last but not least, some news commentary via my friend E's boss' friend in Hong Kong:

"Factory workers mangled by machinery. Exploding gas wells poisoning villages. School-fireworks factories blowing up. The glorious motherland consolidates its global leadership in imaginative industrial safety mayhem, courtesy of the Great Garlic Disaster of 2004:

'30 in China Buried in Garlic Pile; 11 Die
BEIJING (AP) - Storage shelves stacked high with garlic collapsed in central China, burying 30 workers and killing 11 of them, state media reported Thursday.'

The accident Wednesday morning in Henan province prompted a large rescue operation to dig out workers weighed down by the massive pile of garlic shoots and broken shelving, the Beijing Times and other newspapers reported. What a way to go. The death toll from the Great Garlic Disaster of 2004 has risen to 15. Clearly, we must treat this substance with more respect in future. Many are the times I have crushed cloves of garlic totally oblivious to the possibility that they can do the same to me."

Monday, June 14, 2004

hot fun in the summertime

Such a good weekend. Oftentimes, days and days will go by in which nothing notable happens, and then people ask what I've been up to and all I have to talk about are burritos and reality television. Well this weekend was the opposite of that--nothing mind-blowing or anything, just good times with good people. Rather than blather on endlessly, I think I'll break this up into little episodes (who needs those pesky transition sentences anyway?) and throw in some purdy pictures.

*The Heights. Ahhh The Heights. This is one of the two college bars in which I spent way more time than class. For happy hour on Friday, I met up with L, who is getting up at 4:30 a.m. six days per week this summer to row, and another L, who just returned from far off lands. The man who mixed me countless Long Island Iced Teas freshman year is still bartending so I felt at home, and thanks to a couple of his margaritas I was wasted by 8 p.m. After a regrettable drunken email or two and a bag of tortilla chips with salsa and cream cheese (it seemed like a good idea at the time) I had to call it a night.

this girl has the best laugh in the world

*Laicale. It took me five years to do so, but I've finally found my hair place. Bumble schmumble, Laicale is so much more sane and favorably located. I also have a weird fascination with my stylist, Brian. I'd never had a guy cut my hair before, but the first time I went there he was wearing the coolest boots ever and I had to have him next. We've hardly spoken because I'm all shy and awkward sometimes and he's all sweet and quiet (also, it just seems weird to chat it up with someone who's got a sharp object near your head,) but I know we could be buddies if we, like, talked or something.

thanks, laicale brian

*Afternoon with Drone. Great minds do, indeed, think alike. With no prior consultation, Drone and I booked appointments at Laicale for the same day, around the same time. We walked around Soho in between appointments and the East Village afterwards. The weather Saturday was simply perfect, and illegal to go margaritas combined with the informal dog show in the park made the day even more perfect. Except for one minor detail...

isn't she lovely?

*El accidente. After the dog show, I was hungry as usual, so Drone and I went to Esperanto for a cuban sandwich and more margaritas. While getting up to use the facilities, I sprained my ankle Susie-style (i.e., tripping over nothing while attempting to walk under the influence of not that much alcohol.) It's not as severe as her sprain was, but I have a sexy limp thing going on. I'm usually quite resposible when it comes to my health, but sometimes I'm like the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, who, in case you don't recall, shrieked "it's only a flesh wound!" as his limbs were being lopped off. As such, I treated the injured ankle by dancing on it for five hours straight...

dancin' fools

*Misshapes. Like the last time I went to this party, 5 a.m. came upon me with no warning. The night was full of friends making out, friends doing things even I am too prude for, friends running into long-lost friends, and a sleazy Spaniard whose hands kept finding their way up my skirt until said friends thankfully intervened (see if you can find him in the photo below.) Also, I could not hold onto anything. I remember sending four vodka tonics flying, which means there were probably more than that, and I dropped my 5 a.m. hot dog on myself and woke up Sunday morning smelling like a vodka, mustard, and sauerkraut cocktail. Yum.

where's waldo?

*Hungover afternoon with Drone. Miraculously and after much prodding, I managed to drag myself outside on Sunday for a stroll through the West Village. I'm so glad I did, because not only did we witness a hilarious interaction between a group of homeless men and unfortunately-dressed tourists, but I had one of my best celebrity sitings to date. Walking near the Marc Jacobs store with a nondescript B-list actor boy in tow was none other than Nicky Hilton. I gawked for a little too long as she walked past me (had to get a good look) and she glared. She had stringy, jet black hair that was all matted in the back and absurdly tan skin, and, of course, she was way shorter than she looks on TV.

not nicky hilton

Thursday, June 10, 2004

afternoon ramblings

*I will never complain about my name again. Behold, Professor Chew Shit Fun [thanks, E] and her colleagues at Dream Team University.

*At long last, there is a cute boy in my office. Tall, dark, curly-haired perfection. Hooray for summer interns. Today I held the door for him, and he said, "Thanks." I'll keep you posted on the developing romance.

*No work tomorrow. Thanks, Ronald! I'm very much looking forward to my long weekend. Not sure exactly what's going down yet, but you can rest assured that I will be here trying to resist the urge to slip a few puppies into my tote bag.

comin' down is the hardest thing

It has been almost exactly a year since I began my employment at JP Morgan Stanley Goldman Stearns Lynch Brothers. Weird. The sizable bi-monthly checks and complete lack of any responsibilities save for sitting relatively still in front of a computer for 9.25 hours a day have made it one of the easiest. The complete lack of goals or purpose or meaning or convictions (is this steak vegetarian?) or anything at all for my poor young soul to cling to have made it one of the hardest. It may seem as though I haven't really done much of anything, but, as a matter of fact, I've learned quite a few important things. Now maybe THIS year I'll be ready to, like, get a legitimate hobby. Maybe even one that doesn't involve drinking, blogging, and making out. Anyway, behold my newfound wisdom:

*No matter how many baby strollers patrol the sidewalks near your apartment, do not fail to lock the door to your terrace, especially when the window leading from your apartment to the terrace has been left wide open. My replacement computer and undies are super cute, but the old ones did just fine, thanks.

*If for four years you worked out twice a day, five or six days a week, and then you become almost completely sedentary, you cannot maintain the same caloric intake and be utterly shocked when you go up a pants size or two and finally start filling out your bras.

*Tanning beds feel good and they make you look better. If you are fair-skinned and have not been going to nude beaches since childhood, do not use them without wearing undergarments. There are some things that have never seen the sun, and when subjected to direct ultra-violet rays they will get angry and make you think you have all kinds of crazy diseases.

[these last two bear no mention of underwear of any sort--sorry]

*Los Angeles is not the hell hole New Yorkers make it out to be, and I’ll freely admit that I do not hate it. In fact, I kinda like it. A lot. But not as much as New York. Please.

*I’m still a retard when it comes to the boys. Relashawhat?

Image Hosted by

For some reason, this picture really resonated with me today.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

a story for the ages

Once upon a time, I filled out an online survey in the hopes of earning myself a free Guinness towel. Yesterday all my dreams came true, and I am now the prowd owner of an approximately 8 by 12 inch piece of cloth. You too can fill out the survey, which requires you to estimate the number of drinks you have per month (quite a sobering task,) and get yourself a free Guinness magnet. Please allow 1-2 years for delivery. Offer not valid in all states. Sorry, Tennessee.

new pants and cardigan sweaters = success

Yesterday at about 4:55 i had a little come-to-Jesus talk with my boss. (I don't know if "come-to-Jesus" is an established phrase or if my friend Raegan just made it up, but she uses it all the time and now I do too because I like it, along with most transgressions of the Second Commandment. Anyway.) I had a minor heart attack when he summoned me over to his three square feet of desk space and said "well you've been here a year now..." but chilled when it was apparent I still had a job and that he really wants to help me do well. Essentially, he recognizes that I'm not always gung-ho about work, and now that it's been a year and I know how to take care of all the mundane secretarial type crap, it's time to "learn the business." And how do I do this? Brown-nose more. That's it, really, and in his words. Like the other youngun on my desk, I should stand up and ask Ol' Sport inane questions until there's bullshit coming out my ears. This fake, schmoozy behavior pretty much represents the polar opposite of my personality, so I've got quite the challenge. Honestly, I'm doubtful that I can hack it, (and if I can't Boss will help me find something else to do, which is fuckin awesome and generous of him,) but what can you do in such a situation besides give it the college try. My transformation commenced with the one thing I do know how to do: buy clothes. I even braved the royal bitches at the Theory store on Columbus Ave. Now that's dedication.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

i <3 ebay

Where else can you find--and decide that you NEED to own--something like this?

Image Hosted by

For the record, it's a liquor dispenser in the form of a 1920's gas pump. You make drinks (or drink directly) from the gas nozzle. It also lights up.

Monday, June 07, 2004

oh-so important mid-day updates

*I just accidentally found the Friendster profile of the serious girlfriend of one of my all-time favorite Boysivesleptwith. She looks nice and cool. Good for them. After a cig to recover from the little punch in the tummy, I returned to find this email from E: "well, you're hotter but she's jewish. what can you do." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what friends are for.

*Fatboss is currently purchasing a "Peace Through Superior Firepower" T-Shirt from this website, purveyor of "pro-gun and pro-liberty products for fellow gun-owners and conservatives!" He offered to buy me one, but I had to decline.

*Speaking of shirts, I am about to break into virgin fashion territory. The most risque I get is a cute tube top with a pair of jeans and big ol' boots. But something is compelling me to buy this shirt (if you can even call it that) which I've found elsewhere in a demure silver color for only $20. I will, however, only wear it out late at night with a pair of jeans and big ol' boots.

what would jesus eat?

I didn't do much this weekend of note other than eat lots of yummy things (Max and Haagen Dazs and Bacos...oh my) and watch some good movies (Kill Bill, What About Bob, Saved.) However, I've recovered from last week's mystery disease and plan to spend less time bonding with my futon this week. Until I have something vaguely interesting to say, behold:

*The Hallelujah Diet. Like rock music and brightly colored woven lanyards (??), the Christians once again demonstrate their hipness to the country's trends.

*I doubt Jesus ate much cheese, but oh my gosh the Marshfieldians do. This past weekend was Dairyfest, which is by far the biggest event of the year. The whole town becomes consumed with dairy fever. My sis, who is living at home for a bit--bless her heart--went to the roller rink where there were people designated to skate around and hand out free cheese. Wisconsin is the second fattest state in the country and darn proud of it!

*Speaking of fat, here is an amazing scientific discovery courtesy of the news pioneers at I made this discovery all by myself last summer, and now, with the problem semi-rectified, all my expensive work pants are too big. [via My Friend Ellen]

*Vintage Cool Things. This post has inadvertently become all about food (as they all should be, really), but I have to mention this website I just found, which I could call yummy if I wanted to be annoying. The site offers high quality vintage goods (including stuff for boys!) at very affordable prices, most notably, some gorgeous shoes that my clodhoppers don't have a prayer of fitting in. I did, however, slamdunk that whole multistrand necklace trend for a mere $30.

*Last but not least, thanks to Ronald (not MacDonald,) I may have half of Thursday and all of Friday off work (almost like last week!) At least that's the word on the street. Hahaha, get it, STREET?

Friday, June 04, 2004


*The Spelling Bee yesterday was excellent. Perplexa called during the last round, and I couldn't stop talking about the "extreme spelling" (they actually said that) and cheered when my favorite kid won. I think she thought I was insane, but she already knew I'm a big nerd--high school math team, anyone? Anyway, nerd or not, you'll probably enjoy this video of the 1997 Bee Champion, who is supposedly the basis for Molly Shannon's Mary Katherine Gallagher character on SNL.

*THANK GOD. [via Stereogum]

*I'm so lightheaded right now that I think I'm going to pass out like one of the kids in the Spelling Bee yesterday and I'm kind of crying so I think it's time to go home (in an expensed Towncar...mmm.) Have a lovely weekend.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

good news

First, a big fat congratulations to my main man Drone for rocking his big important interview. He certainly deserves a good break after putting up with Robo for so long.

So I had my licensing exam this morning. Apparently, my test-preparation method of not reading the study materials, a couple days of excessive drinking, a couple nights of not sleeping, and going to a rock show last night was adequate to pass the exam. It has, however, left me with a nasty cold/flu type illness. When I called the bosses to report the news, Stereotypicalboss answered and was delighted because, as banker types do, he and Fatboss made a bet on the exam outcome and now Fatboss owes him lunch. Nice to have their full support. But STBoss let me have the day off, so now I'm chugging diet ginger ale and watching the 2004 National Spelling Bee LIVE! on ESPN. Aside from the whole wanting to dissociate from my body thing, I really couldn't be happier.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

aqui esta ella

Lately, Tuesdays have been my favorite TV-watching days as they're loaded with gems like Next Top Model, Showbiz Moms and Dads, American Idol, Queer Eye, and the Real World. Since most of the aforementioned shows have recently left us, I was worried that spending yesterday evening hungover on the couch would be sadly unfulfilling. But oh was I ever wrong. I'm not usually the laugh out loud at the TV type, but one very special program had me in constant tears of joy. Miss Universe Pageant, I salute you. The highlights:

*The glitch in the opening scene that caused the introductions for Miss Geor-gee-yaaaaah and Miss Germany to repeat no less than eight times.

*Hoping that cohost Billy Bush was related to George W, thinking that it was too good to be true but that they do look eerily similar in that chimpanzee kinda way, and finding out via Google that he is indeed Dubya's nephew.

*The litany of esteemed judges, including the two Apprentice finalists, "supermodels" who are not in fact supermodels, and the World Speedwalking Champion. Of course.

*The lone circus performer doing tricks on a rope BEHIND the audience during the evening gown montage. Wha??

*Gloria Estefan's first performance, in which her microphone was not working properly and all you could hear were the band and the pre-recorded vocals.

*Gloria Estefan's second performance, in which one of her large, gold earrings fell out and she tried unsuccessfully to turn her head to the side so that no one would notice, and then gave up and pretended that she did not look absolutely ridiculous. (Note: it appeared that ol' Gloria may have been on a large dose of narcotic painkillers, so it's quite possible that she really did not notice.)

*Being told by Miss Universe 2003 that MY dream in life is to be Miss Universe. If you too are a girl, don't hesitate to enter next year's competition, as this is apparently your dream as well.

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

so proud

Ladies and Gentlemen, the other half of my most (i.e., only) serious relationship thus far.

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