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25 July 2010 @ 01:39 pm
Of all the shows I was looking forward to this summer, Psych was the top of my list. There is almost nothing better in my universe than Shawn and Gus bumping fists and making up names and hearing it both ways for 42 minutes. I've loved every season, though the second season is my least favorite, and I've rewatched the whole series countless times (ok, I can count them. I've rewatched 3 times. Geez, be pedantic why don't you). So I have some very high expectations

Follow the cut to find out if this week's ep lived up to my hype.Collapse )
 
 
25 July 2010 @ 09:39 am
Gosh it's been a long time. I think I'm back...maybe...possibly...

My old posts are going to stay under a friends lock, but I think everything else will now be public...

We'll see how this goes. It's really all to do with BF'ers suggesting (read: harassing) I reopen this lj, so here goes!
 
 
01 December 2006 @ 12:01 am
Welcome to my journal. Take a look around, make yourself comfortable. Please disregard the hairy naked man in the corner.

There are several benefits to reading tfis journal, including Philosophical Enlightenment, Shock and Awe, Much Amusement, and World Peace. It is also possible that, at one time or another, you will see a frog dancing in a Hello my Baby kind of way. This is part of the Philosophical Enlightenment section.

This journal is currently friends only, but I'm very friendly, so there you go. Just comment here and friend me, and as long as you're not a family member or my boss, I'll friend you back. Comments are screened.


Free Web Counter Free Web Counter
 
 
30 June 2006 @ 09:08 pm
Do you ever find it disturbing that there are Fire Fighter Operation Instructions in elevators? Think about it. First, I thought you weren't supposed to use elevators in fires! (though...does anyone know why, exactly?) Second, um...are you telling me that the people who are supposed to save me when my building is on fire and I live twenty stories up can't remember how to do their job without a little on the spot refresher course? Seriously. Scribbling A squared plus B squared equals C squared on the back of your hand in high school is one thing. Needing a cheat sheet to rescue me from a burning building? Quite another.

And sidenote here, because I sort of swore a blood oath to myself and whatever gods watch over livejournal that I would never write an entry like the following because entries like the following are lame, but...BOY it's been a long time since I last updated! I mean, sheesh! I'm kind of at a loss as to why I don't write as much anymore, but I think it has to do with no longer being trapped on an uncomfortable moving vehicle for three hours a day. I have more time now, and I mostly spend it dicking around, which, if I'm quite honest, is how I would rather spend it.

I'm off to the beach this weekend for the holiday, a LONG holiday, about which I'm surprisingly ambivalent (I think I actually am happier with the structure a job provides. Now if only I could do something about the whole actual working thing. And the getting up early). In theory, this beach trip might involve some writing that would get transcribed here later, but...in all likelihood...it's probably mostly going to involve a lot of (you guessed it) dicking around.
 
 
 
 
25 April 2006 @ 11:04 pm
I just heard a weird scratching noise (twice!), and in the following 2 seconds convinced myself (1) that there was a rat in my room, (2) that it was going to climb onto my bed and bite me in my sleep and (3) that I would then get the bubonic plague.

And then after I died all my things would have to be burned and my orphan child would stand on the street crying before being sent to England to live with scary relatives.

Wait, that's the Secret Garden.

EEEEEWWWWW. I completely can't go to sleep now.
 
 
23 April 2006 @ 11:44 pm
Don't you just love Google Ads? They seem to know all this stuff about you, and then WHAM! You get directed to a site where you can buy Groucho Glasses at discount wholesale.

Because (and be honest!) who doesn't need 200 pairs of Groucho Glasses on hand, just in case?
 
 
small rant, containing spoilers for Big Love through this point, and possibly past it:Collapse )

Now that I got my ranting out of my system...sort of...I'm trying to decide whether to go to a baseball game with my vaguely hated cousin.

I know, I know, this should be an easy choice. I generally can't stand my cousin, she drives me crazy--thus, don't go! But...I always feel guilted into socializing by my general desire to meet people. It's like, if I don't take advantage of opportunities when they come, even if they're not opportunities that I like, better opportunities will never come around. And while I doubt I'll really like any of my cousin's friends, at least I'll be making an effort.

And baseball. I love baseball.

But the downside (aside from voluntarily spending time with my cousin) is that I'd be out crazily late and be tired for the rest of the week.

So...here's a poll, except even though I have a paid account I can't figure out how polls work, so it's just a verbal poll...should I go to the baseball game or not?
 
 
22 April 2006 @ 11:46 pm
It's raining here, a steady rain that makes everything seem quiet and far away. The whole day has been like this--raindrops falling without urgency, the kind of rain you think about when you use the word 'rain.' It feels like it might go on forever, like the world might just be wet for awhile.

It's not spitting rain, the kind that bites into your skin and your eyes and makes you wish you could stay indoors forever. It's rain as a weapon, drops sharp as knives, and each step into the wind is a choice.

Then there's the driving, pelting rain that tries to wash everything away, clear everything in its path. You can stand outside for seconds and be drenched through and through, a drowned rat, a new man. It's so easy to cross the line between destruction and renewal, between being washed clean and being cleansed completely away.

This is random I know, but I was suddenly thinking of how the weather affects everyone so strongly. How when it's sunny in the city everyone smiles as they walk to lunch and they actually look at each other's faces instead of at the sidewalk in front of their feet. And that I feel the steadiness of this rain under my skin, that it's driving me to be quiet, that it's pulling me under in a weak tide. A quiet sadness, really, but not an unenjoyable sadness--somber. That's the word for it. It pervades my house, as the rain echoes off the windows and the sound of it drowns out everything else. It seems like it will last forever, this peaceful sadness. A grayness that goes on and on.

But of course the rain will stop, and in the morning the sun will shine and glisten off the drops that still cling to the trees and the ground will squish beneath my feet. But under the blue sky the wet will look different, it will look like new life and spring and April showers bringing May flowers.
 
 
22 April 2006 @ 01:53 pm
My sister was just on TV! Just for being so cool. Yay, my sister!
 
 
 
So I took my dog for a walk, and when I came back, I had this big red bug bite on my leg. I couldn't figure out what it was, but it itched like crazy. And then all these crazy red lines started shooting out of it through the rest of my leg, and I couldn't really walk, and my little sister had to help me drive myself to the hospital. By the time I got there, my leg had swollen up, and it looked like it belonged to the state puffed marshmallow man. And then I don't remember much, except doctors talking and someone saying they were going to have to cut my leg off and me saying, 'no, no! Cut my hand off instead!' because I was hopped up on pain killers and whatever the hell was in that spider. But then I woke up, and it was two days later, and my leg was normal sized again and still attached to my body. So everything worked out just fine.

And then I got home from work after a long and weird day, and made this whole thing up. The end.
 
 
Dick Cheney has shot the Easter Bunny in a hunting accident.
 
 
02 April 2006 @ 09:04 pm
Happy Birthday Ros!
 
 
24 March 2006 @ 10:39 pm
E...is for chargin Extra mon..ney

P...is really Pretty, under ordinary

T...is for the Time it takes to get me home at night and A is short for Asinine

SEPTA...was made for me and you.


I have discovered SEPTA’s evil plot.

The non-existent cell reception? In the tunnels, where you wait for the train? They do it on purpose.

That way, when you’re pissed off because your train is listed as

35

minutes late (it only comes every hour, for gods sake!), you can’t call a friend and complain right away. And you can’t leave the tunnel to find cell reception, because despite what the board says, the train could actually come at any time at all. So you just have to sit there and stew.

Yes, ok, you can call once the train emerges from the tunnels. But by then the rant has cooled! Your anger is slightly more distant. The shock of that first moment is gone.

SEPTA’s word of mouth is bad enough as it is. They don’t need any more negative publicity.

And now they just made us change trains! WTF.

Who’s hiring the thumb chopping hit men for me?
 
 
23 March 2006 @ 10:04 pm
I like to stand right up next to the yellow line while I’m waiting for the train on the way home. I look for the lights coming down the tunnel, and it’s like I’m saying hello to someone I’m a bit relieved to see actually showed up. Plus, I feel like it’s a JuJu thing—that if I smile nice and pretty at the train, it will stop just so, and I will be magically next to the door. If I’m the first on to the train, I can usually get a window seat.

Tonight, when I smiled at the oncoming train?

This kid thought I was smiling at him!

He was maybe 19 or 20, but he seemed much younger when he wiggled his eyebrows at me and his glasses almost fell off his nose.

This of course made me crack up—but then he thought I was smiling more! He tipped his cap!

You think I am kidding, but literally, he was wearing a baseball cap and he tipped it at me. While once again raising his eyebrows. And when I say raised, I mean wiggled, as in it looked like a caterpiller was doing a little dance on his forehead.

Possibly the best moment of my day, right there. Because I am evil. Eeee-vil.