i don't like doing anything i don't like to do

because that sucks. doesn't it? however, sometimes, external forces dictate that i must. i keep not making any more money, so i'm always a little strapped for cizzash, mainly because what little i do make i spend here. and here. and here. and here. funny story - i still look like crap in spite of dropping serious scrill on the fancy(ier than old navy and ross) brands. anywho, this month, june 2010, i am imposing a moratorium on apparel purchases. i have several pair of shoes that have gone unworn for years. dresses with price tags still attached. skirts i wore once then never ironed to wear again (because i am both lazy and afraid of hot things). well, june is the month when i reclaim my own wardrobe. i was going to do a thing where i wear a different pair of shoes each day, but i chickened out because i'm still super wobbly on heels. but maybe. we shall see. won't we won't see are bags from forever 21 stuffed with crap clothes (that i love, but still, they're crap) and scary credit card bills and bank statements. i can do it!

ghosts of closets past - i clearly have a problem. yes, it's weird because, yes, i still always look a little homeless even in my best outfit. it's a gift. marry me!

exhibit a:




i swear there was an exhibit b, but i can't find it. trust me. it was worse.

Link Love

I'd like to just take a moment to share all of the sites I visit on a regular basis in hopes that someone will talk about them with me. Please? Anyone? ANYONE?

My Year Of Everything - Dave Holmes does all those other books and blogs doing shit for a year. Crockpotting, wearing one outfit, living biblically, cooking Julia Child recipes, you get the picture.

Anthroholic - someone shows how to not make Anthropologie pretties look like your gram's castoffs.

Selleck Waterfall Sandwich - exactly what it sounds like.

Mrs. Lilien - sumptuous, well sourced arrangements of things I can't afford (but shouldn't buy if I could. I mean really, a $1000 mint julep?)

What Would Emma Pillsbury Wear? - I can't get that into Glee, but I can get into cardigans.

Heat Eat Review - Update this piece, bitches! But, in the meantime, very useful if you work in an office with a microwave.

Fed Up with Lunch: The School Lunch Project - ew ew ew. This is why I packed my lunch everyday during school (Mom wouldn't do it). Also, the kids don't stand a chance.

what i wore today... in drawings - aw, cute.

denise hearts jasper - click on soundtrack. Start downloading.

How is it

that I look totally awesome when I check myself out at home before I leave for work, but by the time I get to work I'm a rumpled, homely mess? It's like that episode of Seinfeld when he has the simultaneously hot and ugly girlfriend depending on the lighting, etc. Good thing I work in a basement so no one can see me. Hooray for mole people!

Dear Gary England,

You owe me $140.

Yesterday, you got on the tube and starting creaming your pleated front Dockers about "weather events" running amock around the state. And I listened. Like a 'tard. Your incessant screeching about baseball sized hail ripping through Noble heading toward Norman compelled me to seek shelter for my new (to me) car.

Now, I don't have a garage, per se, but a detachable old-timey garage-shed-type-thing at the end of the long gravel driveway. Classy, yes? So, the BF and I make a run for it into blinding rain to open the doors to this thing and jockey the cars around so I can pull in. Which I do. It's when I get out that I hear a hissing sound. The sound of a punctured tire. AWESOME! Soaking wet, the BF and I head back inside to wait out the impending weather armageddon before surveying the damage. We wait. And wait. And wait. Guess what? No hail. No straight line winds. No tornado (in spite of the screaming sirens all night). NO FUCKING ANYTHING! After the rain ended, skies cleared and the sun shined. And my heart closed forever to the Oklahoman in me that reveres all things Gary England. He is dead to me.

Much like my tire. The BF put on his man pants and put on the spare. I got the new tire put on this morning. Yes, $140 is cheaper than hail damage, surely. But still, Gary, you can make the check out to I am an idiot.

RIP (in my heart) Lord Gary

p.s. This is why I was motivated to move my car and attempted to believe these weather jokers.

Yay for Smith!

Although I love to hate on Smith sometimes, I still love it. Like you love something like this. This year, Rachel Maddow was the commencement speaker, much better than my year's whoever it was... Anywho. Listen to her address. It's pretty rad.

Watch her speech here.

Check out these super awesome graduate's shoes here.*

*Smith has a thing where you have to wear white and black shoes, which makes me want to die, but these are some pretty awesome shoes to offset the unnatural, virginal white they encourage.

Things I Hate # 4,739:

couples with joint Facebook or email accounts. Seriously? Do these people understand the purpose of social networking and untraceable email accounts? Duh.

Want to know how awesome I am?

I wish I could stay up late enough to watch the new Adult Swim show featuring Dr. Steve Brule of Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job. But I can't. Because I'm old. Did you know that I'll be 29 in something like less than 80 days? I know, right. I have a lot to show for my 29 years, though, so that's cool. Mainly that I've watched every episode of seasons one through five of TAEASGJ. Marry me.

Question:

is it wrong that I prune the lady garden more for my gyno than my bf?

OMG! There was totally a tornado

down the street from my house last night. I definitely had the interior most closet prepped with some pillows and a battery powered radio. Thankfully, the tornado hit The Commons aka apartment complex packed with annoying college kids. They were all fine. Whatever. In any case, 'tis the season! Tornado season.

Lord Gary:



Get on down to your fraidy hole:

in which i am lame

I like blogs. I like reading blogs. I like commenting on blogs. I like reading comments on blogs. I like blogging. Sort of. I can't seem to get my act together keeping up with this thing, but I think that I need to try. Lately, I've become more boring than myself circa 2007, which is shocking, really. I didn't think it was actually possible. In any case, no one reads this, which is cool, so I'm just going to start posting for myself. Because it's always been all about me anyway.



And on that note, have you ever gone to get a hair cut, your first in say, six months (not cool, I know) and then left the salon with the midwestern news anchor? I just can't win in the hair department. I either need to go Crystal Gale or go home.

oh for fuck's sake

I love me some Smith College. I really do. But sometimes, I want to take its whatever it is, radical liberalism, something, I don't really know, and shove it up its cunt. Except I can't say that because that's gender specific. Except Smith's a college for women. So I want to shove it up its reconstructed peen hole.

Love you Smith!

Bath Tub Time Machine

Did you know that my house has two full baths? Well, it does. One has a shower, the other a tub. Since ghosts of roommates past always used the bath with the tub, I've always been skeeved out by it. But, yesterday, after deciding I'd sufficiently cleaned it (again), I went for it. And it was awesome. I listened to This American Life. I opened the window so it was kinda like a hot tub outside thing happening. I used an entire thing of bubble bath and kept refilling the tub with more hot water (we have two hot water tanks for some reason). Seeing as how my vacation budget has been eaten up by the dog, this is probably as good as it's going to get this year.

Awesome picture, no?

I should've been a vet

Dang! We had to take Zeb to the vet last night. I had to take out a small loan this morning. I joke, sort of. Little dude got his guts in a twist and was puking et al yesterday. So, we take him in and he's examined (for $41) and then probed (for $26) and then tested (for $100) and then diagnosed and finally treated (for $1,000,000.00). He had a high itestinal (lunch anyone?) bacteria count and was given injections of antibiotics and other stuff to get him back on track. I also paid for doggie Imodium, more antibiotics and had to cook him rice and chicken for dinner (more than I do for most people). Long story short, I'm out a lot of money for a dog that completely rebounded by midnight last night.

If Zeb were a kid, I'd totally have just pumped him full of Pedialyte and some saltines and plopped him in front of Sponge Bob while I mixed up some G&Ts for myself with the money I saved from not taking him to the doctor. Does this make me a bad person? How come I care more about my dog than a kid (Not that I have one. That I know of. There were some crazy times.)?

The bottom line is I should've been a vet.

P.S. Happy tax day! (Dear OK, you will get mine tomorrow. Love in Christ, B)

In which I kind of want to bomb this blog and start over.

Or maybe it's that I use up all of my (very small) wit on FaceDevilbook. In any case, this thing needs an extreme blog makeover for all one zero of you still reading.

In the meantime, do you ever get a song so lodged in your head you justify listening to it 10 times in a row on your way to work? I thank you, Arcade Fire. I was completely sullen and wanting to learn to play the organ (not that one, get your mind out of the gutter) when I arrived at work this morning.

I have no idea where this video came from. I'm tool lame to figure out how to acutally post my music.


Arcade Fire - My body is a cage
Uploaded by TonyT0482. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

Riddle me this:

I am almost twenty fucking nine years old. Now, why do I have a zit nearish my chin? WHY? For fuck's sake. Good thing Zeb prevents me from leaving the house other than work. Soon, soon he will be able to stay in his crate alone and I will again be antisocial for different reasons. Soon.

Happy Sunday, y'all.

i want to go to there

via Gawker

v-day FAIL

why, oh why must i be in a relationship with someone who goes all liz lemon on v-day. yeah, i went to a ladies only college and should want to observe anna howard shaw day, but excuse me if i don't like a little attention and some lovin'. i got up bright and early (9) to trudge through the snow (again with this? i might as well have stayed in mass) to get him some old fashioned and blueberry cake donuts to at least do a tiny out of the ordinary thing for him. so, i did my part. i also bought myself a gift since as whitney houston sang, "learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all."

in a related story, on the whole, i have a pretty rad bf, so i should probably shut up and remember my inner smithie. also, zeb is a pretty sweet valentine.

Look at what I got!

Sorry I've been MIA. I've been busy not eating, being grumpy, suffering from SAD, surviving ice storms and local weather media, complaining about the gym, crying over my bank balance, having more dental work and ...

Glamour shot.

chilling with this little dude! His name is Zeb. As in Zebulon. Like Pike. Except we call him all kinds of things. Like Zebron James, Merriam-Zebster, zebutante, zebulator(! - you have to yell that one), Zebbie, zeptic tank, etc. Basically, he has no idea who he is.

Treats. Treats. Treats.

A dude at work brought him in because baby Zeb had followed his wife home. The BF and I discussed adding him to the household, but by the time we'd decided, someone else had offered to give Zeb a home. So, naturally, I was heartbroken for a week, but that's ok because there was an ice storm, so I had lots of things to distract me from checking out every.single.dog on petfinder.com. Not. Cut to Monday of last week when I learned that Zeb was still available! His interim owner wasn't sure Zeb was the right fit since he already had four grown Rotts and Zeb, was, well, a tiny puppy. So, I brought him home Monday night!

Give me some m-effing treats!

Naturally, he's adorable. I have no idea what breed, though. The vet put him at maybe 10 - 12 weeks last week and he weighed in at 11 pounds. I don't think he's gonna get that big, but who knows. What I do know is that he's had one accident inside in six days, chews the hell out of a stuffed toy, is a Kong addict, sleeps through the night, loves cheddar and freeze dried liver. I'm in lurv.

Thank you.

Right, so, thus far, training is going well. It's kind of exhausting, but in a good kind of way when he masters a command or we get a little snuggle time. Right now, he's sleeping in his crate next to me, making precious puppy snoring sounds that will surely be replaced by puppy destruction sounds in the coming months, so I'm signing off to enjoy his innocence.

Super spoon.

BREAKING NEWS:

I think I'm bored with the internet. Like, I've looked at all I can think of to look at and I either get sad because I didn't think of it, didn't understand it, or want to buy it then remember I sold my soul to the Department of Education. It's a sad, sad day when my most visited sites are gmail, weather.com and msnbc.com. WTF, self?

oh dear.

What I know about Haiti I (well, I mean I knew basic geographical, historical and political information) I learned from reading Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder about Paul Farmer and his work on cultural understandings of disease and medicine in Haiti and other countries plagued by infectious diseases. I read the book for a medical anthropology class in college, which turned out to be one of my favorite classes*, in spite of making probably a B- because I inexplicably refused to turn anything in on time. Tracy Kidder's writing and Paul Farmer's super human efforts really made an impact on me. I even donated to Partners In Health when I was still in school. So, not that Haiti is any more or less important than any other area struck by any kind of disaster, but it holds one of the few soft spots in my heart. I implore you to read the book. If you're going to donate to anything, consider a donation to Partners In Health.


*Thanks Dr. Joralemon. I sucked in your class, but you were a kickass professor and I shockingly retained and carry with me much that I learned that semester. Sorry for being an unresponsive jerk.