Hm. I'm upset that Andy Milonakis is thirty. This information is going to haunt me for hours. I used to think he was this oddly impressive and clever adolescent. Now I'm creeped out. It's just too much.
The things I love most about working at LNT are, in no particular order: Damaged food/Floam, co-workers I couldn't make up, co-workers I legitimately love, sniffing candles, subconsciously sassing "guests", feather dusters, and the fact that I get to semi-quit again in three months. Today I thought about how cool it would be to film a ball of Floam slowly sinking into a pancake and then speed it up to make it look like it was morphing. I also ripped my work khakis right down the inseam, from crotch to knee, two hours before I got to leave. Thank God for aprons.
Lost is irritating. But at least now we know why the plane crashed...maybe. Whatever, Grey's is hot.
I can't decide how I feel about Extreme Extended Family Weekend in Canada this weekend.
I would like to go back to Boston someday very very soon. I'm missing Sicilia's, and I guess I'm missing my little room-bihds, too.
Duty calls again tomorrow, so bed is probably a good idea. Gotta rest up for all the dusting and stapling and sniffing.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Cannes-tastic.
I just wanted to let you all know that if you don't see me for the next few days, it is because I have jetted off to Cannes for the film festival.
So if you think you'll find me "doing my little turn on the catwalk" in Fabulous Designs by Natalie or working at Linens N Things this weekend, you are sadly, sadly mistaken because those are all just lies I told all of you so that you wouldn't be jealous of the fact that Cannes is just so so so beautiful and when you throw world premiers of The DaVinci Code, Marie Antoinette, and Paris, Je T'Aime into the mix, well, you can see why I wanted to protect your feelings.
So if you think you'll find me "doing my little turn on the catwalk" in Fabulous Designs by Natalie or working at Linens N Things this weekend, you are sadly, sadly mistaken because those are all just lies I told all of you so that you wouldn't be jealous of the fact that Cannes is just so so so beautiful and when you throw world premiers of The DaVinci Code, Marie Antoinette, and Paris, Je T'Aime into the mix, well, you can see why I wanted to protect your feelings.
Psyche.
Monday, May 1, 2006
Friends don't let friends eat grocery store ice cream.
Last year learned that sometimes it's possible for people to just suck, and that's all you can and need to say, because that's all there is to them. They suck.
This year I've learned that those beautiful flowery paintings that you may or may not have seen of Boston Common are in fact done from life. I've never seen so many huge flowered trees look so fantastic before in all my days. I've always loved the contrast of flowers in the city, like those huge bouquets of tulips that people sell in the subway. Any flower looks more beautiful in the subway, and flowered trees and mini gardens look that much more beautiful when they're scattered around the city. I actually think that even the bums and the heroin dealers that are usually in the Common acknowlege how pretty everything is, and just disappear for awhile to let people enjoy the grass and the baby leaves and those damn swan boats that are just too appropriately picturesque for words.
I love mes amis and I love May and I love Berry Berry Berry Good in a waffle cone and I love Wicked and I love Grey's Anatomy and I love tomato/basil/proscuitto/mozzarella sandwiches on sesame bread and I love little sprouts of ivy and I love John Williams and I love beating the Red Sox Rush on the D Line and I love Emerson, even though they refund me $30 for a $115 psychology book that I barely touched and I think I love Hint of Lime Tostitos, but I'm not quite sure yet.
Everything that sucks, well that's too bad for you because you have to deal with the fact that even Hint of Lime Tositios are more likeable.
And that's saying something, because tortilla chips covered in limey powder are pretty strange.
This year I've learned that those beautiful flowery paintings that you may or may not have seen of Boston Common are in fact done from life. I've never seen so many huge flowered trees look so fantastic before in all my days. I've always loved the contrast of flowers in the city, like those huge bouquets of tulips that people sell in the subway. Any flower looks more beautiful in the subway, and flowered trees and mini gardens look that much more beautiful when they're scattered around the city. I actually think that even the bums and the heroin dealers that are usually in the Common acknowlege how pretty everything is, and just disappear for awhile to let people enjoy the grass and the baby leaves and those damn swan boats that are just too appropriately picturesque for words.
I love mes amis and I love May and I love Berry Berry Berry Good in a waffle cone and I love Wicked and I love Grey's Anatomy and I love tomato/basil/proscuitto/mozzarella sandwiches on sesame bread and I love little sprouts of ivy and I love John Williams and I love beating the Red Sox Rush on the D Line and I love Emerson, even though they refund me $30 for a $115 psychology book that I barely touched and I think I love Hint of Lime Tostitos, but I'm not quite sure yet.
Everything that sucks, well that's too bad for you because you have to deal with the fact that even Hint of Lime Tositios are more likeable.
And that's saying something, because tortilla chips covered in limey powder are pretty strange.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
"When you stare at something for a long time, it just looks so...right."
Happy Holocaust Remembrance Day!
Last night being Holocaust Remembrance Day Eve, I decided to sit my roommates down and force them to watch Schindler's List, so we could, you know, remember the Holocaust. After five minutes they opted to switch to The Sweetest Thing, starring Cameron Diaz.
In other news, the man who lives downstairs from me is a genuine creep who molests his cat, his legitimate pet feline animal. In the hallway. It's a huge cat and he's foreign.
I'm getting closer and closer and closer to The End of School. Which is kind of sad, because I'll miss it, but also okay because summer's fun, and next year will be pretty bitchin', and Cherry Hill is more delicious than ever, no lie, ten cents MORE delicious, but what can you do.
I really hope that I have a job this summer, because not only does Jill from Linens N Things NOT call people back, she also likes to leave them on HOLD for twenty minutes. I hung up. I feel like holding on a cell phone for that long could definitely give you a brain tumor or something.
Last night I had a really sweet dream that I was in school learning how to morph into an animal, like Hogwarts, but just all about morphing into animals. I wish I remembered more of it. Pratically the only time of day I'm NOT staring at some kind of screen is when I'm sleeping, but even then, I dream in the third person. I should probably read more.
Last night being Holocaust Remembrance Day Eve, I decided to sit my roommates down and force them to watch Schindler's List, so we could, you know, remember the Holocaust. After five minutes they opted to switch to The Sweetest Thing, starring Cameron Diaz.
In other news, the man who lives downstairs from me is a genuine creep who molests his cat, his legitimate pet feline animal. In the hallway. It's a huge cat and he's foreign.
I'm getting closer and closer and closer to The End of School. Which is kind of sad, because I'll miss it, but also okay because summer's fun, and next year will be pretty bitchin', and Cherry Hill is more delicious than ever, no lie, ten cents MORE delicious, but what can you do.
I really hope that I have a job this summer, because not only does Jill from Linens N Things NOT call people back, she also likes to leave them on HOLD for twenty minutes. I hung up. I feel like holding on a cell phone for that long could definitely give you a brain tumor or something.
Last night I had a really sweet dream that I was in school learning how to morph into an animal, like Hogwarts, but just all about morphing into animals. I wish I remembered more of it. Pratically the only time of day I'm NOT staring at some kind of screen is when I'm sleeping, but even then, I dream in the third person. I should probably read more.
Monday, April 10, 2006
"I indulged in a little weughm this morning." Natalie "Eahly Bihd" Zekos on being the first to wake up today.
| You Are 50% Weird |
 Normal enough to know that you're weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it! |
As satisfying as it is to cross off the little demands on my To Do list, I can't seem to help wasting time finding out about myself via PERSONALITY TESTS.
I always seem to do the easy tasks first. Makes sense.
If wasting time were a sport...I'd be on Varsity fer sher.
Yesterday with Kristina and Anna I ate so much McDonald's that I can pretty much still taste it and feel it festering in my stomach, 24 hours later. Love it though.
Liz thinks people can eat opium. This isn't right, is it? All my opium expert friends...
Natalie has decided to "soften her touch" and become creepy beyond all reason. This means instead of punching you, she strokes you.
Eleanor doesn't talk anymore and just sleeps for years.
There's your update on the occupants of 100 Riverway.
I'm up to my earlobes in significant work and Grey's Anatomy makes me think I wish I were a surgeon, because everyone on that show is awesome and seems like they would be good friends for me, so then I have to watch the behind the scenes special feature on my season one DVD to remind myself that I hate blood and love television.
I always seem to do the easy tasks first. Makes sense.
If wasting time were a sport...I'd be on Varsity fer sher.
Yesterday with Kristina and Anna I ate so much McDonald's that I can pretty much still taste it and feel it festering in my stomach, 24 hours later. Love it though.
Liz thinks people can eat opium. This isn't right, is it? All my opium expert friends...
Natalie has decided to "soften her touch" and become creepy beyond all reason. This means instead of punching you, she strokes you.
Eleanor doesn't talk anymore and just sleeps for years.
There's your update on the occupants of 100 Riverway.
I'm up to my earlobes in significant work and Grey's Anatomy makes me think I wish I were a surgeon, because everyone on that show is awesome and seems like they would be good friends for me, so then I have to watch the behind the scenes special feature on my season one DVD to remind myself that I hate blood and love television.
Thursday, April 6, 2006
Nobody knows where they might end up.
It's interesting what a too close for comfort freak accident will make you think about. It makes you think about how miniscule you are, and how your life could literally just end at any moment without any warning and without any regard for what you want or what you need to say or what you have to do. It makes you think about the people around you, and just people in general. It makes you think about how much people care about you, and how much you care about them. It makes you not want to leave anything unsaid or undone and it makes you realize that grudges are stupid. It makes you grateful for every moment and for the little miracle that is making it through the day. It could make you think of morbid and depressing things.
What I've learned from a too close for comfort freak accident is that thinking about morbid and depressing things is pointless. What's meant to happen is going to happen, and it'll happen for a reason. Things will happen that I can't even begin to worry or think about, and there's nothing I can do. If this is fate, than I believe in it. Scary and sad as it may be, in a way I'm really comforted by it, because it makes me believe in good luck too, and when all you want to do is head for Hollywood like everyone else, you need to believe in good luck.
Sometimes what happens randomly in real life is so perfectly scripted that I have to remind myself, once again, that I'm not living in a movie.
...Yet.
What I've learned from a too close for comfort freak accident is that thinking about morbid and depressing things is pointless. What's meant to happen is going to happen, and it'll happen for a reason. Things will happen that I can't even begin to worry or think about, and there's nothing I can do. If this is fate, than I believe in it. Scary and sad as it may be, in a way I'm really comforted by it, because it makes me believe in good luck too, and when all you want to do is head for Hollywood like everyone else, you need to believe in good luck.
Sometimes what happens randomly in real life is so perfectly scripted that I have to remind myself, once again, that I'm not living in a movie.
...Yet.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
"I miss bumpin' Jeezy wit you in my whip."
I love Bedtime Magic and getting sexed up via the radio by David Allen Boucher.
It's just weird to me that David Allen Boucher is a faceless radio personality who says things like "Where is your heart tonight? I know where it is...it's here...on Magic...106.7." Really David? GRANT MY THREE IN A ROW REQUEST, DAMMIT.
It's just weird to me that David Allen Boucher is a faceless radio personality who says things like "Where is your heart tonight? I know where it is...it's here...on Magic...106.7." Really David? GRANT MY THREE IN A ROW REQUEST, DAMMIT.
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