And to all a good night...

Every year, I write a Christmas Eve blog. This year is no different. Tonight, my parents and I enjoyed a feast of fried rice and garlic chicken at our favorite restaurant--Empress of China--conveniently located on Dort Highway. Nothing says Christmas like burying your face in a juicy, fat-covered Chinese rib and wiping your greasy fingers on a festive red cloth napkin. After all (like most people in the world do) when you say Christmas, I think: "Chinese ribs."

I wish I could say I'm overwhelmed by a Christmassy feeling. But truthfully, after I finished my Chinese rib, all my holiday cheer fell away like, well...like meat off of a juicy slow-cooked rib. Tonight just feels like another harsh and unforgiving winter evening, with no promise of gifts tomorrow morning or Hot Toddys tomorrow afternoon. Even the thought of spraying whipped cream into my mouth doesn't put me in a holiday mood.

After returning home, as we walked across the slick pavement of the parking lot toward our loft apartment, my dad noticed the makeshift Santa house that the Chamber of Commerce sets up downtown every year and that kids line up outside of in the days leading up to Christmas, eagerly awaiting their turn to tell Santa that they want a tutu or a bubble-gum dispenser or one of those learn-it-at-home Rosetta Stone language kits and said: "What if we blew up Santa's house tonight? Or burned it down?"

I probably should have been horrified, but all I could think was: I'd like to see that. Yes, I would like very much to set fire to Santa's little red house tonight.

But alas, we don't have the supplies or the know-how. So I guess it'll be another mundane Christmas this year. And the best part (the ribs) is already over.

Maybe God does love me...

So: it turns out I will be getting more Netflix discs before Christmas! Oh! What did I ever do to deserve such an embarrassment of riches?

That's A Fact

I know it makes me look really lame to post twice in one day, but guess what? I am lame.

Technically, it is tomorrow, anyway.

Sometimes when I am reading, I'll start to feel tired, so I'll think, "Ok, this is a good time to turn out the light and go to sleep." So I do...and then I am immediately not tired anymore and my mind keeps turning and turning, and I think of everything I've ever done wrong in my entire life. Then, to soothe myself I watch True Life: I'm Getting Out of Prison.

Dead Inside

It has been a long, long time since my last post, and for that I am very sorry. I know there are at least six people who read this, and I hate to disappoint. So, why has it been so long since I last posted, you may be wondering? Well, pretty much, things just got very hectic with nursing school. (I like to say that I'm in nursing school, when really I haven't been accepted yet and am just doing pre-requisites in hopes of getting accepted). This was the first semester since I graduated from Columbia College in 2005 (at least I think that's the year I graduated) that I took a "full-load" of credits. I took 12 credits, which by normal standards really isn't that much, but...those twelve credits kicked my ass. Mostly, it was Anatomy/Physiology that was the most time-consuming and difficult. My teacher was tough and made us really delve into every system of the body, down to the most delicate and minute details. I'm sure someday I'll be thankful for her demandingness, but right now I'm just thankful I'm done. I no longer have to get up at 6 am and drive an hour to listen to a lecture on pus (complete with power-point slides!)

Another reason I haven't been blogging lately: I fear that I am dead inside. Winter is depressing. Every time I go outside and see that we have another foot of snow on the ground or get pummeled by winds so forceful and icy they make me wish I was dead all over (not just on the inside), I want to go back into my little apartment (which sometimes reminds me of the cave where Milo the cat, of "Milo and Otis" fame spends a harsh winter with his brood) and sleep until spring. I want to run on the trails, but they are covered in ice. I want to visit friends, but the roads are crappy. I want to watch ER, but Netflix is slow as fuck (lately)! Dead inside.

The one bright spot in my life: DEXTER. I have probably said this before, and if you're a regular reader of this blog you've probably noticed my little shrine to Dexter, but Dexter is the best show on Television...possibly the best show in the history of television. If you don't like blood and gore, I don't care. You still need to watch Dexter. If you don't believe in capital punishment, I don't care. You still need to watch Dexter. If you don't think Michael C. Hall (as Dexter) is the sexiest, most badass, slyest, cleverest man-hunk on TV (or planet Earth), you are crazy. Because he is. Michael C. Hall is a FANTASTIC actor. Every other actor on TV or in theater or movies pales in comparison to the superbness that is Michael C. Hall. If he doesn't win the Golden Globe this year, he will have been robbed. Yet again. If you've never seen Dexter, you've got a hell of a ride ahead of you...and I'm jealous. WATCH IT.

Where Jim goes, I shall follow.

To the writers and producers of Ghost Whisperer:

(*Spoiler Alert!*) I had bad dreams last night because of you, and I was in a foul mood this morning because of you. How DARE you kill off Jim! How DARE you. Jim is adorable and lovable and he and Melinda actually have a good relationship. Make that HAD a good relationship. You had better know what you're up to, CBS, because you've pissed off a lot of people. By the way, detectives don't just blindly shoot at people they can't even see! Ridiculous! Here's hoping you've got some kind of miracle up your sleeve, because if not, you've lost another long time viewer.

Sincerely,

Jim's Homegirl

Ghouls

Halloween is coming up, so here are some scary movies to watch out for:

The Uninvited

I like her and all, but Elizabeth Banks is in EVERYTHING. David Strathairn is my best friend, though. AND, we've got a GG alum in this flick (Gilmore Girls, for those of you reading this who aren't Kate)--Arielle Kebbel, aka "Lindsay" the girl who married Dean after Rory dumped him for Jess...and who Dean later divorced after having cheated on her with Rory.

Friday the 13th

Finally, a remake of this! Let's hope it's good. Jared Padelecki as the main star in this makes me a bit nervous. I mean, I love you Dean, but the last horror movie you did was House of Wax. Friday the 13th is beloved, so let's not mess it up!

The Haunting in Connecticut

This horror movie has it all--the unassuming "innocent" family who "doesn't deserve this," a fridge full of rotten food, scary birds, a hatchet, ghosts, seances (what do you MEAN they had SEANCES in this house?! We're MOVING!), girls getting caught in the shower curtain, and Elias Koteas. What more could we want?

Rumors

Something that I have learned about people: they like to say things.

It doesn't matter if what they're saying is correct, just so long as they get a chance to say it.

The accelerated 2nd degree BSN (bachelor of science, nursing) program that I am attempting to get into is very competitive. They only let in 50 kids per semester. And, it is merit-based, meaning that if you finish the prerequisite classes, but only with the bare minimum GPA that you need in order to be eligible for acceptance, you are not guaranteed a spot in the program. This makes kids very cutthroat. It also makes them say things. For example:

"I heard they've already filled the year 2009, and now they're admitting kids to Fall of 2010."

"Well I heard they've already filled 2010, and now they're admitting for 2011."

"I heard you get in right away if you're double-jointed."

"I heard they only admit vegetarians."

These rumors extend way beyond just the likelihood of getting into the accelerated BSN program. People also like to say things about our teachers and the classes we're required to take. For example:

"I know for a fact that she puts trick questions on the tests."

"I heard he grades his tests at the bar."

"I heard you only get an A if you go to office hours every day."

"Well I heard only redheads get As, and then only if they know how to ride a unicycle."

Today in Chemistry, the shit hit the fan. Turns out there was some kind of technical malfunction that happened when our scantrons from the first exam were fed into the machine. The answer key was incorrect or something. So, kids ended up getting lower grades than they should've. We knew how many questions we'd gotten wrong, because our teacher had gone over the answers with us in class prior to feeding our scantrons in the machine. SO, when the scantrons came back all messed up, our teacher said he'd figured out a way to ensure everyone got the scored they deserved (if not an even better score than they deserved). He would add 10 points to each person's score, since 3 questions were off on the answer key given to the scantron machine (the scantron machine had different answers than the correct answers for those 3 questions, so everyone who actually answered them correctly got them wrong). So if you got 100% it would say on your scantron that you got a 91% (33 questions on the test, 3 pts per question, and 1 bonus point). BUT, some overachiever girl raised her hand and complained that "people who had actually gotten 91% originally would now have 100% with the added 10 points," and she "didn't think that was fair." Her 100% would be in-tact, but she didn't like the fact that maybe people who had legitimately answered incorrectly one or all of the 3 questions "in question" were now getting a free ride. The teacher told her to be nice and get over it.

BUT, rumor has it:

"Now he's not giving anyone those 10 points, because of that one girl!"

"He's just going to throw out the first exam entirely and our grades will be averaged from the next 3 exams!"

"He's just counting those 3 problems as wrong, even if you got them right."

Ugh. I can hardly stand it. I should've had a 98% on the test. I only got one wrong. But if I have to take a 90 or 91% at this point, I will. Hey, an A is an A. I can't help but think a lot of these problems could be avoided if people would just resist the urge to "say things."

Creepy Fingers

I am ashamed of myself. I can't believe it's been so long since I last posted. I'm about to cry. But maybe I'm just feeling melancholy because I'm listening to instrumental folk music on Pandora right now. I can't think well enough to put my thoughts into sentences, so I'm just going to make a list:

1. The new Dane Cook movie is good. I don't care if you don't like him. He's special, and this is my blog and I can say what I want. And I love him.

2. Ricky Gervais is my hero. His new movie Ghost Town is a gem.

3. Beverly Hills Chihuahua comes out this weekend! Lets just be thankful that in these trying economic times we have a movie about talking dogs to go blow 10 or 20 bucks on.

4. I would rather eat vulture vomit than watch Beverly Hills Chihuahua

5. But that is a funny title. You can use it from now on when you're trying to describe the worst night ever, as in: "He made me eat sauerkraut and then we watched Beverly Hills Chihuahua."

6. I just sneezed twice. If you'd seen Ghost Town, you'd get it.

7. I taught myself how to knit, but now I am struggling with the notion that it is an "old person's hobby."

8. If you're not watching the New Adventure's of Old Christine, you should be.

9. If you're not listening to the This American Life or the Creative Screenwriting Magazine podcast, you should be.

10. I desperately want to go to Scotland...or Ireland....or somewhere with "land" in the title. Because when you end a word with "land," it automatically sounds magical...like a place where I might be able to meet a half-man-half-fawn, like Mr. Tumnus. Don't you think Americaland sounds better than America? In America we've got high gas prices and school shootings. But in Americaland, we have princesses and horses with rainbow manes and sidewalks made of marshmallow peeps.

11. Christmas is coming.

12. When someone fast-forwards too fast (or too slow), they've got "creepy fingers"

This happens to me all the time.

I'm minding my own business, happily going about my day, and hoping for the best. I drive to my favorite gas station, the one I always stop at on the way home from school. It's a Meijer gas station--well-lit and big enough that I don't feel like I'm on display. Their candy isn't stale (stale candy is the worst!) and they don't have too much merchandise, so that it's overflowing and falling into the aisles. I hate that. And they're always getting new things, like Bagelfuls. I never buy the Bagelfuls, but I like that this particular Meijer gas station moves with the times. As a rule, I try not to use the bathroom, but today I had to. It's a nice, private single bathroom with a working lock that is usually very clean and airy. I went to open the door...LOCKED. God damn it, someone's in there!! Why the FUCK does this always happen to ME?! That's what I was thinking. Then I said to myself (in my head), "Calm down, Liz. It's probably just some very well put-together soccer mom who is reapplying her lip-gloss and will be out in a hop, skip, and a jump." Do that in your CAR you ignorant BITCH! I shook off all my angry feelings and busied myself looking at the road maps of Michigan. It's funny how if you look at something like that long enough, you'll start to think, you know, I really need a Michigan road map. I can't believe I've gotten along all these years without a Michigan road map. I've been looking at the road maps for quite some time and I start to think, what the hell is going on in there? I think, any minute now I'll hear the toilet flush. And I did start to hear noises, but not good noises. Whoever was in there must have been attempting to rip the toilet out of the floor while hacking up a lung, spitting, burping, yawning and slamming a fist onto the paper towel dispenser. After I finally heard the toilet flush, a behemoth man-beast emerged from the bathroom, clad in a stretched-out gray tank top and tight fitting black jeans and a skull cap. He smiled at me. One tooth.

Gravel--bane of my existence!!

Today I saw "Hamlet 2." It was very good. I recommend it to all of you who read this. That means you, Kate. It's a funny delight. After watching Hamlet 2, I went with my parents to Sam's Club and was dismayed by the lack of free samples of mini quiche there. Usually, weekends at Sam's Club mean a veritable feast of freebies. We went to Sam's Club because I've been thinking about purchasing a new iPod. Sam's Club often has good deals on electronics, and my parents are members. I bought my TV at Sam's Club. Kate can attest to the fact that it is awesome. My TV is the kind of TV that you really want to watch your shows on. And I love shows. While we were looking at the iPods, my dad starting ranting about how technology is "ruining" society and how he hates cell phones, but refuses to pay for a land line. Earlier in the day, he lamented that gas pumps "these days" are "so hard to figure out." I thought to myself that when he says things like this, he sounds like an old man. It's not fun when you have a moment where you see your parents as the elderly folk they're sure to become one day. Later, we went to Courtland Center mall, where my dad was dismayed by the fact that all the restaurants in the food court except for Sbarro's and a pretzel stand had closed. He said the guy at the pretzel stand claimed to be able to make hamburgers, but my dad didn't see how that was possibly since the only thing behind the counter was a conveyor toaster. I don't know about you, but some of the best burgers I've ever had came off a conveyor toaster. We walked around the Steve and Barry's superstore and my dad complained that he "doesn't look good in horizontal stripes." Then we went to JC Penny's, where I was super-excited to show my mom the new Sephora that's built right into it. My dad moped and said he "liked it better when it was Mervyn's." He'd look forlornly at a silk tie display and say, "This used to be the cuff link section when it was Mervyn's." After that, we drove to Davison for a fish dinner. Supposedly I got melted butter with my baked scallops...but only if your definition of melted butter is "chicken broth." I also got some high-school cafeteria style mashed potatoes and gravy, which I could barely look at, let alone eat. And it only cost us $55 for dinner! What a steal. Ironically, my dad had nothing to say about that.

I was thinking that it might be fun to post some of my old emails, so here's the oldest one I've got (it's from March of 1998 when I was a Junior in high school):

"matt,

first of all, i don't know if it was you or tom who fucked with my
password, but whoever it was is gonna be majorly fucked over because i
didn't think it was funny. it took me forever to get on tonight but
i've got a new password now and you can be sure that neither one of
you will EVER find out what it is. and whoever wrote on my outgoing
mail "lizbian queen of the dykes" i didn't think that was funny
either. and ducks can too have names.

liz

p.s.what's so awkward about interracial relationships?"

Leave me alone!

It has been a shamefully long time since I last wrote. Get over it. I've been busy. I finished up my Biology class (and got an A, thank you very much). The most interesting thing about that class was the fact that there were mice running rampant in the classroom. Even though I love mice dearly, it was still frightening to feel something scurry across my sandaled foot during a lecture on the chromosomal basis of inheritance. Aside from Biology class, I've been watching a lot of Big Brother, laying around, going to kickboxing, reading, listening to audiobooks, worrying, crying, listening to music, talking about how people should eat more raw foods, thinking about how I should go outside more often, making lists of things I want to buy, talking about the future, sleeping, dreaming about telling the contestants on Big Brother what strategic moves they should be making, jogging, playing word games, attempting to learn how to hip-hop dance, reorganizing my drawers, thinking about how pretty soon I won't be able to wear sandals anymore, pouting, cooking, going to the movies, and talking on the phone. So, I haven't had a lot of time to write this blog.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Tonight at dinner, I spent the entire time listening to my parents argue and looking out the window at couples getting into their cars in the parking lot, wondering where they were going, where they'd been and if they still love each other. I ordered a baked potato instead of fries because I figured it would make my dad happy. He doesn't like to see me eat fatty foods. But my baked potato was old and wrinkled. Meanwhile my mom ordered a fully-loaded Coney dog and fries. I found out when I got home that I was not picked to be an extra in the Drew Barrymore movie they're shooting in and around Saline this summer. Well that's just great! I read that they needed thousands of people, so I figured, sure, they'll call me. I guess I'm not pretty enough or cool enough or special enough or quirky enough to even stand in the background while Drew Barrymore walks down the street. And I just wanted to see famous people. Still, I know there is a lot to be thankful for. Diet Coke tastes delicious, Big Brother is on tonight, and my mom bought these new flip-side crackers (one side is pretzel, the other side is cheddar!) upon my request. I can't eat the crackers in front of my dad, though. So what I'll probably do is put some in a Ziploc bag and hide it at the back of my closet or under my pillow and then munch away quietly while watching a documentary about people who attempt to ride Great White sharks. This past Monday was my birthday. I got a lot of well-wishes from friends and family, so I'm thankful for that too. I'm 26 now. I guess that means I'm...well, I don't really know what that means. There's no set thing that you're supposed to know or be able to do by age 26. Or maybe there is and I'm just too dumb to know it. Maybe that's why Drew Barrymore hates me. I'm 26. I'm living with my parents. I miss Sean and Catie. I miss Kate. And sometimes I even miss Josh, though I probably shouldn't allow myself to. Every year on my birthday, I buy a gift for myself. It's kind of like a safety net, so that if no one gets me what I really want, I know I'll just go and get it for myself. Birthdays and holidays aren't supposed to be about presents, but let's be honest, they're a little bit about presents. They're also a little bit about seeing which people really know you, who's really in your corner, who cares. One year for my birthday, Josh got me an ankle bracelet. It was nice and all, but most anyone who knows me knows I'm not much of a jewelry girl, and definitely not much of a foot-jewelry girl. It's the thought that counts, though--I know. I wore that ankle bracelet to my sister's wedding. Eventually I grew to like what it represented, or what I thought it represented--that Josh saw me as someone graceful enough or feminine enough to wear something like a pretty silver ankle chain. Since a lot of times I think of myself as someone who looks thick and solid and man-ish, or as my dad and other gentler sorts would describe my body type: "strong," it felt good to think of myself as girly for once. But, I remember showing Josh that I was wearing the ankle bracelet, and he didn't even remember giving it to me. When I reminded him that it had been his birthday gift to me just a month before, he told me he must've forgotten since he sent his sister to pick it out. His sister, whom I'd never even met. This year, I couldn't think of a gift to get myself. What do you get for a 26-year-old who's got pretty much everything, including a fantasmo TV on which to watch everything from Jaws to Gilmore Girls? Nothing, I guess.

Steven Daigle--Big Brother 10

If you're wondering about the title of this post, I did that just in case Steven of Big Brother 10 was surfing around looking for little tid-bits about himself online, as we are all wont to do on occasion. Well, Steven, I hope you're reading this because I've got some things I'd like to say:

1. YOU TOTALLY SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN VOTED OFF. If it was up to America, I can say with absolute certainty that you'd still be on the show. You're sweet, smart, and not a total tool like some of the other house guests still roaming around, cough...Jessie...cough.

2. WHAT WAS WITH JESSIE'S GOODBYE MESSAGE TO YOU?! He could've at least said something like, "Hey man, I'm sorry I had to get you out of the house this week." Instead, he spent the entire time talking about how he knows you look up to him and want a physique just like his!! I think "physique" is Jessie's favorite word. No, wait, scratch that--"Jessie" is Jessie's favorite word. Your physique is great as is, Steven. You're way way hotter than Jessie could ever hope to be!! I keep trying to think of what movie star you remind me of...I wanna say a cross between Dennis Quaid (the early years) and Kevin Costner (the early years). Two hot cowboy-types, like yourself.

3. I VOTE FOR YOU TO COME BACK FOR THE NEXT BIG BROTHER ALL-STARS EDITION! I would've loved to watch you play the game longer. If it weren't for some bad luck early on, I think you would've made it pretty far. So if any BB producers are reading this (which I'm quite sure there aren't, but hey...), put Steven on the next All-Stars edition. America wants more Steven! Steven deserves a fair shot.

4. YOU SEEM LIKE A GENUINELY NICE FELLOW. I know I don't know you at all, but you seem like a good guy, Steven. I wish you the best! Here's hoping Jessie gets voted off tonight. If he's not out tonight, he'll be out soon, I'm sure:)

This post will bore you to death.

My book on blogging says that you're never supposed to write something like this on your blog:

"I have no idea what to write today."

I was just thinking about what to write in this post, and I thought I would make a list of what I did today. Then I thought about titling the list: "All the boring things I did today." But then I remembered my 'Rough Guide to Blogging' book, and how it says you're not supposed to preface your writing by saying that it's boring because then no one will want to read it.

Fuck you, 'Rough Guide to Blogging'! You don't know shit. My reader is loyal. She'll read whatever I write!!

ALL THE BORING THINGS I DID TODAY:

1. Get up. Think to myself that it sort of seems like it's raining outside and maybe this is a sign that I shouldn't go running this morning. Remember a scary story my sister told be about almost being attacked by a deranged man in a silk shirt over the 4th of July holiday (while she was out for a run), and think that this is probably definitely a sign that I shouldn't go running this morning. Remember the show I watched last night--The N's (Noggin) Student Body, a reality show hosted by Laila Ali in which fat high-schoolers are challenged to lose weight. Remember how disappointed I was in Rachael (I think that was her name) when she kept saying, "I can't, I can't." Remember how her trainer told her that "It's not supposed to be easy." Remind myself that making myself get up at 7 a.m. to go running (when I totally don't have to) is "not supposed to be easy."

2. Go running. See geese. Avoid eye-contact with other people on the trails.

3. Make a soy blackberry smoothie. Wonder why my blender always looks to streaky--it's not like I never clean it.

4. Eat my smoothie while watching Big Brother: After Dark (BBAD, as I will refer to it in all further posts). Try to decide who I love and who I hate on Big Brother 10, but it may be too soon to tell.

5. Drive to school, listening to the mixed CD I made for Cori as a going away present.

6. Go to Bio 111. Nice kid holds the door for me.

7. Realize that my teacher has not let us out early enough for me to make my noon kickboxing class. Decide to stop at the Meijer gas station outside of Oxford and get snacks.

8. Purchase a dark chocolate Dove bar, some cheddar cheese combos, a peanut butter Lindt Lindor truffle and a Diet Coke. Think to myself that I shouldn't be buying this stuff. Remind myself that I can have this stuff as long as I factor it into my daily calorie allowance. Remind myself that this is "not supposed to be easy."

9. Eat my snacks while listening to a Fresh Air podcast in which Terry Gross interviews Jenna Fischer of The Office.

10. Get home. Take a shower. Make Biology flashcards for 3 and a half hours.

11. Go to Dagwood's to punch the hanging bag we have in the basement. Hanging bag falls down. Dad comes down to help me put it back up and we finally figure out (he figures out) a way to hang it so that it won't fall down anymore. Realize that with the bag hung this way, it no longer makes the loud squeaking noise that it used to. Feel overwhelming wave of relief.

12. Pilfer some Lindt Lindor truffles from Blondie's and go home. Put a WW Quesadilla in the microwave and hit 2. Check my email. Worry about financial aid. Check my blog. Decide to post something.

13. Post a list of all the boring things I did today while microwave beeps at me.

Tomorrow is just one more day I get to press play.

The verdict is in. My Bio 111 teacher finally posted our grades online. For the record, I'm pretty sure he said the grades would be posted sometime Thursday, but they didn't show up until mid-day Saturday!! Ba-humbug. Anyway, I got a 98! I would be celebrating, except that I can't stop thinking about how that 98 would be a 100 if only I hadn't changed that ONE ANSWER. Screw you, temperature at which water is its densest (that'd be 4 degrees Celsius, for you curious minds out there).

I decided that in order to unwind from my test, the only thing I would do all weekend would be to watch television. I'm so proud of myself for coming up with this plan. Of course, a few things got in the way of that. I had to go to Meijer with my Mom. But it turned out great because she bought me season 3 of The Closer, which is one of my favorite shows. Season 4 starts on Monday, so we wanted to catch up on Season 3 before that premieres. I also had to go over to Dagwood's a couple of times to get sandwiches. It's times like those I wish I had a Segway. Soon, a trend started to develop...after a few blissful hours of TV watching, I would start to feel guilty about "not living." Then I would make myself do a Biggest Loser workout or go swimming or something. Then I would start to feel sad that I wasted so much time being active, when I could've been watching Gross Anatomy, a stellar 80's dramedy starring Matthew Modine as plucky med student Joe Slovak. Oh, the humanity! You may think I sound like a lazy, fat bitch. You're partly right. However, as anyone who reads this regularly would know, I am a movie lover. I consider movie-loving and TV-show loving to be a hobby of mine. Some people like to go fishing (I like fishing too, except for the whole killing an innocent creature thing). Some people are numismatists. As much as I love shiny things and history and placing round items in specially-slotted cardboard notebooks (and I do--I really, really do), I would prefer to...oh I don't know...watch a show? Some people love to watch baseball. That's cool. I let them have that. I don't call a baseball lover a lazy, fat bitch. So why can't you let me have my hobby? Just let me be! Let me be, dammit! I've seen a lot of movies, and as a result have learned many lessons. I have learned that it is never a good idea to investigate that noise in the shed. I have learned that men and women can't be friends. I have learned that it is OK to punch someone in the junk, as long as you're on a runaway train and you're hanging halfway out the window. See? So many lessons. As Zoe Saldana's character in Center Stage says (near the end of the movie, when they're about to find out who made the company), "Tomorrow is just one more day I get to dance." That's how I feel about watching movies. Even if I sometimes feel like I am wasting my life watching other people do cool things with their lives (or watching what someone other than me imagined other people doing and then wrote, cast, filmed, edited, sold, marketed, and released)--it's a sweet, sweet sorrow.

Whatever happened to Preparation A through G?

Hello all (all one of you who read this, that is)! I'm sorry it's been such a long time since I posted. Why do I feel like that's the sentence I always start with?? Hmmm....peculiar! Anyway, I guess I haven't posted in such a long time because I've fallen into a deep depression. Last night I was reading a book that I thought was going to be good, but it wasn't good. I looked at the picture of the woman who wrote it (you know the picture in the back of the book with the little blurb underneath that says how the author is happier than she's ever been before (ever!), living in Mayberry with her husband and her small-enough-to-put-in-a-bicycle-basket dog, Triscuit?). I shouldn't be allowed to do that. It always makes me feel like...hey, this woman wrote a book, and this book is not even good...why don't I write a not-good book and get a husband and a dog? I'm too busy to get a husband and a dog. I have Biology class to worry about. Today I took my first Bio test, and I did the dumbest thing ever...I went back and changed one of my answers...and it turns out I changed it from the correct answer to the incorrect answer! I'm ridiculous. I'm sure I still did fine on the test, but it bugs me. And by the way, why would I ever need to know the temperature at which water is its densest? I guess you need to know that if you're going to be a nurse...because when people come into the ER, they're usually like, "I'm shot! I'm shot!...But before you stitch me up can you please tell me the temperature at which water is its densest? I just wanna make sure I'm in good hands here, and if you don't know that well....say buh-bye." Here's a question: how is it that some people can finish a 51-question test in 7 minutes? It takes me longer than 7 minutes to fill in my name on the Scantron (and then go back and make sure I didn't fill in two letters in the same row or something...). I'd only finished page one of the 6-page test and people were already walking up and handing in their tests! Wtf? Maybe I'm just a slow reader or something. But I'm annoyed by people like that. It's not a race. This isn't the Tour de France. We're in Biology class. We're learning about the functional groups. We're learning that DNA has a sugar-phosphate backbone. Cool your jets. Speaking of jets, today I saw the new Will Smith movie "Hancock." There are no jets in that movie, but whatevs. It was actually a pretty good movie. I resisted seeing it because I don't generally like superhero movies, but this was more romantic comedy disguised as action adventure. When I learned that Jason Bateman was in it, it was a done deal. He's great. So, I recommend it. If you really want to see a movie this weekend and don't feel like watching Wall-E (I don't blame you), go and see "Hancock." It's deece (that's my slang for decent...get with the times, you!). Other than seeing "Hancock," here's what I did today (in chronological order):

1. Wake up and go over all my Biology stuff in my head while lying in bed, thinking that I should probably go back to sleep so that I'll be well rested, but not being able to sleep because I was nervous about the test.

2. Go running in Rowden park. I try to do this every morning. When I go early enough, I get to see ducklings! I heart ducklings.

3. Shower, breakfast, watch 10 minutes of 30 Days, the super-fantasmo Morgan Spurlock show.

4. Drive to Oakland, listening to Biology-related podcasts and tutorials. (I am a super nerd)

5. Sit in Oakland Center looking at flashcards, pretty sure that people are making fun of me.

6. Sit on the floor in O'Dowd hall waiting for the door to my classroom to be unlocked and listening to my classmates muse about what will be on the test.

7. Take my Bio test and finish WELL AFTER most people in my class.

8. Drive home while listening to a mix CD I made, all the windows rolled down because I have no air in my car.

9. Stop at the Meijer gas station outside of Oxford, get a donut and some cheese crackers (it's fat day).

10. Go to the store and talk to my mom about how I messed up on that 'at what temp is water its densest question?'

11. Mom looks up the correct answer to the question and confirms my fears (I changed my correct answer to the incorrect answer! Stupid! Stupid!)

12. Cori comes to Dagwood's and we have lunch. But I didn't eat that much. The pasta salad was too mayonnaisey.

13. Go see Hancock.

14. Now I am here.

Don't worry about me. I'm really not all that depressed. I just felt like writing that. Things are going well. I've been drinking smoothies for breakfast. It's all good.

Coolest Summer Show

So You Think You Can Dance is totally my new favorite show! That is, until Big Brother comes back in a few weeks. Then my life will be all Big Brother, all the time. But for now, my heart belongs to SYTYCD!!! My favorite choreographers so far are Napolean & Tabitha. Their routines are the coolest! If you've never watched SYTYCD, give it a try. I guarantee you'll be entertained.

R.I.P. George Carlin

Today is a sad, sad day, because we have lost a beloved comedian and a lovely man--George Carlin. I'm a record enthusiast. I think records have a much purer sound (and are just generally better in many, many ways) than Compact Discs. I'll discuss that in more detail at a later time. Since I began collecting them when I was probably a junior or senior in high school, I've received a great many albums from a lot of my friends' parents who wanted to get rid of them to make more room for Compact Discs (fools!). One of the albums I received (I'm getting to the point now, I promise...) was George Carlin's 1972 recording, "Class Clown." It's one of my favorite comedy recordings ever. My favorite part is when George asks the audience to collectively stick their fingers in their mouths and make that popping sound you can make when you do that. It sounds so cool...plus it's funny. George was drunk with power that night. I know that's not much of a George Carlin anecdote, but it's all I've got. Here's hoping that wherever he is, good ole G.C. is chillin' and havin' a laugh.

Movie Magic

It's Saturday night and I'm sitting in bed watching "You've Got Mail." I probably should be feeling sorry for myself about now, but there's something to be said for spending a quiet evening alone. Actually, to me, watching a movie at home (or in the theater) is one of the best ways (if not the best way) to spend an evening. I just love movies, that's all.

I try to see a movie in the theater every week, and any week that I don't end up doing that is a sad week. Last week I saw "The Happening," and if you read my last post then you know how I felt about that. Before that, the last movie I saw in the theater was "Sex and the City: The Movie," which I loved. I figured it would be kind of like watching four episodes of the show back to back, which is was. It was funny, heartwarming, moving--everything you could hope for! My friend Kate and I agreed that one of the best moments of the film was when Carrie runs over to Miranda's house to comfort her on New Year's Eve.

One of the cool things about the Sex and the City franchise is that, yes, it's about relationships between men and women (all you guys out there should watch it--it's eye opening on lots of topics!), but it's also about women's relationships with one another. It makes me wonder if we treated our love-relationships more like we treat our friendships if they wouldn't last longer. We put so much pressure on our relationships to be "perfect," but we don't expect our friends to be perfect. Just an observation... See! Movies aren't just an excuse to eat a boatload of popcorn (although, that is a perk)--they're also a means for self discovery and reflection!

My ex-boyfriend used to tell me that I expect too much out of life. He used to say that I was just waiting for my life to be like a movie or a TV show, and it was never going to be like that. But my response was always the same. TV shows and movies are born out of peoples' imaginations. They are a manifestation of peoples' hopes for what the world could be, for a what a relationship could be, for what love could feel like. I refuse to give up hope that my life could be like a movie. I've already had movie moments in my life, and sure, they were fleeting, but they were great. Why should I settle for anything less than movie magic?

Here's a list of movies to watch if you want to feel inspired to live life differently (with more heart and more guts):

"Say Anything"

"It Could Happen to You"

"Patch Adams"

"Erin Brockovich"

"Legally Blonde"

"Under the Tuscan Sun"

TV shows:

"Felicity"

"Gilmore Girls"

"Sex and the City"

"Everwood"


Go ahead, call me corny.

Not so "Happening"

If you were planning on seeing M. Night Shyamalan's new film "The Happening" this weekend, I suggest making other plans. Look, I love M. Night as much as the next girl, but "The Happening" is the worst made-for-TV movie (that wasn't made for TV) I've ever seen! There was literally NO PLOT. Come on, now, I expected a little more from the writer-director of "Signs" and "The Sixth Sense."

I totally dig Shyamalan's minimalist Hitchcockian style...innocent people thrust into dangerous situations in which they must use their wits (not their fists...or machine guns as the case may be) to come out alive. I love the quiet eeriness of it all. Hell, even in this last (albeit unsuccessful) attempt at horror, there were a few moments where I was legitimately afraid of trees. However, on the whole "The Happening" felt to me like one big political statement. We get it, M. Night, global warming is bad and we have angered the plants. I'm doing everything I can to stop global warming. I don't drive an SUV. I recycle. What more do you want from me? Going to the movies is supposed to be fun, interesting, exciting even--an escape. If I wanted to watch "An Inconvenient Truth," I would have.

Still, I could probably get over the extreme soapboxiness if there had been even an ounce of chemistry between Zooey Deschanel and Mark Wahlberg. I love Mark Wahlberg, but in this movie he literally wore one expression on his face throughout--confusion. After the first 20 minutes, I'd had enough of his wrinkled brow...even if it is a handsome one. And Zooey Deschanel, please! She looked like an alien, spoke like a robot, and her character was about as interesting as a day old bagel. John Leguizamo was great as usual, but critically underused in the film. And please, no more close ups of him! The teeth! I'm sorry John, but I could hardly focus. The writing was terrible. Newsflash, M. Night, people don't talk like that!! People don't react to apocalypse-type situations by shrugging their shoulders and commenting about how hot dogs are underrated.

There was a glimmer of something good in "The Happening," a scrap of a good idea, something that (with a lot more work) could've been fleshed out into a truly groundbreaking and perhaps even terrifying film. Instead, the movie played out more like a 7th grader's book report reads--unfocused, awkward, and seemingly written the night before.

I heart Fred.

I think I have found the answer to the Chicago single woman's woes...and his name is Fred. Listen up, ladies, because this guy is the real deal. Bachelorette Deanna Pappas gave Fred the boot last night, and in possibly the saddest and most hopeful limo-moment yet, Chicagoan Fred spoke about what he hoped his future would hold...love, marriage, and having a "bunch of kids." Fred is handsome, funny, and down to Earth. While some guys boasted to Deanna about having bought previous girlfriends (and ex-fiances....um, what?...red flag much?) bags and bags of rose petals (who would want that, by the way?), Fred said that his idea of romance was a quiet getaway to Lake Geneva...a boat cruise, some good food, some relaxation. Sign me up, Fred! While Deanna appears to favor standoffish scruffy bad-boy Graham, I can't help but see the glory that is Fred. Ellen Degeneres agrees! She awarded Fred a rose when the guys came to visit her show on one of their group dates. So, Chicago ladies, I implore you--look Fred up! He's a solid gold pocket watch in a world of "bling."

Check him out!

In the midst of a deep homosexual panic

Hello all! I am sorry I'm such a loser and haven't posted anything in so long. I think it's because I have incredibly low self esteem. I can barely look at myself in the mirror (ugly! ugly!), let alone write about myself on my blog. Oh, what the hay, here goes:

I'm three weeks into my Chemistry class and it is murder. Electron configurations and covalent bonds, be damned! Being back in college is strange. It doesn't feel as important as it used to. College (the first time around) felt incredibly important, like the only thing in my world that mattered was getting an A in Fiction & Poetry class and making sure my teachers all loved and admired me and basked in the glory that was me. After having spent a few years in the dark and dirty "real world," I don't think so highly of myself anymore. I know that I am trash, and I own it. Now Chemistry class feels like an afterthought. It's as though I am a character in a play--pretending, going through the motions. I am a ventriloquist's dummy, wooden and empty inside.

So, David Cook won American Idol!!!! I am so pleased. He is possibly the most adorable and perfect creature ever to grace God's green earth. Bless you, D.C. You are my dark lord.

I just watched the "Real Housewives of New York City: Reunion Show" today. I know, I am little bit behind the times. But I've gotta say, those ladies sure do know how to throw down. I can't help it. They're all power-hungry, petty bitches, but I love 'em.

The mind is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master

So, I started school and I haven't gotten shot yet--praise Jesus. But I did pick out the safest spot to sit in my classroom just in case a shooter does come busting through the door one day. This is going to sound silly, but today I found myself staring fearfully at this mildly-retarded boy who was walking through the student center. It was just, he hand his hand under his coat in a very menacing way.

The best thing about going back to school is the commute. No really, it is. Because I don't have to go on any major highways (which means I get to look at a shit load of Applebee's restaurants and Home Depot stores and huge suburban homes in which live families much wealthier (but probably not much happier...ok, probably happier) than mine, all of which make me smile from within) and while I'm driving I get to catch up on Podcasts! My favorite Podcast, I think, is the Barnes and Noble Meet the Writers Podcast, hosted by Steve Bertrand. I'm pretty sure they record the Podcast in Chicago, because Steven Bertrand is always saying things like, "Well, here in Chicago..." That makes me think that maybe I know Steve Bertrand because I used to work at B&N's flagship store in Chicago and one of my manager's names was Steve!! But their voices don't really match. Plus, they probably got someone flashier than my manager to do the Podcast, although Steve was always very nice and his khaki slacks were always pressed neatly. Anyway, it's a good podcast...only about 10-15 minutes long, but it updates regularly and Steve Bertrand interviews all sorts of different writers. Their stories are amazing and often pretty inspiring. It might not be that interesting to someone who's not an aspiring writer, but even if you're just a book lover, you should give it a listen. Here's a link to a couple of fun ones I just listened to:

Click here and you can listen to the podcast at your computer, or you can go to iTunes and search for Barnes and Noble Meet the Writers Podcast and subscribe! I recommend listening to the Martha Beck, Debbie Macomber, and Karen Joy Fowler casts! These are the ones I listened to on the drive home today.

School, and other things I'm afraid of.

So tomorrow I go back to college. I've got a bunch of sharpened number two pencils, a Chemistry book that only cost me $120 (what a steal!), and of course a shiny red apple for my teacher. I've gotta be honest though, I'm worried about school shootings. In fact, they just found some threatening graffiti at Oakland University, which is the school I'll be attending. So, I might end up dying soon, which means that I wouldn't be able to post anymore blogs...but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. A few weeks ago, an episode of "Medium" featured people taking a Tylenol-esque drug and promptly dying. So now I'm afraid to take medicine. I've also been watching a lot of that Oxygen Network documentary-style series "Snapped," which features stories about women who killed their husbands A. in a fit of rage B. for insurance money, or C. because "he totally deserved it." So now I'm afraid to get married. All the episodes have narration that goes something like this: "Tandi thought Bill was the perfect man, but it wasn't until after they got married that she learned he had a dark side. Yes, one dark and dank afternoon Tandi wandered into Bill's basement workshop (even though he told her never to go in there!) and found something sinister...oh so very sinister." They don't tell you what the sinister thing she found was until after the commercial break. Even though the show scares me, it also makes me feel good because it makes me realize that no one is who you think they are, and in a way that's kind of comforting because usually I walk around thinking that everyone is a lot more together than I am. I guess if the worst thing I do is hide bags of Tostitos bite-size gold tortilla chips in my closet and eat them while watching back episodes of VH1's Miss Rap Supreme, then that's not so bad. Hey, I'm only human. Anyway, the list of things I'm scared of goes on and on--the shifty guy who stands in front of the hot nut stand at the mall and acts as if he's about to open his flannel shirt-coat and reveal a bomb strapped to his chest, undercooked meat, the fact that if I accidentally let go of my dog's leash he might catch up to the people walking in front of me and eat their Chihuahua, marionettes, and more. Cat Stevens says "Don't wear fear or nobody will know you're there." He's probably right, but then again...I'm a little afraid of Cat Stevens.

Vacation.

I would've written sooner, except I went on vacation to Mexico. My friends and I were having a great time, drinking and partying, but then for our last day my boyfriend Jeff decided he wanted to go to these ancient ruins...not the same ruins all the tourists go to, but off-the-beaten-path ruins. Anyway, once we got there, we were confronted by some angry Mayans. They shot this guy we were traveling with in the head, so of course we got scared and ran up onto the ruins, which kind of looked like a crumbling pyramid all covered in plant growth. Anyway, to make a long story short, the Mayans surrounded the ruins and we were totally stuck there!! Plus, to make matters worse, those plants growing all over the ruins were man-eating plants! What luck, huh? Anyway, the whole time I was there, all I was thinking was man I wish I could get back home because the first thing I would do is sit down and write on my Blog. So here I am. I just ate a gigantic cheese sandwich, and man, it was the best one I ever tasted. That's what being stuck on some ruins will do to ya--make you mad hungry! Mad hungry. It's funny, too, because it seems like bad things happen a lot when I go on vacation. Last summer, I decided to take my son Roarke white water rafting. I invited my husband too, but I figured he wouldn't come because he's a workaholic. In fact, I was thinking about divorcing him because we'd been growing apart for some time. But he actually did show up for the rafting trip! That made me happy, and I thought we were going to have a lot of fun, but then we were taken prisoner by a couple of guys who had robbed a cattle auction and wanted me to take them down the Gauntlet, which is this really nasty part of the river that had been closed for years because the rapids are so treacherous! I had no choice, because if I didn't do it they were going to kill me and my family. I thought for sure we would drown, but luckily we didn't, and actually my nerdy husband Tom ended up totally saving the day! It turned out to be a pretty cool trip, but a little more stressful than I would've like or than I planned on. At least there were no sharks on that trip. Once, I went to visit my scientist friends at this underwater lab called Aquatica. They were working on curing Alzheimer's Disease. I know! They are great folks. Well, they were. They are mostly all dead now because the genetically engineered super sharks that they created went a little nuts and ended up flooding Aquatica and pushing my friends and I wherever they wanted us to go (they were very smart fish), eating us one by one and inching their way toward freedom. Luckily the chef and the shark wrangler ended up killing the sharks and saving my life. Thank you Carter and...I can't remember the chef's name, but thanks. You might be thinking to yourself right now--Man, Liz, maybe you shouldn't go on vacation anymore. But no, I'm still going to. You can't let fear run your life. In fact, next month I am going flying with a Uruguayan rugby team over the Andes mountains. I can't see how anything can go wrong there.

The God Derned Boogie Man

A Michigan woman was killed by a stingray in the Florida Keys recently. She was on a boat going 25 mph...her dad was driving, and the 500 or so pound sting ray jumped out of the water, hit her in the face, and killed her on impact. What a way to go. I tend to be a pretty cautious person. I'm a worrier by nature. I'm afraid of flying in an airplane. I won't even drink one beer if I know I'm going to be driving. When I'm running with my dog, I worry about slipping on a patch of ice and breaking a bone. I worry about going back to college because I'm afraid of school shootings. I still worry about the Bird Flu. But I try not to let my fears get the best of me. I'll still fly to Vegas and go running and go back to school. I'm not going to shut myself in my room and not live my life. It's just that worrying like that is a battle I always have going on inside me. It's like I'm always having to test myself, to force myself to face my fears and grow as a person. What a pain in the ass, right? But this stingray incident makes me realize that even when you think you're safe, you might not be. You'd think that would make me worry more, but in a way it's kind of freeing. You know? You can't prevent something like getting hit in the face by a stingray from happening, so why try? I don't know if that makes sense to you...but it does to me.

I wish I was going to an Easter buffet this year, but I'm not. Buffets are a lot of fun, and they are also kind of a metaphor for America. We are never satisfied with just one serving, or with just one food-option for that matter. We want the macaroni and cheese AND the ham AND the prime rib. We want salad AND soup AND dessert AND a main course. And we don't want it just once. We want it AS MANY TIMES AS WE FEEL LIKE until we are not just satiated, but STUFFED.

There is this really cool website that you all should visit, especially those of you who are word nerds like me. If you visit it, you'll be helping to feed people who really need food, and you won't have to spend any money, I promise. It's fun, too! Click here! I'll probably post a banner for the site on here soon, but I'm too lazy to do that right now.

I hope you all have a fantastic Easter and that you stuff yourselves full of Cadbury Creme Eggs and marshmallow peeps and even some of that plastic grass that you put in the bottom of Easter baskets. I know you're not supposed to eat that grassy stuff, but if you can't be silly at Easter, when can you be silly? I hope that your Easter celebrations go swimmingly and that none of you get hit in the face by a 500 pound stingray.

The Book of Liz: Part I

I bought a book on blogging, because I'm a nerd like that. The book that I purchased is called: "Navigate the Blogosphere: The Rough Guide to Blogging." I've only read bits and pieces of it so far, but what I've learned is that I'm doing a lot wrong. Maybe that's why no one reads my blog. (Except for you, Kate.) Anyway, according to my book, the people who read my blog want some back-story on me. The people who read my blog want to know what makes me tick. So, I guess I'll get started:

My name is Liz Abruzzo. Some people call me Lizzy. My Dad calls me Lizzy. My friend Becky calls me Lizzy. But most people just call me Liz. Whenever a teacher asks me what I'd like to be called, I say, "Liz." Some people affectionately call me Lizard. Kate calls me Lizard. I allow it from Kate, but you have to be a pretty close friend to get away with calling me Lizard. Not too many people are close enough to me to be able to call me Lizard without me giving them a questioning look (as in, "Do you really think you know me well enough to be calling me Lizard?"). My sister often calls me Eliza or Liza or Lizabeth or E-Lizabeeeeth when she's mad at me. She doesn't really get so mad at me anymore that she yells at me like that. I guess we've grown up.

I was born in Lapeer, Michigan, at the Lapeer Regional Medical Center...I think. I spent almost my entire youth in Lapeer, except for a short period of time where my family relocated to Kalamazoo, Michigan. That happened when I was in 2nd grade, much to the chagrin of my friend Jenny DeArmond. We gave Kalamazoo a try. My mom thought Kalamazoo would be a better place for her children to grow up, since it was where she grew up. And, to my mom's credit, Kalamazoo is way cooler than Lapeer. Culturally, Kalamazoo has so much more to offer...more theater programs, art programs, music programs, etc. In Lapeer, all we have is football. Oh, and basketball. But our time in Kalamazoo was short-lived, partly because my Dad was gone so often traveling back and forth to Detroit (almost a two hour drive!) for acting jobs. My Dad is an actor. And partly because my sister Gina had a mini-nervous breakdown, 5th-grader style. She couldn't deal with being away from her tight-knight group of Lapeer friends. Yeah, she had a heck of a time settling in. There were woods in back of our house and sometimes Gina would run off and be gone for hours, screaming and crying and ranting and raving. Not even a deep-fried dinner from Long John Silver could comfort her. Then I got my first detention ever, at the ripe old age of 7, and that was the final straw. Sure, Kalamazoo was culturally rich and even had a Bookmobile, but that doesn't mean much when compared with the well-being of an entire family. So, aside from that dark period of 8 or so months, I spent my entire youth in Lapeer.

And with that, I'll leave you. I know you're salivating for more, but you'll just have to wait.

I love a man with an accent.

Natalie from Big Brother thinks that there are 27 letters in the alphabet. She is such a dumbass. I'm going on record as saying that I hate these people from Big Brother 9 ('Till Death Do Us Part'): Natalie, Matt, Ryan, and Sheila. I'm pretty sure that's all the people I hate on that show. I especially hate Matty, the roofer from Boston, for thinking he is way cuter than he is and for making comments like: "Do you think I should let Natalie give me a blow job tonight?" Um, do you think you should let her? Natalie is a dummy, but she still deserves some respect, as do all women. Although, what's with the knee-high socks Natalie? Why the fuck do you always wear thong underwear, a tiny tank top, and knee-high socks? Are you on your way to slutty softball practice? Please stop. Please, please stop.

A new season of The Bachelor starts next Monday! And this time The Bachelor is British. I think it's safe to say that most women would sleep with pretty much any guy that had a British accent. Accents are fantastic. But lucky for 27 year old Matt Grant, a global financier from London, he isn't half bad to look at. Matt Grant is desperate to settle down and start having kids. His ideal woman is: "adventurous, playful and fun, who loves to travel and enjoys the outdoors...funny, self-deprecating, and outgoing." Hmmm. Yes, Matt, those are very desirable traits in a lady friend. I wonder if any Bachelor ever said that his ideal woman was a fearful, boring, homebody with no sense of humor and no social graces. Hey ladies, here's a little tip to get you in good with the hot Brit: he loves working out and current events! He's at his happiest on the treadmill while watching the news. I wonder if he likes girls that wear thong underwear and tube socks? I personally love it when the girls say they are "willing to do whatever it takes" to get a rose.

Poor, poor David Archuleta. He really fucked up Beatles' night. Then again, there were only a few really great performances last night. I'm charmed by Jason Castro and Michael Johns. Chikezie is growing on me. David Cook is a confident performer who always picks great songs. I could do without Syesha, Amanda, Kristi-Lee, and Ramiele. Carly is ok. David Hernandez is just aight. Brooke White is darling.

I'm so happy.

I'm so happy. Senator Clinton won three out of four states yesterday, including TEXAS and OHIO! Hell yes. There's still hope. Obama and his glass jaw might just have to wait another 8 years...

I'm so happy. They're making a movie out of one of my favorite childhood books--Roald Dahl's "Fantastic Mr. Fox" It looks like Wes Anderson is directing it, and co-adapting the screenplay with Noah Baumbach. Um...considering the post I just put up about Baumbach's last movie ("Margot at the Wedding"), lets just say I'm thankful he's got help on this project, especially since it's so close to my heart. It's going to be a stop-motion animation movie with the voice talents of George Clooney (as Mr. Fox), Cate Blanchett, Bill Murray, and maybe Jason Schwartzman (I hope, I hope!), and Anjelica Houston. 2009 is going to be a good year.

I predict that Luke Menard, and either Danny Noriega or Chikezie will be eliminated from American Idol on Thursday.

I would write more but I have to go out to dinner now.

Hysterical is the new calm.

This is my 50th post! I'm so proud of myself for doing 50 of anything. Anyway... I was reading TV Guide today, and it turns out Matt Roush agrees with me about Quarterlife. His review in a nutshell: Quarterlife blows. Don't watch it.

I went to the movies with my parents yesterday. I am so cool, by the way, all out and about with my parents. After the movie we went and walked around Whole Foods, which reminded me a lot of how I used to spend afternoons in the city, walking into random grocery stores, taking just a little more than my fair share from the bowl of sample guacamole. I heart Mexican food. We saw this movie called "Charlie Bartlett." I think I'm in love with the actor who plays Charlie, Anton Yelchin. He's adorable, and hilarious! Anyway, it's a fantastic movie and I highly recommend it. It's uplifting, funny, sweet--plus, any movie that showcases a great old Cat Stevens song and has shades of the delightful wackiness of "Harold and Maude" is a movie I like. Go see it in the theater and support it!

Today I watched "Margot at the Wedding" which is the latest film from Noah Baumbach ("Kicking and Screaming" (the one with Eric Stoltz, not Will Ferrell), "The Squid and the Whale"). I gotta say, I want to be a Noah Baumbach fan, but I just don't get his movies. He must watch a lot of foreign movies. His movies are always so dark and talky and with no real plot to speak of. Call me old fashioned, but I like plot. And what is Noah's fascination with masturbation? People were masturbating all over the place in "The Squid and the Whale" (remember the kid leaving his spooge all over school?) and they were masturbating a lot in "Margot..." too--seemingly for no reason. At the end, there's this part where the kid who plays Nicole Kidman's son says, "I masturbated last night, while you were sleeping, mom. I went into the bathroom and locked the door and I did it," to which she replies, "You don't need to tell me things like that, sweetie!" No shit! What 14 year old kid tells his mom stuff like that? And how does it even serve the movie to include it? At least I'm not the only one who thinks "Margot at the Wedding" is pretentious and dubious.

I love all sorts of movies, but maybe I'm a simple girl at heart. I loved "Definitely, Maybe" starring Ryan Reynolds and Isla Fisher. Could anyone be more adorable than Isla Fisher? I think not.

I want a god damn ice cream sandwich.

I barely ate anything today. And when I say I barely ate anything, what I mean is that I ate a lot of crap that's good for me, but that I don't really like...like lettuce. Mmm...lettuce.

So, this is pretty disturbing: my mom keeps talking about how she heard on 60 minutes that people who live in Denmark are the happiest people on Earth. It's not because they have low taxes, either. I think she said they give up something like 50% of their income to taxes! BUT education and heath care are free. That's not the disturbing part, though. The disturbing part is that I repeated this little tidbit to a younger friend of mine (still in high school), to which the friend replied: "Is Denmark in the U.S.?" Oh...my.

I tried watching that show Quarterlife tonight. My mom taped it. We only started watching it because our recording of American Idol was starting to catch up to the live show (you know how you record something, then start watching it before it's done recording?). I watched twenty minutes of it before suggesting that we return to Idol. She was annoyed by that. I said: "I'm not impressed." She said: "Well I guess I'm just not as picky as you." And I said: "I just don't want to waste my life watching shows that suck." And it's true, I don't. Quarterlife is unrealistic. I'm actually in that stage of life and I don't identify with the show or its characters at all. It's a bad chick lit novel in motion--the brooding, politically aware, self-loathing writer who works at the teeny-bopper magazine and whose perky blonde boss steals her brilliant ideas...the gorgeous wannabe actress who masks her insecurity with booze and boys...the girl who loves her boyfriend more than he loves her...the guy who pines for his best friend's girlfriend. Ugh. At least The O.C. didn't take itself so seriously.

One of these days I'm going to stop watching trashy TV...but not today!

A few nights ago on Big Brother After Dark, the kids got a margarita party, and you know what that spells: T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Actually, watching BBAD has been way more entertaining and enlightening than watching the CBS version of the show. So all the kids got drunk. James and Natalie got naked...again. James has quite the large penis, by the way, and Natalie has one of the nicest boob jobs I've ever seen. Anyway, they all got drunk and jumped in the pool and then they all started making out with each other. It looked like quite a lot of fun. James appears to be the best kisser, which is fitting considering he was already my favorite house guest. Bicycling cross country for a year? Sweet looking Mohawk? A tattoo of Brawny paper towels on your chest? Um...you're the greatest, James. While they were all drunk and making out with each other, Natalie kept shouting, "I just wanna live!!" So do I, Natalie. So do I.

Tonight, American Idol boys' night was slightly better than last week. I predict that Luke what's-his-name who sang "Killer Queen" will go home and the dude with the weirdo streak of blond in his bangs who sang the Doobie Brothers will go home. I'm still enamored of the hot Aussie, and crossword-puzzle loving David Cook also won me over tonight, even though he kinda looks like he has Downs Syndrome. I too, David, am a word nerd. Rock on!

Neil Young is my hero.

I think I need to detox from both TV and the internet. Last night I was putting away groceries and instead of turning on the TV for background noise, I put on one of my Neil Young records. It was so much better than listening to some Access Hollywood bullshit about how Britney Spears is probably going to die soon. I mean, I love TV. Don't get me wrong. But I need to stop watching useless crap. I should watch more scripted TV. I Netflixed the first two seasons of The Closer, and I love it! I highly recommend it. The show is a bit of a slow burn, though. Give it some time, allow the characters to grow on you, and you'll be hooked, I promise! It's harder to stop myself from going on the internet, though, especially iTunes. I heart iTunes. I've always been a fan of audiobooks and iTunes has a huge selection for not that much money! I also heart the iTunes essentials sections where you can get all the "essential" tracks for pretty much every musician ever. It's a great way to familiarize yourself with artists you haven't listened to before, and also a great way to rediscover old favorites. For instance, I'm a huge Otis Redding fan, and last night I learned that he died in a plane crash when he was only 26! He started recording at 21, which means that in just 5 years, he made so so so so much incredible music! I can only imagine how much more he would've contributed to music had he lived even a few years longer. Anyway... I just got back from my kickboxing class. Fuck you, side raises. You're out of the will.

What is this Oregon...?

I promise to stop writing about Big Brother After Dark very soon, but I just have to say something. The other night, one of the people on there (this girl named Amanda) was talking about Oregon. She said, "I have never met anyone from Oregon! I didn't even know people even lived in Oregon!" Then later this guy Matt was giving the girl from Oregon (Natalie) a massage. He was talking about how he wishes there was a "healthy" fast food place. This was in response to Natalie saying that it was her lifelong dream to produce and market her own brand of protein shakes. He was really enthusiastic about that idea. Anyway, he was saying, "you know, you're driving on the highway--oh wait, do they have highways where you live?" Um...what the fuck? It's Oregon, not Jupiter! What the hell is wrong with these people?

The distant future, the year 2000.

So last night I taped the Big Brother: After Dark 3 hour block on Showtime (it airs from midnight to 3 am, but California time that's 9 pm to midnight, so it's not like all they're doing is sleeping). Then I woke up at about 4 am and I couldn't get back to sleep so I decided to watch some of it. It's crazy! I have the total inside scoop now. Since the evictions are live, I'm able to see things as they happen in real time versus the juicy bits they edit and put on the show. Like, on last nights CBS televised episode, they evicted Sharon and Jacob. But on the After Dark episode, Sharon was there!! I was like...huh? What's going on here? Then I realized she must've been allowed back into the house for some reason. I think one of the other players decided to leave for personal reasons, so the producers let Sharon come back. Anyway...other than some extra dirt like that, it's mostly just watching people be catty and talk gameplay endlessly and eat dinner and burp and swear and stuff. Another interesting thing, though, is that they'll start talking about stuff like, "well in the paperwork we got...in our reading materials...and oh, they're already casting for BB10...and oh, this is going to be a short season, that's why they're having us be in pairs.." and all this stuff, so it's kind of like getting a peek at what it would actually be like to be on a reality show. Plus I never realized how often the Big Brother guy comes over the loudspeakers and demands that the house guests do things. He'll come on and be like, "Sharon and Parker: please do not obstruct your microphone" or "Ryan: please report to the diary room." It's super fun! But anyway, I guess people who don't watch Big Brother were probably super bored by all that, so I'll move on.

Last night I was going through my old emails. I've had a yahoo account since about junior year of high school, and I still have every email (just about, anyway) I've ever received or sent since 1998! Sometimes it's fun to go back and read them. So, I know you all know how much I adore food, but just to reiterate that again, here are excerpts from an email I sent in September of 2000 (also known as my first semester at WMU):

"Well today is the first day I ever really
went food shopping for myself. When you think about
it, it's like in high school, sure, you go to Miejers
to buy pop or chips or (in my case) frozen coke and
ice cream. Or, you go to get food to make yourself
dinner, but you never really go to shop for yourself
for the week or the month, etc. Maybe you go for your
parents, but then it's their money and afterall you
don't really care what you get since it's their money
you're spending in the first place. So today I went
shopping and I put myself on a budget of $20. I had
to look at prices and take advantage of deals and
stuff like that. And I'm not really sure if I did a
good job or a bad job. For $18.25 I got: one bag of
sour cream and onion tato skins, 4 cans of spaghettios
with meatballs, 4 boxes of lipton's extra noodle soup,
1 extra large white ceramic bowl, 2 packages of thorn
apple valley sausages, 1 two liter bottle of lipton
brisk raspberry iced tea, and a six pack of halloween
festivity doughnuts. Does it sound like I did a good
job to you??

And, I ate in the cafeteria today. I couldn't decide
between the deli sandwich and the jumbo hotdog. Well,
which one do you think I picked? The hotdog!!
Nope--actually I went with the deli sandwich. That's
because the deli sandwich is easy to smuggle out and
the hotdog is not. I would actually have much rather
had the hotdog. I am going to go down there for
dinner too. I love the frozen yogurt down there!!!"

I had such good eating habits back then.... Anyway, that's all for now. Today is my Dad's birthday, so I have to go buy him a donut.

I finally have Showtime so I can watch Big Brother: After Dark!

I just watched episode 1 of Big Brother 9, the winter edition! I think the soul mate twist is interesting. I wonder if any of the couples will actually hook up. Someone's getting voted off tonight and I for one hope it's the older lady. I can't remember her name, but she's a psycho bitch. Even if you don't think your partner is that cute, you don't have to be that vocal about it. And just because you're paired up with him doesn't mean you have to have sex with him...freak! Also, I wanted to let everyone know (in case you hadn't heard) that they're going to start airing my absolute favorite show ever, Dexter, on CBS beginning this Sunday night. I can't promise it's going to be as good as the episodes that air on Showtime (it'll be cleaner, that's for sure. But I like it dirty!), but I still think you should watch if you don't have Showtime. It's the best show I've ever seen. I swear. Also...something a little sad. Tomorrow night on Survivor, apparently Ozzy and Amanda are going to hook up. What the shit? I want Ozzy to be my boyfriend. I don't want to see him tonguing Amanda. There's no need for that. Get your head in the game, Ozzy. Making out with Amanda/allowing Amanda to give you oral sex isn't going to make you a faster swimmer or better at slaughtering wild boars! Unless she's got a hidden immunity idol up her snatch, stay away! In happier news, the writers strike is finally over!! Maybe this means How I Met Your Mother and all my other favorites will come back. I sincerely hope it means that we won't have to be subjected to two months of Farmer Wants a Wife. One more thing: American Idol. I'm going on record as saying that I love Josiah and the hot Aussie who sang Queen and Otis Redding! Can you say soul mate?

R.I.P. Roy Scheider

I've just been feeling kinda sad all day, and I think I figured out why. I went online earlier and discovered (to my dismay) that Roy Scheider recently died. If you know me, you know that I am a huge Jaws fan. The fact that Mr. Scheider is no longer with us makes me feel like a little bit of myself has died. So rest in piece, Roy Scheider. I love you and you are badass.

Supermarket Sweep me off my feet!

So, I'm back in lovely Lapeer after a weekend of fun in Chicago. Kate and Jon adopted a gorgeous feline from Paws: Chicago. He's got kitty AIDS and a bum leg. He's a hot mess by the name of Tommy Lee Jones. Meeting him was one of the many highlights of a great weekend. Other highlights: chillin with Kate and watching copious episodes of True Life (one of my favorite guilty pleasures), seeing three movies in three days, eating delicious Greek food at a very warm and inviting Andersonville restaurant, watching clips from the Jiminy Glick show at four in the morning, and listening to Josh tell (forcefully) about the time he screamed at a customer because she wondered what happened to Yoplait Whips. "Got a BLENDER?" he said he screamed at her. "Put regular yogurt in the BLENDER and then it'll be WHIPPED, you dumb whore, you fat slut!" Josh is so tactful. Anyway, I had a great time. I didn't even stress out that much about parking. Ok, well, a little I did. There's not much more I can think to say right now, except for that the past few days I've been thinking a lot about that old game show, "Supermarket Sweep." Remember? There'd be three couples and they'd have to answer grocery-related questions and then at the end, the couple with the most points would get the chance to do the supermarket sweep. They'd have three minutes or so to retrieve the products hinted at by three clues. Every time I'm in the grocery store, I think how hard it would be to find an item hinted at by a clue. It's hard for me to find things at Meijer even when I know what I'm looking for. And that's a grocery store that I'm very familiar with. The Supermarket Sweep grocery store probably isn't even a real grocery store, and even if it is, it's certainly not the contestants' usual grocery store. That makes it even harder!! You know how when you walk into a Target that isn't the Target you normally go into, you feel at home and shell-shocked all at once? And people always seem to need to make comments about how weird it is that the shampoo at this Target is in a totally different place! It's like, we can't wrap our heads around it. Anyway, whenever I'm doing some kind of workout maneuver (like the plank position, where you're holding yourself up sort of in a push-up position and working your abs) I start thinking how thirty seconds feels like forever when I'm working out, but it would go by lickity-split if I were on Supermarket Sweep. Also, thinking about Supermarket Sweep makes me remember just how expensive sides of beef really are. They're expensive. But they're also heavy. You know what's expensive and not that heavy? Batteries. That's all I'm gonna say.

Love you guys.

A love letter to Kate Bauer

Hey everyone.  Uh...I mean, Kate.  Hey Kate.  Thanks, Kate, by the way, for letting me stay at your fly pad this weekend.  It's totally sweet here.  Right now I am writing this blog from your den and I can hear the gentle murmur of you chatting sweetly with Jon from behind your bedroom door and ALSO I can hear Gilmore Girls Season 4 Disc 1 playing quietly in the living room!  You are the awesomest person I know for many, many reasons, not the least of which is that you purchased the Gilmore Girls Complete Series set, which comes in it's own fashionable carrying case AND includes two super-special booklets: one complete episode guide and one book of Gilmore-isms.  You are the luckiest girl in the whole world, and the prettiest.  Thanks for my super-awesome Natalie Dee T-shirt, too.  You are the best.  I am a terrible friend because I forgot your Christmas present at home and because when I realized that you left your Luke's mug at our old apartment I made a conscious decision NOT to return it to you, but to keep it for myself.  That makes me both selfish and mean-spirited.  It's a good thing I'm not a contestant in the Miss America pageant, because I'm not pretty enough to win a cash prize and I'm not nice enough to win Miss Congeniality.  Anyway, Kate, you are my star.  You are my true north.  For that you get my eternal gratitude and love and one of these days (if you're lucky), a steak dinner.  I wish that Novelty Golf & Games/the Bunny Hutch in Lincolnwood was open.  If it was, we could go there and listen to some great oldies tunes while eating soft serve vanilla ice cream cones with sprinkles and only half-trying to putt our multi-colored balls into the mouth of a giant skull.  When I'm with you, Kate, it doesn't matter if my magenta golf ball goes in the hole.  All that matters is that when we're at a carnival together we both KNOW that the only ride worth going on is the Tomb of Doom.  All that matters is that we both agree Neil Young would be a good name for my next cat, and that if you don't name your next pet Fred Savage, you will probably name it Tuna.  You are the greatest.  There is only one Kate Bauer on planet Earth, and I cherish her.  One of my favorite things about you is that you share a last name with one of my all time favorite TV characters--Angela Bauer of 'Who's the Boss?'  Although, she may have spelled it differently.  'Who's the Boss?' was my absolute favorite show when I was little.  I would race home from school, make a stack of buttered toast, and devour it while watching whatever hijinks Tony, Angela and the rest of the crew (that means you, Mona!) got themselves into that episode.  The silliest thing, though, is that even though you and Angela Bauer are practically related, you're nothing like her!  She's uppity and anxiety-ridden while you are down-to-earth and cool as a cucumber.  She has blonde hair which she wears in a sort of puffy lion's mane around her face, while you have gorgeous chocolate-brown hair that flows goddess-like (or Victoria's Secret Angel-like) about your shoulders.  She wears pirate-ish blouses with shoulder pads and sensible loafers, while you favor band T-shirts and Chuck Taylors.  ANYWAY...I love you more than I love a good meat-in-a-bag dinner, and you know me, so you know how much that is.  I just really wanted to thank you for providing me shelter for the next few days, because as you know, it's downright chilly outside!  You're a saint for letting me come a day earlier than planned, and you're a God for buying me a Thai-food dinner.  I loved my spicy bamboo chicken so much that I think I might marry it and take it to Aruba for a honeymoon.  Not only did you buy me a Thai-food dinner--you also let me have two cans of diet soda and AS MANY FUDGESICLES AS I WANTED.  I am in awe of you, Kate Bauer.  I guess there's not much more to say.  I'll just say this: if we went on Family Feud together (which is an impossibility since we're not blood related, and we will never be related-by-law since neither one of us has a male sibling) it would not be a good decision to allow us to be the two family members who play in the final round (the 'Fast Money' round) because we pretty much share a brain, and when the host (for the purpose of this example, let's say the host is Ray Combs (yes, before he was nearly paralyzed, went through financial problems, and eventually took his own life) because he was my favorite.  Boy, those were the days, huh?) asked us both the question: "Which food would be difficult to eat without teeth?" we would both scream without hesitation: "Any kind of meat, Ray!  Any kind of meat!"--but one of us would lose precious seconds because the other one had already given that answer (and that would've happened on every other question, resulting in extreme loss of question-answering time, resulting in loss of focus, resulting in panic, resulting in failure to supply points-winning answers, resulting in the loss of money).  We both know that the only thing that really matters in life (other than a comfy sweatsuit and a good book on a icy January day) is money.  I'm just saying: you get me, Kate Bauer, so don't hide that in a bushel basket.  I love you, Kate Bauer, and tomorrow while you're at work I'm going to make it my mission to find some rafters, climb up on them, and shout the way I feel about you.  So...be listening for that.  

And the award goes to...

I am so so so so so incredibly sorry that it's taken me so long to write. I promise I'll do better. Really, I will. There's just been so much going on lately, it's hard to see straight, let alone write an entire blog. First of all: Oscar Nominations. I have a lot of problems with "The Academy." Most of the time I think the movies that are nominated are not movies that please the masses... Like, I'm sure Jaws wasn't nominated for Best Picture in 1975, but that's a kick ass movie. Still, what I'd like to do is tell you who of the nominees I'd like to win and who will win:

BEST PICTURE:

I'd like to win: "Juno"

Will win: "No Country for Old Men"

BEST ACTOR:

I'd like to win: "Daniel Day-Lewis"

Will win: "Daniel Day-Lewis" or "George Clooney"

BEST ACTRESS:

I'd like to win: "Ellen Page"

Will win: "Julie Christie"

SUPPORTING ACTOR:

I'd like: "Hal Holbrook"

Will win: "Javier Bardem" or "Tom Wilkinson"

SUPPORTING ACTRESS:

I'd like: "Amy Ryan"

Will win: "Cate Blanchett"

DIRECTOR:

I'd like: "Jason Reitman"

Will win: "Cohen Bros." or "P.T.A."

BEST DOCUMENTARY:

I'd like: "Sicko"

Will win: "No End in Sight"

BEST SCREENPLAY:

I'd like: "Juno"

Will win: "Juno"


So....we'll see if I'm right or not on Oscar night. If it happens, that is. Ok, onto the next topic: Heath Ledger's death. Man, that stinks. I don't know what else to say. Heath Ledger was a hot aussie who will no longer grace the silver screen or our lush planet Earth. And that's no fun. Maybe if our society wasn't so celebrity obsessed these people could actually lead normal lives. Then again, I guess I'm part of the problem since I love celebrity gossip, movies, TV, etc. Still, I don't stalk celebrities and sell photos of them to the Enquirer and I'm not an agent who whores them out so I can afford tennis courts and an in-ground pool. To all the wayward celebrities out there: follow Jeff Daniels' example. He lives a modest life in Saline, Michigan and only does a few movies a year.

Next topic: the funny word game. A few of my friends and I have come up with a fun game--the funny word game. It's very simple. You just think of a word, like "jacket" and then try to think of another, more formal word that means the same thing...like "parka" or "blazer." Then use that word in a sentence! The best way to play the funny word game, though, is to come up with whole sentences made up of funny words. You may not think it sounds fun, but trust me: it is. Here's an example: (can you figure out what this sentence is asking?)

"Would you like to accompany me to the local noshery for a mug of perk and a soft, moist baked good with traces of azure antioxidant-bearing fruit?"

OR:

"Honey, where's the tether? Our canine needs a stroll. He needs to relieve his bowels al fresco, or he might end up relieving them on the wall-to-wall."

See? This game is hilarious!! I knew you'd think so. Now you'll never be able to live another day without at least noticing all the funny words that you encounter in life. If you think of a good one, let me know! I also encourage you to work funny words into your everyday speech. Sure, people might laugh and point, but the joke's on them.

Next topic: my life. Hmmm, what can I tell you about my life? I'm living at home again, with my parents. I thought it would be more traumatic than it's been. But maybe that's just because I know that it's only temporary. I've been taking a kickboxing class, which is super fun. I like exercising, but for me workouts that have some sort of practical application are way more fun than say, running on a treadmill. I doubt that in my lifetime someone will put a gun to my head and force me to run at level 10 on a treadmill, but someone actually might attack me. And now, if I get attacked, I'm ready. Also, punching and kicking a bag is very very taxing and, I assume, excellent cardio. Plus if you're like me (brimming with anger and hatred), it's a great stress-reliever! We're going to install our own punching bag in the basement of Dagwood's so that my Dad and I can get more practice outside of class. Once I get more comfortable with kickboxing, I plan to start taking Karate too. I love martial arts. I think that practicing martial arts is one of the most beneficial things you can ever do for yourself: body, mind, and soul. I studied Aikido for about nine months and now I'm ready to start Karate.

What else is new with me? TV sucks these days... I'm really hoping the writers get what they want soon, but at this point, the TV year is pretty much ruined. What's with Medium showing three episodes and then going off the air for four weeks? Come on Medium, this is our time of need! I've started watching October Road recently. It's pretty good. It's part ED, part 90210, with a dash of Gilmore Girls and a pinch of hope.

I wish I had some dirty secrets to tell, but I'm just way to boring for that. I love you all, dearly.

I'm making a sad face.

I watched "True Life: I Support My Family" today. I know, that was my first mistake. It just made me realize, though, that some people have real problems. Unique's mother killed herself and Unique had no choice but to become the legal guardian for her three siblings (otherwise they would've ended up in foster care). She made $350 a week and had to pay the mortgage and the bills, not to mention the money she spent on groceries and clothing. Oh yeah, and one of her little sisters was five months pregnant, too. I don't know. There's probably no point in even writing about this, except that watching the show made me feel incredibly spoiled. Talk about spoiled! Let's move on to another show I catch on occasion...The Real Housewives of Orange County. This week, Tamra's husband Simon bought her a $40,000 diamond-encrusted Rolex watch. Tamra's reaction? "It's even cuter than my other one!!" Hmmm. And then, one of the other housewives, Vicki, spent an entire mini-segment bitching about how she was older than Tamra, yet she didn't have a Rolex. "I want a Rolex," she repeatedly said. "Where's my Rolex?" And, in the segment before that Vicki was bitching about her husband and saying that sometimes she wishes she was single. That's just a mean thing to say when you know your husband is going to end up watching the show. God. They should put all the Housewives in a room and make them watch every sad episode of True Life and Intervention, plus any documentary about Anorexia, Cancer, Huntington's Disease, Famine, War, and shows about how when we die, nothing happens.

Fat people are harder to kidnap.

I went to my first ever Weight Watchers meeting. I know Weight Watchers is a positive organization and all, but it's hard to sit through a meeting with a straight face. It's like AA for fatties. They give out key chains instead of newcomer chips. I just keep praying my group leader doesn't make me bring home the "WOW" tool belt and give a presentation about my weight loss tricks and tips (you take the tool belt home for a week and fill it with things that help you stay 'clean,' like low-cal recipes and string cheese. String cheese is a Godsend, by the way). Props to those who volunteer to take home the tool belt. If I did, though, it would just sit crumpled in my closet staring at me like a homeless, underfed kitten or a little boy whose parents are too busy decorating the house and polishing their diamonds to play with him. I'm not knocking Weight Watchers, though. I don't think I'm "too good" for Weight Watchers, if that's what you're thinking. I wish I could be more objective about it all. I just can't. It's like when you go to the movies and some supposed-to-be-funny-but-really-actually-ridiculously-unfunny bit plays out on screen and a few people in the theater (or maybe more than a few) erupt in uproarious uncontrollable laughter. Whenever that happens, I think, how on earth can someone think that's funny enough to laugh out loud at? And that's what strikes me as funny. Then again, maybe I'm just missing out on all the fun. Maybe I'm just a bitch. Weight Watchers is good, though. I'm eating less these days. Now when I go out to eat, I just eat one fourth of my burger and everything is fine. Everything is fine. Now just a teaspoon or so of ice cream satisfies me. No joke! Like, if I was addicted to heroin, I'd be good with like...just a squirt of the stuff, not a whole syringe full. And it doesn't feel like punishment when I go to Applebee's and have to order one of the select few dishes that have Weight Watchers points attached to them (and very cheerful names, like confetti chicken--I guess the word "confetti" is supposed to have a party-in-my-mouth sort of an effect). When I was filling out my Weight Watchers paperwork, I should've have checked 'Yes' when they asked, 'Would you like a weekly supportive phone call?' I checked 'No and now my phone never rings and the only thing that soothes me is chili cheese Fritos. Why, God?