tales of woe...

What does the little black kitty cat have to do with tales of woe, you may wonder. Click on the title of this post, and then run the pointer over the kitty's chest. It purrs!

This in itself does not contain woe. The woeful thing is that in my new apartment, which adds another half an hour to my commute, I will not be able to have the quinessence of gothliness for girls. The little black kitty cat. Feh. Not that I can't have pets. I'm sure I could have a tiger if I kept it well behaved. I'll just have less time now. No little yappy dogs for me.

That's right. I have an apartment all to myself. I haven't moved in yet, but it's mine.

And I'm still sick. I think that's the biggest tale of woe...

the woodwork...

Is it truly possible to be friends with someone of the opposite sex? (provided you are straight and so are they?). It's the classic "When Harry Met Sally" dilemma. A friend of mine pointed out to me that I have no straight male friends who aren't married. This is entirely true.

Also, considering the souring of my ardor for boyfriends, I think I may just try being real and for true friends with a straight male. Hm. How freeing.

OF course, this doesn't count the IDIOT who just crawled out from under his rock lately. I think exes don't count.

< think you can not speak to me materially for two years and get back in there> HECK NO.

on no I didn't...

... really get up today at 5:16 a.m. And actually managed to put the lipstick on my mouth instead of my left eye. And after I stayed up until the unholy time of 10:56 (last night) reading this book called:

"No Plot?" No Problem! by the indefatigable Chris Baty

Apparently there's this whole community of folks who write a 50,000 word first draft of a novel in a month. the month of November, to be exact.

Since I've been attempting to write a novel for most of my life, I think I'll try it.

Click the title for more info.

I want one!

Yeah yeah yeah. I know. He's a jock and waaaaay to young for me, but I just love the article this guy from Yahoo! wrote on him. Harvard is stupid, apparently. They want an Elle Woods instead of this faster than humanly possible cutie with a great big heart. Click on the title for more.

I'm not much into sports, but I admire the drive and dedication that I never had outside a dance studio or a theatre scene shop. I watched all last night, and am frankly astonished that in the semifnals of the men's short track 1500 speed skating event, Mr. Ohno apparently just HAD to be in the lead, when second would have suited just fine. Hey! Keep your hands to yourself when you're practically all up the anus of the Cinese guy's spandex! Otherwise you wouldn'ta knicked your stupid left hand and we all would have slept better.

And Michelle Kwan. Damn it!

Feh.

stifled laughter...

can be had if you click on the title, or better yet, read through the whole cartoon/ad/horrible brainwashing tool, and read this commentary from one of my favorite writers/humorists/blogging GODS.:

>>From the 20s, an ad detailing the eternal story. Well, the story of a culture with certain body-style archetypes, anyway. Here the grumpy tub is consoled by her willowy yet oddly mannish friend. "Why don't you get thin then?" It's just so simple!
Panel 2: Note that she's taking full responsibility here; note also that her head appears to have cracked like an eggshell. Sadly she watches her thin friend go off to do that thing thin people call "sex." Why her friend doesn't just nailgun her on the spot and end this pathetic life is a mystery -

Panel 3: Within mere weeks handsome men with oiled hair will be smelling YOUR eyeballs! And all you have to do is drink JAD, and make two small changes in diet:

1. Eat nothing

2. Throw it all up<<

From one who is starting to find desperate middle-aged pursuits like listening to Josh Groban, trying her hardest to be more grown up, and listening to her biological clock tick tock tick tock - this site is HYSTERICAL.

And it truly is so simple - just turn anorexic, no problem!

a new guilty pleasure

I've been sitting here trying to think of names to describe music video stills for our image library - and really just for my own spreadsheet to keep track. I'm a Capricorn, what can I say?

a smattering:

Coldplay: Red Light Piano
50 cent: Pimpin' Hoes
- can we have any MORE of a stereotype?
Gwen Stefani: Candy Bed (with grimace)
- an interesting future name for a still life, and could possibly be relieved by some maalox
Gorillaz: Cartoon Lighthouse
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Microphone Lunch
Pussycat Dolls - why even BOTHER? - I can't wait to see these chicks in ten years when everything goes south

And in the midst off all this - I decided to look up some new tunes to download - since I've become addicted in a big bad way to the iTunes music store. So much o that I've actually had to limit the amount I spend each week. At least it isn't gambling.

It got me. I can't explain, and I hesitate to admit it. I've had my ears dipped in caramel and am by small increments becoming a believer. I can't pull myself away. I've fallen into a musical mire of quicksand that I misdoubt I'll get out of.

The voice, the musicianship, the intonation. I've died and gone to heaven.

Josh Groban.

I think I may need an intervention. What's next? Romance novels!!?