droller than thou.

oh such a perfect day; you just keep me hanging on.

Has it really been approximately one year since I complained about not being able to eat quiche on Easter and then went on to complain about Rock of Love/the backlash against feminism?  My, how time flies when you're writing a bunch of shit that nobody cares about.

So, just in case you didn't notice (you know--by the lack of available restaurant choices, smashed eggs  strewn everywhere, and Zombie Jesus roaming the land on roller skates, shooting laser beams out of his eyes) yesterday was Easter. 

Usually my family does some sort of secular-type activity involving food, like breakfast or brunch or second breakfast or elevenses.  But this year, perhaps in keeping with their New Year's resolution to be crappy parents, my Mom and Dad totally ditched us to go hang out with their friends who have a hot tub.  Oh yeah?  Well, two can play at that game, progenitors.  If you need me, I'll be sitting alone in my shitty little bathtub that's incapable of filling to a satisfying water level, shoving cold ham into my mouth and crying.  Jealous?  Too bad.  You can't come.

Anyhoo.  Yesterday was actually a very enjoyable day for me, despite any rumors you may have heard about crying in bathtubs.  I had a very satisfying workout sesh (that's what we call them in The Business), followed by a very pleasant afternoon spent sitting on a bar patio, drinking my drank and reading a book.  Did I mention that the weather was fucking fantastic?  Well, it was.  And we all know how I feel about pleasant weather: it's pleasant.  After I was nice and liquored up, I went for a leisurely drive around town with all the car windows down, singing along to The Rolling Stones.  Just kidding about that last sentence--I would never be so irresponsible.  It was The Beatles. 

After careening home, I took a brief nap on the couch (a feat of which I'm rarely capable) and then it was off for a walk around my various neighborhood parks, complete with the continuing perfect weather. 

Oh, but wait--you thought Easter was over, didn't you?  Or maybe you were just hoping that I was done with my mundane blabberings?  Well, as Zombie Jesus would say (and in keeping with the spirit of the day): "Fuck you, I'm still talking."

So.  After I got home from my fabulous walk (which, I'm proud to say, only involved one random car honking at my hott azzz), The Mister and I went over to a newly opened establishment, the ABQ Brew Pub, in order to watch the first Sox/Yankees game of the season and eat some schmancy, expensive appetizers (which were actually pretty good--we were just feeling a little cheap at that moment).  It was a great game (for those of you who can actually pay attention to baseball on TV--I am not counted among you, however) and a very pleasant way to end a long, hard day of Easter worship.

Oh, wait!  I almost forgot the most important part of the whole day: I was able to wear my hair in Heidi braids (what I like to call "milkmaid braids") for the very first time!  This is a most exciting development, my friends, as this hairstyle was the original inspiration for growing my hair long.  So, from now on, you can expect to see me with a glorious hair-crown atop my head at all times.  Or at least until I get too lazy and/or hot once the summer hits and then chop off my ridiculously thick hair. 

And for this, I thank you, Zombie Jesus.  Great weather, relaxing activities, and awesome hairdos: you made the day of Your resurrection a truly glorious experience. 

Amen.

on weird hottiez.

Throughout my long, illustrious career as an Awesome Lady Whose Personal Tastes Frequently Veer Into Some Weird Shit (ALWPTFVISWS), I've found myself, from time to time, harboring celebrity crushes on some people who most others consider "conventionally unattractive" or perhaps "weird-looking" or maybe even "kind of child molester-y." 

Well, fuck you, America.  I'm not ashamed of my proclivity for weird hottiez.  Here is a sampling of my lust interests, in no particular order of hottnezzz:

1) Freddie Mercury. What is it about this man that does it for me?  Is it the gayness?  The buckteeth?  The satin jumpsuits?  I'm pretty sure it's the last one.

Don't stop me now.

2) Bill Murray (specifically, 1970s-era SNL Bill Murray).  I love me a funny man.  With pockmarks, apparently.  Oh, Todd--when will you leave Lisa Loopner and realize our perfect, perfect love??

Star Wars/If they should bar wars/Please let these Star Wars/Stay.

3) Jonathan Pryce.  I can't really offer much insight into this one, other than that he possesses the usual features I'm drawn to (dark hair, sizable nose, two heads), plus I was totally obsessed with Brazil in high school/freshman year of college--which are, as we all know, known as "the awkwardly sexy years."

Have you got a 27B-6?

4) Kevin Spacey.  Yeah, I don't know.  Just...hottt.

Hand me the keys, you fucking cocksucker.

5) Jareth, the Goblin King (AKA David Bowie in Labyrinth) [not to be confused with Cherith Cutestory, maritime lawyer, who is also totally hott, but in a more socially acceptable way].  I can't remember if I've ever talked about this here, but when I was a kid I had a gigantic crush on Jareth.  Which isn't really all that weird, I guess--except for the fact that I wasn't sure if Jareth was a man or a woman.  I was confused by the hair, makeup, and outfits (which all read female to me).  But then there was the crotch.  The giant, bulging crotch.  Which would seem to communicate "male."  Because I was so incredibly enlightened as a kid, however, I was comfortable with fluid gender/sexuality boundaries--so I was like, "I don't care; whatever it is, it's HAWT!"  (And, yes, I did think with semicolons and xtreme, all caps misspellings as a young child.)

Your eyes can be so cruel.

PS: I found this.

6) Cameron Frye (AKA Alan Ruck in Ferris Bueller's Day Off).  Again, I don't feel like this crush is necessarily weird--I mean, Alan Ruck isn't a bad looking fellow.  I guess I just think it's kind of strange in that he was definitely neither the intended, nor the actual, Seriously Crush-Worthy Dude (SCWD) in the movie.  But, you know, I like to stick it to The Man and whatnot. 

Call me sir, goddammit.

The End (For Now)

[Note: If it so happens that you, dear reader, are among the thousands of men with whom I've had some sort of sexual-ish interaction, please don't interpret this post as any sort of comment on your own (weird) attractiveness.  Instead, consider it a celebration of the fact that you, despite your weird attractiveness, can somehow manage to have a sexual-ish interaction with someone as awesome/conventionally attractive as me.

Also, I just realized that these are mostly childhood crushes, so maybe you can make yourself feel better by assuming that my tastes have improved significantly as an adult.  But probably not.]

atwater village hobo camp jug band jamboree

I love visiting LA.

My friends and I made this the other night (spontaneously) whilst standing around a fire bowl in the driveway, surrounded by various junks (and next to a random shopping cart): hence the hobo camp reference.

La finca

Thanks for recording it, Marc.

summer bummer: more than just a clever rhyme.

The second post in one day??  What is this, Boxing Day?  Errol Barrow Day?  Actually, it's more similar to Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day.  (...Because genocide jokes are always good, right? [high-five].)

Can I tell you how much I've been fantasizing about warm weather lately?  Well, it's a lot.  We had a couple of days recently where the temperature crept up into the 50s--which was was enough to whip me into a frenzy of warm weather obsession.

As I've mentioned in several other posts (which I'm not bothering to link to right now [partially because I'm too lazy and partially because, really, who cares?]), I absolutely love being outside in pleasant weather (and, specifically, being outside on summer evenings).  And, actually, to be even more specific, I love being lazy outside in pleasant weather.

These are the things I want to do right now:

1) Go for a walk.  I'm lucky enough to live in an area with a plethora of parks (and piñatas!  [But, actually, no, not piñatas; just a library--but that's pretty exciting too.]) within walking distance.  In warmer times, I go for a walk nearly every early evening, usually completing a circuit around 3 or 4 of the aforementioned parks.  Oh, long walks: I want to go to there.  (But wait, you say--an hours-long walk doesn't exactly sound like a lazy activity.  But, actually, it is.  I go really slow and sing along with my iPod and frequently lie down in the grass for awhile...I'm good at tailoring physical activity to my special needs.)

2) Lie in the grass.  See above.

3) Wear a tanktop.  Wearing one (under a long sleeve shirt, under a sweatshirt) under my Slanket doesn't count.

4) Eat ice cream/popsicles outside.  I don't think this one needs any explanation.

5) Eat anything outside, for that matter.  Barbecues, patio seating, picnics...They will be mine.  Oh, yes; they will be mine.  Eventually.

4) Go to a baseball game.  As a wise man once said, "The Dukes are comin' out: comin' out swingin'; hustlin' all the way."  Er, I mean...go 'Topes.  (The Duke was an infinitely cooler mascot than Orbit, but I do so enjoy the chile/salsa race around the diamond...)

Gooooooooooooooooooo summer!

let's talk about nerds, baybee; let's talk about you and me.

So.  Let's talk about nerds.  

The origin of the nerd stereotype is something that has fascinated me for a long time.  It's part of  another totally fascinating (to me, at least) topic: the crisis of masculinity that emerged in the U.S. and Britain (and maybe some other places that I don't know about) among the middle- and upper-middle classes in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  This "crisis" stemmed from a wealth of factors, but had a lot to do with modernism and its related changing ideas/practices/social identities.  During this time, the work landscape (at least for the middle class) was shifting to a more bureaucratic/corporate/office jobby-type situation (read: less manual labor and therefore less "masculine"), as well as the entrance of more women into the work world, and specifically into the field of education (read: our children are being feminized by all these lady teachers, being all ladyish and crap).  Which led to the appearance of all these hyper-masculine (and, rather ironically, pretty homoerotic) things--like the Boy Scouts and competitive bodybuilding and Teddy Roosevelt's whole manly-outdoorsy bag...

But that's really not the point of this.  So let's just move on:

All in all, I have nothing against nerds.  Generally speaking, I find them to be much better people than the majority of douchebags out there--you know, the ones who eat at Applebee's Neighborhood Grill and Bar, listen to Puddle of Muddddd, and generally do despicable, "normal" things.  Yes, I realize that there are probably plenty of nerds out there who engage in these deplorable activities (and plenty of non-nerds who don't), but I'm trying to make a sweeping generalization here, people--cut me some slack.

But actually, to get a little less sweepy, I'll be the first person to point out that there are many flavors of nerd out there.  Of course there are the traditional, stereotypical nerds with pocket protectors, bow ties, and the tendency to snort snow off a top hat.  No, wait.  That's a different movie.

...But there are also a million other varieties of nerd out there, and plenty of cool or "normie" people who have their little (or big) nerdy indulgences. 

Take me, for example.  I definitely consider myself to be a nerd--but I'm a cool nerd.  And not just because my Mom said so, thank you very much*.  Yes, I love me some 50¢ words and book learnin' and obscure cartoons and snorting snow off a top hat.  But I'm also capable of normal (and, dare I say it, awesome) social interaction--to the point that most people wouldn't necessarily classify me as a nerd.  Until they get to know me a little better and I start lecturing them about the awesomeness of parasitic wasps.  At a keg party.  And, yes, I've actually done this before. 

[Note: According to my sources, Kids These Days (KTD) (at least at UC Santa Barbara) don't say "kegger" (or even "keg party"--why the fuck did I say that?), but instead "kickback."  As in, "Hey, are you going to that kickback in Brayden's room?  I hear it's going to be 'off da hook,' for shizzle!"]

[Note: The use of the name "Brayden" in the above note was not accidental.  KTD (or perhaps, to be more accurate in this instance, their parents) are disgusting.]

[Note: The use of the clearly outdated slang in the above note was also not accidental.  That's called "comedy."] 

So what was the point of all this?  Uh...Oh, right.  Nerds. 

Actually, my original intention for this post was to talk about the ridiculous level of nerdery going on in my Flash animation class--but, as usual, I got off on a sociological/historical/blabbering tangent. 

Because I'm a cool nerd.  Ahem.

...Okay, so I'm totally not trying to be all cocktease-y with you ("Oh yeaaaah; I'll definitely tell you all about my Flash class! ...Actually, I'm kind of tired now.  I'll call you...sometime."), but I'm going to save my actual tale of woe/amusement for the next installment. 

But I am totally planning on calling you later.  I swear.

PS: For further reading, please see Wikipedia's entry on nerds, which I find endlessly entertaining.  A reference to Freakazoid!?  Excellent. 

*Because she didn't.

is it me you're looking for?

Rather than starting out this post by actually making a hilarious pop culture reference, I'm going to merely list the three pop culture references that have been jockeying for position in my brain.  I'm notorious (in some circles) for deciding not to actually say whatever terribly vulgar/delightfully witty joke I've just thought of and instead going into a rambling explanation of "well, I was going to say something about [insert basic components of terribly vulgar/delightfully witty joke without said components actually being assembled into actual joke format, thus decreasing the hilarity quotient by a significant degree], but then I decided not to."  It goes over really well, typically. 

So.  Anyhoo*. 

I was going to begin this post by inserting some sort of reference to:

1) Lionel Richie.  Specifically, the song "Hello."  Oh, wait.  I just did it in the title.  Forget about this one.

2) Milhouse.  Specifically, "Everything's coming up Milhouse!"  And, yes, there is a website.

3) Mac from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.  Specifically, "What's up bitches!?"  That's pretty much the only thing he contributes to the show.  Everyone knows that Charlie and Dee are the truly important people.  Then again, I haven't watched it in awhile...

...But then I decided not to.  See, wasn't that significantly less funny than it would have been if I had actually just made the reference(s)?  Awesome!

Okay, so let's get down to the nitty-gritty folks: I've been absent a long-ass time.  I never call, I never write, I drank all your mom's "special" wine and then tried to fill the bottle up with grape juice...In short, I've been a bad friend.  But you know what?  Whatever.  I'm back now, and you should just stop all your moaning and bitching and appreciate me for the special flower that I am.  

Plus, I have so many exciting things complain about.  And I know that's the only reason why you're here.   That, and the fact that the only thing on the Olympic coverage right now is the biathlon, and that's some boring ass shit.  (Wow, all these classes at CNM are finally paying off!  I'm some kind of fucking Photoshop genius.)

So.  I'm still going to CNM (for web design and development, for those of you who don't actually pay attention to what I talk about...Mom.  [But, seriously, do you think I'd tell my Mom about this blog?  A) She's afraid to even touch a computer, and B) I talk waaaay too much about my vagina on here.])  This term is awesome, as I got all the stupid bullshit classes out of the way and now I'm only taking stuff that I actually want to learn about--huzzah!

Which reminds me: I have sooooo many things to tell you about a bullshit class I had last term.  I can't even believe it.  But that will have to wait.

Back to the present. 

...Wow, I'm actually having a hard time deciding which ridiculous community college-related anecdote to share first...It's an embarrassment of depressing, infuriating, hilarious riches! 

How about this: I'll save the actual sharing of anecdotes for next time.  Watching that clip of Charlie and Dee (above) sent me into a fit of shrieking/crying laughter and now I'm totally distracted from the cause...

Until next time, gentle reader.

*Can we just talk about "anyhoo for a minute?  Thanks.  So, for some reason I feel compelled to use "anyhoo" when I'm writing, but it is something that I never actually say out loud, because, jesus, it just sounds stupid.  I apologize for its proliferation in my posts (and can only assume its presence has something to do with all the...um...opium?  Is that what the kids are doing these days?).

another list, having a title which is of reasonable length.

9 Things That I Wish I Liked, Because, God, It Would Just Make My Life Easier, But, No, I Just Can't Seem to Make Myself Like Them

1) Shorts.  I'm not against other people wearing them (well, sometimes I am--like when people's thighs rub together and then their shorts get all angled up towards their collective crotch).  They just look fucking disgusting on me...like the denim-wrapped sausages that you have to eat every time you go to the fair.  Mmmmm, denimdawgs.

2) Raw Tomatoes.  Okay, let's get this clear: I like cooked tomatoes; I like sun dried tomatoes; I like ketchup and tomato sauce and tomato soup.  I just find raw tomatoes disgusting in both form and taste.  I cannot tell you how many minutes of my life have been wasted picking little tomato leavin's out of my food, as They are always putting raw tomatoes on goddamned everything, everywhere you go.  Plus, like 99% of the time, they aren't even quality tomatoes.  Why, even if I liked them, would I want washed-out, rotten-water-tasting, unripe tomatoes on anything?  I ask you.

3) Dogs.  We've been here before.  But the thing is--I really want to like dogs.  Because, jesus, they are goddamned everywhere, always sniffing your parts and jumping on you and barking and shit like they're King Dog of Dog Mountain.  Fucking dogs.

4) The Sun.  Sure, the sun does lots of nice things like aid in photosynthesis, help people see things, and creepily smile down on the land with the face of giant baby.  But it also does some not so nice things, like burn me, give me skin cancer (someday--I'll bet you an abnormally-bordered mole!), and burn me again.  I have to wear a ridiculous amount of high SPF sunscreen, and I still manage to turn a nice shade of dogboner-red within, like, 5 minutes.  Bah!

5) Hiking.   Most people get all weird when I say that I hate hiking, probably because they love it or some shit.  Well, guess what?  I hate it.  It makes me hot and sweaty and tired.  As a former fat kid bookworm, physical exertion has never been something I can actually enjoy.  And even worse than that, I just don't get the point of it.  You spend the whole time looking down at your feet so you don't trip over an improperly placed nature fragment, and then you get home and you're like, "Wow, I just went on a hike!  Boring!"  On top of all this, it is always practiced in conjunction with number 4; frequently with number 1; and occasionally with number 3 (see above).  I really wish I liked going on hikes, because then people wouldn't know I'm a lazy, out of shape asshole.  

6) Cilantro.  Like tomatoes, this shit is in goddamned everything.  You can't escape it.  And it's gross.  'Nuff said.

7) Shitty Radio Music.  This one is fairly straightforward, I think.  Wouldn't it be nice to be able to turn on the radio and not feel the overwhelming urge to vomit/go on a diatribe/put on NPR?  Yes.  Yes, it would.  This reminds me of a conversation I had with a crazy coworker, whose car I was forced to be in all damn day as I was being trained:   

Crazy Coworker: [turning up the radio which was playing some shitty, totally unmemorable song] I love this song!  Don't you?

Me: Um, I don't really know it.

CC: Really?? How do you not know this song?  They play it on the radio all the time!

Me: I don't really listen to the radio.

CC: You don't!? Do you just hate music or something?

Me: No, I like music.  I just don't listen to the radio.

CC: Well, how do you find out what's good if you don't listen to the radio!?

(I'm pretty sure after this she thought of me as the weird "vegetarian" who hated music.)

8) Getting Visibly, Overly Excited About Things.  If I got visibly excited about shit then maybe people would stop saying things like "Smile!  It's not so bad!" or "Sarah just doesn't get excited about anything!" or "What are you, a Cylon agent!?"  Please note the exclamation marks; they are not accidental.

9) People.  This is really the most basic one.  Sometimes I think of all the joy that I could be feeling, basking in the warm embrace of humanity (or at least, you know, not dreading basic social interactions).  But then I watch Daisy of Love and I'm like "Oh, yeah."

cookie time.

Sometimes we all just need a little cookie time.

on a list.

So you say you want a random list to read?  Okay.  I can't deny you:

13 Things That I Don't Remember Are Awesome Until I Interact With Them Again

1) The Wedding Singer

2) Elliott Smith

3) Non-chocolate based desserts, especially citrusy ones

4) Skirts (I only forget this during winter; once warm weather hits, I wear them exclusively)

5) Tank tops (see above)

6) Fire pits

7) Fire in general 

8) Eating cereal out of a teacup 

9) Going for walks (another winter-based memory lapse)

10) White Russians (alcoholic beverage, not people--although it's been awhile since I've interacted with a real white Russian)

11) Klezmer music

12) Spice-based confections (e.g., gingerbread, pfeffernusse, etc.)

13) Photo albums (I need to make these someday)

top this.

If I had to guesstimate (which I hate doing), I would say that approximately 1/2 to 2/4 (and maybe even up to 4/8) of the things said by both my sister and me are direct quotations from/references to movies and TV shows.  Sometimes they're ones that any normal person should get ("69, dudes!"); frequently they're a bit more obscure ("So watery...and yet there's a smack of ham to it!"); and, once in awhile, they're our own weird perverting of an already somewhat obscure quote ("I love you Squarsha!  I worship you Squarsha!" or, the always popular, "Napkins...These are the most amazing napkins I have ever seen!").

So imagine how excited I was when this appeared on last week's episode of the always superb 30 Rock:

For those of you who don't remember the original pure awesomeness:

I have no idea if Tina Fey was responsible for inserting a Teen Witch reference in there, but I like to think so--just like I enjoy imagining that she was also the force behind the scene where Jack walks in on Liz singing along to Annie in her best musical theatre voice (I couldn't find a clip, dangnabbit).  You see, I like to imagine that Tina Fey (via her Liz Lemon persona) is my secret soulmate.  Even my Dad agrees.  But don't tell her that.  That's just creepy.