Creepatron's Journals

Thought of the Day

Stop rooting for the underdog. Sometimes he's 'under' for a reason.

Title

I got a ridiculous amount of things done this weekend, and while I like feeling productive, the feeling is relatively limited since everything accomplished was related to personal health, beauty, or hygiene in some way. Hair cut and coloured (you can't tell but I spent 2 and a half hours having it foiled. Foiling is the delicate process whereby your stylist sandwiches pieces of your hair in between the popular food storage product to hightlight it and you sit for two and a half hours under a 60's Star Trek era dryer), pedicure (foisting your ugly feet onto delicate Asian women while sitting in a massage chair called, I kid you not, 'The Hummer'), eyebrow wax (tolerable, acceptable pain). When you let all these things pile up you've got to get them done in one day otherwise you loose the momentum and get so distracted by one or the other.

I followed this up (the next day) with some serious shoe shopping and the acquisition of some expensive eyeliner/shadow/lipgloss. Now I can finally be hip.

I learned a lot about shoes in the time I spent at the store. Apparently, the new style is no longer the pointed toe that was adequate for looking like you were going to stab a foe in the shin or shank a bitch, now it is the new abbreviated toe that looks like you have recently been amputated (40's style!) combined with the always uncomfortable stick thin heel. You've got to break the shoe in just as much as you've got to break YOURSELF in to the shoe--you know, cell memory, contortion, all that.

That style is what I am sporting today because, well, no pain no gain, and I've been wearing the samn damn pair of black heels for nearly a year and they're falling apart. I figured a new pair of shoes would help improve my poise and grace but I'm pretty sure they're just causing me to lurch around.

I finally took them off while everyone is at lunch and no one is around. I hate people who dont' wear shoes in public places. It's so weird and gross, pedicure aside.

Alright, lunchie munchies. Time for my desert island fave.

Here is Why I'm Cool

Hear me out, because I know you have had one of these moments and can't deny it.

Spent the evening on a 'date' with good good friend, saw Skeleton Key (go see it so I can talk about the ending with you! I was shocked! Surprised! Etc!), ate good pizza, watched Adult Swim.

On the way home in my mother's zippy little car, busting through the windy/hilly roads in the dark at way too fast, scanning the stations hit 'Sweet Home Alabama.' The instinct: crank it up, open the windows, blast the heat, sing and dance along.

And I did.

God it feels good being this awesome. Sometimes all you need is a little Skynard to put the life back into you.

SEXY NAKED ADVENTURES!! ;););)

Now that I've got your attention...

My employer is matching Red Cross donations two to one for the next
thirty days. If you'd like to add money to my donation to help
take advantage of the match, contact me and we'll work something
out. Thanks!

Everything is ok.

So I was going to upload some new photos to go along with this but the system is down. This probably has something to do with New Orleans or a storm or global warming or something but either way it is inconvenient to me and that's what's really important.

I had my first three hour 7:20-10:00 class. This shit is EXHAUSTING. Especially when I know I'm going to have to get up early tomorrow for work. Especially when it's Macroeconomics. The teacher looks like Thomas Dolby except without the awesome hair--has that nerdy thing about him where you know he became a professor to push frat boys around (and if not exclusively for that reason, considers it the #1 fringe benefit). He also has that weird mountain climbing nerd attire to him with the hiking boots and the clothes that are so large you know exactly what they look like naked. Don't ask me how it works, but it does. Maybe I'm just too busy picturing people naked.

Worked my way through the first section of my Arabic workbook and I'm feeling pretty confident. Practicing those letters makes me feel like someone is crushing my larynx, but I feel like I'm reading and writing pretty well so far. This semester is all about writing/reading/recognizing sounds, we're not really going to be learning any real words. Except for ba'ab. That means door. I know that much. Or wait, is it a'ab? Shit, I guess I don't know.

If there's anything I can say about school: being able to come back after a class to an apartment worth of things that are mine, privacy, space, etc, is great. Really really worth it. That little white box, no matter what you did, was so demoralizing and I didn't even realize it. Which reminds me, I have to pay rent tomorrow. Eek.

Final Thought Before I Go to Bed: Green Day, take off some damn makeup. Seriously.

School. Again.

I have been going to school consecutively for 14 years, or the better part of my life. And I have to say, I'm damn tired of it. Today, classes begain again and I will have my face rocked by syllabii and assignments and commuting and parking and professors and students and all that other associated bullshit. I will be a junior in college for those who are not up to speed. It sucks. I'm tired of it. I also haven't come to terms with the fact that school really does start tomorrow. It is all so surreal.

This weekend has gone without accomplishing anything major, and has generally be going pretty slow. Tonight I finally got around to pimping out the gerbil cage and adding a bunch of tubes and new levels. Unfortunately, the new tubes didn't match exactly onto the old tubes, so copious amounts of duct tape was utilitzed and nothing is quite as steady as I'd hoped. They haven't gotten around to adventuring the new areas, but they are awesome and I am proud. I hope their curiousity will get the best of them because it's damn bogus having this beastly new tube set up there without any love in it. Cleaning it is also going to be a pain in the ass.

I also wanted to clean and straighten up in here which I never got around to. Maybe tomorrow night. Paging all people who know about makeup: wtf do you have to use to get that dark smoky eye that all the girls are sporting nowadays? I keep trying to do the dual-black-eye look but I can't find a product that looks right. Someone fill me in!

So that's it. This is a super boring entry, but I have been super boring lately.

Stolen Quotes (again!)

But what do I know. I had long conversations about Islam and Christianity with cabbies in DC, and they always ended with happy faces and salaam and go in peace. I’ve no doubt millions and millions of Muslims are content to let the Christians go about their errant path, content that in the end a just God will say okay, you crazy lug, you’re in. Just as millions of Christians are willing to say Koran, Shmoran, you’re just and upright and believe in the One Big Guy, meet you at the Old Country Buffet in the sky. Bacon bits on my side, hummus on yours, whatever. But when you have your Clash of Civilizations, people retreat. MOOOON GODDDD! Oh yeah? Cough up the dhimmi tax, kaffir!

The point is not to get to that point. We are seriously need in live-and-let-live juice applied globally by aerosol spray, the sort of thing that makes people swallow big chunky doctrinal differences and concentrate simply on the idea of a God who is out of the smiting business for the time being. Take that as your daily verse: smite not. And the first one who says “but” gets sent howling down to hell? Smite not. Tomorrow, smite we might. After a day of not smiting we might actually refocus and agree who is smite-worthy, who truly profanes God’s gifts. But today? Smite-free.

I love the idea of "live-and-let-live juice"! Additionally, the idea of an interstellar aerosol can makes me giggle. Stolen from lileks.com

General Jitters

When I was little, my dad used to take me to school (instead of taking the bus which I unhappily rode in the afternoons), and often we would go to breakfast. In our old old house closer to the city, pre-third grade we used to frequent Kip's (ironic!), an oldschool diner which probably began my diner obsession. Subsequent diner love continued into middle school in the new old house when we went to Minella's and often Starbucks as well. I look back on these days fondly, often wondering how they were even possible for me to get up early enough to make them work. He still drove me to school for the first two years of high school before they gave me a car, but by that time I was too old to get up properly for morning breakfasts and needed to be arriving by at least 7:25am, a time that I believe was devised specifically to torture.

Sidebar: Can you imagine anything in the real world starting at 7:30 other than POTENTIALLY a commute? I can't. People around here don't start trickling in until 9 at best.

Anyway, that initially paragraph was somewant of a tangeant to what I was getting at, which was it wasn't until I was high school and the too cool fucking hip place to be was a coffee bar that I initiated my love for lattes (with three packets of Equal or Splenda if available). Foamy, thick, and rich, they made me quiver (literally) and kept me up all night after curfew. I've gradually had to scale back my coffee and cigarette consumption since then with increasingly less money to spend on little treats like Starbucks mornings (can't get up early enough still, either).

Today, however, I indulged. I should have sooner, really, it's so worth it and I'm an idiot for perpetually forgetting there is a Starbucks right up the street. Grande latte, two packets of splenda, and a butter croissant have kept me exceptionally jittery, on edge, not hungry, and running to the bathroom. I inherited from my mother an extreme sensitivity to caffine wherein I often feel the effects of it hours and hours after having actually drank the damn thing (example: drank latte at 10, now feeling crazy antsy at 2:30). People don't believe me, but it's true.

Anyway, I figure I need to take lunch sometime but I'm having trouble figuring if it's even worth it or even what I want or where to go. Again with the ants in the pants.

Email Messiness

Dear Colleague:

Who represents and fight for the rights of business to innovate and consumers to enjoy technology?

Who works to bring some 140,000 people together to learn, share and engage – all in the name of technology advancement and commerce?

Who works for an industry that creates products that can protect, unite, entertain, inform, connect and teach?

You do. And for that, I thank you.

Please join me and the entire executive team Friday, November 18, 2005, at the [someplace fancy], as we celebrate you – and our joint success over the past year. Cocktails will begin at 6:30 p.m., with dinner and dancing to follow.

Save the date! Please extend this invitation to your spouse, significant other or an adult guest Look for your formal invitation to the Gratitude Gala later next month.

With utmost gratitude,

[CEO Name]

Now I gots to find me a hunky gigalo to take to this shindig. Excellent.

Suspicious Start

Somehow I managed to get all the way to work this morning without realized I had actually left AN HOUR EARLIER THAN NECESSARY and then therefore arrived an hour earlier than scheduled. I just now realized that I skipped a step in my wake up process. The alarm goes off at 7:45, I reset for 8:45, and then snooze until 9:15. I missed the important re-set, which means I ended up here way earlier than necessary without even thinking about it. I looked at the clock a bajillion times in the car, but generally I'm only concerned with the minutes so I probably didn't even look at the hour or didn't believe what I saw.

God damn. I'm tired.