crap sandwich

Yesterday, I started my new job at the old job. I was so nervous I forgot to brush my teeth, I only used ACT mouthwashy stuff. I had to break into a coworker's emergency toothpaste stash. This morning, I forgot deodorant. I predict I will forget my bra tomorrow.

In a related story, do you ever suddenly move away from where you lived for six years and kind of inadvertently cut off communication with all of your friends because the last six months you were there you were essentially 180 degrees from your real self, then drink some wine one night and look at their Facebook pages (like a douche) and realize they're all just fine without you and you want to cry a little, but can't because that would be stupid?

In another related story, have you ever had a boyfriend who's in law school and they get real frustrated and throw books around and stuff? And you feel really crappy because there's nothing you can do about it except say, well, that's why I didn't go to law school.

Things White People Love #34, St. Patrick's Day

There's nothing immigrant hating WT's in Oklahoma like more than celebrating St. Paddy's Day. It's the perfect time of year to bust out your "Kiss Me I'm Irish" t-shirt, green and white striped super gay Dr. Seuss hat, guzzle some overpriced green beer and try to get laid by female counterparts wearing very tiny green t-shirts and tinier pants with even tinier brains. If you're a little higher up on the socio-economic ladder, you carefully scour Abercrombie or American Eagle for that perfectly fitting, peck revealing polo, primed for a festive popped collar. If you're even higher up on the ladder, you've most certainly spent the week before perusing Urban Outfitters and other vintage t-shirt sites for the perfect, gently worn, super ironic, tight fitting tee for the occasion. If you're me, you hate all of you.

Hope you had a car bomb.

T.C.O.B.

So, where have I been, you no one might ask?

1. Stuck in traffic on 2-35 North.
2. Mourning the end of The Wire. I've Netflixed Friday Night Lights, Freaks and Geeks, Lost, and now The Wire. What's next?
3. Getting a promotion at work, which means I feel increasingly guilty about using company bandwidth to support this habit. Also, I actually kind of have to do stuff now.
4. Contemplating a haircut.
5. Spending some QT with Mr. Shain and Rockband. Spending some QT with Shain and my dad at a forensics tournament. Yeah, it's weird.
6. Hating on the mega-churches that have sprung up all over the metro.
7. Buying reusable grocery bags from eBay because there's no place I can think of that would sell them here.
8. Watching Ade get presumably whacked on the A&E Sopranos marathon. I'm glad it was Sil.
9. Getting lost in the aisles of Sam's. Did you know you can buy three pounds of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for only $6? Shiiiiiiiiiit.
10. Drinking too much Lion's Head. Not going to the gym.

OHMYGOD WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE: Part II.

Oh, to be an Oklahoman. This morning, as I was listening to NPR, the local news had a story about State Rep Sally Kern spewing hate. I was going to post it, but The Lost Ogle beat me to it. Jesus Christ on a stick. There is a war, a recession and American Idol. Who has time for this shit?

Sally Kern is a jerk via The Lost Ogle.

OHMYGOD WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!

This morning, as I was taking the detour off Sheilds that led me to a detour off whatever street that was which made me want to kill someone, I was listening to a little NPR. I hear the familiar and strangely hypnotic voice of the StarDate lady. Usually, I block her out or become entranced, I'm not sure which, but this time, something caught my attention. Namely the fact that, potentially, we're all going to die because this star's going to explode our ozone layer and stuff. Bad news bears, but wait, it gets better. This other star might explode, but instead of the ozone crap, it would cause a gamma ray burst, which would exterminate life on earth in a mess of fires and storms and deadly particles oh my! This is what StarDate lady says exactly:

"Luckily for us, gamma-ray bursts seem to beam into space from the poles of the exploding star. The poles of Eta Carinae don’t aim our way, so we’re probably safe from this doomed star."

Probably safe? Holy ozone depleting deadly particle riddled balls! This woke me up right in time to realize just how ugly downtown OKC is. Really. Don't visit.

BREAKING NEWS: I had a dream that no one is interested in.

Since I've driven this blog into irreparable disrepair, I can now post even crappier content without fear of alienating readers. Because there are really no readers. So...

Last night, I had this dream. I finished a puzzle of the alphabet, each letter on one piece, making a long train when completed. Suddenly, someone handed me a hamster. I understand that these are the hamsters sent to every US tax payer by the Jordanian government in thanks for something I can't recall. The weird thing about these hamsters is that when you place them on the puzzle, they deposit little turds on various letters, spelling out important messages. I can't remember what the message said, but of course it probably holds the key to life.

An open letter to February.

Dear February,

You sucked harder than what it must be like to endure a Jessica Alba movie if you are blind. You brought the stomach flu, the other kind of flu, a UTI, a lingering cough and an unshakable malaise that has resulted in me watching an inordinate amount of TV swaddled in my comforter craving Girl Scout cookies. To top it all off, you had the audacity to be 29 days long this year.

Blow me,

B

P.S. March is going to rock my figurative balls off. You can count on that. So far, it's already better because there was an awesome thunderstorm last night. Also, I found this song which makes me happy. It's the little things.

I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You - Black Kids