Friday, February 29, 2008

You've Got Crap!

Either word has gone around that I am in dire need of some kind of existential help, or the grown ups in my life are deliberately trying to make me crazy.

There has recently been a spate of annoying e-mail forwards hitting my inbox from what are otherwise normal, intelligent adults in their 50s and 60s. You remember these - you used to get them about 10-15 years ago when e-mail was, you know, new. They contain things like "Hey look! I made you a picture of an angel out of ampersands! Aren't I clever? Don't you think everyone you know should have one too? If you send this to your entire address book, Ampersand Angel will send you blessings for the rest of your life! But if you delete it you will ROT IN ETERNAL HELLFIRE!" Some are more specific: "One time some anonymous, unverifiable person didn't forward this e-mail full of pictures of puppies dress up in snowsuits, and later that same day they were dismembered alive by a pack of homicidal gypsies. Don't let this happen to you."

Stop it. I mean it. Stopstopstopstopstop. I thought we had collectively outgrown this annoying habit. Even accounting for the possibility that maybe these people have just now discovered this cutting edge technology that is electronic mail there is still no excuse. These are GROWN PEOPLE, old enough to realize that failing to send out horribly stupid chain mail is not going to cause a catastrophic outcome somewhere else in your life. As far as the little angels that want to shower me with celestial blessings, I think this would be entirely negated by the principle of "Do Unto Others". If you wouldn't want your inbox cluttered with crap, it would behoove you to refrain from sending it to others. No soup blessings for you.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

R.I.P. Todd Kawaguchi

Hey, dumbass. We miss you already. Tai's won't be the same without you.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Eleven Degrees Farenheit = ....

... not nearly enough degrees.

I can't feel my face.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Only One Month Until SBJ Day!

"Why are you here?" seemed to be the $64,000 question at Tai's on Thursday night. Because it was Valentine's Day, see, and I have a boyfriend this year. I attempted to justify myself to MrSteve. "You know how much energy it takes for you to spend four hours with me?" I asked. "[The agent] just spent four entire days with me in Florida. He could use the break."

This seemed to appease him (he agreed that four hours in my company is draining indeed) but the truth is that this has nothing to do with it. The real reason is that I hate Valentine's Day and I fail to see why having a boyfriend should affect my overall opinion. OK, hate may be a strong word. It's just that I can't bring myself to believe that there should be one magic day on which your love must be declared in embarrassingly florid terms lest you sign yourself up for Certain Doom. If I fail to show my love an overwhelming majority of the time, I doubt some dead plants and a cardboard box filled with heart-shaped confections will be the magic relationship fixing elixir. (Except for chocolate covered strawberries from Malley's in Cleveland. Those can fix anything.) I find it more satisfying to celebrate the St. Valentine's Day Massacre because a) that's how Valentine's Day tends to make the lonely single people feel and b) that really was a pretty badass piece of trickery.

Having said that, I did dye the rice pink when the agent came over for dinner on Friday night.

Friday, February 01, 2008

Two Girls, One Chat

me: i wish i was a muppet
H-town: doesn't that really just mean you want a hand in your ass?
me: *hangs head in shame* yes
H-town: Ah, now I know what that tingling is - it's the knowledge that this is going to be blogged
me: i said the same thing to MrSteve last week and he said "My dear, you ARE a muppet"
H-town: Really, I just like making "hand in the ass" references
me: who doesn't?
H-town: proctologists?
H-town: zing!
me: hand in the ass is a masterpiece of comedy
H-town: *rimshot*
H-town: hahaha, rimshot
H-town: I AM ON A ROLL
me: i am on a bagel
H-town: zing!
H-town: oh yeah, folks, we'll be here all week
me: try the veal

My Tonton Will Die Before I Reach the First Marker

"You're going to have a rough commute today," announced the bartender this morning. I blew this off and attempted to roll over and go back to sleep. (It turns out I couldn't move, because Kristen was sitting on top of me like a conquering explorer with a look on her face like she was going to yell "I claim this mountain for the United States!" and plant a flag in my hip.) It had snowed all night overnight and was still snowing. I wasn't concerned. After all, I take the train to work like a sane person so how bad could it be? It is this kind of thinking that causes one to fail at life.

In fact, it could be very bad. My four block walk to the train took me 20 minutes. This is because there was a foot of snow on the ground and it was too early for anyone to have shoveled. Also when I got to the train I was exhausted and sweating from the effort. I figure, who needs an exercise plan when you can just walk in feet of snow with a backpack? I reasoned that if I had to do this every day I'd be as skinny as Twiggy. Except for my thighs which would be more like Barbaro (pre glue factory).

I hate snow.