One big highlight for the year (and in my life I guess) was starting my new job, which is actually sort of on track for my life. Ever the wavering and terrible decision-maker, I've wrestled with the whole "what do I want to be when I grow up?" thing for years and now I finally feel like I'm headed down an ok-ish road. It makes me cackle to think about what a pathetic position I was in this time last year. A lot has changed. Hip Hip Hooray! I'm also creeping toward total independence and adulthood. It's been a slow process, but I'm getting somewhere on that front I think. Otherwise, there were many times in 2009 that were quite the bummer in my life.
So in the spirit of both continuing on my "movin' on up to the Eastside" streak and putting crappy things behind me, good riddance 2009. I've started crafting my annual list of New Years Resolutions....here's what I'm thinking:
- Clean up my sailor mouth. I have a few bad habits, but cursing could be one of my worst. Its not intelligent, it's not classy, I'm better than it (sidenote: I try this one every year).
- Get into my 2005 jeans before a wedding I'm going to in March. There will be lots of high school people there I haven't seen in a while and I'm determined to look smokin'. Call me shallow, but it's also just sort of a realistic timeline for me to get rid of my muffin tops.
- Read a book per month. I stole this one from a friend, but I want to read more. It's a realistic endeavor too.
- Connect with more of my old friends. I frequently feel like I don't have enough girlfriends, but I really do have tons, I just lazily slip out of touch with them. I know some stinking awesome people and should take more advantage of that.
- Conversely, try to branch out and make some new friends. I'm sort of in a new city, so I need some fresh faces to go along with it. So far the d-bags run rampant in Dallas, but all hope is not lost.
- This is the biggie: I really want to generally be more positive. I've always been a glass-half-empty person and I think I want to switch things up. I think being more upbeat and looking on the brightside more often will go a long way in being a happier me. I know its more pleasant to be around an optimistic person, and in 2010 I'm going to be one of those people dammit (sailor mouth cleanup doesn't start until tomorrow).
- Beef up Poodleism. No more details...wouldn't want to release any spoilers.
Well, those are the things I can think of for now. I'm extra thankful to be embarking on a new journey with manfriend and the prince by my side. I hope to keep on keepin' on with the professional advancement and sunny attitude, but talk to me tomorrow after I celebrate tonight. I bet I'll want to be be back in '09.
Thats it for 2009 my few and very valued readers. See you next year!
If you begin typing "why do....", you get these answers in this order:
- why do men have nipples (I am curious about this...)
- why do cats purr (much love to the pet lovers out there on these next few)
- why do dogs eat poop
- why do dogs eat grass
- why does my vag smell (ARE FLIPPING KIDDING ME?)
If you begin typing "what happ....", you get these ridiculous 'popular searches':
- what happens when you die (totally legitimate)
- what happened to seal's face (Huh?)
- what happens in vegas
- what happens when you lose your virginity (hello parents, do your job and have that talk)
- what happened on my birthday (ummm....?)
Another hilarious one is to begin typing "how come...". I don't want to go there, it gets a little X-rated, but no less priceless.
UPDATE: a pal found this fabulous website Called Autocomplete Me with even more great searches to browse.
Anyway, I love this meaningless sociological crap. My absolute favorite is that the number two question (ON THE WHOLE INTERNET) beginning with "what happen..." has to do with Seal's face. I'm not going to disagree that that is one ugly mug, but I can't believe that many people are so interested. I guess all the other washed up stars out there should consider some sort of similar facial alteration to stay relevant (I'm talking to you Tara Reid) instead of the occasional planned nipple slip.
I thoroughly enjoyed this little exercise on a slow day in the cubicle. Try it out yourself. You may be shocked and tickled at what you find.
Notice anything funny about Santa?
The prince and I decided to include Old Saint Nick in our annual holiday portrait session. After researching all places to visit Santa, I found that at PetSmart they'll take you and your furry friend's picture with Santa for $10. JACKPOT. And, all the proceeds visit the North Texas SPCA. DOUBLE JACKPOT. So one Sunday afternoon, we trucked it into the store for our photo session. Upon arrival I immediately groaned at the sight of this piss-pore Santa. Manfriend insisted we stay for the comedic value. As we waited for our turn, it became clear that Santa was not only a woman, but a woman that liked other women. I was one of the few in line without a small child, so judging by my own discomfort, I can imagine the Dallas housewives in the queue with me were absolutely horrified. This social tension amounted to total hilarity.
Per my usual Sunday sluggishness, we were the last photo of the day and Santa was just getting off duty. As we were waiting for the picture to print, Santa began to de-robe right in the middle of the store. As she began peeling away her Santa suit, which had gotten uncomfortably "sweaty" (so she reported to the crowd of strangers watching in amazment), she exposed her Texas aTm t-shirt and man jorts beneath. VOMIT. Then as the red felt pants dropped to her ankles, she revealed her calves to be covered in tatoos of pinup girls. At this point I'm staring and can't stop. She replaced her Santa cap with an aTm baseball hat, which proved to be the crown jewel atop her completly ridiculous appearance. But, she forgot to take off the stick-on gray Santa eyebrows and walked away cooly to "go out back for a smoke." After her departure Manfriend and I both were nearly exploding with commentary and giggles. Comedic value of this little endeavor proved priceless, good call manfriend.
I feel a little guilty for being so appalled at this woman. I like to think of myself as a liberal, worldly, accepting kind of person. Apparently not. This lady was just so ridiculous I almost couldn't be polite. The best part of it all was the shock that all my loved ones received in their mailbox. Several of them have followed up with a strong "WTF?". From now on I think I want to deliver comedy as my holiday gift to others. Probably will take me the whole year to figure out how to top this one.
I can't not say it, and this is a whole other topic for another time, but aTm people are so freaking wierd. As soon as I think they're as freaky as they can be, they out-freak themselves.
Today scientists announced that they've discovered an earth-like planet in a nearby galaxy. It's 40 lightyears away, which is sort of right next door when it comes to space. They believe this "super-Earth" has an atmosphere, probably contains some amount of liquid water and could support life. Here's an illustration of it orbiting its version of our sun. This is an awesome discovery that opens the door to so many cool things. I'm exhilarated.
But, this is just the kind of business that takes me on a mental odyssey. What if this other planet is living in a parallel universe to us? What if they have their own kind of life with their own tales like Twilight and their own kind of pet poodles? What if our whole universe is a fleck of crap under the fingernail (if they even have those) of some beast in a land far far away? It's all ENTIRELY POSSIBLE. What my synapses are doing as I'm thinking about this is unexplainable. It's like someone just lit a strand of firecrackers in my skull...and I can't get enough.
Even just sitting here thinking about it the final frontier is just rocking my little world. With a mind as cluttered with gossip, Gaga and sparkles as mine, this space stuff is unique fodder for contemplation. Kudos to the scientists for discovering this one. Great little break in my normal news consumption. Don't know if I can do any more work today...SPACE BLOWS MY MIND.
I've sort of been meaning to discuss Lady Gaga....so now's a good a time as any. Gaga really puts me into a glass case of emotion. Somedays I'm annoyed at her, some days I'm in love with her. Lately its been more and more annoyed because she is such an attention-whore that it's just ridiculous. She acts like she's so revolutionary, but an attention-seeking popstar isn't anything new (Madonna's "Like a Virgin", Christina Aguilera's appalling "Diiirrrty" video, bald Britney attack (really all Britney behavior) etc...). She is just the 2009 version of famous talented poptart with loose-ish sexuality. C'mon show me something I haven't seen.
But on the other hand. She is just so bizarre I can't look away. So maybe she has hoodwinked us all. And, lest we forget, she produces fabulous and sparkly dance tracks loved by girls and gays the world over. I'm a slave to that and probably will always be. It's a wash.
More than anything, his “transgressions” (which is what the news outlets are referring to his sluttines as) just make me sad. Why do famous people do so many bad things? He was one of the few shining bastions of classiness and decorum left in the celebrity world, especially sports (If you’re listening Kobe, Mike Vick, Plaxico, wave your freak flag for a while…nobody is looking at anybody but Tiger). It breaks my heart/spirit, but it is refreshing to hear that the waspy elitists of the golf world aren’t exempt from “transgressions.” Now that things have gotten totally crazy, here are my favorite of the revelations about Tiger’s “secret life” :
- 14 (and counting) women have come forward! I think I may say we had an affair to get my own US Weekly cover…its one of my long-time dreams.
- He likes to have sex on Ambien…WTF?
- He’s an avid sexter and never makes grammatical/spelling error in texts (I know this because I read many of them), kudos on that attention to detail.
- He has accomplices to his infidelity. I cannot fathom how awesome it must be to have a full staff of people to help you be secretly devious. I plan to look into that.
These are cake pops. Inside the exterior of sprinkly goodness is a ball of moist and rich cake. Oh holy hell. There has never been a dish more perfect for me. It's like I was born to partake in these. Here are all the reasons they're awesome: obviously the deliciousness, festive and cute, small portion (if you choose...I ate three) and its a new fantabulous spin on an old favorite. I fully intend to try my hand at these treats for my little cousins at Christmas. Mad props to the culinary genius of co-worker/friend. I like her style.
We also did a "Chinese" gift exchange. We couldn't figure out why it's called this. It felt offensive, as we have a couple Asian-Americans in our click. I've just spent a few minutes trying to come up with a better name, to no avail. Anyway, it's the thing where you draw a number and can pick a gift or steal someone else's. Some people were REAL serious about not having their Starbucks gift card or bottle of wine snatched up. Just relax, this is supposed to be fun. I had the very last number in the whole batch, which is a great place to be strategically. I stole an extremely girly jewelry box from my friend, he was miserable with the thing in his hands. Merry Christmas to him. Helping him may have to be my charitable act for the yule-tide season, and I ended up with a girly trinket that looks fabulous in my apartment. Double score!Cake Pops + Christmas Cheer + Long Lunch hour + Shiny box = Major Victory of a Thursday.
Another random tidbit...This is a blooper shot from last year's Christmas card photoshoot. The Prince and I got all gussied up in our Holiday best to take our card picture. My friend, the camera-woman, was over with her Dachsund, Dignan. Dignan lept into the frame and Chuy got so mad/jealous that he snarled and bit Dignan. I felt like Michael Vick in the middle of it all. This year I'm hoping the Prince minds his manners at Christmastime. Maybe he just thought Dignan was going to drink all the Egg Nog. I'd probably bite him too.
Continued Merry Chirstmas to all!
First things first. I guess I sort of knew it going into the thing, but hockey games are played in giant room full of ice. I thought that since we were in the nosebleeds it would be like any other sporting event, and boy was I wrong. It was cold enough that I never removed my overcoat or scarf. I pretty much spent the whole event shivering. I couldn’t even comfortably grasp my drink to try to get on my beer jacket. Note for next time: dress as if I’m headed to
After the second period during halftime/intermission/two-thirds-is-over-break (or whatever you call it) they interviewed one of the players. He was ridiculously unable to speak our language…I couldn’t figure out what the deal was with this Norlandic man on the jumbotron. I later learned the NHL is swimming with Scandinavians. Who knew? Funny quip from manfriend: He observed that some extra-thug football players are even harder to understand – and English is their first language! Ha.
The Cheerleading/Whoring group for the Stars are the Planet Tan® Dallas Ice girls. These girls really didn’t do anything. They skated out and swept up the snow on the ice with bare midriffs and cleavage showing. Skating across the pristine white ice rink they were so tan it was just dumb. They also looked ridiculous. Did I mention that it’s a room full of ice? There were a small pack of them, the A-team of the bunch I presume, doing little shakes/dances between plays, but the majority of it was bouncy Hairography (Hair + Choreography), one of my biggest pet peeves of all time. They are all that is wrong with this world. Maybe I’m just still pissed about the Pear-Shaped thing.Another funny tidbit: After the Stars score a goal they had a soundbite wherein a deep Barry White-like voice boomed through the arena, "THE WHEELS ARE OFF." I fully intend to use that in my everyday life when things get a little out of control.
All in all, I enjoyed my NHL experience. I felt right at home with the hockey moms and Joe Six Packs (the semi-rough crowd was decidedly Arian, blue-collar and extremely intoxicated, but I don’t know if I want to go there) up in the upper deck. I’ll definitely go back again, as the sport is fun to watch, but wielding a parka and some blow darts to aim at the Ice Girls.
This is something about women’s magazines that has irked me for years but stirred the debate pot in the cubicle bay yesterday: What is up with the little stories that teach you how to dress for your body type? Every single label they give the body types is so freaking mean. Why don't they tell us what type Michelle Obama is, or whatever flawless starlet is on the cover? They've gotta have their own body image demons. See the snapshot of the actual spread below (Yes, they’ve literally put a red box around her “problem area”).
It’s just so mean. Why haven’t those Dove people on the crusade for real beauty sunk their friend-chicken-chompin’ teeth into this one? I’d re-name the body titles to these:
Plus Size – Lots to love, and even more to offer
Boy Shaped – Curves, who needs ‘em?
Pear Shaped – Hippy and fabulous
Busty (seems like it would be positive but the girl is always fat) – Boobilicious
Admittedly, everyone who falls into these categories – which is every woman operating in the real world -- isn’t thrilled about their particular “problem area,” and the article has good intentions, but calling someone “Boy Shaped”, really? Isn’t that like the ultimate slam? As a sidenote, I fall into the “Pear Shaped” category and it infuriates me to no end. This “pear” label always seems to pop into my mind when I try on clothes that don’t quite look right. The pear really isn’t a silhouette I want to resemble.
Damn you popular media. I wish I had the strength of mind to boycott you. But if I did, what would I think/blog about?
I saw this commercial for the first time this year yesterday, which means holiday time is upon us all. I heart this commercial. It’s a little pop culture tidbit that signifies holiday spirit and joy for me. Effective immediately, I’m in full-time Christmas mode. It’s all Chirstmas, all the time. In previous years manfriend has found my behavior “a little bit insane.” It’s go time boyfriend, so just get on board.
The following items are on my to-do list for the week to kick of the holiday time:
- Revamp my holiday sweater collection to include new 2009 additions.
- Decorate apartment and cubicle to be the most festive/obnoxious possible.
- Brainstorm Christmas card ideas for me and the prince. He tends to only be willing to do one take, so any photoshoot must be well orchestrated.
- Go to a mall to absorb the Christmasy-ness.
- Buy egg nog.
- Try to get my little butt to the gym so I don’t resemble the actual Santa Claus as much as last year.
There will be more updates to come, so just know that festivity is in all of your future. Merry Merry Christmas Poodleism-ers!
A fabulous family and manfriend. 2009 has had some bumpy parts. I never would’ve made it to another Turkey Day with out them. Hopefully next year they’ll be thankful for my love and support, I’ve been the needy one this year.
The prince. He can’t read blogs, so I’ll just communicate my thanks to him with treats and cuddles. He keeps me sane. Sometimes I get stressed out and my precious little companion makes me happy.
My friends. Although some of my BFFs are afar these days, I’m thankful that they love me enough to text, call, chat…whatever. I need their thoughts to keep on truckin’ sometimes. New friends have made me feel so welcome and at home in
I’m one lucky little lady to have a job that I like going to everyday. This time last year I wasn’t a happy camper professionally. I’ve come along way, and I’m grateful to have a job at all. Also thanks to the carpoolers for being such good new
I’m also thankful for these more frivolous items that bring smiles to my face: delicious chocolatey treats, the sweet sweet music of Beyonce, gChat, Gossip Girl, goat cheese, Twilight, the dog park at my apartment building, and NBC Thursday night programming.
Now that the thanks are out of the way, my focus will be on sweet potatoes and pie for the next couple of days.
My general read is that the movie was spectacular. There wasn’t anything left out of the book. And it’s a long book. You got all the details that the first movie lacked. It was amazing. I shrieked like a girl when Edward first came on screen. I guess I’m the person I was trying to avoid at the earlybird special. The effects were awesome. There was, magic, fighting, a band of werewolves, sexual tension galore; all the things I love about Twilight were there.
One nice bonus was Taylor Lautner (Jacob Black in the movie). That boy literally transformed himself into a whole other thing. He was the steamiest sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Like it made me uncomfortable to be looking at him in a crowded theater. And he's only like 16 years old. I’m confused about whether I’m on Team Edward still….who am I kidding, Edward is my only true love in Forks. But fabulous showing from Taylor Lautner. Bravo.
I only have one knock. The movie was so incredibly intense. Every single memorable powerful line of dialogue from the book was included, but without the 100-page buildup that make it possible in text. This amounted to 2 hours of the most tortured, passionate, dangerous…and thus exhausting, hours of my life. At times I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. But that could’ve been the in-movie latte.
All the drama caused manfriend to cackle in delight. I don’t think we really got the same sort of experience, but he was a good sport. Guess I owe him a couple Monday Night footballs in return.
Hurry up and get here Eclipse, I’m waiting. And I promise I'll put Twilight to bed on Poodleism until then.
My boss invited me to
All the discomfort aside, I think I did really awesome in our presentation and he finally maybe thought that I’m not some young idiot with heartthrobs (Hello, Edward) splattered all over my cubicle. I’m really proud of my little professional stride, and hopefully it will translate into a bonus. I loved feeling like a smart, professional, large-and-in-charge lady on the go (Playing in my head all day long: ♫“I’m every woman, its all in MEEEEEEEEE” ♪).
When I got back home to my apartment at the end of the day, I looked down at myself in a full business suit, with my rollerbag and laptop case, and wondered “Who am I” (cue Zoolander puddle reflection moment). I find it infinitely humorous that I was more comfortable in my Tweedle Dee costume than in my adult costume. A good pal at work told me to “Fake it ‘til I make it,” which is pretty good advice. I guess I’m still faking it, but maybe not.
As a side note, I'm one lucky little ducky. Manfriend was so proud he greeted me with flowers and wine. Maybe he was rewarding me for finally growing up a little....Either way, it was mega sweet.
I look forward to the next trip, but I’m not ready to give up Edward in my cubicle. So take that!!!
By far the best aspect of my tropical getaway was all the fun and debauchery with two of my BFFFs. It was great to go see the new paradise-like home of my pal. I don't have any flipping clue how she is a successful medical student there. All of Miami (or at least my short party-loaded time there) is like going on vacation.
We got to go to the beach twice! The first time it was in the evening, so the tide was high and kind of erradic. The waves crashed up and got us all soaked and washed manfriend's shoes away with the water. We got them back, but wet sandy sneakers isn't a party. There really isn't much more humbling than having the ocean literally sneak up on you. I think I was just drunk on the paradise-ness.
Another fabulous thing was meeting the first (or so I assume) stranger fan of Poodleism. He's Andrea's good pal. He's super nice. He's a cubano. He clearly appreciates excelently crafted wit. He's fabulous.
All in all, I wish I could jet set around the coutnry to visit my loved ones and make new friends more often. I guess that kind of goes without saying. Great time. Needed the vacay.
Today I'm furiously preparing for a hotly anticipated vacay to Miami to visit one of my all time favorite BFFs for her birthday. Below is her being her hilarious self. Another BFF and all three manfriends will be coming along too. It should be a reunion for the ages, except unfortunately one crucial member of our posse couldn't make it from NYC. Booo. We'll have to settle for a tripod.
Anyway, today my mind is wandering into dreamland imagining all the copious amounts of spiciness and fun in my future. There will be memory-making, debauchery and hopefully tropical paradise-inspired cocktails. I hope I see at least one Cubana rollerblading down Southbeach wearing a thong bikini (Hell, it may even be me!). I don't know why, but that's just what I imagine Miami to be like. I hope its true.
More than the fun, I'm so stinking excited to see my true besties from college that I can barely stand it. I'm so not adjusted to the real world, or my new Dallas life really, and being in my comfy place with my friends means so much to me these days. I can't. flipping. wait. It feels like its my birthday!
Whatever happens....I'M IN MIAMI TRICK.
Note: the man greets the dog before the wife, who is filming. That's what I'm talkin' bout. There are alot more cute-alicious puppy Veteran's day things where that came from.
Special shout out to my Pa-Paw and Granddad for fighting for us in WWII. (Probably the only way this message would reach them was if Bill O'Reilly was reading it, which wouldn't even happen over my dead body, but it's the thought that counts) And thanks more for getting back safely so I could be born some day. Without you veterans we wouldn't have some great things. As much as it irritates me sometimes, there would be no Bill O'Reilly, no Congress to fight about healthcare, no voting on the congressmen we put in there to duke it out. Deep down those are some awesome things. Heart you veterans.
This research asserts that “gloominess breeds attentiveness and careful thinking” and a “mildly negative mood may actually promote a more concrete, accommodative and ultimately more successful communication style.” Aaaaaah…..so that explains it.
My doctor friend turned me onto this tidbit, so you know it’s good. Admittedly I’m a glass-half-empty kind of person. Manfriend often accuses me of being negative…he’s not the only person who’s observed that, although upbeat, I generally prepare for the worst. In addition to this probably being unpleasant to those around me, I firmly believe this negative disposition is contributing to the visible signs of aging. Or maybe the visible signs of aging are making me grumpy. That one is hard to tell.
Anyway, upon reading this, I think there may be some truth to it. A positive disposition has a slew of perks, but now it may seem that been a little bit disgruntled actually leads to stronger communication and decision-making skills. Two things I think I’m good at. But does that mean that I’m grouchier than I know? (Stark introspection happening now).
I think I’ll now use Facebook to look for all the grumps I know ponder whether these theories are true. Either way, I’m probably over-thinking this, but that’s because I’m grouchy that I’ve had an annoying day.
Me and manfriend are trying to be Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum for the Saturday night festivities. It’s been more difficult than I imagined to find the proper parts of the costume. Don’t want to release any spoilers…more on that later. It was only an accident to be characters from Alice in Wonderland two years in a row. Last time around we did Alice and the Mad Hatter. That one will be hard to top. We’ll see. I’ve been around to every Halloween shop in the area and this is what I’m thinking are my favorite things about Halloween:1. Costumes made for infants and/or pets. They are all about the same. All are stinkin’ too cute for words. If I had a tot it would be wearing this. 2. CANDY. Can’t. get. enough. I also love feeling valid in eating total crap because it’s a “holiday.” 3. Jack-o-lanterns. I think they’re so cool. At what other time can you make a vegetable a spooky, yet classic, decoration for any space? See photo of cubicle. These are the things I wish didn’t exist at Halloween time:
1. Whore-bag costumes. Why must all costumes for women be super slutty and modeled by porn stars. Hate that.
2. CANDY. Worried about my Tweedle Dee sweatpants fitting. Thank heavens they’re sweatpants.
3. Decorations that are actually really scary. I recently set off a motion-sensored bloody corpse that jumped out of its coffin to scare me. I peed a little and had nightmares. It was awkward.
All in all, I heart Halloweentime.
This weekend the scariest of my life happened. Me, manfriend and the prince were enjoying a nice sunshiny walk on Katy Trail, a fabulous jogging path near my apartment. We’d only strolled about a quarter of a mile and something came over the prince. He sat down in the middle of the trail and refused to move. This is not uncommon, he’s a stubborn little bugger at times. Then things got scary. He sort of collapsed and went totally limp and lifeless.
Manfriend sprung into action and ran back to the apartment to get the car. I was left alone with a limp poodle in the most crucial minutes. This was excruciating. I don’t want to go into the details, which are horrifying. We rushed him to the emergency vet and they wisked him to the back to be revived. At this point I thought the prince may be dead. They determined that he had some sort of allergic reaction to cause him to go into acute shock and possibly death.
Never fear, the prince was saved. But, only after a few hours in ICU, an overnight hospital stay, and 24-hours of observation and medications. I really never have been so overwhelmed with worry/fear in my life. To all the parents of actual babies out there, bless your hearts. I just caught a quick glimpse of how serious and worrisome it must be to have a tot.
Even days later, the image of his sick little body is burned into my mind. The prince is my world. He depends on me implicitly for everything he needs. Bad day, but the little fartknocker is back to being my favorite partner in crime.
It occurs to me to write about this now because we are less than one month away from the release of New Moon, the second film installment of what I’m going to call “The Greatest Work of Fiction of Our Time.” I’m annoyed how much promotional footage has been released. I hate the spoilers, but I can’t look away. Damn that beautiful Edward face. I’ve heard that the Twilight action figures have hit Toys R Us Stores. If I didn’t have to buy food and utilities, the whole cast would be lined up in the cube cheering me through my day. It really irritates me how much they’re promoting this movie. For some ridiculous reason I still feel like Edward is still only my little secret fantasy boyfriend…diluted notion, I’m aware, but it gets me through the day sometimes. I also have a hard time separating the characters of Twilight from the real-life actors – a common mixup in the celebrity-gossip infested jungle that is my consciousness...
Recall back to my post about my cubicle. I can’t get enough Edward. But, I’ve decided that I only love Edward Cullen, not Rob Pattinson. I find R-Patz to be an annoying man-diva whose tousled hair wavers between bedroom-sexy-messy and genuinely unhygienic. That aside, Edward haunts/perverts my thoughts all day. One of my best pals, another Twi-hard (who ridiculed before I went and got all addicted …my bad), once told me that it was hard not to compare Edward with her real-life boyfriend. I totally agree. We are educated, sensible grown ups and Twilight/Edward fever has taken us over. Yeah, he’s that amazing. One part dangerous plus one part dreamy equals one whole perfect.
I detest Bella (and Kristen Stewart) with a firey fury that I really should reserve for happenings in my actual life. Bella the character is a finicky embarrassment to independent women everywhere. Kristen Stewart is an ungrateful little poptart who thinks she’s freaking Julia Roberts now. Totes over her.
Jacob (Taylor Lautner) is an ok character. He’s definitely sexy to the max, but just too pure and innocent for my taste. You’d think a werewolf would introduce an obligatory element of danger into the equation, but he bores me. What does not bore me are the rumors of Taylor Lautner/Taylor Swift romantical trysts around Hollywood. More gossip, less moral fiber please. Clearly I’m team Edward when it comes to the Twilight love triangle.
I could go on about this forever, and probably will come back to this topic as the unavoidable barrage of editorial photography hits magazines the next few weeks. The point is this: I’m so freaking excited for this movie I could just tinkle. In the meantime I’ll just be dreaming of my Edward. Judge me please…I dare you.
Another wind of change is sweeping through my conciousness this TX/OU weekend. I'm approaching the 3-day debauchery festival with a new spirit. I'm hoping not to spend 3-5 days hungover afterward. In the past, I've not budgeted my party engergies very well on this weekend. Now that I'm a big girl, I'm determined to effectively get through the weekend so that it includes copious fun and I can go into my next week with something to show for myself. How to achieve this....I'm still brainstorming.
One thing remains the same however. It's 4:52 and OU still sucks....hard. Hookem Horns!
Austin, Texas is a virtual goldmine of tasty breakfast taco options, which brought me endless satisfaction and lots of hangover remedies during my time there. Dallas does not offer the same cornucopia of choices. But this weekend, manfriend and I ventured to the other side of the highway, the ominous “eastside”, on a recommendation from a colleague for the best tacos in Dallas. We found them. Hallelujah!
The place was called Taco Joint. It is located in a decidedly rough area of town occupied by hipsters who are too hip for uptown and genuinely scary homeless crackheads. Already sounds like Austin. The line was out the door and the parking lot was chalked full of luxury cars of various sorts. There must be something inside worth the sojourn to the other side of the tracks.
After the 30 minute wait, our tacos arrived and boy were they worth the wait. Not only were they delicious, but manfriend contends they could be the best we’ve ever sampled. And we are researched enough on this topic to make such a confident assertion. Fresh scrmbled eggs, melted cheese, crispy bacon, fresh salsa….mmmmmm. If the line hadn’t been so long I definitely would have been up for ordering more just to make sure that I left in a taco-induced coma. Success.
The real point of this story is that, after a few months in a town that I’m becoming more and more convinced is not for me, I found a shining bastion of awesomeness. I have a renewed faith in the good of Dallas-ites and am feeling energized to continue searching for similar little treasures around the city.
Side distraction: me and my colleagues just debated why the cents symbol ( ¢ ) isn’t used very often these days. I believe it’s wandered into obsolescence because of inflation. So few things cost less than one dollar that the up-and-coming generation of purchasers will have no need for it. A wiser man than I thought that it’s because for whatever reason the cents symbol didn’t get a key on the modern keyboard so people never think of it. I guess when we scrapped the typewriter we threw out some of the keys too. It seems unfair, but I bet he’s right. Honestly seeing the cents sign is what caused me to pull over my grocery cart.
Back on track: given these hard times we live in, and that I’m totally strapped for cash because I just can’t seem to lay off buying sparkly things of various sorts, I’ve begun to bargain hunt like never before. This is what attracted me to the Ramen. I don’t know if it never appealed to me, or I believed I was above a 16¢ dinner, or what, but I’m converted. It was one of the more fabulous finds of recent memory. I don’t know how I got through my college years without sampling it, but now my lunchtime fare is headed to a whole new place. I want to get to the store to try all the flavors now. This first purchase was an experiment (I’m wondering now why I didn’t just grab a few of the things since they’re so economical. I was probably trying to save money, so I skipped the extra Ramen to get another Lean Cuisine, which has a $3.00 pricetag. Hahaha).
Nonetheless, it’s the little things in life that make the days go by. Things like Ramen, fabulous nail polish colors, tame poodles and episodes of Seinfeld on late night TV that I’ve actually never seen make my world go ‘round. I’m in my cube with a tummy full of warm sodium-saturated tastiness and I couldn’t be happier. Please suggest other budget-smart items if you have them. I just went to a whole new realm of open mindedness. I’m a little mad at my old ultra-quick meal standbys (Lean cuisine, easy mac, hot pockets) for being so expensive.
I love this show. I’ve been a fan of it from the beginning and the recent muckraking, whilst heartbreaking when I consider the precious little tots, has engaged my appetite for trashy gossip more than most stories (Competes only with the off-camera goings on of the Gossip Girl and Twilight starlets…swoon). It’s been hard for me not to bring my frequent editorial comments on this story to the blogosphere. But this I can’t ignore.
Why in the world did it take TLC this freaking long to remove him from their network? I was on Team Jon at first, as I believe Kate has a slew of personality flaws herself, but he has done everything possible to disappoint me…and America (boom, Roasted). The womanizing, the ear piercing, the extravagant partying, the global vacations…TRYING TO GIVE AWAY THE DOGS. I hate him. As a rule of thumb, I never trust anyone wearing anything Ed Hardy. I want to boycott him from my consciousness (I wish I had that the power to boycott various things from my consciousness: Miley Cyrus, mayonnaise, various indiscretions, etc.), but sadly I lack that magic. I want the Duggars to host a moral intervention with him. Thats good television.
The funniest part of it all is that now they’ll be calling the show just “Kate plus 8”. This brings me immeasurable giggles.. That woman is dying for a re-branding. Name of the show, hairstyle, snippity personality, come on lady change with the times.
That’s all. Just wanted to weigh in on a nonsense cultural item. If only you all knew how many more I have a brewin’.
My décor scheme has come out somewhat a hodgepodge of my various interests. There is an “accidental” over-representation of Rob Pattinson / Edward Cullen (I cannot consider them one in the same), but I think I like it that way. Here’s a sneak peak at my little work nook: I love having the pics of my friends and family. I get to remember how lucky I am to have such class-act homies and all the hallway passersby get to see how fabulous, not to mention good looking, all my loved ones are. Sometimes it makes me miss the prince while I’m at work though. Boo.
For those of you further away from me in the world, here’s a bit about my job. My company, Partnercomm, Inc., is a communications consulting firm. We produce various materials (brochures, magazines, pamphlets, Web sites, videos, etc.) for other companies. The majority of our work deals with internal HR-related topics. The content can get a little mundane, but the work is good for me. There’s writing, editing and designing to be done – right down my little alley. Only at a communications company would the cubicles be decorated so fervently and the whole office be painted in multi-colors (highly remniscent of a Mexican restaurant). This suits me well.
The people are fabulous too. There is witty banter galore and lots of other Twi-hards for me to discuss the myriad of happenings in Forks with. I’m thrilled to have made a couple friends here. On a similar note, two of my work pals have just gotten puppies of their own: Bailey (at left) and Libby (at right). Libby goes to day care with the prince and they are becoming an item. The new pups give us infinite fodder for conversation. It’s weird to be the expert on something. I kind of like it, even if it’s just puppy raising.
Everyday I come to work and think about Edward and puppies I'm reminded how hard my other job blew. Talk about a waste of my life. Oh well, you win som you lose some. Partnercomm = win.
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