It's a nice day to start again.

A friend of mine has apparently decided to get himself all ministered up from the Universal Life Church. You know, from the back of Rolling Stone fame. How a variety of television weddings wind up being performed by main characters (Chris in the Morning, Joey marrying Chandler and Monica, etc.). That church.

Here's the conversation Tiff and I had after she informed me of this.
me: So, what you're saying is, if I ever get married, Richard can perform the ceremony? SWEET!
Tiff: yes, he will be able to...and you could probably pay him in booze...
me: done and done. And, while I'm never a fan of the Richard facial hair, I think it would be hilarious to be married by an old-timily made up Richard, n'est-ce pas?
Tiff: it would, yes...especially if he talked old-timey, too...
me: hee. Like an old-timey sports announcer, or auctioneer.
Tiff: or a newsreel reader...
me: heh. What an awesome wedding I'm going to have.

Turn to the left!

More brilliant Project Runway analyses.
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I like bitchy beardface--I know! And I loved him pouting in the corner when the guy who was all "oh, just give it Santino" won.
And I totally want that Barbie. But you knew that, right?
I hate Marla, but I think my Barbie had that dress. She's got a son about our age, doesn't she?
Also, I totally would have LOVED a Barbie with Arguey McCryface's bubble skirt.
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I really love the nerdy girl. As the designers walked out of Toys R Us clutching their "muses", I turned to Melissa and said, "That's probably like the first Barbie that girl's ever had."
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I hate Kara, too. I want that bitch GONE. I'm so mad she took Andrae's spot in the top 5!
Also, they totally just chose Daniel V's (dude, he was a GYMNAST and you're gaydar didn't go off?) b/c it had flowers. Plus, to quote Melissa, "Michael Kors totally wants to have Daniel V's children."
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punk ass snow gnomes

Saturday afternoon work boredom = cleaning my email outbox.
I don't remember the context of the titular phrase at all, so don't bother asking. It was an email to Tiff, so it probably didn't make that much sense at the time, either.
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Okay, so I read "The Gospel According to Larry", which is basically Adbusters in novel form, so I'm reading the sequel, where he runs for president in a not-un-Nader-like move. Mostly somewhat irritating, esp how Larry's still in love with his unrequited HS best friend (who's basically a normal girl with radical views) while he's got this rockin' new gf (who's basically us, but also doesn't speak on Mondays, for some kind of protest--see why this book is annoying?). So anyway, there's this one thing that I don't think is supposed to be funny so much as point out how different Beth and Janine (new girl, of course, has the better name as well) are, but I was cracking up. Like, Sars cracking up. Janine puts on her fake fur coat to leave, and in a footnote we're told that she's thrown red paint on her fake fur coat, in a jokey reference to PETA. Now, why didn't I ever think of that!?!?
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"Julio, excited yet relaxed, grinned back and played like he was Kenny G."
Couch is in 5 piece, not 500. Progress!
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So are you my neighbor now, or what?
If you can fake a British accent, you can be my neighbour.
If you're Natalie Imbrulia, you can be on Neighbours.
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Also, Puff is super-fucking-awesome. Did I mention that it takes place around Boston in the 70s? During a snow storm? And it's about 2 stoner brothers who masquerade as Red Cross dealies to get to the last available bag of pot in town? I highly recommend!
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OK, so I was totally internally mocking your whole shorts thing (sorry, sweetie), but then I found myself thinking about a picnic this morning, and, in my picnic fantasy, I was wearing chucks and shorts of that very-now length. And possibly my tube top, but that's a whole other kettle of fish.
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I had the best spring weekend. Most of it involved sitting on my balcony and popsicles (the red white and blue kind), but also a library book sale ($2 for a grocery bag o' books, including classics such as A Day at LBJ Ranch and a book on mind-altering drugs from 1968 with an amazing cover) and Sin City.
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step 1: ask to be their friendster
step 2: once you've amassed several possible boys, send out a bulletin on one of the following subjects: beer, comic books, or whether or not boys actually find Paris Hilton attractive. Conversation ensues, force a meeting, and Bob's your uncle: makin' out.
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My favorite thing about Barely Legal (the print version, at least) is the text: so clearly designed for shifty, barely employed 40 year olds who live next door to 9th graders. My absolute favorite ridiculous porn photo (have I told you this story yet?) comes from my good ol' assfaced gay xroomie Ken, who used to read Barely Legal style magazines despite being barely legal himself. There was a picture of a young man in pj pants, standing next to a breakfast table, all laid out with a bowl of brightly colored cereal. Normal, right? Yeah, but how many guys do you know who stand next to their cereal with their dick hanging out?
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Oh! I was driving to Target the other day and I heard, I think, Spacehog on the radio. They did that "In the Meantime" song, or whatever it was called, no? I couldn't believe it. I laughed and laughed.
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Didja notice my MySpace Galaxie 500-related name change? You know it's summer when I'm lieing (I fucking hate trying to spell that word) around listening to Dean sing about breaking shit, being fired, and/or his crotch.
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So, is it so wrong that I'm still attracted to Ben McKenzie, mustache and all?
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"Do you have, uh, one a them sheets, um, where like the dates of the clubs are?"
"You mean a calendar? They're over there."
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That's good. I'm glad you got your money, and didn't have to resort to singing ODB at your boss.
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Jeff Buckley's cover of "Hallelujah" is playing on my internet radio thing right now. I do so love that song, but I was a bit confused, b/c I thought I had hit play on the Motown station.
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He looks so much older...and kinda scary. Like the professor whose classes you skipped, and then you ran into at the liquor store and he yelled at you in front of the cheap whiskey. Or you hid behind the wine display to avoid him.
Also kind of like the poet guy in Auntie Mame. I was trying to find a picture online, but couldn't.
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He looks like the bad guy in an MST3K movie with that beard. Like he should have some half-assed "British" accent.
Ello, ow are ooo?
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There sure are a lot of ugly people in your neighborhood.

more emails.
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In Jessy-is-easy news, I spent a good part of last night using my feminine wiles to attempt to get rid of my massive library fines. And found another greasy hipster in town [who I’ve never seen again, I might add], and was staring unabashedly. And I believe he was staring back. So I now, according to Melissa, have a 401K and stock options.
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Oh, I'm so not a grown up. That's why I work with teenagers: I have the maturity level of one of them. Except the above 11yrold #$@&, of course.
At least they've found the Ripley's Believe It Or Not book, and are no longer "accidentally" falling off the chairs.
I try to only pull the young professional card when it's absolutely neccessary, like when my apartment manager shows the building to new potential landlords. Look, I try to say, what an amazing tenant I make! Hopefully, they're blind to the fact that I'm unshowered and in pajamas on my balcony at 3PM on a Saturday, clutching the new Harry Potter. Or, you know, they're distracted by the mold on the wall. Whatever means I don't have to move.
I found a picture of you in your prom gown the other day, so I put it on my wall.
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1. Is it wrong of me to consider changing my Friendster profile to "in a relationship", even though I'm never ever on Friendster anymore, even though, despite not being ambilvalent about who I'm in this relationship with, I'm slightly weird about the phrase (if only I could just put "has a boyfriend" instead--I fucking hate semantics--that's a lie...), just because I know Andy still uses it and might perhaps see the change? What would I even do with his knowing? Guh!?
2. …
3. Today's Euphemism, from Billboard: "[Tim] Armstrong shows his affection for the Clash" or something to that effect.
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He changed his first. Is it just me, or is the prase "in a relationship" so much more serious than "I have a boyfriend", or even "I have a monogamous boyfriend that I really care about and would like to be with for awhile"? Why does the first one sound so grown up? But, you know, I really like him, and technically I am, so I figured why not change the damn thing?
I need book recs. No cable and all.
1. anything I mention on my blog, obviously.
2. most of the things I mention on my MySpace outfit log
3. Holly Black
4. Looking for Alaska
5. Geography Club
6. read Rainbow Boys and tell me what you think: I'm ambivalent
7. new Nick Hornby
8. Sunshine by Robin McKinley (vampires, snark, and baked goods--I think this book was written specifically for me)
I bought a very cheap digital camera last night. Check out my new MySpace picture, as I'm wearing an indescribable and yet cute shirt I got from the Urban Outfitters clearance rack.

I’m just like Eminem: I can clean out my closet too.

(some things I found in my sent email folder that I figured could stand in for that long post I haven’t been bothered to write in several weeks—do I need to say that I have no idea what I’m talking about in most of these?)

There's a crying child over by the videos, and I just signed a computer up for someone named after a spice.
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ran.
dom.
I had no idea.
Today, I told some kids that there would be punch and pie at a program. I don't think they caught the joke.
Of course, later, a regular squeed all over me about Good Omens, then let me go on about Blue Monday: In Between Days, and actually checked the damn thing out.
Hurrah!
Leading, as it always does, to the question: what happens in 10 years that the 14yrolds love me, but the 25yrolds who were the 14yrolds have their sights on boring girls?
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(oh, and I just had to “undo borderline” in Microsoft Word, so now Madonna’s stuck in my head. Feels like I’m going to lose my mind. You just keep on pushing my love over the borderline.)

MySpace.
'nother person refusing a hold. which I really don't get, you know: it takes me, like 2 seconds, and then you're guaranteed the book. wtf?
Also annoyed b/c the woman walked over to the circ desk to ask if we had, not 30 seconds after i asked if she needed any help.
grrr

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only a prayer group saved you, you know, and I'd think you wouldn't joke about it after all you've been through, missy.
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You're welcome to come to 80s night here, sweetie. Less Smiths, but still a good time.
Monday, I discovered, is $2 well drink night at Hammerheads. I'm working on a new maxim, something like, If you drank too much gin the night before, that's the day the town bully throws the town somewhat effeminate kid's bike and bike lock in 2 separate trees.
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So I think I may have put my foot in my mouth several times last night, but you know how I stop paying attention to things after about the 2nd gin'n'tonic...
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So, is it so wrong that I'm still attracted to Ben McKenzie, mustache and all?
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And everybody should contact me, because I've been really witty lately, if I do say so myself.
Or something.