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It's all too clear we're on our own.
Jan. 29th, 2008 06:19 amSometime recently--maybe last week, I realized/admitted/realized that I have no idea what I want to do with my life. And perhaps not surprisingly, once I did that, I lost all of my fear about not knowing what I want to do with my life. And then I started figuring out things.
After I got that perfume package, I was all hyped and in a perfume haze. Then I dropped my iPod. I've dropped it uncountable times but this time it hit my perfume box, which knocked the clickwheel out of place and blah blah blah, the headphone jack is fuxx0r3d. Which I guess is okay, since the headphones broke the next day when I was using them with my old-ass Walkman. Oh and apparently the Walkman isn't working now, either. I'm like Powder with electronics, I swear. I'm already twitchy without my iPod but it's especially annoying now that I'm trying to train for a marathon.
So I called up Steve Jobs and I was all like, "HALP," and he was like, "I'm on it, Salome!" et voila. I've got one of these coming to me as well, so I don't have to worry about my iPod breaking free from my waistband and skittering across the sidewalk into the road.
Speaking of consumerism (the President has me excited about my free gubmint moneys!), I don't get a lot of the hype over Nike Dunks. Or the hype over being a hype beast for that matter. I just don't get it. Boys'll be like, "Check these new alife kicks!" or "They're adding two new colorways to the Some Sneaker collection" and I'm like, "..." I guess they feel the same way when I start throwing around words like opoponax and vetiver, though. This is all to say that I can't believe how in love I am with the new Air Jordan Force Fusion XIIs. Ohhhhhh. What is wrong with me? I can't look at that without getting just a little teary and hoping against hope that they'll make them in a teeny girl-size size. Oh and have I mentioned? I don't wear sneakers! Only when I'm running.
Speaking of the President, I saw this cartoon in the paper over the weekend and found myself wondering how we got stuck with this assemblage of (for the most part) turd sandwiches and giant douches. And then it hit me that of course, we get what we deserve.
Oolong keeps distracting me by swimming over and puffing up at...something. I think he doesn't like my microphone. He's very territorial about his side of the desk. I tossed my scarf over there when I came in the other day and I caught him puffing up at it. He continues to be awesomely weird, is what I'm saying.
I've been watching The Wire from the beginning. Oh, Wallace. I make this face at least once a day at my job, too.
Raves: Numi Monkey King Jasmine Green Tea, "Nine in the Afternoon" by PATD--I've been listening to a live version from Reading since Reading but I really like the new official version, The Wire, the horror movie Storm Warning--not perfect but Nadia Fares* kicks so much ass that she almost made me forget about that other horror movie set in Australia.
Rants: Yogi Bedtime tea--mmm toothpaste, my boring American history professor
*Look at this magnificent creature--she's not even scared at this point. More like primed for ass-kicking.
After I got that perfume package, I was all hyped and in a perfume haze. Then I dropped my iPod. I've dropped it uncountable times but this time it hit my perfume box, which knocked the clickwheel out of place and blah blah blah, the headphone jack is fuxx0r3d. Which I guess is okay, since the headphones broke the next day when I was using them with my old-ass Walkman. Oh and apparently the Walkman isn't working now, either. I'm like Powder with electronics, I swear. I'm already twitchy without my iPod but it's especially annoying now that I'm trying to train for a marathon.
So I called up Steve Jobs and I was all like, "HALP," and he was like, "I'm on it, Salome!" et voila. I've got one of these coming to me as well, so I don't have to worry about my iPod breaking free from my waistband and skittering across the sidewalk into the road.
Speaking of consumerism (the President has me excited about my free gubmint moneys!), I don't get a lot of the hype over Nike Dunks. Or the hype over being a hype beast for that matter. I just don't get it. Boys'll be like, "Check these new alife kicks!" or "They're adding two new colorways to the Some Sneaker collection" and I'm like, "..." I guess they feel the same way when I start throwing around words like opoponax and vetiver, though. This is all to say that I can't believe how in love I am with the new Air Jordan Force Fusion XIIs. Ohhhhhh. What is wrong with me? I can't look at that without getting just a little teary and hoping against hope that they'll make them in a teeny girl-size size. Oh and have I mentioned? I don't wear sneakers! Only when I'm running.
Speaking of the President, I saw this cartoon in the paper over the weekend and found myself wondering how we got stuck with this assemblage of (for the most part) turd sandwiches and giant douches. And then it hit me that of course, we get what we deserve.
Oolong keeps distracting me by swimming over and puffing up at...something. I think he doesn't like my microphone. He's very territorial about his side of the desk. I tossed my scarf over there when I came in the other day and I caught him puffing up at it. He continues to be awesomely weird, is what I'm saying.
I've been watching The Wire from the beginning. Oh, Wallace. I make this face at least once a day at my job, too.
Raves: Numi Monkey King Jasmine Green Tea, "Nine in the Afternoon" by PATD--I've been listening to a live version from Reading since Reading but I really like the new official version, The Wire, the horror movie Storm Warning--not perfect but Nadia Fares* kicks so much ass that she almost made me forget about that other horror movie set in Australia.
Rants: Yogi Bedtime tea--mmm toothpaste, my boring American history professor
*Look at this magnificent creature--she's not even scared at this point. More like primed for ass-kicking.
