come sit next to me/pour yourself some tea _____________

Ducks and stuff

lolzies...

I am bored and need to kill another 45 minutes at work, and I've run out of things to do and look at on the interweb, so I might as well blog.

I have nothing to say.

For Christmas, I received all 5 seasons of Alias. They came in the Rambaldi cube! It is quite awesome, especially because I never saw the first couple episodes, and there's a big chunk of season 4 that I missed because of dang orgo lab. I watched 3 episodes on Wednesday night, including two kick-arse episodes with Quentin Tarantino, and I was going to turn it off, but then I realized the next episode was the very first one with Sark! <33 So I watched 4 episodes that evening. I think I've averaged around 3 episodes each viewing... "Play all" is a dangerous selection to make on the menu.

Due to all my Alias watching, I've become a little paranoid. There are spies and ex-KGB and K Directorate operatives and eastern European assassins and international nuclear arms dealers lurking amongst us. Well you know what they say, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.

Through my window I see two men talking, partially hidden in the shadows. They look suspicious. I wonder what's in that guy's bags.

~~Sometimes~~ All the time, when I'm walking down the street and I pass people's houses/apartments, if I can see through people's windows, I like to take a look. Not like hide in their bushes and trees and closets with binoculars look, but like just take a glance, examine their decor, see if there's anything interesting going on. My New Year's resolution: be less creepy. Just kidding. It's really to get better bincoculars.

I assembled a nightstand. I hate hammering nails because I get so scared that I'm going to hammer my precious thumb. So I usually start hammering a little holding the nail and then I stop holding the nail and hammer it in without holding the nail straight so then some nails get all bent. =*(

This morning I had to go to a rally/celebration/rock concert/free food/dance party for Nancy Pelosi. Naturally, everyone in the room was a Democrat. I am registered as a Republican (though I voted against Santorum) bwahhhaaha. I think most people at work are enthusiastically Democrat. In fact, I felt like I had to disclose my party registration after a few months of working here. I am glad I wasn't fired.

I've been thinking about changing my registration to "independent" because I've never particularly identified with Republicans, and I don't necessarily want to affiliate myself with the Democratic party. However, there are two cons to switching:
1. Can't vote in primaries
2. I'm too lazy

This has been a long post! That's all for now. As DMX once sagely said, "Thugs don't do flip-flops."

toothpastefordinner.com

Have you ever heard a song that has a really great tune and you thought it was a light and innocent song...until you actually paid attention to the lyrics? So I've been listening to Regina Spektor's "Hotel Song" a lot lately. It's such a cute-sounding song, and I've just been bopping along to it when I hear it. What's not to love? The fun tune, the background "ah-ha-ha"s, lines about orca whales and whatnot. There's this one part where I couldn't quite make out what she was saying. Because of the syllables she emphasizes, it sounded like:

I lit a bag of poop then
I lit a bag of poop then

Of course, those can't be the words -- even if they were, they don't make sense. To make sense the words "on fire" should be in there somewhere (a la Billy Madison). But I just kept singing along to my made-up lyrics when I listened to the song. So yesterday I thought maybe I should actually look at the cd booklet thing to see what she's actually singing. It turns out that in that seemingly benign ditty, Regina is actually singing;

A little bag of cocaine
A little bag of cocaine

That really changes the whole atmosphere of the song for me. I should have known from the title "Hotel Song." :(

I'm blogging while I'm at work! That's right, folks, I live dangerously.

In other news, should I just let this site breathe its final breaths and just die peacefully, or continue to revive it out of its coma every several months, only to kill it slowly with neglect again? I don't even write anything of substance anymore...or ever have.

You know what I hate? When you're wearing socks, and you get one sock wet by, say, stepping onto a bath mat you didn't know was wet, so you're left with one wet sock and one dry sock. So then you have to decide whether to A.) stick it out and just keep wearing the wet sock until it dries, or B.) take off the wet sock and put on another dry sock. But B.) then creates another problem because then you're wearing a dry sock from the pair you put on earlier and a dry sock that comes from a different pair of socks, so the other sock from that pair of socks is left unpaired. What do you do with that lone sock?? All the other socks are paired! (I guess you could have a third option, C.) take off both the wet sock and dry sock and remain barefoot until tomorrow, when you get to change into a new pair socks, but with the colder weather, that's not a good option.) Going back to the lone sock- you could just keep that lone sock in the drawer until the next time you do laundry, and then re-pair that lone sock with the previously wet, now clean and dry, sock. However, if you're not doing laundry for a while, you'll be haunted with the knowledge that there's an unpaired sock lurking in the drawer, just sitting there all useless and increasing entropy in the universe. Plus, there's a chance that your improvised "pair" of socks doesn't match. Here's where a fourth option comes in: D.) take off both socks and change into a new pair of dry socks. Not a perfect solution, because then you know there's a perfectly dry sock in the laundry basket that didn't get a full day's use. But the wet sock's functionality also ended prematurely, so that evens out. Therefore D.) is the best choice, and so I changed both socks.

You are

What Rejected Crayon Are You?

My favorite part of going to Costco is eating all the free food samples. I went with my mom on Saturday, and it was around noon, which means all kinds of culinary delight. If you've never been to Costco, they have all these carts with samples of whatever they feel like displaying, manned by employees in hair nets who prepare the food (i.e. microwave if necessary, put in the little paper cups, stick toothpicks in) and yell facts about the food they are serving. So on Saturday, there was dried fruit, dumplings, some kind of chicken steak, vanilla ice cream with brownies, orange juice, and real pineapple slices. After eating all the different samples, we were pretty full. It's nice when there's enough food to constitute an entire meal.

It's also very fun to be a part of the crowds swarming around the food samples. People from all walks of life line up in front of the carts - elderly people, pregnant housewives, large men, small children - everyone's eyes glistening with gluttony. When a particular food sample isn't ready yet, you can walk around and pretend to be looking at the items on display nearby, but there's something rather liberating about abandoning your pride and just waiting eagerly near a cart where the food is not ready yet, holding your place in line. My dad, in bourgeois scorn, used to refuse to wait in line if the food wasn't ready, because he thought it was stupid and foolish-looking to do so, but last summer I caught him humbly standing in line just like the rest of us. Ha!

My mom decided to buy a pineapple because the samples of fresh pineapple tasted so good. Now, a real pineapple is not exactly a common grocery item, but when we were at the register, at each of the four or five lanes to the right and left of us, at the moment we were paying, there was a pineapple sitting on the conveyer belt!! Good job, Costco, now that's mad business skills.

I just wanted to share something I encountered during my mcrap studies. I was doing a practice test the other day, and there was a biology passage that made me laugh so hard, mainly because the mcat is the least funny thing around. The only things that are less humorous than the mcat would be maybe kittens and puppies dying, or slow torture performed by a sadisticpsychodentist, or the show "Joey." I want to write out the whole passage, but I'm paranoid about imprisonment over copyright issues. Here's a brief outline and some direct quotes instead:

"Sarah, a scientist from New Orleans, takes two-week vacations to different location every year to experience new sports."

The first year she goes to the Caribbean to go "skin diving." She notes an elevated pulse and ventilation rate, but they are no longer elevated by the third time she goes diving. She tans.

Another year she goes skiing in Colorado, and she observes crazy things happening in terms of heart and breathing rates again, and her appetite and caloric intake go up, but she doesn't gain weight.

Here are the final 2 paragraphs:

"Sarah calculated the actual work that she performed skiing and diving. There was not enough difference in the work performed to account for the observed difference in appetite; although the physical work of diving and skiing was approximately equal and she ate more calories during the ski trip, she did not gain any weight.

On a third vacation, Sarah had a serious accident while playing sports."

That's it! That's how it ends! I thought it was so hilarious because they really painted a vivid picture of Sarah, the vacationing, extreme-sports playing, unnecessary calculations making, tan science lady from the south, and then bam in one sentence she has a serious accident, the end. She really seemed like someone who embraced life, and she made some good observations about her cardiac and ventilation rates, as well as her caloric intake, and in one fell swoop, she's gone. They don't even say what sports she was playing. Her bold vacationing days are over, and they don't care to elaborate further. They expect us to then calmly go on to answer questions about why those changes occurred, but all I want to do is find out what happened to Sarah! Did she die? Will she recover and go on to play more extreme sports, as well as be an excellent scientist, in defiance of Larry Summers? It is revealed later in one of the questions, though, that she suffered muscle and kidney damage. Kidney damage?? Ouch... But I'm relieved Sarah is alive. I wrote way too much on this, when I could probably be studying. I'm probably the only one who even finds this funny. I guess you had to be taking a practice mcat to find this funny. The rest of the test is very bleak and harsh. Okay, off to bed (!)

One of my roommates has a bag of this foodstuff called "Bagel Crisps." They are basically thin slices of toasted bagels, and they are quite delicious. The bag boasts that the Bagel Crisps are now "Tender and Lighter!" I thought that was kind of interesting, because are the makers of Bagel Crisps saying that their product is now more Bagel Crisp than it was before? Yes, they used to be tender and light, but now they are more crunch for your buck! Because the way it's worded, the shards of bagel are now "more light"...and "more tend." The phrase still makes sense on its own, of course- perhaps the Bagel Crisps were never tender, but were always rather light. Now they are reached a higher level of light, and have arrived at basic tenderness. I wonder, then, if their newfound tenderness is due to the upgraded lightness. What if the geniuses who concocted this brilliant snack idea find a way to make them even MORE tender and light?? "New! More Tender [Tenderer?] and Even More Lighter!" That would just be crazy! I think they've got the lightness part covered. Although, when I eat these lovely Bagel Crisps, I don't "tend" (LOL!) to think of them as particularly tender. Tender just seems like a weird word to describe bagels and bagel products. The more I think about it, the grosser a word it is.

Ducks and stuff

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