Most Genius Invention EVER...

You know how biscuits in those cardboard tubes only come in packs of 12. Like GRANDS or CINNABON ROLLS or some such thing? Well, we all know as single people that we can’t just get a roll and cook them all, since then you’ll have to eat biscuits or cinnamon rolls or orange rolls for the next week and a half. And as much as you really want a nice buttermilk biscuit, you don’t want 12 of them stuffed in your gullet.

The solution? Frozen Grands. Like the 12 rolls only individually frozen. You can cook ONE. Yes, you heard me ONE NICE BIG FLAKY BISCUIT. Just one.

I’m in love.

Smartly Trim

Jaunty
Show Spelled Pronunciation [jawn-tee, jahn-] Show IPA
–adjective, -ti⋅er, -ti⋅est.
1. easy and sprightly in manner or bearing: to walk with a jaunty step.
2. smartly trim, as clothing: a jaunty hat.


I have a jaunty new hat.

Yes, it’s really jaunty.

Of course, when I stated ‘I want a jaunty hat’ and finally got it, my boyfriend loudly proclaimed it ‘THE JAUNTY HAT’ and now whenever I wear it, I will get teased for being so jaunty.

There are worse things to be teased about. ;)

It's not Trivial

I love Trivial Pursuit.

I hate people that don’t love Trivial Pursuit. You know…those people who grew up under rocks, and have never heard of anything. Those people who don’t have a clue about any Geography, Entertainment, History, Arts & Literature, Science & Nature, or Sports & Leisure. Those people who look blandly at me after I ask the question, and make some silly comment about 'I'm so stupid!' and laugh while taking a drink. You know who you are. And yes, you are stupid.

And honestly, Trivial Pursuit is SO EASY. The first thought that pops into your head is USUALLY RIGHT. Somewhere, in some deep recess of what you learned in High School –is that answer! Who can't guess "Who invaded Spain in the 8th century?"

Duh. "The Moops."

Forced Blogging: This Blood's For You...

I don’t know if you watch True Blood, the somewhat-new TV series based off Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse novels, but I started it recently due to numerous pals saying “You will love it!” And, I did love the books. And I do love vampire stories in general.

Now that I’m watching it, I wonder why my friends think I love over-acting horribly-southern-accented uneducated fools who repeatedly engage in retarded brooding matches with cute, yet also-overacting vampires. Not one actor listens to anyone else, and the lines are so cliché and boring, I just am waiting for the punch line. Everything is a straight up (pun intended) commentary on the gay community acceptance in the guise of vampire community. And all this from Alan Ball! The creator of the best-written show on television IMHO, Six Feet Under. I can already see the episodes that he’s written stand out as at least tolerable. That’s a bad thing.

When Alan Ball pitched this show he said he pitched it as ‘Popcorn TV for Smart People’. I highly disagree. This is popcorn TV for people who like watching dumb people do stupid things. This is the reality TV of vampire shows.

And everyone has bad hair. Even the emo-brooding civil war vampire.

Ok, I will admit, I love me some vampires. But the rest of the show sucks. This show isn't even worth a pun about sucking.

I am tempted to continue the show in the hopes that other educated characters appear, and cajole Alan Ball off-screen into writing more episodes regarding the relationships. RELATIONSHIPS I said, not just brooding. I do realize that EVERYTHING put on television is dumbed down and sexed up to some extent. But can’t century-old vampires do anything else other than brood in Louisiana? And just being hot, brooding and sexy isn’t enough. Despite what you’ve heard.

At least I enjoy my boyfriend practicing the sexy brooding whenever the vampire is on screen. He’s getting good. If he gets good enough, maybe we can stop watching the show and just do the rest ourselves.

Jeff, We Hardly Knew Ye...

Prior to 2007, my knowledge of pro-wrestling consisted of this: Hulk Hogan.

That’s it. His name. I was aware of him, and what he looked like, nothing more.

Flash forward 2 years later, and courtesy of my WWE obsessed boyfriend, I am self-consciously calling myself ‘a wrestling fan’. It’s not something I ever would have assumed I’d like, let alone gotten into. But now on the eve of losing my favorite wrestler, Jeff Hardy, I feel the tables, ladders and chairs have turned.

WWE and Wrestling Entertainment conjures up images of shameless roided and oiled up hunks tossing each other around a ring while yelling. And possibly a few catchphrases. But now that I’m seeing it through the eyes of someone who loves it, I see that WWE has storylines. It has heroes and villains. And it has heart.

In the wrestling entertainment world, you can’t just wrestle – you have to tell a story as well. In WWE, there are those who can act, and those who can wrestle. Jeff Hardy was one of the latter. His acting ability left much to be desired, and is often parodied in conversations I have with other fans. However, I think I became a fan of Jeff because he was different. He was not HUGE. He was not exceptionally talented. He did one signature move that I didn’t see anyone else attempt much – a rotating flip off the turnbuckle. It was almost gymnastic. He looked different, he acted different, and it seemed like not only was his character an outsider, but he personally might have been one as well.

His moments usually consisted of bad promos, followed by astonishing flipping falls from incredible heights. He threw his body around like a rag doll.

But I wanted to see him win. The underdog, the smaller man, the outsider needed to win. And thus, WWE had me hooked.

He has risen to the top, and personal demons saw him fall again. His personal life really did echo his character, and thus…he has to confront his life, and rectify what he’s become. He is taking time off the WWE to recuperate, and unfortunately…now he’s gone. He may return – who knows how long he’ll take off. He may see fit to not return to wrestling.

I’m not sure that the reason I watch WWE is the same reason everyone else does. I’m not sure that I get out of the show what I’m supposed to get. But I know I at least call myself ‘fan’ partially due to the gigantic flipping leaps of Jeff Hardy. So I guess, he accomplished what he set out to do.

Hulk Hogan who?

Forced Blogging: These Crazy Kids

So, I decided I need to exercise my writing muscles. I can hardly get myself to exercise ANY muscles at all, even though I set my elliptical between my bed and my bathroom. I have 6 partially finished scripts, 4 specs, and a book. All of which are languishing on my nice mac, that is only used for surfing cute overload and facebook. Poor mac. Thought it would get rich being a ‘writer’ when instead it houses bed jumping photos and lots and lots of Muse songs.

The topic given to me for today is “these crazy kids with their hair and their clothes and their loud music.”

And this is a pretty easy topic, considering I LOVE these crazy kids with their hair and their clothes and their loud music! Ok, not love…I appreciate. Only when they are in a gaggle at the mall blocking my entrance to Hot Topic to buy a Gryffindor shirt, only then do I dislike them. When they mock my fashion choice of old-lady jeans and said Gryffindor shirt, I really dislike them. And when they’re under age 15, then I REALLY REALLY dislike them.

Maybe it’s less the fads, than the age. I love pink and green hair, and tutu skirts, and crazy Japanese bondage outfits. I love them blasting alternative and rap. But when it comes from a child – I do appreciate less, and wonder more. What is their rationale? What is the point of their rebellion?

I don’t recall rebelling as a child. I mostly read books. My parents thought I was a great kid, save for that one time I helped my best friend host a beer party at age 15. Of course I didn’t have any beer – yuck. So, clearly…a great kid.

I rebelled in my late 20s early 30s – pink hair, rockabilly jeans, and lusting over boys with tattoos. I rebelled by going to film school instead of becoming a science teacher. I rebelled by choosing to not have children, and by being extremely liberal.

So, what is it about the 12 year olds in grunge pants, tutus and punk tops that bothers me? It’s that they are doing it for no reason. They do it because it’s a fad. It’s that they don’t know what grunge, punk or being a rebel really means.

Not that I know either. I’m an old fuddy-duddy in a Hot Topic Gryffindor shirt that listens to Muse. What do I know? Maybe a pink stripe in my hair would get me some respect.

Probably not.

At least the LA canyon fires are crackling...

Ah, Fall…

When the leaves turn, the crisp scent of yellow aspen and crackling fireplaces and cool nights… and when Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes return.

Say what? September 1 is officially fall? Since when?

Come to think of it, I did see Halloween costumes in the drug store the other day. And Thanksgiving cards were on display. I should start Christmas shopping now!

Too bad I’m still going to the beach and wearing tank tops in this ridiculous 100 degree heat. I’ll take my Pumpkin Spice Latte ICED, please.

I love me some sandwiches...

But I REALLY love me some Vespa sandwiches.

MMMM?

What is up with McGriddles?

I have had them before, and every time I see them, I think “people must like these…they must taste ok, I should try it again” and every time I take one bite and regret my decision. And here I am again today, with a McGriddle on my desk, and just starting at it while I chew, thinking…

“Sausage should not be wrapped in pancakes.”

It’s a gastrotastrophy. Yes, I just made that up, and it means good food gone bad. Something that may SEEM like a culinary creation and avant-garde, but just comes off as sausage wrapped in maple flavored bread. And that’s not a good thing.

I’m all for pancake flavored cupcakes with bacon sprinkles…so you ask me, “why the bias toward McDonalds fare? It’s the same thing!”…and I reply with the one simple rule for food combinations.

1. Food should be either sweet OR savory with a sprinkling of its opposite. Sweet cupcakes with sweet frosting with a bacon chip – OK. Savory sausage with savory bread with a hint of maple – OK. Sweet pancakes with maple sugar chips wrapping savory sausage- NOT OK.

This rule can probably be applied to many aspects of life. I will leave it up to the reader to do so, and advise me on the outcome.

And apparently McGriddles can be used as a weapon. There is McGriddle FanFiction. McGriddles are already being copied in Dunkin Donuts ‘Waffle Breakfast Sandwich.’ And they have a Facebook page. And although all these things imply that McGriddles are a pop phenomenon, and I should respect it as such…the bottom line is…it just doesn’t taste right.

But I still ate the whole thing.

Online Dating EXPOSED!

This article makes me furious.

I take offront to someone who professes to write about how the online dating community is a waste of time when he cant even fill out a profile about himself. Clearly, this fellow has no abiliy to define who he is, what he wants, and shouldn’t be dating anyone at all until he figures that out. If trying to list your favorite movies puts you in paralysis of double-thinking, perhaps you should double-think yourself right out the door. What real woman wants to date someone that can’t decide what level of dishonesty he’s going with for today’s profile?

I think finding anyone in this crazy world that you like is winning the lottery. I think falling in love with that person and them falling in love with you back is like winning the lottery 3 times in a row and then Ed McMahon showing up at your door when you get home with a humongous Publisher’s clearing house check. And Ed McMahon is alive. That’s the kind of miracle I think finding your soulmate is. SO believe me when I say that finding MY soulmate on match.com was a miracle, one that was brought about by some very important things this man is clearly forgetting:

1. Know who you are. If you can’t define yourself, then take some time to get to know yourself. How can you become ½ of a whole if you aren’t sure what you have to offer?

2. Know what you want. Don’t be that loser who thinks the scatter-gun effect is real. If your only criteria in a mate is ‘breathing’ then get off the internet.

3. Be real. Don’t lie. Don’t write what you think the opposite gender wants to hear. Write from your heart. It ensures that the other heart reading your profile is the right one. If your heart has nothing to say...see suggestion #1.

And as my boyfriend and soulmate of 2 years (whom I met on match.com) added: "So we have a person who writes for CNN.com, what is presumably supposed to be a reputable news/analysis website, admitting that he gave up doing research for the article after what I can only assume was 10 minutes worth of work, yet still wrote the article anyway and tried to pass it off as some sort of cute insightful analysis of the entire industry of online dating. Come to think of it, there are plenty of things I have given up on after 10 minutes. Hey CNN! I need a job!"

If you want to, as this CNN.com writer says find "...a play land of false romantic promises and deferred risk” then by all means, follow his advice. Because not participating in life and not even bothering to try and look for that diamond in the rough is a sure way to REALLY make it a huge waste of time.

Mid-Century

I really like mid-century modern furniture. But clearly not as much as this person.

Been too long...

You know it's been too long in between blogs, when google asks you to re-sign in every time.

I only have one excuse. I punctured my eardrum. Granted, that was yesterday, but I think pre-pain was seeping in through parallel universes in the space-time continuum to give me phantom ear pain way in advance. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Some more random thoughts, because I'm too lazy to actually write a post with a coherent theme and meaning like Cheryl does EVERY FREAKING TIME. No, I'm not bitter. Just because she's a published writer, and awesome, and supercool...doesn't mean I secretly want to write a New York Times Bestseller just to show her up. Ok, maybe I do.

However, said best seller isn't more than 5 words long at the moment...so here are thoughts to ponder:

1. Michael Jackson's dead body. I mean, he was icky enough alive. Why would I want to see him dead?

2. Wood-fired Pizza. I would not think pizza could be better, but apparently firing it over wood does the trick. I would like to see Wood-fired Mac&Cheese, Wood-fired Bacon, and Wood-fired Cupcakes.

3. Cupcakes. Need I say more?

4. Paper. How is it that I seem to only have photo paper, or three hole punched paper in my house when I need to print something on regular paper. And when I need three holed paper, I only have regular paper. Or when I need to print on photo paper...you get the point.

5. Buffy. Sigh.

6. Who are these people that win the lottery? Has anyone ever known them? I have a suspicion they really don't exist, and the money is funneled in to government Black Ops programs. Not that I'm against Black Ops. I just would prefer to have the 39 million myself. Note to Black Ops people: I LOVE BLACK OPS! Do not show up at my door.

7. Why does an email to me, from me, always go into my spam folder? Jesus.

8. Does anyone want to get together and put really awesome neon puffy paint on our Keds?

9. Do kids still go to summer camp? I never hear about it anymore. Maybe it's because I don't have kids or befriend people with kids. Mainly because I hate kids, and wish they'd all go to camp.

10. Ebay higher volume purchased x discounted prices = the same freaking amount of money i would have spent on fewer things in better condition. Is having lots of crap better than having only some nice things?

My ear hurts. Enjoy yourselves, nasty readers who guilt me into writing blogs. Even though you don't email me, I know you're there.

Right?

Celebrating people you don't know!

Ah...the sweet sweet smell of office birthday cake.

NOT.

Why does it seem that every office birthday party has the same funky cake? Really stale super-sweet white cake with pudding between the layers, or, on a good day…mildly almost chocolate mousse. And it’s always topped with GIGANTIC purple flowers that not only stain your teeth, but taste like waxed paper. And it’s not like they come from the same store – I’ve seen the boxes. I’ve even been a member of the ‘let’s go somewhere new for cake’ committee, and gotten something that LOOKS way better. Something with berries on the top, say…but deep down, all cakes are the same.

The one exception cake was a wonderful tiny marzipan fondant almond cake from Sweet Lady Jane’s that I got from my ex-boss. And I didn’t like her. And she got me the best cake ever.

I’m sure there’s some MORAL there. I’m just too sugar-high to figure it out.

You know you're spending too much time on ebay when...

...you seriously consider buying a Hippo Planter.

I'm back!

So, I haven’t blogged in a while. Yes, I know what you’re thinking.

You: “I have been on the verge of slitting my wrists and you just keep mocking me with blank pages!”
Me: Wow, I didn’t know it affected you that…
You: “Yeah, well it does! And you keep on doing it! That’s it, we’re breaking up!”
Me: I don’t think we were dat…
You: “Don’t try to talk me out of it – we’re through! I SAID THROUGH!”
Me: um…ok.

You: "...and I want my Joni Mitchell records back."
Me: I don’t have any…
You: "SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE!"


Ok, not that you’d say 'shut your pie hole'. Only bad villains in bad 80’s movies say that. And you do sometimes. Admit it.

That being said, I thought I’d jot some thoughts down today on life, the universe and things. Just to keep you from your suicidal thoughts.

1. Thongs are stupid. Just like any other item designed to LOOK good, but not be useful, they really miss the point of underwear. Which I think is to guard your sensitive privates from scratchy jeans and sand and crap. Yes, I said sand.

2. When did we become so fearful of what people think? In times where jobs are tough, why can you just walk up to a person who you want to work with and say ‘hey- I’m a hard worker, and I like your style and I’d like you to pay me a small salary to assist you in any way I can.” Regardless if this is say… Steven Spielberg…we should be able to say that and not feel moronic. I guess it’s like the high school nerd who asks out the prom queen. There’s that latent fear of complete cafeteria ridicule and food throwing the next day if you get turned down. It’s not like Steven is going to throw his mystery meat at you. We should be able to just ask!

3. I love email. Love it. I prefer it above all other modes of communication. I can be on the webcam and the phone with my boyfriend at the same time, and then send him an email as well. I love it that much.

4. I hate texts. Hate them. I hate people who send me texts. They need to die.

5. I’m still confused about Facebook. Admit it – you are too. We’re on there, just milling around like some big sausage fest, and we don’t get it. Oh, we SAY we do…but we don’t.

6. I miss old school communication with perfume. Like poems, and letters, and calling cards. I wish I could pick up a calling card that smells like roses and know my secret lover was here to see me.

7. Sylvia Plath’s son committed suicide and there’s a ton of news about it. I want to feel sympathetic, but really, I feel like digging up his grave and shouting at his corpse. “You should have known better! – you knew first hand all about it and how it can affect people and you still did it!” Then maybe I’d stab him – to teach him a lesson.

8. I don’t understand the pirate pants look. You know, the knee high boots, and the high-water short gaucho pants. It’s a trend at my work – I just think of them as the ‘pirate wenches’ but really, the bottom line is it’s SUPER UNFLATTERING. It makes you look SUPER FAT girls. Stop it.

9. After years of drinking Arnold Palmers, I have decided that I actually do not like them. I just thought they were a cool idea. Good on paper, bad in the mouth.

10. Lastly, I am wondering how I can become a florist. Can I intern? Can I just create an album and send it around to places and see if they’ll hire me? I’m serious people. Help me out.

SO, there you have it…a list of fun things to ponder and pontificate on. Much like wondering if Bert and Ernie are gay…my thoughts are simultaneously useless and non-consequential.

And I want to reiterate that I do not have any Joni Mitchell records…

“SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE!”

this is BLASPHEMY!!!!

I love French fries. And I love bacon. But I don’t know if I love this.

Have I mentioned that I love this? Because I do.

And this.

And this.