I don't know, I kind of like it...

The girls at gofugyouself.com did not like this at all. And I think it would be better with a cute top instead of this dress. ...
But, for some inexplicable reason, I kind of like this outfit. I totally love the jeans and the shoes. And the yellow dress, in its own right and although perhaps not curve-flattering, is pretty darn cute.
J Lo Hew is pretty fab. I give her snaps.
The more I look at it, the more I covet those shoes, actually...

My, oh my...

Last night I saw one of the best WNTWs ev-ah, dah-ling!
This girl wore a tail. A furry purple ratty tail with a bell on it pinned to her backside. I think it may have actually been a doggie toy. She had done so for eight years.
In the beginning, she was skanky and gross, and turned out totally cute! I swear Stacy and Clinton are miracle workers. (She was one of those contributers who you really hope turns out cute because she had a cute personality, and she tried really hard to follow the rules [even though she sometimes missed, big time], unlike some of the pig-headed ones they have on there. I really wanted her to turn out cute, and when she did it was like a little hug from WNTW right to me! "Cher lives for a good make-over!" And, of course I liked that she didn't throw a fit when Nick wanted to cut off all her long hair. Y'all know I hate when people don't let him cut it. Her hair turned out really chic. Go, Nick!)
Plus, Clinton gave me one of my favorite new sayings (well, with some mo-mandated restrictions, of course):
"This was a fashion b****slap!"
Man, I love that man. He's the best thing since sliced bread.

Young@Heart

I saw this preview last night and I CANNOT wait to see this movie!!!

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day

I liked this movie. Although it was pretty shallow throughout, it was cute and ultimately tried to have a good message. If you can make it through the first 25 minutes of Amy Adam's over-done sighs and breaths (you'll know what I mean when you see it), it is pretty cute. I like Francis McDormand, of course, and was pleased to see her hair looking decent for the second half. Her hair is always wretched in every movie. But she is a good actress. Also, 'Bridget Jones'' best friend is in it... The little brit with a high voice. I always liked her. The guy Francis' character likes reminds me of 'Mr. Big.' Amy Adam's boyfriends are mostly revolting, although one is a nice piece of eye-candy, and is the best character in the film, Michael. But, I digress.
My fave quote by the Amy Adams character is roughly: "Whoever said I need a darn husband right this very minute, anyway?" Dang strait, sister.

The Net

I had a junk email in my in-box called "Are you sure your personal identity is safe?"
My personal identity? What other kind do I have?
Dumb.

Just for you, Jer!

Meet Miss Celine Dion:

Meet her leg hair:

Umm... apparently she went on stage like that. Huh. Aside from the fact that I'm still a bit peeved that she never has quite retired, as promised like 10 years ago, I think legs should be properly shorn before going on a stage with massive back-lighting. But, maybe that's just me. I have vanity issues.

I've got clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle with you

For lo these many moons, our downstairs neighbors ("punks!" or perhaps "wippersnappers!") have been eerily quiet...
A hush had fallen over their lier, we suspected death, or at least relocation. I has been a couple of months since their last real-live-movie-theater-experience, porch party, or all-night soire'. Alas, we spoke too soon.
So, all of a sudden, this week, they are not only alive and well but having nightly showings of what I can only assume is marathon of Jean Claude Van Damme action flicks at a decibel that we can feel in our feet. Boo! Boo! Maybe they are on spring break? Maybe they have returned from a long drug-run to, oh, I don't know, Wisconsin? Unlike the song, unfortunately they weren't "Gone 'Til November." (I don't actually think they are drug criminals, but thy certainly could used a nice haircut and shave, and maybe a spa-day.)
Add the movie guys below to the elephants above who also have knock-down-drag-out screaming fights with their girlfriends (I can understand every word, bucko), snore and/or vacuum at 3 a.m., and have a penchant for talking on a microphone into the wee hours (for no apparent reason, mind you, oh, and he also breathes heavily into the mic often); and we have quite a cast of creeps, jerks, and losers.
The mic guy is especially strange. Luckily for him, he lives above my sister. I guess I would understand if he were singing? But just talking? Into a microphone? And sometimes, it sounds like someone else is answering him (not on a mic), so what is it, some kind of power-trip? A "my voice is more important than yours" type of thing? ("Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.")
This actually reminds me of 'Karaoke Guy,' who used to live below me in SLC. He would start up, usually at a random hour of the night, 12, 3, 5 7 (seemingly usually on an odd-numbered hour). And he would sing bad 80's songs. No, not the good ones. No "Love Bites." No "Foolish Beat." No "Making Love Out of Nothing at All." No "Beat It." Really crappy songs, like "That's the Way, Uh-huh, Uh-huh, I like It."
I went down there a couple of times out of desperation, always in pj's, my hair looking like the lead singer of the Goo-Goo Dolls (yeah, remember them?), scared the guy into submission for a couple of weeks. 'Karaoke Guy,' you were terrible. You were slightly unhinged. You look completely normal compared to "Microphone Guy.'

A bowl full of jelly

Yesterday I was at the gym, and this trainer and I crossed paths. He smiled, asked how I was doing. I was fine. He asked if I was just starting or ending my workout, to which I replied, "I just did my cardio, and now I'm going to do my abs."
Ha.
"My abs."
Ha.
Doesn't it seem a bit pretentious for me to call them "my abs?" I mean, I couldn't have very well said, "I just finished my cardio and now I going to do my belly."
But isn't it kind of like the difference between saying "rims" and "hubcaps?"
'Cause I've got hubcaps, baby.

A letter

Dearest Wells Fargo,
Why must you insist on being such a very large pain in my a? What have I ever done to you? When I bring you my tax return, a cashier's check from a well-known company, why can't you cash it and we can all move on with our lives? (Oh, I am sure it is because it will probably bounce. Yes, HSBC and Jackson Hewitt are just so unreliable with their money, like a college freshman with a new credit card!)
Okay, so I don't have an extra two grand just sitting there waiting to back up this diabolically risky check, it's best you go ahead and hold onto my money for about five business days. Yes, we all feel so much better now.
Oh, and to the girl who suggested I "just deposit more money so your monthly average is higher" I say, "Oh why didn't I think of that! I'll just deposit more money! I'll just put more of this extra money (that doesn't exist) that I'm hoarding in my mattress into the bank! Brilliant! Why, you are a witchy woman!"
So, to my sweet bank and the love of my life, I say "go to hell!" I am sure your old-fashioned stagecoach can take you there quite swiftly.
Love,
Me

Wastin' time...

It was a particularly nice Easter, complete with a promise of a new job soon with my uncle's company, my sister stuffing a balloon in her dress so we could take hilarious preggy pictures, measuring David and Bob's noggins to see whose gigantic head reigned supreme (it's a tie), and an Easter miracle of avoiding a near-accident in a car driven by Georgia. And, of course, delicious food, and the probably-tragic decision that I could have a big-time cheat day (heck, weekend, starting with last night at Mi Cocina).









Last night I saw "Atonement" (which only tonight I realized was an appropriate, at least in name, choice for this weekend). I think I built up my expectations too much. I do think the production of it was fantastic. The use of light and sound was brilliant. Overall, it was gorgeous visually. And the score was really impressive. The acting was awesome. Gosh, that blonde girl was perfectly rigid. However, I don't know how I feel about the story. For some reason, romance makes me wretch lately. (What do you think that means? Is something wrong with me, or what? A girl who doesn't like romance?) Also, I have a problem with war in movies. But, I thought a certain death scene in water was amazing and I was appropriately disturbed by the red-head's prepubescent flirting and the consequences of it. I also was quite taken with the soldier who spoke french with Briony, his question "do you love me?", and the name "Briony" in general.
So, right now I'm procrastinating laundry, and the advent of Monday, which will be ushered in as soon as I go to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, I have a lot going on...

• taxes
• gym
• grocery store
• oil change
• work
• job search

And, I am sure, other things I have not thought of yet. Why is Monday so awful? I mean, does anyone else dread it like I do?
Oh, and can I just say that if you have not been to Paciugo's for gelato, you must go! I had a combo of mixed berry, lemon, and cantaloupe this weekend that was in-credible! It makes me feel less guilty than going to Cold Stone, with the same yummy goodness! Delicioso!

I have a theory (there's a surprise)...

That when your hair is long enough to be a problem when you are using the bathroom, it's too long. I really think the bra-strap is a good measure for longest length for long hair. Any longer than that is just plain cumbersome.
So, I'm not gonna sugar-coat the fact that when women with long, ew!, straggily, stringy, gross hair on WNTW won't let Nick cut it, I get infuriated. I just don't even want to watch the rest of the show, because they are going to turn out just as ugly, but with better clothes. Why are they so attached to their gross hair? Do they actually think it's pretty? This girl today called her gross hair "pretty," and was all, "it's who I am." No, lady, who you are is a delusional, confused person with bad hair. Your hair is your hair. It is not "who you are." I think you need a shrink. Oh, and she wouldn't wear the make-up Carmindy taught her, either, but that's a whole different soap-box and I haven't the energy to get all riled up about that right now. Believe me, she needed that make-up.
There's a reason you got nominated for that show, sister.

Project Runway, here we come!

Place: Cute (almost married) Kerry's bridal shower. Time: Last Saturday evening.
Faced with the prospect of making a dress with toilet paper as our raw material, Candice and I fabricated a near-perfect wedding gown that I think rivals even Christian and Rami's creations in creativity and beauty. See for yourself:The details! The construction! Technically immaculate! Love a good bow! And, those sleeves!

"I like your sleeves, they're real big."
"Thanks, I made them myself."

(These photos are proof that Lindsey would even look fabulous in a potato sack! Please disregard my blotchy sunburn and unflattering dress, which I promptly changed out of for the rest of the evening once I saw these pics.)

I fought the law and the law won.

So, tonight while I was driving from work to the gym (at like nine), a helicopter was circling the area above, shining down a searchlight. I gotta say, that doesn't inspire much confidence in me to get out of my car to walk into the gym, or put in gas later. It's not like I was in a rough part of town, but things like that just make me think they are searching for a fugitive. And one I doubt looks like Harrison Ford:
Probably a scraggly, unattractive fugitive. One I wouldn't want to help out. Or run off with.

Horrah for an extra day off!

Thank you, Easter. I love Easter.
First of all, what an amazing gift that Jesus Christ gave us! I am so happy to have this week to be extra-thankful for it, and to really think about it and His love for us.
And, not to add something trivial, but I also get an extra day off work, tomorrow, so I will have some time to do things in my life to feel closer to Him, to better myself and just feel good in general! That makes me smile!
Plus, don't you love the spring-time-feeling of Easter? The new dress (not that I'm getting one this year, Bob), the flowers blooming (well, in theory), the pastel colors everywhere? It's a great time for a "Maigen Renovation." It's like a spiritual New Year. I recommend looking at your actual "New Year's Resolutions" and seeing how you're doing and what you can do to re-align yourself with them. That's my plan, anyway.
Happy Easter! Here is one of my favorite pictures of the reason we have Easter, and my Savior:

Lost your way?

What did we ever do without Mapquest? I mean, really. I don't know how I ever found anything. In a couple of years, I am sure that is how I will feel about navigation systems. Although, as it keeps getting easier to find places, I have to wonder what kind of excuses I will be able to get away with for being late...

Know what's nice about Dallas?

There are hardly any butt-ugly Subarus driving around here. There's like a really obvious lack of them, actually. (Coming from a girl who always noticed Subarus because of her very great disdain of them while living in SLC.)
Yeah, I know, it's not snowy here. I think the lack of Subarus here plainly shows that the only reason to drive one is the snow and/or mountains. We do usually have a good yearly ice storm, but ain't nothin' gonna help you in that.
Also, going along with my theory that "Subarus are liberals' cars" also kind of works. We are a lot lower on liberals in this area of the country. And you know I'm a-okay with that (Still love you, Jana, Sydney, Michelle, et al)!
The last reason I think we don't have them here is the Dallas-centric obsession with looking good, no matter what. No Subarus. Very few granola people. A lot less hemp and a lot more platinum. I hardly ever smell petuli. Ahh! I love snobby, uptight, brand-wearing, no-Subaru-driving Dallas!

No Church for Single Men (a depressing post, don't read if you are already sad, and/or watched "The Savages" today)

If you are mo, and are my friend, and read my blog, you probably also have a blog that I read. I have noticed in my blog-reading a strange trend. In your lists of favorite blogs have you ever noticed that it almost always a long list of couples, with a few single girls' names thrown in there? Rarely do you see a single mormon guy's name in the mix. This leads me to believe that either a) even less guys were literate than I previously believed b) they are literate, but are not predisposed to writing, or c) there are way more single mormon girls than guys, especially once you hit 25. This is not some big shock, but it's weird to see it on paper, ahem, computer screen.
I know this is the case, my years of attending singles' wards have certainly proven that. I was in one particular "Gave Up" ward that had 140 regularly attending women and 12, count 'em, 12 guys. I lasted there all of oh, two months. (Yeah, yeah, guys aren't the reason to go to church, but aren't we supposed to be at least attempting to meet someone to possibly, in some future time far, far away, marry?)
Teri, I know what you mean (although, somehow more poignantly than you do) when you say: "where have all the men gone?" http://terithinks.blogspot.com/2008/03/where-have-all-men-gone.html Luckily, you aren't single, girl. Get ready for the sad (though scientifically unprovable) truth.
The other night I did a demonstration for my friend David, consisting of a large handful of imaginary microscopic men (representing single mo men in Dallas, TX-- or any city, really), and as I eliminated them in droves according to some pre-set (and not even very specific) standards, my handful shrank and shrank down until I figured I could just about count on one hand the guys in my specific ward who *seem* to be datable for a girl who just can't seem to settle (ie: me). (Oh, and then comes the elimination round in which they decide they don't want me, but that's a whole different post. Heck, that's a book.)
Kind of like the test Lisa Kudrow's character did on "P.S. I Love You." Here were my qualifications:
(Oh, and first of all, you have to eliminate 99.8% of men in the population who aren't even mormon, at least for this test. Then, half of them don't come to church. Leaving .1% of the population... Rough estimate. Yeah, there is absolutely no scientific backing for that number, I'm just guessing. I'm probably being pretty liberal, actually.) Oh, and some of these can be shuffled a bit, this is just the order I came up with.

1. Are they single? Let's say about 10% of men of marriageable age are single in the church. Once again, liberal (speaking of liberal, be on the look-out for my up-coming Subaru post). So, that's .01%.
   
2. Are they not dating for a reason? Here's hoping that 60% of those single guys are not crazy. Not socially inept to the point of non-communication. Not so committed to their mother that they can never love another. Not fighting polite public levels of decent hygiene. Not secretly or openly addicted to anything less-than-desirable. Not gay (and I love my gay fellas, so don't take that wrong) and therefore are indeed attracted to the women that they are dating. Not running from the law. Not secretly married. Not frequenting strip-joints and dating hookers. =.006%
   
3. Do they have the ability and/or potential to earn an income? I can't speak for all women, but I hope the men I date have the potential to someday support a family. I just do. I'd put that at 50%. So, now I'm at .003%
4. Are they attractive? Everybody is attracted (and attractive) to different people, thank goodness, but I'd say about 5% of the guys that have made it this far would be attractive to whoever this is applying to. That makes my number .00015%
5. Does the personality click? I was going to say "do they have a good personality," or "not obnoxious, unintelligent, no personality, etc" but this is also different for everybody... Let's say you find a guy who hits all those other things on the mark (it's been known to happen) but he either has a bad personality, or say it's even fabulous, but you just don't click. Boo. 5% of people might. Roughly. Generously. I mean "best friends" click. I'm talking about: you have more fun with this person than anyone. The new percentage, and I mean ouch: .000008%

That's what you're working with, girls, on a grotesquely liberal, rough scale: .000008%. How does anyone ever meet anyone? Because on top of my very basic list, you'll throw in things like: "he must have gone on a mission, no matter what," "he must, must be at least 6' tall," "he must play the clarinet," and "he must be a romantic." (And we all have that crazy little list in our heads). Just where're you gonna find that guy?
And don't even get me started about the "Mormon Scale of Attractiveness:"
http://smashgfunk.blogspot.com/2005/10/mormon-scale-of-attractiveness.html
but definitely check it out. I laughed, hard.

I am SO delighted!!

So, the fug girls are having "Fug Madness," coinciding with March Madness. Basically, they are bracket-ing up the worst dressed celebs (and not-so celeb, but somehow photographed a lots) and having a tourney! Genius. Genius. I must give them snaps, and also admit, I COVET that idea!
Check it out:
Fug Madness
So far, they only have three of the four brackets up. I can only assume (and pray) that Chloe Sevigny is tops on the fourth bracket.
Perhaps this tourney will put to rest my suspicion that Mischa Barton, Chloey Sevigny, Kate Moss, and Sienna Miller are all, in fact, the same person (aren't they?):

Yeow!

My retinas are burning.
Look, Raven, you may have been darling as cute little Olivia on "The Cosby Show," but can you just go away now? If for no other reason than to dig a hole to hide out in for a few years to live this down. If that is possible.
Which it's not.

Photo from gofugyourself.com which I love.

Life

Do the vending machines at your work constantly eat peoples' money and then not dispense food? The other day, I was hungry. I wanted something salty, or at least crunchy. I decided on SunChips, since they are a (still unhealthy) healthier version of chips.
When your SunChips actually drop from the vending machine, isn't it always like it's a little miracle? Like you've been chosen.

And here's a little non-miracle: It's like someone has put a hex on the left side of my face. I have broken out, just on the left chin/lower cheek area. It's like I have a pox.

Last night I had a dream that well, after someone was trying to murder me, I laid down and took a nap. I dreampt about taking a nap. That's how tired I've been since Daylight Saving Time.

And, from my friend Melanie's blog http://hiccupmel.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-just-flabbergasted.html:

... an article she found on CNN today.

The story highlights for the article state:

• 35-year-old woman's skin had grown around the lid of the toilet, police say
  
• Official: Toilet seat had to be pried off her body, seat went with her to hospital
  
• Boyfriend claims he bought food, water to girlfriend who refused to leave bathroom
  
• Police found woman with pants at mid-thigh, disoriented, legs atrophied

To read the article in it's entirety, click here.

Not only is it very sad...but, I am in shock that this type of thing could happen and no one else would know about it!!!!"

I don't think that link works, by the way, so you'll have to go to her blog if you want to read the article. Frankly, the highlights made me throw up a little.
Anywho, to that post, I had to say (I know, it's terrible): "Umm... THIS lady has a boyfriend, and I'M single*?!" I know, I'm insensitive. But, I mean, really? A toilet seat attached to her A and she has a "boyfriend?" I know I can be obnoxious, and I need to lose a few fluffy pounds, oh, yeah, and I have a face hex, but a TOILET SEAT, people!

*My standard disclaimer: I am okay being single. People, I like it. Sure, I'd like to meet the right guy, but this is meant to be funny, not desperate.

So, umm... sorry about that McDonald's post...

Somehow it posted the video several days later. Huh?
So sorry if your delicate sensibilities were offended by the triple-threat triple-post forced upon you by a strange youtube malfunction, and my insatiable desire to post that video in the first place.
Mea culpa.

McDonald's, ick! Right?

But check this out... I just saw this commercial again the other day and I LOVE it! This kid rocks! My favorite part is his face when they zoom in when the song say "how low can you go?" Priceless!

Listen TO THIS...

So, today at work, I was just minding my business, talking to this customer, when somehow this huge dust-bunny, or ball of lint flying in the air suddenly landed on my tongue.
No joke.
I was like: spasm, grab at unidentifiable feeling on my tongue, pull out dust bunny, spasm, gross out, try frantically to remove all parts of said bunny, wipe tongue several times with kleenex, decide whether to throw up, explain to lady that I am extremely germaphobic.
Good thing I'm not Dolores Claiborne. For any of you who have read that book.
I mean, what are the chances that a) a dust bunny takes flight in the first place, b) I am talking and standing in that particular spot at the exact moment it flies by, and c) it somehow breaches the 2-inch space that is my mouth?
Oh, the humanity.

More movies...

So, it may sound like lately I am just sitting around watching movies, but I will have you know that:

1. I have lost 7 pounds... That's right folks, at some point I will be thin (or at least my version of thin, which is still pretty darn cute) and my ego-mania will be a lot more justifiable.
2. I have penned 18 new, particularly dark pages in my soon-to-take-over-the-world-like-caveman-commercials- or-the-advent-of-crocs novel.
3. I have also been busy kicking butt beating global averages by a lot on Excel, Powerpoint, and Word tests for a head-hunter. Did I mention I just learned how to use Excel and Powerpoint last night, literally? (Yeah, for some reason, never really had to use those in college...) I have a suspicion I might just be a Microsoft-suite genius.
4. I have been napping. To recover from Daylight Saving Time. You too, no?
5. Also, I have been watching movies...

So, at first, I though this was going to be a political rant disguised as a movie, and it may have actually turned out to be that, but luckily its spin spun in a direction I agree with. I have a really hard time with torture, even of suspected terrorists. I know, it can be the only way to make someone talk, but I cannot handle it.
This film was really well done, though. It was touching, desperate, horrifying, and really brought in a human aspect to everything. I also thought the twist, if you can call it that, at the end was amazing. I have thought about it for days, and am still realizing new things. To me, a movie is truly an accomplishment if it makes me think for days. Gosh, can you believe I saw this? Me, neither. My friend convinced me to watch it with the bait, "hey, it will give you something to blog about." Man, I'm predictable...
Anyway, so, considering that I had zero expectations (aside from an overwhelming suspicion that I would hate it with all the fiery passions of my heart) it wasn't too bad. David pointed out that they used some cool names for things (for a boat: vessel "that flies on water," etc.) That was true, and there were a few lovely descriptions. So, from a literary standpoint, some of the writing was good.
Now, another friend who saw it complained that in the beginning, a prophesy of what is going to happen is given, and then you just have to sit through watching a movie in which you already know what is going to happen. I won't tell you if the prophesy if fulfilled, but I will say that that is what it feels like as you are watching.
And although it looked like it may be reminiscent of "300," which I love, there are not many loin-cloth-wearing, amazing-abs-bearing Spartans in this one.
Also, some of the tribesmen had exceptionally good teeth for having lived in a desert eating raw antelopes their whole lives with no Oral-B in sight. I also took issue with a certain tribe's facial ornaments, which were like pieces of bone jabbing into their chins. As I told David, I would have opted for a standard goatee. Soul-patch. Whatev.

Once again: I really don't like chick flicks, but...

I kind of loved "P.S I love You." It was sad and sweet and generally fabulous! I loved the story, the actors, the clothes... And of course, Ireland!So, also you get to look at the gorgeous *Jeffrey Dean Morgan*. Gosh, I always thought he was adorable on Gray's Anatomy, but now I realize he's like the next GEC. Oh, man. Take a look:
Not enough for you? Me, neither:
My heartbeat actually just sped up.

Another thing that I loved (and was so funny) was Lisa Kudrow's test (to find a man to date). Basically, she would give a man a compliment, introduce herself, and give a four-part test, each question's answer determining if they would make it to the next question:
1) Are you single? (no: they're done, yes: proceed to question #2)
2) Are you gay? (yes: bye-bye, no: proceed)
3) Are you working? (no: they're out, yes: continue onto 4)
4) She'd kiss them (her reactions were priceless, but they could immediately tell if they were 'in or out!')

P.S. I love Hillary Swank's outfit in this scene:
Unfortunately, you can't really see it in this picture, but if you saw the movie, you know what I mean. And, you will probably be seeing something like it on me in the near future...

One last thing, Hillary Swank's character started taking shoe-making classes, which inspired me. If they really have those, I need to find one! Talk about the perfect idea!!! I want to design shoes! This means that all the 'shopping dreams' I've had might not all be for naught!
(I have dreams a lot that I am shopping, find perfect items, wake up, and am depressed they do not really exist... I usually draw them, so I can remember these fabulous fashion anomalies. Maybe someday I will have them, after all!)

This is what it's like out there, people...

An email I received from my hilarious b.f.f., Krissy:

"DATING STORIES FROM A 29 YEAR OLD SINGLE MORMON GIRL!

In the last year or so my family has become a little desperate for me to get married. I have decided that if anyone wants to set me up on a blind date, I would say yes. This pleases the family and provides me with free dinners. Seems like a win win situation, right? WRONG! As I have entered this blind dating world, I've discovered that people don't know me at all. And just because I'm older, this does NOT mean I am desperate!

Here is a perfect example; A girl from work wants to set me up with her husbands friend. Well the rule is I say yes, so I did. We decide to double so its not super awkward. We all meet for dinner at a place called MacCools. As I walk in I see my date, blond faux-hawk hair and a goatee with a pornstar mustache. He's dressed alright but I'm stressed out already. So we're introduced and immediately after he begins to tell me that he is a kung fu master. The more he talks I realized I am on a date with a 'Dungeons and Dragons' nerd!

Now the rule of the date was dinner only, nothing after. So I make it through dinner after many discussions about computer games and how to advance to the next portal, and what happened in this room and which switch did you turn on, etc! I think I am home free, but no, I am cornered into going back to their place for brownies. Well since I car-pooled with the married couple, I feel I need to go with my date so he doesn't ride alone. As he opens the car door for me he says 'Don't mind my weapons.' In the front seat is a sword plus those long stick things they swing around and even more weapons are in the back. He later tells me (as I am seated next to the sword) he usually only has one weapon in the car at a time. But tonight he had his whole arsenal in the car. I am on a date with a guy who owns a sword!!

We eat brownies and talk more of different dimensions that can be achieved, with many awkward pauses in between. So I decide to tell them a funny story to get them laughing, then make my escape. My date walks me out and I tell him thanks you and give him a hug. Then I say 'Well, see you around.' But he doesn't get the hint and says 'Really! Well what kind of music are you into?' And proceeded to ask me out for the next weekend. I don't know how to get out of it, so yeah, I say maybe. Then he goes to give me a side hug and then I realize he's going in for a kiss! EEEW!! I dodge, then say goodnight and run!

This could be one of the most memorable dates I've been on, but not for good reasons. But who can say they have been out with a kung fu master with a sword, I can!"

Wow, poor Kris! I feel you, girl! I think we've all had our fair share of freaks and geeks by now, but this one really is up there! No wonder we're still single!
Oh, and be ready for me to start saying "don't mind my weapons" on a regular basis! That is totally going in the rotation!

The theater, the theater...

I can't wait to see:





























Never in a million years:

Chloe Sevigny strikes again

gofugyourself.com had some pretty funny things to say about Chloe Sevigny's new line. What I have to say is this: just because someone is an actor, or is famous for unknown reasons does not a fashion designer make. Even if they are considered fashion-forward dressers. I am sick of all the celebrity lines out there. There, I said it. Leave designing to people who went to design school, and/or won Project Runway (LOVED Christian's line, btw! Also quite taken by Rami's...)
Librarian on crack? Or "Footloose" cast member wandered off the set and fallen through a worm hole to 2008? You decide.
To see what the evil/brilliant fug girls have to say, go here:
http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2008/03/all-of-yesterda.html#more

A blog of numbers

I have lost *six* pounds! Yay!
Last night, I wrote *eight* new pages in my book! (That's a lot!)
Also, last night, I inflicted much pain and suffering on myself, and plucked my much-overgrown eyebrows. I hate that! To make this fit in with the other stats, on a scale of one to ten (one being the least and ten being the most), I hate plucking my eyebrows a *nine*, not as much as throwing up, but more than driving.

I'm awake

I should be tired. But I am awake. And that means I feel the need to waste time. Sure, I could do something productive. But I won't. I know me. It's too late at night to be productive.
Above my computer, I have this framed birthday card from my mom. The cover is this cute little girl, and it says "Golly Fairy Godmother..."
Here are the guts:

When I grow up, all I want is a handsome husband,
two beautiful children (a boy and a girl)
and a nice house with pretty flowers
and a picket fence.
And maybe a nice car to drive - a Mercedes.
Some expensive jewelry and a fur coat, too.
How about a summer home on the lake?
And I don't want to work. Ever!
I'll need a maid. Yes, a maid.
Forget about cooking and cleaning,
and changing diapers.
I want to go th Paris, Florence, and Cannes.
Alone!
Without those two little brats. Or him.
Just me and lots of money and men and
yachts and diamonds...

Anyway. I love that. How hilarious! How fabulous! And frankly, how me.
Don't get scared now.

So popular! I ought to be dating the quarterback!

Just kidding, but today I had a major all-time record of 79 page loads! And like, 45 visitors. (Sam, sorry I am copying your idea here.) So, thanks for reading!
I got that little stat-counter thing and I love it. I am glad to know that sometimes, all this isn't just floating out into the void, never to be seen or heard from again.
Oh, and one more thing. Why is it that even a minute amount of red onions in your food makes you have bad breath for days? I had two little circles on my lox and bagel today, and even after a rigorous brushing, including mouthwash, floss and a tongue-scraper, I still feel, well, not kissable? Guarantee you after I brush tonight, I will still not be satisfied. Perhaps I just have an extremely high standard of hygiene (well, no surprise there, I shower up to 4 times a day). Or maybe I am just super-susceptible to red onions. If everyone else felt this way, certainly there would be no market for them? I hereby announce my boycott of red onions. Forever.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

So, yesterday I bid 'adieu' to winter with a springy sun-dress and cardi in the quite fabulous colors of spring, kelly green and coral. I had decided to "bring the spring," although truly I had not had enough winter yet.
I scarcely had even opened my trunk of winter clothes, and that is not acceptable. A few particularly cute sweaters, skirts, and wool trousers have been sadly cowering away since last winter, with little or no hope for a promenade this year. Only thrice have I had occasion to don a sweater of heftier weave than a merino wool blend.
Ahhh, yes, but this is Texas! And March 3rd brings, no, not spring, as one would have predicted, but a blizzard. (A blizzard by a Texan's account, of course. But, nonetheless, it is snowing like crazy right this very minute. It will not stick, no, surely not. But, the grass and roofs are fluffy with snow.)
So, you global warming enthusiasts, what do you have to say for yourselves now? Oh, and by the way, although I doubt I will say "I told you so" at its manifestation (I will be too busy being sad or high-tailing it to Switzerland or Costa Rica), I am afraid that with any of the current presidential hopefuls (and especially the dems) we shall certainly end up in a socialist country, or blown up by terrorists, or both. Umm... I didn't sign up for that, man.
The end.

West Village

David and I had fun last night in West Village, critiquing fashion choices (mostly on my side... Nah, sorry, D, it was both of us) while walking around enjoying the perfect weather. We decided to do some people-watching, and I find that whole young-singles-bar-scene so peculiar. The girls were actually wearing dresses. Out on the town on a Saturday night in a dress. Way weird. I love wearing dresses, but rarely have occasion to wear one out, excepting a few parties to which I have worn them, or perhaps a nice restaurant to two. It's like I'm disconnected from my whole generation. Aside from the other mos. It's just so odd to meet someone in a bar. Certainly you can't have much hope for a real future. I am sure the girls, well, more than the guys, are actually looking for love. Then the guys use that to get some lovin', and on and on like that for years. It just seems hopeless and sad. (Admittedly, my own methods haven't worked out so well yet, either...) I guess I can sum it up with 'single = oh crap!' (Not that I don't like being single, I just don't know how anyone ever actually finds anyone. It's like a needle in a haystack out there, people, and most of the hay is not even date-able.)
We stopped for gelato (yum! Pina colada gelato rocks!) and sat at a little table outside next to a bunch of SMU freshmen girls. I tried Pellegrino water for the first time (which I injured my hand trying to open, by the way. Yeah, needed a bottle opener). We were sharing this bottle of it, and I wish so bad that I had my camera to take pics after each sip we took. It was always a version of a totally disgusted face, yet for some reason, we both seemed surprised each time we took a drink. Oh, and for some indiscernible reason we both kept taking drinks.
That stuff is not the bomb.
Oh, and we saw some sweet cars... A couple of Bentleys, and one David said was a Maybach, but I disagreed. Hey, it was nice, whatever it was.
The last thing that is notable is that David never has to move out of anyone's way when walking down the sidewalk. Apparently people always yield to him. I guess it's because he's "big and always looks angry." How cool would that be? The only drawback is everyone wants to try and fight him (for the same reasons.) How weird would it be to be a dude?

Chunk

There was a really cute, fat, big-eyed blonde baby flirting with all the girls at church today. He was all smiley. And although I am sure he didn't enjoy them, I was enjoying his case of the baby hiccups immensely. I love it when babies have the hiccups!