Vision Vision

Here's how I know I'm a misanthrope.
I met my dooble and I hated her.

Kill Bill put me in a bad mood... and other true stories

Part I
I once got buried alive in my dreams and I looked a lot like Uma Thurman until it turned out I was just watching Kill Bill and all I wanted to do was think about how hot it was this weekend or how I forgot to pour some out for the homies who served our country. But now all I could think was "get me out of this plywood coffin."
Part II
"I love you, but I don't like you very much right now." I would like to tell Mr. Tarantino the same in re: his volume 2. Of course, I wouldn't expect him to listen. I would expect him to tell me to "CENSORED myself" and that he doesn't much "give a flying CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED what [I] think because [I] didn't even pay the CENSORED CENSORED cash to see it on the CENSORED screen."
And I would nod patiently, in case he flashed a weapon.

Places My Scissors May Have Gone, Seeing As They Did Not Come Back To Me

• Someone's backpack
• A' cuttin' (and he did ride, uh huh)
• The garbage
• El Salvador
  

When You Think You Know, But You Have No Idea, And It Has Nothing To Do With MTV Video Diaries

"I loved The DaVinci Code; I saw it with Maria and Sara last night."
"Oh, really? Tell me about it."
"Well it was good, but I didn't really understand it."
"Ok. I read the book, maybe I can help."
"What was the book about?"
"..."
"Same thing?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. What's it called?"
"The DaVinci Code."

Chemical Burns and Classroom Showers

Sakes alive! I've got an eye on fire!
I just poked the side of my sclera with residual Indian food on my fingers!
I canotn evern asee the akeyeboayard, aoh outcgh nmsy etaws## Thet vyrn!!!!!!

Pickle for a Nickle; Chicago for a Dollar

1. Play-doh scented perfume!!! Can I pre-order?
2. Matt asks me things in a robot voice: "Would it be hard to date me if I talked like this?" "Yes."
   
3. Our Jackass take-off/redux did not win the video competition last night. However, I would like to award Finest "On Second Thought" Performance to that Info Desk guy at Barnes and Noble who looked at us, looked away, and then looked back to say, "You can't film in here." You really got into that role, Glenn. And we appreciated it, even though we lost us the pizza party reward.
   
4. Ashley's getting married. It was the first email engagement announcement ever received, thus signaling the end of the Modern Era and the beginning of the Internets Rule Us All Era (aka, the IRUA Era).
   
5. Let's go.
   

What's Up, Ladies?

Trapped in a World of Giants
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

This is William.
We met at Sara's bridal shower, though he's probably already forgotten me. I'll never let go, William. [tweet, tweet]
He stole her thunder with a gums-only smile.
Look out for me when I am a dentured woman. I will totally kill at parties.

Impromptu Surgery? Or, How I Ran Home After I Saw

Discovered another universal truth:
Dusk is a scary time to see a single latex glove on the path by a creek.

Stay Classy, San Diego

Here is Rin's advice for weddings, but it applies to so much more:

• No Hotel Ballrooms
• No Chicken Kiev
• NO MIRRORS AND VOTIVES AS CENTERPIECES
• No Open Mic Toasts

It's Not On Fire

People are trying to kill our roof.
At 6:54 this morning as I emerged from the shower, I thought I had entered an intensely personal war zone [sound clip*]. Rebel groups vigorously remove shingles.
And then I dressed in the dark because the very small man (or a regular-sized man with a very small shadow) outside my window could have seen in. "Do you like my dress?...No?... I should go with the capris?"
I demand good fashion sense from my insurgents.

*Like I have that technology. Just imagine the sounds of a war zone.

She Will Object

Things she loves more than us:

While The World Watched

Ladies of Bookclub,
I'm happy to report that I have an answer to the issue we discussed last evening, which in no way related to Joan Didion's research-paper-of-a book, The Year of Magical Thinking.
He relieved himself through tubes.
Thank you and see you next month,
Me

Level 4F, Spot 2. Or Maybe It Was Level 4E. Or Spot 4, Level 2.

Long ago, Anne and I took a rather educational trip with her parents to our Nation's Capitol.* I have fond memories: Smithsonian visits; Old Town Manasas; the grassy Mall; and public transportation, which I navigated expertly. After three days on the subway, Mr. Dad** declared my "good spatial awareness" to Anne, Lynn, and maybe some food service strangers and a couple of museum docents. Washington DC knew I had good spatial awareness.
For shame.
As I spent 30 minutes today searching for my car in the right spot of the wrong parking ramp, it occured to me that maybe he was just being nice.

*Back when we called them "'rents" without a trace of irony.
**This is not to preserve identities. His name is Mr. Dad.

Hand Me The Whole Box

I've managed to scrape together what's left of me after watching Brokeback Mountain in a pre-period Horomone-ic State to tell you all that that movie was too sad. This film--cheers Ang Lee and that lady who wrote the short story--brought up some major issues for me. Politically. I realized that I've been ignoring something I feel strongly about and it's time I address it with you: We, as a nation, need to explore a new ratings system.
Funny-Appropriate for All Ages
Pathetic-Appropriate for Nearly All Ages
Not That Sad-Appropriate for Most Ages
Sad-Appropriate for Some Ages, But Not The Littlest Or The Oldest Or The Emotionally Vulnerable
Quite Sad-Appropriate for Everyone Who Isn't Prone to Tears
Real, Real Sad-Appropriate If You Have No Other Demands on You for the Rest of the Day
Do Not Watch This Because Its Sadness Runs Too Deep and It Will Sneak Up and Fill You With the Sadness of 1000 Rainy Days-Appropriate for Those Pronounced Legally Dead

Stay In School And You, Too, Can Make Off-Color Jokes

Last night we "helped" Dan "prepare" for his big test on Things Doctoral. And I got to thinking.
I am fortunate to have friends who care about important things in life:
Family,
Education,
Renal and Penal health...

Allright, you caught me.
'Renal' and 'penal' were my only motivation for this post.

ExtrapoLOVEtion

"Kelly*, are jou pro or con immigration?"
"What do you think, Edgar?"
"Kelly, If jou was in love with an immigrant, would you marry hem?"
"Hm?"
"If jou was in love with an immigrant..."
"Yes."
"You would marry her?"
"Wha?"
"Hem."
"Hmmmm. I am in love with someone."
"Yes, but if this person is an immigrant...."
"He's not."
"If he is."
"If he were."
"If he were."
"Yes, I would."
"So you like immigrants."

*Still not my name, but he says it and I respond.

Something Nice to Say

In the grueling process of writing recommendations*, my creativity wanes. They feel insincere. I realize that they should include some personal reflections of my relationship to the candidate. Most of my favorite memories have no place in a formal letter. Like that time during our 28-hour bus trip to Mexico when I considered throwing myself out the window to escape her enthusiasm for celebrity gossip. Or the time on the way home when I did.***

*Much like bridal parties. "Hey Friend, I like you so much. Please pay lots of money to be part of my special day."**
**Sara, Anne, Nancee, you know I love you. I will never wear those dresses again. Er...except for yours, Nancee, and that was just because my mom wouldn't buy me a new dress to wear to Homecoming sophomore year. Anyway, I was younger then. And purple was my color.
***Poetic license.