Okay, listen up, scented tampons, you suck. Why you even exist in the first place is a mystery to me, but let’s save that for another rant. Last month I accidentally purchased you. After spending an entire day wondering why it smelled like there was a zombie in my crotch I finally took note of the packaging and realized my blunder. Being economically disadvantaged, I could not afford to toss you in the bin like so much garbage and make another purchase to correct the grave wrong that had been dealt me. So I suffered. Oh, how I suffered. This time ’round on the red wave, noticing my supplies low, I delightedly – nay, ECSTATICALLY made the trek to my local grocery store to replenish my stock of the favored sin fragancia ilk of tampon that I have come to rely upon. Perusing the “feminine products” aisle I discovered with shock and horror that almost every form of feminine hygiene product designed for my particular “flow” needs was SCENTED! Conspiracy!!!! Or some a-hole Smith’s employee who doesn’t realize there is a difference screwed up the order. Or… CONSPIRACY! Being tired and cranky et cetera, et cetera, and so on and so forth, I gave up and purchased a tampon lower on the threshold totem pole, but I warn you, scented tampons, you shall not best me again. This I vow. No matter what trickery or scare tactics you attempt to thrust upon me, I will not be had. I will drive all over the valley, no matter how fatigued, to every convenience store and grocer to circumvent you if I must. I shall be ready. Oh yes, I shall be ready.
P.S. I realize that all of my last few posts have been kind of cranky, so I promise my next post will definitely be on the cheery side. I swear. You know me, I wouldn’t lie to you, baby.
I’ve been feeling a little apathetic and underwhelmed this week. Maybe I need more sleep or maybe I’m just lazy? Whatev.
I’m also really annoyed with MS Paint right now. It took FOR-EV-ER to do this picture and whenever I saved it made my image all blurry. This is the best I could get it. argh. Any MS Paint experts out there want to share your secrets and know-how? Stupid fracken schmacken grr argh.
I don’t know what it is this week, but people be takin’ jerk pills, man. It’s all I can do to maintain my usual cheery cynical attitude. The whole city is plagued by folks dishing out stink-eye’s, jerk-face’s, and crabby unnecessary remarks. At least when I’m cranky I just go hide out under my troll bridge until the dark cloud passes. Maybe it’s something to do with the end of summer. It’s hot, but everybody’s busy running around gearing up for all the things fall brings. I don’t know. Whatever, dudes, you’re neggin’ me out!
Okay, so I’m probably going to have to break up with myself because I did not make a mixtape this weekend. I did however come to the realization that I need to expand my Steve Guttenberg movie collection. I here and now vow to acquire these two classics: Don’t Tell Her it’s Me AKA Boyfriend School and Can’t Stop the Music. Why? The proof is in the pudding, people:
How can you deny the power of a roller-skating, disco-dancing Steve Guttenberg wonder-twins-powered with The Village People or Steve bouncing between putty-face and flowing mullet wig, riding a motorcycle and trying to woo Jamie Gertz in giant floral print dress after giant floral print dress? Not to mention the fact that it’s like Kyle MacLachlan’s best performance aside from Show Girls. And did I mention Shelly Long? Ahhhh, HOW DO I NOT OWN THESE ALREADY????!!!!!!
You guys, I can’t move. Like at all. I can’t even force myself. It’s like I’ve been stung and immobilized by the alien of cranky laziness and it’s stuck me on the wall in its sticky cranky cocoon and I’m loving every minute of it. There are lots of things I need to do (like grocery shopping, cleaning my house, doing the laundry) and things I want to do (like making a mixtape, drawing a comic, working on my MS Paint/Paintbrush doodles), but all I can do is lay here on the couch, without a bra on, watching Doctor Who episodes, and talking to my cats. Jobs and responsibilities are stupid and annoying and get in the way of my radical chillaxed lifestyle, man. These things are CRAMPING MY STYLE. I say, hell yes, make Bishop go! And while he’s at it, have him bring me back some Lunaberry with chocolate chips and strawberries, man, because I am BUSY WATCHING MY STORIES! Okay, so maybe I’m ridin’ the red dragon right now and that might have something to do with it, but I really don’t need you judging me.
These shoes are about to me mine allllll mine. And once they arrive in the mail I will promise to love them and honor them and cherish them for the rest of my days.
p.s. I feel a mixtape coming on. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Okay, maybe there isn’t really magic involved, but a guy wearing a “Dumbledore’s Army” t-shirt did walk by as Tawnya, Tracy and I were discussing the qualities of the various “houses” in Hogwarts (Shut up). So maybe that counts. Anyway, here’s a list of my summer obsessions (with lots of links. I’m going link ca-ray-zeee!):
1. Cherries. I love ‘em. They’re the new sliced orange. I’m gonna quote the old man in the diner from “Drag me to Hell” and say, “Whaaat a deeelighhhht.” I can’t live a day without cherries. I’m just sayin’.
2. Lunaberry, I love you and I think we should get married. And guess what? A small is only 100 calories! Not that I’m a calorie counter, but learning this detail helped me feel less guilty about how often I frequent this place and bear the shame of being recognized as a “regular” by more than one or two employees. Maybe I just care about supporting local businesses, OKAY? I DON’T HAVE AN ADDICTION, I DON’T NEED AN INTERVENTION, ALRIGHT?! So just back off! I can quit anytime I want to!
3. Pushing Daisies. I never watched this show when it was actually on the air (I know, too little too late), but now I’m hooked. This show is cute. Cuter than cute even. Cute as in you-almost-want-to-puke-your-guts-out-with-adorable-cute-vomit cute. In other words, I have a crush on this show. And now I’m nearing the end. Someone might need to take me to Lunaberry after I’ve watched the final episode to cheer me up and deal with the loss.
4. Reading. I’m getting a lot of reading done this summer, which is awesome. I’ve been kind of a lazy reader as of late, but I’ve been picking up the pace and it’s been very nice and enjoyable. And to boot, I am now the member of, not one, but two book groups. How’s that for awesome nerd city?
5. Speaking of backyards and houses and hammocks that I don’t have. Give it! As in I am sick of apartment dwelling and would really like to rent a house or even a non-gross, non-annoying-neighbors duplex. The down side is that I am poor and renting a house in a neighborhood that works for me ain’t so easy. Boo. I can’t help that I’m sick of hearing the sounds of my stompy neighbors and want to have the freedom to enjoy my old lady desires of gardening and such. sigh. It may be a while before this wish is granted. Poop on a scoop. But I can dream can’t I? CAN’T I?! Well, until then I’ll keep trolling the classifieds…
6. ABBA. I know we’ve talked about ABBA before and since we’re such good friends, I don’t think I need to go into how wonderfully fabulous and awesome and radical and magical and spectacular and glittery and wonderful and fabulous and – well, how great they are (Let this jog your memory). I think ABBA might be the soundtrack of my summer. My parents just decided to give me all of their cassette tapes now that they’ve surpassed me technology-wise (Yes, my dad owns an iPod and I own a Sony Walkman cassette player. Shut up.). Most of their tapes are recordings of LPs they had back in the day, I think so they could rock out in the car. Among them were some recordings of John Denver, Wings, Herb Alpert, a gazillion of those golden oldies collections me and my siblings ordered from catalogs as Christmas presents for my dad over the years, and lots and lots of ABBA. I used to borrow these cassette tapes and listen to them in my bedroom on one of those flatbed tape recorders and soak up the amazingness of these Swedes and now these very cassette tapes are mine, ALL MINE! So basically it’s been a rockin’ trip down the nostalgia slide. ABBA SUMMER FOREVER!!!
p.s. Have you noticed how pretty my blog is? You can thank the fabulous Miss Tracy and her magical ways for gussying it up for me AGAIN. One of these days I’ll learn the mysteries of the internets, but until then I’ll keep leaching off the awesomeness of her talents. Yay, Tracy! Yay, pretty blog! Yay!!
Greg and I watched the two hour pilot episode of Hunter last night. Why do I love shows like this so much? The formula is just so comfortably predictable in a way that delights me. If I were time traveling and there were bad guys and I was injured I’d tell my companions they could leave me in the 80′s so they could save themselves and I’d be happy.
Now, don’t get all nervous. I haven’t given up my allegiance to Magnum P.I. It still holds its place in my heart as the best TV show ever created. And if you don’t feel the same way, then you haven’t seen enough.
