Nightmare on My Street - Who Knew?

What to my wondering ears should appear but one Fresh Prince and 8 midi drum riffs? I wonder whatever happened to DJ Jazzy Jeff? And the youtube below is the best. It's some kind of crazy Freddy tribute set to Fresh Prince's Nightmare on My Street. Think about that for a second. A tribute video. To Freddy. Set to a Fresh Prince song. Called Nightmare on My Street. The sheer amount of ridiculousness involved in this piece of genius is what Halloween is all about. And candy.

Enjoy!

RIP Dorothy, Maude, Bea...

I learned so much about Bea Arthur when I read her obit in the NYTimes on Sunday. I didn't know she died until then. I was in DC over the weekend and missed any important news until I picked up a copy of the paper Sunday evening in the airport. (PSA - buy papers!) I was surprised - not about her death although that was sad but about all the interesting facts within. Did you know that Bea didn't own up to any one age? No one really knows how old she is. I might start adopting that philosophy. The NYTimes said she was probably around 86 though.

I've seen a ton of stuff about her on the internet, some of which I'll post links to. But I think my favorite Bea Arthur moment, aside from her Golden Girls years (did you know I'm always a Dorothy in GG quizzes?), is the time she helped roast Pamela Anderson and read aloud from Pam's book about the joys/intriques of anal sex. It's pretty much the funniest thing I've ever heard involving Pam Anderson, which really says a lot.

My list of web-related/tv-related Bea activities and my own, personal favorite Bea moments:

1. WE is planning a 2 night homage to Dorothy Zbornak last night and Thursday night. If you missed last night, check it out (or DVR it) on Thursday.

2. USA Today did a thing about her. And the LATimes did a fairly decent obit as well.

3. Maude had an abortion. Did you know? She was in her 40s, married, and decided she was too old to have a baby. So she did it. Pretty shocking by today's tv standards. Of course Maude was a spin-off of All in the Family, so what can you expect? (See the Jezebel piece for the video on it.)

4. This is the fabulous NYTimes obit I read about her (along with a picture slideshow). It's really good.

5. Jezebel has a top 5 Bea Arthur moment piece that includes two of my favorites (the Pam Anderson bit and a song and dance bit from early on, which admittedly I only saw for the first time in the last couple of years).

6. Bea singing in a Star Wars Holiday special. Ha! Freaking hilarious.

7. And finally one of my favorite, non-zinger Dorothy moments on Golden Girls:

They say you're Irish...

nah nah nah nah nah nah. Well I'm Irish too. nah nah nah nah nah nah.

Or at least that's what they tell me. So I'm here, wearing green, and I've seriously contemplated the outcomes of pinching strangers in the elevator who are not. (I've decided to avoid the battery and since I'm officially admitting my contemplation, the assault as well.) My family insists the only thing they are, aside from poor, country folk, is Irish. I tend to believe this because of the following:

1. I have blonde hair.
2. I have blue eyes.
3. I'm afraid of snakes (although technically this comes from the non-Irish side but whatev).
4. Almost every man in my family has a Riley or Odais somewhere in their name.
5. I spent the majority of my early childhood lying in the mounds of clovers in my front yard looking for a four-leafed clover. Or is it four leaf clover? I'm unsure.
6. My dad's facial hair comes in red, which is why he only ever grew a beard when he was in Vietnam and shaves regularly since then (or so he says).
7. I'm still fairly certain the tiny footprints I used to see in my old bathroom were those of a leprechaun.
8. I look good in green.
9. Rainbow Brite was my favorite cartoon/book character as a child. (It's a rainbow, pot-at-the-end thing.)
10. I've seen Gone With the Wind at least a dozen times, intermission and all (and if you don't know why this is Irish, shame on you).
11. The only tattoo I've ever wanted to get was a green clover. I'm never going to get that tattoo, so don't worry, but it's the only thing I'd consider putting permanently on my body.
12. The fat in my ass is shaped in large part by potato products. And assorted other white foods.
13. My senior thesis in college was written on the role of mermaids in the folklore (well only folklore to us) of 13th century, Irish popular culture. I like to think of it more as a feminist take on the mean, mean Irish men (or any men of the era), but it's primary focus was Irish folklore. (Small aside: my love of the name Lorelai comes from the mermaid stories I read then not Gilmore Girls, although I'd be perfectly happy to be aptly compared to Lorelai Gilmore.)
14. I like Whiskey. Mainly U.S. whiskey but whiskey nonetheless.
and finally
15. I do not drink green beer.

And in case you can't tell, I have no empirical reason to believe I'm Irish. It's all made up bullshit. BUT. I've always been disappointed by my lack of ethnicity, so I embrace all the green good luck I can wrap my colloquial brain around.

In honor of St. Patrick's day, here's my made up Irish prayer, just for you:

May your days be spent floating on mounds of green clover;

May you always get to be Rainbow Brite for Halloween;

May your whiskey go down smoothly;

And may your own, personal St. Patrick chase away all the snakes.

Flaming Lips Awesomeness...

Saw this on PopCandy. It might be the coolest thing I've ever seen... this month. I'm seriously crushing on FL right now.

Flaming Lips covering Madonna's Borderline. Could there be anything better in life?

Skydiving...

Well I did it. I wanted to wait until I had video to post, but I guess that's not happening anytime soon - thanks bf! I'll try to post again once it becomes somehow accessible to me and not on someone's weird, little recording tape that I haven't seen since the 1990s. But apparently it's quality. Whatever.

Turns out the skydiving got canceled and then rescheduled. I got all psyched up for Saturday and then it was too gusty. But Sunday? Perfect day.

Let me set the scene: I finally went to sleep early Sunday morning (after pitching a pitiful fit to the bf about having to get up early the next day and insisting on going to bedorshire). Of course I couldn't sleep because I kept hearing the wind knock against the windows and wondering if the whole thing was going to be called off - yet again. Part of me hoped it would, because I was crazy tired but the better part of me was hoping Texas weather would do me proud. I woke up at 8:30 (see? early!) and called my co-skydiver in crime. She called back shortly and told me we were on. Of course I still had a little time to snooze if I wanted but I was way to excited/antsy.

I went to the living room and found a Golden Girls marathon on the Hallmark Channel (aside: GG moved from Lifetime to Hallmark! Who knew?) and I was pretty certain it was a good omen. After I'd finally coaxed the bf out of the house, we made our way to the launch pad. I insisted on having a bagel before I fell out of a plane and after about 3 stops - bagels are hard to find! - I was officially on my way.

In the car ride there - the place was a good 30-40 minutes away - the bf was amazed AMAZED! at how cool, calm, and collected I was. I told him there was nothing to mentally prepare for, so really what was there to think about at this point? He thought there was definitely a mental preparation aspect to the whole thing, but after discussing with my co-jumper, also a lawyer, we decided it must be our profession that keeps us from getting nervous at attempts at physical endeavors. Put me in a courtroom and I'll be reciting this or that, anticipating arguments, going over easy objections, etc. in my head the entire morning before. But skydiving? Chatter and fun music is all I had to think about.

Blah, blah, blah, 1 orange jumpsuit later and we're up in the plane. I looked like a convict but at least I was visible... I guess. My instructor woman! asked me if I had any questions - as we're climbing up to 10,000 feet of course - and I just wanted to know what happened if she died on my back before she pulled the cord thing. (I swear I'd just seen something on yahoo news or similar about that.) Luckily the chute had a gadget that automatically triggered the parachute if we reached a certain altitude.

As I looked out the window on the way up, I was completely calm. I realized there wasn't one butterfly in my stomach, which was nice because I can't say I feel that way on any normal day, much less a day when I'm about to potentially plummet to my death. We scooted, quite literally, up to the plane door and as we waddled our way forward I had a momentary panic moment (much like I do when I stand on a diving board or when I'm tripping over my shoes at the top of my staircase at home, or ya know, the crack on the sidewalk outside work, whatevs) that I was about to fall. Luckily I didn't have much time for speculation and before I could think to put my hands in front of me to catch myself, I was out. And flying! And all of a sudden realizing I couldn't breathe. Nope, I wasn't flying - I was very quickly suffocating to death. My brain was telling my mouth that of course I could breathe; I was surrounded by air; there was nothing I could do but breathe. But of course my illogical lack of oxygen receiving lungs took over and I panted horribly. Luckily the free fall portion was over relatively quickly. It wasn't a scary experience by any stretch but more of an uncomfortable feeling that passed as soon as the wind stopped hitting me in the face so hard.

And then IT happened. The parachute opened and after the initial lurch and feeling of gravity, I experienced one of the most peaceful, calm, and relaxing few minutes of my entire life. It was pretty remarkable.

I did worry briefly when I saw my friend spiraling crazily downward but apparently that's what we were all doing and it only looked scary from above (so said my tandem jump instructor). There was one weird thing though. As we were getting closer to the ground, my instructor was telling me how to put my feet for landing, etc. I responded "okay" after every instruction she gave. Apparently this caused her some amount of anxiety because she said, "you keep saying 'okay' but are you really okay?" Um, is there some kind of conversation I should be having when I falling toward the earth? Is there a Miss Manners on this subject that I don't know about? What should I have been saying? Not okay? Commenting on last week's episode of Lost? Strange.

We landed on our feet, just like I'd imagine you'd land if you could really fly, about 6 feet away from the guy who unhooked us, so I'm guessing my instructor was pretty accurate. I kept wanting the parachute to collapse all around me so I could come climbing out from underneath it like they do on cartoons but they were too professional for all that.

Things I learned:

1) Wear your hair back and don't let one, single strand get loose. I had quite a few strays and that shit was impossible to brush for hours!

2) Bring your own gloves. I don't know of finger diseases, necessarily, but if there are some, you'd get them sharing general skydiving gloves with all the other scrubby folks who run through that place.

3) Skydiving is the best way ever to have a peaceful day. I had the most relaxing day that I've probably ever had - or at least had in the last few years. I just kept thinking, as I was sitting on the couch reading, "I should really start all my days off like this."

4) If you're an adrenaline junkie, don't skydive. It's not all that adrenaline-enducing. I didn't do it for that purpose, but I was a tad bit surprised I wasn't more hyped up after it was all said and done.

5) Don't talk very much to your instructor. Those fools will do everything in their power to freak your shit out. I didn't encounter it so much with my instructor, but I could see it in others and feel it bubbling just underneath the surface of mine.

6) Always go skydiving (as in go to the location) with someone who won't do it. It really helps with the superiority complex you're bound to have after you're done.

Tunde Adebimpe is a funny name...

When I saw Rachel's Getting Married, I had no idea that this guy (who I secretly thought perhaps had some kind of mental disability):

Was one of these guys:

And when I was busy making a stand against corporate America by, ahem, "downloading" TV on the Radio, I had no clue Tunde Adebimpe (same guy in both pics) was an actor as well. Supposedly he's a good actor but to be honest, it's really hard to tell on Rachel's Getting Married. He doesn't really do all that much but look happy, do dishes really quickly, and hide when the yelling starts. Not exactly what his degree at NYU's film school prepared him for, I'm sure.

But then last night, when TV on the Radio was on the Colbert Report, I felt kinda bad when Colbert asked them if they were just in it for the money and they said something akin to: at this point, yes. So I guess I'm off to amazon (still cheaper than iTunes) to *sigh* buy some goddamned music.

Oh and I've recently rediscovered Joan of Arcadia. That shit rocks. And Amber Tamblyn, minus the poetry because I just don't dig poetry, is awesome. She should do more movies or a tv show or something. Maybe she could join Gossip Girl and reunite with Blake Lively? I'd like something more substantial though... Maybe she can take Izzie's place on Grey's Anatomy? But only if GA gets some good writing again. I'm desperate for a new Gilmore Girls or Veronica Mars. She should do something like that. Where is her agent and why doesn't s/he read this blog?

If I were going to the inauguration...

I'd wear this:



But with better hair and possibly in a deep, royal/peacock blue. I'd prefer a royal blue with the iridescent parts in peacock blue. Damn, I'd look good next to Obama. Not, you know, in place of Michelle, per se, just for pictures and what not.

America - fuck yeah!

I sat in someone else's living room. I heard the cheers. I lifted my glass. I sat outside. I heard screams coming from neighboring houses. I drove home. There were people dancing in the street and horns honking all around.

Austin wasn't this happy when Vince Young won us the Rose Bowl in 2005. I love it here, and for the first day in my entire life, I wish I had a flag pin.

Oh and Karl Rove? Raise those Horns and sing that fight song again and I will send Bevo after you. I'm not even kidding.

I'm off to holiday at the Cape.

Aren't you jealous of my poser self? I've never been to Cape Cod. Or anywhere on the East Coast other than NYC and DC, although I do firmly feel if I had to choose, I'd be an East Coast Woah-man. But you know, I'm landlocked currently. Unless I drive a couple of hours away that is. I digress.

I'm off to vacay and have a wonderfully long weekend with a bunch of excellent, intellectually stimulating women. (Actually I've never met most of them but whatever. It's best to start with bright expectations.) I'd be happy with a good joke and a free-flowing bottle of wine actually. I'm not terribly hard to please.

I'll be hitting up Provincetown and seeing the infamous Varla Jean (I hope I got that right) from the drag queen Project Runway ep. She was the winning model, at least in the sense that she was wearing the pink pantsuit that won. I'll also be stopping by the Marc Jacobs store because I'm a sucker for "special items" found only in-store. Plus there are no stores here in ATX.

I purchased some very naughty items for a certain lingerie shower that shall remain to-be bride nameless. I bought (don't read past here B if you've found the time in your busy schedule to actually read this dribble!) an awesome riding crop thing that makes me want to hit everyone I know. With the riding crop, that is. And only when I'm holding it in my hand. Which I haven't done so very often, really. I mean, it is at my house and all. And I wouldn't be a very good friend if I gave her faulty goods, would I? I should really make sure it works well...

I haven't used it any kind of dirty way, unless you count slapping the couch with it and telling Hillary to "get in line" right before she spoke last night at the DNC. But I don't count that. Speaking of HRC, sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits? How awesome was that line? When she started in on sisterhood, I was weary, when she got to traveling I was audibly groaning, waiting for the shitty punchline, but when she came to pantsuits, I laughed out loud at both myself for expecting the worst and HRC for making a funny.

I've always been a HRC fan. Until the last few months. And I'm pretty sure I'm no fan of Bill's anymore either. I defended his bad behavior when it was helping me but I'm pretty sure he's a big, fat asshole who can't keep it in his pants. I have enough ego to satisfy my entire world. I don't need it from him too. BUT. I fell in like with HRC all over again last night. It was if the prior devious and dirty months were erased. I didn't put on my pink, rosy glasses or anything and I'm still suspicious of motives, but she done good. Good job, Hills. You deserve the praise.

Long way of saying, I'll be out for a few days. Try not to cry and if the empty comment section is any indication, I'm sure all the varied and many people out there who read this blog (um rambling?) will manage just fine.

See you next fiscal year! (Oh my. Too nerdy?)

Ding dong, the Olympics are dead.

I love the Olympics as much as the next anti-nationalist gal. It's the only time I can truly get excited about the American flag, the national anthem, and random chants of "USA!" That said, I'm so glad they're over. Truthfully I'm so incredibly sleep-deprived from the event that I could be bordering on delirious. Last night was the first night I've slept more than 5 hours in over a week.

Here are some highlights/random thoughts about the whole experience:

1) Do Nastia Lukin's legs bend outward? (I got into a point and shout match with a couple of friends over this one. They couldn't see and everytime one of her legs bent inside out, I pointed and shouted, "See? Right there! Those should not be concave from that angle!" It was awesome.)

2) It's that damn Phelps squiggly kid again. I get he's got more medals than all the African countries put together but if a person has no knowledge base with which to compare the greatness of a mess of medals, does it really matter? Meaning - how the hell can so many freaking people give a rat's ass about this weirdo swimmer guy?

3) Except in the case of that amazing relay. That was straight up awesome.

4) I'm only a fan of basketball in All-Star game situations, i.e. the Redeem Team (dumb name though). And when I'm a fan I'm also suddenly an expert. It's only annoying to those people in the room who aren't me.

5) Gymnastics rules. Unless it's on a trampoline or uses a hula hoop. Then it's just dumb.

6) Speaking of gymnastics, how do those girls not have the worst shin splints in the world? Mysterious...

7) I'm secretly in love with Usain Bolt. He's too quick for me to catch up to him though. Get it? Quick? 'Cause he's, um, fast? Whatever. Nonetheless that dude seriously made the other runners look like they were mall walking. When he wasn't showboating and you could tell he was crazy nervous, he made me love him just a tiny bit more. USAin! What? It's similar.

8) What I wouldn't give to be a fly on one of the many walls at the Athlete's Village. Heard those folks got all kinds of busy.

9) How exactly do you break a sweat playing ping pong? And why isn't it called ping pong?

10) Way to make a girl feel old - change the rules to volleyball since she last played it (in junior high).

11) Why is beach volleyball an Olympic sport? I can't stand it on the beach and I especially can't fucking stand it on tv. Shoot me if I hear another commentator talk about hard it is to leap and jump from the sand. You know what would make leaping and jumping easier for you freaks? Being indoors on a real gym floor, that's what. Shut up.

12) Listening to boxing commentators is probably the most hilarious thing I've ever done (in the last 2-3 days). And I quote: "You better learn how to fight if your mom makes you wear a dress. Or run." But all in this slightly insane high-pitched Jersey accent. He was talking about a boy, in case you didn't put it together. It was damn funny.

Here's hoping the Dem Convention will be just as entertaining! MSNBC, here I come. Keith O better rule that jackass Chris Matthews or I'll be pissed.

I think this is called tagging?

She named me - is that the official tag? I'm new to all of this stuff. If so, here goes. If not, oh well. I haven't done a survey since my rabid myspace days. Thanks to Blondie for the... tag? She's on my blogroll so you probably have but if you haven't, read her blog. It's definitely read-at-work worthy.

1. What are the last three things you purchased?
I won't list groceries and my amazing good deal on Electrasol thingees at Target because that's boring, right? I bought an Astros hat at Walmart Saturday morning. I am usually anti-Walmart, and it's on my "boycott when convenient" list (along with Target pharmacies, Exxon, and beef products). But the bf wanted to look at Star Wars toys (please, please don't ask), and we were in hostile country (Clear Lake) where the only thing resembling Target was Walmart. So we went and since I wanted a hat to wear to the Astros game that night, I bought it. It was only $12 too! I now know what anti-union, anti-American smells like. It smells like the cheap, cheap price of $11.99, and I have to say I liked it. Let's see. I also bought some ear buds (with bling on them!) in the clearance section at Target over the weekend and 2 UT Longhorn shirts at Kohls. I don't support buying your own school's memorabilia like that (I'm weird, I know), but I'm going to Cape Cod over Labor Day and figured I could get away with wearing them there.

2. What are the last thee songs you downloaded?
Ha! Three songs from the Newsies soundtrack. A Christian Bale post on Jezebel last week got me all Newsied-up and since my soundtrack got stolen a billion years ago, I downloaded what I could find of the record. I love that movie.

3. Where were the last three places you visited?
Nasa (to take a special behind-the-scenes tour), Moody Gardens (where we snuck into the Titanic exhibit - boring - so glad we didn't pay), and Minute Maid Field (see previous post). It was an extension of the staycation where we traveled far and away (Houston) to visit all the lame touristy places we never bothered to go to when we (I) lived there.

4. What are your three favorite movies?
Only 3? I'm counting series as 1 movie - Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Goonies. (I could have easily listed the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, Legally Blonde, and Bridget Jones' Diary but I was going with my nerdy list this time.) See what I did there? I disposed of the 3 requirement with a parenthetical reference. Pure genius.

5. What are your three favorite possessions?
My computer - silly but true
My pearl necklace - I won't label whore but they're very nice and were a gift
My flute
My blanket that my grandmother gave to me made by my great-grandmother of my great-aunt's curtains. Got all that?
My silver ring from Tiffany's (I bought it for myself with my own money at the Tiffany's on 5th Ave after I graduated law school - it's very symbolic to me even though it's not the huge endeavor now that it was then)
I'm obviously ignoring the rules of this survey.

6. What three things can you not live without?
Diet coke
The internet
ghost shows on A&E

7. What would be your three wishes?
Jump out of a plane (doing it for my 30th bday this year)
spend time in Paris (hopefully going next year)
own a house in Hyde Park that I could afford (meaning I'd have more money, not that there would be a house that would be in my current budget)

8. What are three things you have not done yet?
Isn't this the same question as the one above?
jumped out of a plane
been to Paris
been to Turkey, Russia, Japan, Hawaii, and many, many other places

9. What are your three favorite dishes?
vietnamese spring rolls - good ones
unagi (eel) rolls - any kind will do as long as there are no sauces on it
my mom's mac 'n cheese - freaking amazing

10. What three celebrities would you want to hang out with the most?
Kathy Griffin
Lauren Graham
Jon Stewart

11. Name three things that freak you out.
snakes
cruise ships
plants that move towards the sun (like ivys and vines) *shudder*

12. If you could describe yourself in three words, what would they be?
sarcastic
disgruntled
genius

13. Name three unusual things you are good at.
counting things
playing the flute
thinking shit up

14. What are three things you are currently coveting?
a fabulous purse (i'm shallow, i'll admit it)
new bedstuffs
someone to buy me xm radio because i can't justify spending the $$$ on something that's supposed to be free - radio (but all the sports channels!! I never have to search for a game again!)

15. What three bloggers would you like tag?
I'm not sure who has already been tagged (besides Blondie and Rana and Lauren) so I'll go with:
Squishy over at BoredSquishy
CK at DisplacedUrbanite
and MaterialLust

A Little Texas Sports Love

I have three things to glow about today, at least with regards to Texas and her illustrious sports teams.

1) I was in Houston over the weekend and I had dinner at Yao's. (For those of you that don't know, Yao's is Yao Ming's family restaurant.) It was surprisingly good and very light on the sports decor. We sat in the bar area so we could watch the Astros game and it was a really nice evening. The bar area is not like most restaurant/bars. It was big, decorated well, had these comfy round booth things, loads of non-beer soaked tables, and at least when we were there, wasn't crowded with drunkies. The food was good too. I was pretty impressed with the whole thing, to be honest. I never expected it to be anything but a Chinese version of Dave and Buster's. But since we were in town and staying so close to the area where his restaurant was, we decided to check it out. I give it two chopsticks up.

2) I also attended to Astros vs. Cubs game Saturday night. It was the best game I've ever been to. I had the awesome seats (right below the press box, just behind homeplate) and the Astros pulled it out inning after inning. Wandy? You're alright, man. I won't discuss how the series ended - I was hoping for a sweep - but for one, brief moment in time I caught a glimpse of the team I've grown to love over the last few years. It was a nice endcap to my extraordinarily nice weekend.

3) I love T.O. I will say it proud(ly) and say it loud(ly). I love him. Remember that scene from Jerry McGuire when Renee Zellwegger's character is gushing to her sister about how much she loves Tom Cruise's character in the morning, post-sex? And he accidentally overhears her? That's me with T.O. I can't comment too much on his behavior with the Eagles because I didn't have the love that I have now. I do believe that the media loves to have a story and will make one up if they have to (not saying they did but it's the whole Barry Bonds = steroids phenomena - get over it already). To justify my love for the man (or the boy as he is in my head - aside: he reminds me of my nephew; can't say why or how but something about his face gets me right there, man), I present you with this article: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=alipour/080720. It's not sporty, so click on. Moral of the story: he's awesome.

He deserves a beautiful picture so I'm posting one for all to enjoy. Oh, and did I mention he's quite the snappy dresser? And funny? Dude's hilarious. Wearing the U.S. Postal Team outfit when he had to ride the exercise bike on the sidelines? Guffaw-worthy.

It was a very bad week...

I almost broke up with my boyfriend.

I almost disowned my parents and severed our relationship.

I almost crashed my car, potentially fatally, to collect the insurance money.

I almost got fired due to fits of hysteria and excessive mental absences.

I almost lost a limb.

I almost shed a tear several times.

But now it's over. And here is both the cause (partially) and the salvation of my bad, horrible, no-good week:

Hyundai Elantra - only mine's in black pearl (sparkly black to be exact)

It's nothing fancy but it's new and it's mine! And I put enough of a down payment down that my monthly budget will not be altered significantly. It has new car smell and I only slightly feel like I'm driving in a clown car, which, given that my previous vehicle felt something like a coffin (a fact I enjoyed immensely but apparently was not popular with the passengers), is no small feat.

I feel very sad about losing my old car. It was 8 years old and a gift from my dad for graduating college. It was an old school sports car, to say the very least, and I miss the way the engine would roar when I just slightly pushed the gas peddle. I also miss my beautiful dings and scratches that meant I could attempt to fit my car in any parking spot available (instead of searching for the farthest spot with no chance of door dings like I have to do now). I miss the rows of bumper stickers (all political) that I'd decided my car needed, what with the aforementioned dings and scratches. I miss the Care Bear (Good Luck Bear!) smelly thing that hung from the rearview mirror. I miss the longhorn sticker that looked at me every time I looked out the back window. I miss the way I could throw a napkin in the back seat and not worry about trashing my new car. I miss how none of the windows never got one, tiny crack in them even though rocks were always bouncing off of them. *tear*

I do not miss the driver's side window that would not roll down. I do not miss the way the gas gauge moved at will from E to F with no bearing to the amount of gas in the tank. I do not miss the way the speakers crackled if I turned up the volume just slightly. I do not miss the bruises I got on my arms (and the cuts on my hands) from trying to change the spark plug wireset, which I never managed to change. I do not miss the weird smell of mildew that seemed to take over when it rained, which wasn't a huge problem because it hardly rains here in Texas. I do not miss the huge dent on the passenger side door from when I accidentally ran into my apartment building. I don't miss the scratches on the driver's side door where G tried to scrape off ice even though I told him not to.

But you know, it's really the little things that make owning a non-crappy car nice. (My car was not originally crappy but after 8 years, although it hurts me to say it, it was pretty crappy.) I went to the drive through bank Friday and was so excited that I called my mom. We both cheered. It was a good feeling.

Oh and did I mention I made a kick ass deal for the new car? I did all my research and ended up paying about $400 over invoice price. I'll accept accolades, statues, and national holidays in my name, thank you.

I missed Bea Arthurs Birthday!

How could I? I'm such a bad fan. It was two days ago and over at thebestweekever.com they have her top 10 moments. In honor of her birthday and the upcoming SATC reunion, I thought I'd post this video: Bea's take on SATC. Although, to be accurate, Golden Girls was the original SATC so no remade needs to be made... but since it is:

The yin and the yang - I think.

So my bf has been out of town this week at a conference. He's been crazy busy trying to attend the conference and get his regular work done. He's a much better employee than I am. If I'm at a conference I don't even check voicemail and email. He also just found out he got this huge contract thing he's been working on, which is great. (I'm going to make him buy me a cute pill box with all his bonus $$$. It's too embarassing to carry around pill bottles and vitamin bottles, etc., but a pretty pill box is one of those discretionary things I can't bring myself to buy... for myself - I feel like I've got some pronouns wrong...) I told him we'd celebrate his big score this weekend when he gets home. He agreed and thought that sounded fab. (Boy words though.)

Our conversation last night:

Me: I've got our celebration on Friday night all planned out.
Him: Oh yeah?
Me: Yep. It's gonna be great.
Him: Uh-huh... (getting suspicious that I make him go to a fancy restaurant, I can tell)
Me: dramatic pause
Him: What is it already?
Me: I'm hanging out with my girlfriends.
Him: What? Why?
Me: Because I haven't seen them in awhile.
Him: So our celebration is...
Me: Yep, that's right. We'll celebrate by you being at home all by yourself.
Him: Omg, you're the best. Thanks so much.
Me: No problem.

This exact conversation is one of the reasons that I love and hate my bf, all at the same time. I'm sure you can see why. (Oh and he didn't actually say omg. He said the real words. And to be fair, he didn't actually say I was the best but it was something similar that I can't remember. I like my way and I'm repeating it so it gets to be my words.)

Axe Body Spray

My day was made yesterday about 4:00 p.m. by an Admin in my office. Why, you ask? Apparently she noticed a bad odor coming from the kitchen(esque) area in the hallway. She complained that it smelled like fish. Our boss offered to spray his "good-smelling stuff" to cover the odor. Into his office she went where he presented her with his secret against bad odors - Axe Body Spray. As he sprayed the little, black, aerosol can into the air she coughed and sputtered and excused herself to her office where I found her, a short while later and she relayed the story to me.

This same boss has certain, how shall I say?, odor issues himself. While I distinctly prefer to overwhelming smell of man/boy cologne to the underlying offensive... odors, I've always wondered how the man/boy cologne smell seemed to grow and get stronger at certain points during the day. Now I know. It's the repetitive use of Axe. Body. Spray.

So while the Admin was busy complaining of an oncoming migraine, I was happily skipping back to my office to make a phone call to an ex-coworker with whom I'd developed many alternative tricks for compensating for the above odor issues.

If you can't comprehend why this made my day, imagine all those "sexy" Axe commercials and then picture your own smell-challenged boss. If that doesn't produce a guffaw or two, your boss is not nearly as physically repulsive as mine.

Doomsday. The Movie.

If you've never heard of Doomsday, you're not alone. I saw it Sunday night with the boy and had never heard of it. At first I thought it was going to be yet another bad movie with only slightly superficial entertainment value. I'm here to say it: I. Was. Wrong. Doomsday is by far the most awesome horrible film I've ever seen. Quick synopsis: 1980s punk scene meets A Knight's Tale meets 28 Days Later.

This movie is so bad I'm not even sure it falls in the B movie category. But! It was so freaking awesome that everyone should see it - preferably with a drink or two in hand. The first point at which I suspected this might be more than just a bad movie came about 1/5 in when the main character came across a group of people who, for better or worse, were supposed to be so isolated that a) no one even knew if they were still alive and b) were cannibals. Well. They may have resorted to eating each other, but after 20 some odd years of being alone, they still managed to conserve the Manic Panic hairdye and eyeliner. That takes talent, my friend.

The second turning point for me (when I decided it was one of the most awesome movies I'd ever seen) was when the post-apopolypic punk fiends had a dance sequence. The dance sequence was one half punk, s&m type stuff and one half lord of the dance and kilts. Did I mention awesome?

Oh and I can't even talk about when the main characters met the other post-apopolypic group - the knights. That glory can't even be shared in the written word. If only Heath Ledger had dome this movie before he died, I would have been in heaven. (no pun intended)

Moral of this post: run, don't walk to see this movie. Take all your friends and your own "adult" refreshments and be prepared to be blown away by the awesome glory of the worst movie I've ever seen.

Oh and by the way, do movie critics not get when a movie is trying to be bad? Here's the best review I read. It pretty much sums up the entire experience, although it leaves out A Knight's Tale as a potential influence, which I think must be an oversight by the author.