Adorably sweet

If you are allergic to cuteness, I don't think we can be friends.

Or we can, but you'll have to watch videos like this with me when we hang out, so get used to it.

Sports Night

If you love (or even like) sports and/or TV, you owe it to yourself to watch this show. I saw it for a while when it was new on ABC, and then I religiously watched the reruns on Comedy Central at midnight. Now I'm pretty sure I'm going to buy the DVD.

If you're cynical as a means of existence (like the boyfriend can be sometimes), you might find the show a little cheesy at times. You might think the stories are a little trite, or predictable. But I still maintain that as long as predictable stories are well told and well acted, they'll always be worth your while. Always. Transamerica was pretty predictable, but it was still a good movie. (Coincidentally, same female star.)

Do yourself a favor and rent this show. Or add it to your Netflix queue. If you hate it, I'm sorry. If you love it, let's discuss.

YES

My friend Marci showed me this video. I am forever in debt to her wisdom and loving kindness for showing me the greatest thing I've ever seen.

Hottest coolest time in Texas

I've had some kind of life lately. What's that all about? I'm supposed to not do anything productive in my day to day existence and then write about insightful thoughts I have. Oh well.

I went to Schlitterbahn recently and had a grand ole time doing so. My cousin pointed out during our visit that people our age were floating the river rather than coming into the park to ride rides. While I see the allure in that (no kids, no lines, no overpriced admission), I still really like the smell of sunscreen and the anticipation of going to a water park. I still enjoy the thrill of finally getting to sit in your tube after waiting 15-45 minutes and be shot around a water ride for 5 minutes (if that). I still want to ride the tram from park to park and remember the days when I didn't care what I looked like in a bathing suit. (Although according to my cousin the backs of my thighs looked better than some high school kid's in front of us. Ahh, how wonderful women are.)

I guess our next adventure will be floating the river, even though I'm not a good swimmer at all (I'm one of the freaks who never learned to tread water as a child). At the end of the day, tired and thirsty, the idea of just floating with a cooler full of beer within arms reach was tempting. But I'm glad we took the time to make what could be one of our last trips to a childhood favorite without our own children in tow. I recommend it. Recapture your youth people. And do it on the Whitewater Rapids tube ride.

Ugh

So I didn't want to make this blog about my grumblings with work, but I feel I'm forced to in this entry. Mainly because the co-worker I usually vent with won't be back until Monday, as she is frolicking somewhere in the Far East.

A decent sized shipment of packages came in today just as I was taking the mail down. Which meant I left the office, got in an elevator, walked a ways to another office, and reversed the trip. It took about, oh, 3-4 minutes. On my way back, I met the delivery guy, which in my mind put the time between his leaving the office and my returning to the office at about 2 minutes or so.

The evil co-worker obviously signed for the packages, as she was the only one in here. But she neglected to take the extra minute to look at our tracking book and find out just which packages we had received. She waited until I walked in to the office with papers in my hand to ask me to take care of it. She actually said, "Can you take care of those?"

Now look, I know I don't have a lot of work. And I know that she probably has a project or two on her desk. But I also happen to know that she was chatting at that time (the tell-tale break between short bursts of typing gave it away). WHA?! Sure, evil co-worker, I'll do the job that isn't necessarily mine, but can actually be done by anyone in the office. Because god forbid work break up your chat time. I tend to leave my friends hanging on chat when work comes up. But I can understand if yours are too important. I can also understand your need to delegate work when the real boss isn't around, since that's obviously your only time to feel some real power.

I know you can't tell from this post, but I really don't hate my job. I actually like it for what it is. I'm just allergic to the evil co-workers of the world.

I'm old

I've recently discovered that I'm old. It's been creeping up on me lately, but now it's just obvious. Here's why:

a) I think I'm constantly talking about how something on my body hurts, whether it be my head, my shoulders, my legs, etc. This may just make me a hypochondriac or an annoying jerk, but I think it makes me sound old.

b) I have thoughts like, "How do those kids only get a few hours of sleep one night and want to party again the next night? Don't they get tired?"

c) I usually eat immediately when I get home from work (or from aerobicizing). When I come home from work, I usually walk in the door around 5:30. By 6, I'm eating my dinner.

d) On most Fridays, I'm good until 10 PM. Then I collapse in a heap on my bed, wondering how I got by on so little sleep in college.

e) A lot of people under 20 bother me. Not all, but most. They're loud, obnoxious, have no regard for others, and usually have more money than me. Bitches.

Pop Tarts

Remember these? The original Pop Tarts, sans icing.

I personally believe that when the icing came out on the tarts, the civilized world ended. I don't see the need for it. Pop Tarts have plenty of flavor already. And the crust/bread/whatever-that-is-that-holds-in-the-filling is so yummy. Icing just ruins it.

I think the icing was invented for people who constantly want more in their lives and aren't ever satisfied with what they've got.

Or it's for people with a bigger sweet tooth than mine. I prefer the first explanation, as it makes me sound like the greatest person in the world.

Locusts attack!

So I walked to the nearest Subway, which is on campus in a busy cafeteria environment. The university I work at (like many universities across this great land) holds what seems to be a plethora of camps for youngsters; sports camps, cheerleading camps, and camps like Boys State and Girls State, places for young politicians to hone their lying skills. (Actually, that's not what it's for--they teach government procedure and such, but I like the politicians thing better).

As I'm walking into the building, I see lots of girls who are either much shorter (cheerleaders) or much taller (volleyball players) than me; all are skinnier and much louder. I make my way to the Subway, and lo and behold, all of the kids have decided to eat fresh. I guess I should be happy that young children are choosing sandwiches over pizza or hamburgers, but do they have to do that during MY lunch break? The line at Subway goes past the restaurant next door, and I feel sorry for the guy standing at the register watching us all wait to be served by his competition. I didn't get my food until 20 minutes later.

I write this blog for two reasons. One, to profess my love for that Subway, the only place where I'll stand in a god awful line with obnoxious stick insect girls for 20 minutes. Two, to tell all the obnoxious stick insect girls that may be reading this to go somewhere else and leave the good stuff to the grown-ups. You may be taller than me, but I weigh more than you. I think I have the odds.

Damn!

One more. Seriously, go here so I don't get in trouble for stealing cuteness.

Oh for the love of...

Go here to see more.

Netflix

A while back a friend of mine recommended Netflix. I thought about it but decided that I liked going into a video store and seeing what movie might catch my eye. But recently I've had to face the fact that I just don't go to video stores anymore. I still might join a local one, just for the hell of it, but I basically refuse to go to Blockbuster or the like because they just never have what I want. Plus the people there are very pushy about trying Blockbuster Online.

The other night, the same friend mentioned that a movie (Breakfast on Pluto) was on her list, one that I'd been dying to see but just never got around to renting. (Luckily the boyfriend had it and brought it up this weekend). And in that moment, I realized how much I wanted to join Netflix. I wanted to give in and make my list of movies that I can brag about/share with my friends. I wanted to be able to say "Yeah, I've seen that" or "No, but it's on my Netflix list." I guess I became a bit of a sheep in that moment, but I believe it's worth it.

So, this morning I headed over to the promised land. And I picked my membership plan (1 movie at a time, unlimited movies each month, $9.99). And I made my queue (first, Word Wars, then Transamerica, then Sports Night, then....).

I should receive my first movie within one business day. I am sooo going to take advantage of this newfound curiousity. I hope it delivers everything it's promising.

Geez

Are you into strange and jaw-dropping occurances in nature? Then this link is for you! Two Headed Kitten

Yes, that's right. The kitten has two faces. I watched the entire video with my mouth hanging open from sadness-disgust-amazement.

What makes it even sadder is that the kid in the video knows this cute little freak isn't going to make it.

What the hell do they feed the cats in Ohio?

The Onion

Most everyone I know reads The Onion, the satirical publication with articles that I often forward to friends. This guy has seemingly no idea of what The Onion is. (I promise it's worth your time.)

I think the best pointing out of his lunacy comes from Sufficient Scruples, who gave the aforementioned idiot the Official Stegosaurus of the Week Award...meaning he has more brains in his ass than his head.

Enjoy.

Mother

My mom is coming to visit tomorrow. It's sad that part of my excitement of her arrival is linked to the fact that I will get a free lunch...and quite possibly some pity money. Pity for the fact that I can't seem to figure out how to hold on to money when the weather is hot.

Something else that's sad: after having several beers over the weekend, I noticed that on Monday morning I could almost smell Shiner. I promise to join a support group before I actually order a 9 AM beer.

I love these guys:

Title

I am sad because Italy won. A big bunch of babies with nice hair.

I am happy because Oscar is coming over this morning to (hopefully) rid us of cockroaches. Please, everyone cross your fingers with me. Knock on some wood if you've got it handy. For god's sakes, pick up that head's up penny you see and think of us. Anything else for good luck? Which shoulder do you throw spilt salt over again?

I am tired because I had a lot of beer this weekend...which progressed to a lot of sleeping this weekend. Which meant that when it came time to go to bed last night, I was not having it. I stayed up too late. I woke up with thoughts of taking a sick day.....just to sleep. I have got to figure out a different way to make money. This 8-5 thing is for other, better people.

I am impatient for Thursday night. The long distance boyfriend will be in town, and we will be at the Drafthouse at 9:45, ready to sing along to Queen songs.

Roach

I got this email from my roommate/cousin this morning:

"found a roach belly-up on my floor this morning...was sweeping it up when i realized it wasn't dead. those bastards are sick....sick..sick. [...] bastards."

At my apartment in Huntsville, I had ants. They would mainly crawl across the living room floor, from the front door to the patio door. The carpet color was such that it was sometimes hard to see them, but I grew to love lying on my stomach, picking ants out of the carpet and killing them mercilessly. There was a sense of accomplishment about it, you could say.

At our old apartment in north Austin, we had ants as well. These were a little more ambitious. They mainly infested areas that had any kind of water (sinks, bathtubs, toilets). But when they got bored with that they'd simply hunt me down in my room and attack; most of the time while I was sleeping.

Now, as we are settling into our new house, we've discovered the joy of roaches. Ahh yes, the beautiful brown color, the huge antennae that move independently of each other, the lightning fast speed with which they dodge a shoe. Glorious, they are. I think they've figured our assassination methods out, as you can see from the email above. We've tried those little traps with the poison, but they're too big for those. We're going to have to call in reinforcements.

Final. Sunday. Be there.

Pick your team!

Vs.

Some days...

I gotta tell ya, some days are just slow. Just......plain......slow.

My co-worker and I were discussing the fact that our right hands and forearms go numb during the day. Mainly because we spend so much time on the internet, either reading articles or playing games. There just isn't anything to do in an academic setting during the summer. It's driving me slowly mad.

Tonight I'm going to a 'send off party' that SHSU is throwing for incoming students. The Austin area party is going to be at Dave & Busters. I'm a little hesitant about going. It's going to be odd to be one of the old people there rather than one of the students. How do I deal with being an alumnus and telling them that I still have no idea what I want to do with myself? I'm betting most of those freshmen are entering college thinking that they know what their path will be. They're in for a nasty wake-up call in a few years. The best thing about the real world is that there's no homework. And the friends are better (I'm generalizing, as I have a few good friends from college).

Ugh, rambling like an old college graduate. I hope there's some kind of beer special there tonight.

Penalty Kicks

I agree with this guy, defective yeti, about the penalty kicks. Then again, my Germans won with those, so maybe I'm just truly angry that England didn't.

And Brazil is out?!

Here's a list of what I did this weekend:

a) Drove.
b) Nacho Libre.
c) Forever Plaid.
d) Drank.
e) Drove.
f) Drove some more, listening to Iron and Wine and Gnarls Barkley.

By the by, if you have a dancing bone in your body, you should do yourself a favor and buy the Gnarles Barkley cd (St. Elsewhere). I was a little disappointed that my boyfriend wasn't in the seat next to me shaking his body in the way that only he can. Once you've purchased said cd, skip on over to a little song called "Transformer." You will thank me.

Futbol

I'm going to have to tape the game. Unless someone knows of a futbol hotspot in the town of Huntsville, TX. Yeah, me neither.