It's on.

We got it.

Holy neon green snotballs!

So, my Tuesday post makes no sense because I was delirious with fever, but so focused on wrapping up work for the week that I thought I was just a little tired. However, my fire throat, nasty cough, bloodshot eyes and all over body ache did not prevent me from attending my first Thunder game against Phoenix that night (Shaq is HUGE!). I think Port Authority is a little bit classier than the Ford Center, but it was a good try. We had a good time, from what I remember. Wednesday was spent in various levels of consciousness dictated by shots of NyQuil, CVS brand Tussin, Mucinex and wine. Also, somehow, although completely unethical, I was drug to my parent's house to whip up the stuffing and spinach gratin for t-day dinner. On the big day, I woke from my 'Quil coma to rush over to the parent's house to do the turkey, then back to my house to bake the bread, spinach, and stuffing, which I then schlepped back over to the parent's where I made the mashed potatoes, threw some crudites on the coffee table and hoped for the best. All in all, everything was ok, except the extremely overdone turkey, which was by design since my family thinks they will all die from salmonella. Basically, I just wanted to list out a few things for which I'm thankful right now.

I'm thankful...

that I don't work at the Valley Stream, NY Wal-Mart
for the G4 Arrested Development marathon (and impending movie??)
for 24 hour pharmacies
that Britney really seems to be getting her shit together
for the Travel Channel's No Reservations marathon
that I wasn't invited to Heidi and Spencer's nuptials
for my job
for Archer Farms egg nog yogurt
my boobs
that Barack Obama won
for Amazon's 50 albums for $5!
for Ina Garten
for the shuffle setting on my iPod
I would say for readers, but there aren't any
that I didn't have to suffer through another Steak and Ale Thankshitting
for fevers, Mother Nature's acid
that I missed Rosie's variety show thing
PUPPIES!!
that I'm not knocked up
for Spanx
that there are "black Friday" sales at liquor stores
for leftovers
that my snot has turned from neon green to clear, I think that's a good sign

and lots of other stuff probably.

Goulet Wednesday News Round Up: Oh No They Didn't Edition

Oh for fuck's sake. Really? The Hills is my only guilty pleasure amidst a sea of critically acclaimed TV (the oft aforementioned Mad Men and The Wire to name a couple). I thought for sure Spencer would put douchesquared out of its misery by requiring Heidi get even bigger titplants resulting in a fatal defiance of physics, but alas, they have tied the knot. We did not need this with all of the economy and war bullshit, kids.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Equation Edition.

+

=

?

Oh snap!

It's on.

Hate this! Thursdays

Dear NPR,

I just wanted to congratulate you on a story aired All Things Considered last night. Jon Kalish's "piece" about the 1968 Harvard vs. Yale game succeeded in sucking more than the bottleneck at I-40 and I-235 at rush hour. Seriously, what could be more riveting than a bunch of Ivy League dudes recalling the glory days of a football game that no one cared about even then (but Tommy Lee Jones was on the team! I know, I know.)? In this day and age of economic deterioration, there's nothing more heartwarming than an old fashioned tale of priviliged leatherheads fighting it out on the Harvard gridiron. So relatable! Maybe I'll play this story for my children, who will most certainly attend the prestigious University of Phoenix. Perhaps they'll play Capella in a tense Second Life game of pigskin in a similar spirited tradition.

I went to a Harvard game or two. There's only one crimson team that's worth freezing your ass off (literally). And it's not Harvard. Don't know if I was clear about that.

Love in Christ,

B

Quantum of Stupid

Last night, I went to see the latest Bond flick with my dad and brother. Because I am a poor jerk, and they happened to be on my side of town, I made them pick me up. I would not have done this had I realized by brother is a huge pussy by refusing to take the highway to the fancy schmancy theater in Moore (a side note - Moore people scare me - what's with the teeny boppers and their trucker hat/giant diamond earring/printed hoodies/guido hair thing?) making us 10 minutes late.

We bought our tickets and headed into the darkened theater and settled in. A fast paced, action filled opening scene appeared to have already started. I was surprised, approving on the theater's wise, but unusual decision to eschew 30 minutes of previews and get right to the heart of the matter. The small cinemas in Northampton that I used to frequent would show maybe one trailer, so it didn't seem too out of the ordinary to catch the opening of the film 15 minutes past the movie start time.

As I continued to watch, I experienced an intellectual unraveling worse than some of the roughest finals I endured in college. Why couldn't I remember the ending of the last movie? How, specifically, had Vespa betrayed Bond? What's the deal with returning character Mathis? Why does Daniel Craig's mouth bother me so much, especially when he's drinking something, with all those little sucking noises? Why is none of this fitting together? Am I really so stupid as to not be able to follow a fucking Bond movie? It's not like Syriana or some shit. Come to think of it, did I really understand Syriana? Well, maybe it was confusing, but I totally got Babel. Totally. Right? Was that the one with the deaf naked chick where Cate Blanchett peed on herself then Brad Pitt banged her? How come all I can recall of an Oscar nominated film is the nudity, pee and banging? Conclusion: I should quit life because I am an idiot.

Then I knew what had happened. I silently rose from my seat and returned to the lobby to confront the d-bag (Moore) kid who'd directed my trio to the auditorium. I asked him which auditorium was showing the 8:10 Bond. He told me number 13. Well fuck me. We were in number two. Better yet, it was now 45 minutes into the meat of the movie. Jesus H. Christ on a stick. I asked when the next show started. 8:50.

I went back and retrieved Dad and the bro (those people already watching must've enjoyed feeling superior for a few minutes there) and made our way to the correct auditorium. Between us, we have two BA's, one Master's, one PhD and some National Merit business, not to mention and Eagle Scout and the unparalleled honor of Oklahoma's Greatest 75 Websites. I am afraid for our future. Also, Casino Royale was better.

Check it, yo:

M-W's word of the day: blithesome. Heedless. Yup, that's pretty much it. There are varying stories regarding the genesis of my name, one involves a random pick from the baby name book, another an unusual preoccupation with Blythe Danner. In either case, it's a bitch to place an order at Panera.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Migraine Edition

I have a migraine (in my head, I pretend to be all Britishy and say "meegraine" - try it!). This is bad news because migraines suck. A lot. I'm trying to tough it out, but it's hard to explain why your office light is off, yet you're sitting at your desk, not to mention the whispering only policy. Also, I might or might not puke on you. Blech city.

Here's some random music crap.

West of Her Spine - Bell X1

Taxi on Vermont - Old Canes

Cathedrals - Jump Little Children

The Kid is Gone - The Gravy

Something About Us - Daft Punk

Yam, King of the Crops - The Mountain Goats

The Future Hangs - Cuff The Duke

Baby James - Casey Dienel

I'm going to go crawl under my desk now.

Hate this! Thursday

I would rather be forced to attend a Nickleback concert, while wearing Crocs and drinking a Diet Pepsi than endure car trouble. After two attempts at jumping, one resulting in a small fire, the dolphin gray, old lady mobile sits in a garage awaiting a new alternator. Not cheap! When you are on a budget of $0, this sucks. Let me tell you.

UPDATE: Veterans Day

So... I'm 99.9999999999999% sure that the exbf no longer recalls my name, let alone reads this blog, but I have yet to receive a response from the actual card I sent yesterday, which was in much better taste than the aforementioned. Hmm. Well, you can't burn bridges that have already been fire bombed, right? This is what I went with. Too much?





Also, to all of those trolling this blog for nude pics of a hot chick playing Twister as suggested by the boys of TLO, sorry! I had to take them down for professional reasons. But believe me, they were h.o.t. Instead, this is me eating some cheese toast.*



*Not really me.

It's Veterans Day!

And you know what that means. Actually, you don't. Because today is the 2X anniversary of the exbf's expulsion from his momsters uterus. He's managed to wish me a happy birthday via text or email over the last two years, so I've determined it's time to take it up a notch, now that my heart has gone from robot to slightly less robot status. Here's what I'm thinking:

Fine. I will just send an email.

Weekend to end all weekends.

Holy crap. I had an effing INSANE weekend. Seriously. Out. Of. Control. Big time. Let's count it down:

• 1 trip to Super Target to buy crock pot*

• 1 lunch at Chili's

• $20 to see Role Models. Totally worth it. Paul Rudd crush surges.

• 11pm Saturday night bedtime

• 2 hours reading Real Simple, Gourmet, Bon Apetit, Living, and Cooks Illustrated for T-day recipes

• 3 loads of laundry

• 4 miles of dog walks

• 3 hour trip to Harold's outlet to look for bargain work shirts and ties for the BF

• 1 kitchen session to make chili for a work pot luck and a baked pasta dish to be warmed up tomorrow night after the BF and I get home from the gym

• 483 Diet Cokes

Jealous much? I thought so.

*The BF accurately pointed out that the crock pot purchase (necessary for the making of and transportation for the work chili) would render a blog search for slow cooker recipes for my demographic (e.g. Whole Foods loving food snobs) named something clever like crockofchic.blogspot.com. Let me know if you find anything.

Amy Winehouse Wednesday

Hey guys, I feel like I need to level with you. You all have One of you has probably noticed my sporadic, at best, attempts at blogging lately. The truth is, I've been grappling with some pretty tough "issues" that consume most of my time. It probably started in earnest about last January and has dominated my waking life since, crescendoing into what I'm about to tell you. In confidence, of course. They say you have to hit rock bottom before you realize you want help, and I finally hit that bottom harder than the Dow yesterday. It wasn't pretty, but I'm ready to take my first steps down the road to recovery. That's right. I'm going to rehab.

It started off innocently enough. I'd spend a little bit of time here. Then a minute or two here, you know, just to try it out. Before long, as the spring progressed, I'd take a little of this, just to keep up with everything. Summer came and went in a blur of this, these and that. Things get kind of hazy come September - I couldn't tell if I was coming or going, just that I wanted more. By October, I would do anything to get it anywhere. Even here.

It's going to be tough, but I think with professional help I can get through this. At least I can expect to be relapse free until 2010.

BREAKING ELECTION NEWS!

Psych! I know there's an election and all or whatever, but I think the following newsflash wins out. I don't want to sound like a douche or anything, but...

I'm kind of a big deal.

Check it: 75 Great Oklahoma Websites via Oklahoma Magazine. *Turn to page 76. I think/have it memorized.

I know, right! The TLO boys were also mentioned among many others actually deserving of making the list. I don't know if you've noticed, but... I kind of don't blog so much these days. When I let the BF know that he had the opportunity/obligation to buy a local celebrity a drink Friday night, he immediately asked whom I was sleeping with to secure such an honor. I'm 96% sure my parents paid for my mention as penance for this haircut.

**UPDATE** The dorkiest of all dorks, M5K has even noted this momentous, albeit undeserving and decidedly mysterious development. Recognize.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Election Eve Edition

During the 2000 election (my first), I was attending school for an ill-fated semester at Rhodes College in Memphis with a dorm full of WASPs of the first degree - fish out of water city. Gore won Shelby county, but he lost his home state. I was crushed, but I still had no idea what were were getting into. Round two, I was up in the MA, Kerry's home turf, ensconced in a liberal enclave, confident that Amurkuh had learned from its mistake and would rectify the situation. I had a little election watch party. By 3am, everyone was gone. I sat on my big blue couch, numb. I've already done my voting, and this time, in a state that will go my way (obvs, not OK), but I'm still not holding out any hope. As wonderful as this country is, it still has a long way to go.

Not election related songs, just things I've been listening to on repeat:

Trying My Best To Love You - Jenny Lewis (from Acid Tongue)

She Came In Through The Bathroom Window - The Beatles

True Affection - The Blow

Where Do You Go To (My Lovely) - Peter Sarstedt

Papers In Order - The Old Ceremony

All Night - Sam Phillips

Sweet Lorraine - Patty Griffin

Sun Will Shine Again - Slackstring

Bag Lady - Erykah Badu