The lion is an angel. No, really.
Waiting for the Daily Show and Colbert Report after paying half attention to the debate. (Spent the other half of my attention divided between the exercise bike and balancing my checkbook/scheduling payments.)
It's been one of those lonely, mood-swinging, too-busy, insecure days. I've dealt, I'm dealing, I've got my endorphins up!
So, brain dumping happy things...
Watched Beauty and the Beast last night. Not that one; this one. It was one of the staples of my childhood and actually held up fairly well... at least compared to Puss in Boots, which was strongly in the running for Best Worst Movie Evah! (Seriously, people, there is no better drinking game in the making than Walken as a cat.) B&B didn't make me cringe or mock as much (even if everyone in it is pathetic in one way or another), although that could conceivably be contributed to the fact that I watched it alone as opposed to having a sarcastic equal at my side. It was filmed in Israel, which was unexpected, and I will say that I had forgotten how ridiculously the men dressed. The prince reminded me of He-Man... if He-Man was a cupcake.
Mmmm, cake.
Also, email.
I cannot tell you how glad I am to see my spam mail finally start promoting men buying vibrators for their women. Because, let's face it, all that "grow your schlong!" stuff is crap and you and your rampant insecurities will never satisfy her that way. I think this ad has it right for once. Try asking her what she wants for a change instead of just assuming that you know; she's going to want a Rabbit.
Then imagine my amazement to open up my inbox this morning and see the subject line "I owe you an apology" from the ASTROLOGER of all people! I didn't even know she was real! I thought it was all fake and for entertainment! Apparently she constructed my weekly chart based on the wrong day so, Stacey, if you want a forecast for the next week I can totally hook you up. I'm still not buying anything from her ever, however, no matter how much she apologizes. She's careless; I can't trust her. ::sniff::
And maybe money can't buy happiness, but I'd sure like to take my shot at it. Just let me try! Money can certainly buy things that would make me happy. I keep restricting my activities over and over again because of money or lack thereof, and it's getting a little frustrating. Make plans; get kicked in the financial teeth. Rinse, repeat.
Why do people (and by "people" I mean "men") persist in telling me about their finances? And they're random strange men too, complete strangers. Do I look as if I can just make money rain down from the sky and I'm in the market for a kept man? Alternatively, do I look like just the person to be handing out the most awesome financial advice ever? I'm a 20-something female with bad skin and frizzy, unkempt hair wandering around in gaudy business casual. Nothing about me particularly screams wealth or quality. So, male-people, you need to rethink your plan.
I don't miss the stress of classes, but I miss the social interaction.
Finally (because Jon's on!), here's a question for you: If basketball, football, and baseball are all one word, why is soccer ball two words?
It's been one of those lonely, mood-swinging, too-busy, insecure days. I've dealt, I'm dealing, I've got my endorphins up!
So, brain dumping happy things...
Watched Beauty and the Beast last night. Not that one; this one. It was one of the staples of my childhood and actually held up fairly well... at least compared to Puss in Boots, which was strongly in the running for Best Worst Movie Evah! (Seriously, people, there is no better drinking game in the making than Walken as a cat.) B&B didn't make me cringe or mock as much (even if everyone in it is pathetic in one way or another), although that could conceivably be contributed to the fact that I watched it alone as opposed to having a sarcastic equal at my side. It was filmed in Israel, which was unexpected, and I will say that I had forgotten how ridiculously the men dressed. The prince reminded me of He-Man... if He-Man was a cupcake.
Mmmm, cake.
Also, email.
I cannot tell you how glad I am to see my spam mail finally start promoting men buying vibrators for their women. Because, let's face it, all that "grow your schlong!" stuff is crap and you and your rampant insecurities will never satisfy her that way. I think this ad has it right for once. Try asking her what she wants for a change instead of just assuming that you know; she's going to want a Rabbit.
Then imagine my amazement to open up my inbox this morning and see the subject line "I owe you an apology" from the ASTROLOGER of all people! I didn't even know she was real! I thought it was all fake and for entertainment! Apparently she constructed my weekly chart based on the wrong day so, Stacey, if you want a forecast for the next week I can totally hook you up. I'm still not buying anything from her ever, however, no matter how much she apologizes. She's careless; I can't trust her. ::sniff::
And maybe money can't buy happiness, but I'd sure like to take my shot at it. Just let me try! Money can certainly buy things that would make me happy. I keep restricting my activities over and over again because of money or lack thereof, and it's getting a little frustrating. Make plans; get kicked in the financial teeth. Rinse, repeat.
Why do people (and by "people" I mean "men") persist in telling me about their finances? And they're random strange men too, complete strangers. Do I look as if I can just make money rain down from the sky and I'm in the market for a kept man? Alternatively, do I look like just the person to be handing out the most awesome financial advice ever? I'm a 20-something female with bad skin and frizzy, unkempt hair wandering around in gaudy business casual. Nothing about me particularly screams wealth or quality. So, male-people, you need to rethink your plan.
I don't miss the stress of classes, but I miss the social interaction.
Finally (because Jon's on!), here's a question for you: If basketball, football, and baseball are all one word, why is soccer ball two words?