jen

Oh, God, I hate spreading out cleaning house over multiple days.  I'd much rather just get it done all at once.  The problem, however, is I always either put off starting until late in the day, or stop in between tasks so many times that it's inevitable that the cleaning cup will runneth over (into tomorrow).

So it looks like tomorrow when I get home from work I'll be washing sheets and towels and making beds (HATE!) and also dusting (HATE! HATE! HATE!).  I attribute the utter hatred of dusting to the fact that, when I was a kid, dusting was the one housecleaning task my mother always let me do.  I attribute the utter hatred of making beds to laziness.

Aside from that, though, I have a thoroughly clean house.  JOY!  Well, except for sweeping the balcony and cleaning the furniture outside.  SUCK!

This calls for a morale-boosting icon of Cure-love.  For that, I choose Porl.  Though, I wish I had one of him in full eye-makeup glory from the North American wing of 4Tour.  All decked out, the man is a truly gorgeous sight to see.  Rock star, indeed.

And see?  Just the mere mention of The Cure banished all thought of housecleaning and put me in a better mood.  Hmmm...perhaps, then, the reason I didn't finish housecleaning today was that I had the concert from last week playing on the DVR all afternoon?  : p

For my own future reference, if nothing else....

Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed. Well, let's see.

1) Bold the books you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) I'm changing this one to...Capitalize those you actually own, but haven't yet read (or finished) because you're lazy.

Didn't think it was possible to love Robert Smith any more than I already did, but, after watching tonight's Madison Square Garden concert cut into an hour on FuseTV....

Around five minutes before the end, he starts ruminating about how he should probably be talking more and how, when he does, the rest of the band finds him "fucking amusing"...and he always ends up reading about it on the internet the next day, where people are saying "What did he say?"--"blargh blahdy-blah blah giblibble blarghity blah blah blah" (and OMG, literally, those were the sounds Robert Smith made WITH THE ACCOMPANYING FACIAL EXPRESSIONS).  And he says, "I speak very clearly, I think. Obviously not. clearly. enough."

Robert Smith wins at fucking everything ever in life.

And could Porl Thompson be any fucking cooler?

This totally calls for a new icon.  Perhaps several.

That was the most fucking amazing experience of my entire life.  

Three hours they played.  Three encores.  Only a couple of songs off the new album, so pretty much everything was something we knew and loved.  We had great seats and binoculars.  I could see Robert Smith so closely through them that I actually caught him mouth "I love you, too" to a fan on the floor.  Holy fucking shit.  I was in the same fucking room with Robert Smith last night.

It was the best night of my life.

 I'm stepping out in about half an hour to head to Charlotte to see THE CURE in concert tonight.  They've been my favorite band for 18 years and finally, finally I'm seeing them live tonight.

WOOOOOOO!

The Cure!!!!!!!!!

*notices the noisy neighbors haven't made a 3 a.m. wake up call in ages*

*wonders if the noisy neighbors have moved out*

*thinks they haven't*

*notices a new person moving in*

*guesses the noisy neighbors moved out after all*

*realizes it's midnight and the new neighbor is still moving in with family and friends, quite loudly*

*thinks a new noisy neighbor just moved in*

DAMMIT.

Today was a perfectly satisfying day.  Instead of cleaning house, which I (predictably) put off til tomorrow, I lazed around and spent money and ate well.  

It started with waking up early and catching a surprise episode of Nigella, then reading a little fanfic and running down to the corner for an egg & cheese bagel and a cup of (delicious!) blueberry coffee.  I came home and read a little more and putzed about on the 'net, catching up on e-mails and whatnot.  I took a shower with my brand new Banana Smoothie shampoo & shower gel, which smelled divine and made me smile.  And crave a banana.  So I had a banana for lunch and went shopping, where I bought many things, including: 

• a cute new doormat, which Home Depot (God bless them) gave me for $5 (!!!) because they couldn't find a price
• new windchimes (unlike the last set--though I loved them--these don't chime constantly to the point of driving me insane and also won't break during high wind)
• lots of adorable work clothes on BIG sale at Ann Taylor LOFT, where I had great coupons to use
• a pair of totally comfy Crocs sandals, which, while not being the navy flips I was looking for, will go just fine with the clothes I need them to go with

Then I came home and made a fantastic and filling veggie pita and salad for dinner, which means I'm rocking the WW points today!  And I'll still be able to have a lemon yogurt or something this evening, so yay!  Hopefully I'll be down a couple pounds this week--I ended the week quite well, even though I didn't start it well and used up all my flex points for once.  (Movie popcorn so owns me.)

And now, here I sit, finishing out the day in perfect fashion.  I'm chilling out on the balcony in delightful weather, listening to my iTunes (I had forgotten how much I adore Social Distortion...and Irish folk music just makes me happy) and reading some great fanfic.

Seriously, I need to marry rich so this can be my life everyday.  *g*

Til that happens, though, cleaning is on the agenda tomorrow.  Then back to real life.

Oh My *God*.

I'm not sure I've ever found an episode of television to be so very wonderful and completely horrible at the same time. And that's saying a lot, as those of you who've squee'd and *sigh*ed and ranted with me for the past 10 years in fandom might know. I am positively devastated.

Just. Beyond words.

"The Pain in the Heart" was totally the right title for this ep. Totally.

My Saturday has been made up of waking earlier than I do for work during the week so I could take the car to the shop because my Check Engine light had come on, to find out that--THANK *GOD*--it wasn't the transmission as I had feared, but was still $700 worth of repairs.  So I?  Am eating brownies.  For dinner.  Because I?  Am all about the comfort food.

Also?  Am spending the evening reading fanfic.  Instead of doing the various and sundry things that need doing.  Because my forthcoming $600 worth of economic stimulus?  Will be stimulating the mechanic's economic situation instead of mine. 

And my on-the-way-to-the-mechanic Starbucks?  Was not what I ordered.

Boo, hiss.

But at least it wasn't the transmission.  

And I have to say, Bones fanfic and brownie batter do amazing things to lift a mood.  The combination should be prescribed like medication.

What a great weekend. 

I got my dance on at that party Friday night.  It was fantastic--everything playing from '80s hits and classic rock (and I had a very sore throat the next morning from singing at the top of my lungs with a friend to Boston and Journey and AC/DC--awesome!) to techno and Stevie Wonder.  Definitely exactly what the doctor ordered, with a side of beer and viscious jell-o shots.  On the other hand, the guy that I was talking about earlier was there and my drunken friend was trying to push us together.  Awkward.  She stopped, though, when she noticed me giving her The Look of Painful Death and Revenge™.

It was great to reconnect with people I haven't seen in awhile.  Speaking of which, next weekend a friend of mine is visiting from Richmond--which means housecleaning.  Another reason why this weekend has been so great: procrastination.  Ah, that old double-edged sword.  Yeah, I've put off all the errands and chores, etc. in favor of listening to music and watching Bones and tooling around online.  So now, today, I have to clean house.  That also means that every evening this week is also earmarked for the various things I won't get to today--wrapping and mailing birthday presents, taking in the drycleaning, grocery shopping, sewing, catching up on e-mail, getting a haircut....

Blah.  At least I have good coffee.

 Wow.  I suck at writing in my LiveJournal.  I'm sure this comes as no surprise to those of you who know me, though.  Am I right?  Yeah.... 

So I'm going to a party this weekend.  And the coffee-and-godiva guy from last whenever (remember those LJ posts about how he was cramping my study-style during library school?) will be there.  I've seen him in social circles a few times since those posts originated, while trying to keep a distance, still.  Because apparently he's still harping on the fact that he "wasn't good enough" for me.  OMGSTFU.  Seriously?

I wonder what the chances are that I'll meet some random friend-of-a-friend at this party and he'll wind up being the man of my dreams.  I've been thinking of this a lot lately.  I blame Bones--the fandom that is currently eating me alive.  (note to rillaotvalley: when I come visit you next month, remind me to pick up a hot FBI agent at the Hoover building)  I also blame the girl throwing the party.  It's her birthday, and she says she's OLD.  She says this with emphasis and in all seriousness.  She's a year younger than me.  *rolls eyes til they fall out*  Is it possible for your biological clock to tick louder simply because someone else suggests it?

LALALALALACAN'THEARYOOOOOUUUUULALALALALA.  I refuse to get caught up in the whole "why am I single" thing.  I like being single.  

Oy.  Shut my brain up, please.

Happy New Year to all!  

My sense of time can be perfectly summed up in the fact that, last night, I blinked and the first 10 minutes of 2008 were gone.  I was all WTF? and had a sneaking suspicion that this was anvil-like foreshadowing of the year to come and the speed with which it would pass me by.  Thus, the significance of today's post's icon.

Nonetheless, I'm starting the new year off right--I went shopping after Christmas and bought a GORGEOUS new camel-colored, knee-length wool coat for a ridiculous price.  Then I found a fabulous, fitted, black velvet dress coat for an even more ridiculous price.  So, coat-wise at least, I am super-prepared to be all hot and chic and awesome this year.

And also organized--I bought a gorgeous pale-blue leather Franklin Covey day planner on sale at Target yesterday.  It is SO CUTE!

Back home to NC today and then back to work tomorrow with a big project ready and waiting to go live.  New year, indeed.  And definitely happy!  :o)

I am SO PROUD of my clingy girlfriend!  SO PROUD!  She passed her VERYVERY difficult, 8-hour engineering exam that has been stressing her out since October!  WOOT!  PROUDPROUDPROUD to the extreme!

Love you, Rhi!  You rock like a smart thing, you P.E.!

Pee Ess: My parents are super proud of you, too, and send their love and congratulations!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY rillaotvalley  !!!!! 

You're the coolest new member of the "I'm 30 and cool" club.  GO YOU!  : )

I was just making a quadruple batch of Molten Chocolate Babycakes (and yes--thanks for asking--I am insane. quadruple batch at 10pm and all that.) and I'll be damned if as soon as I poured in the melted, cooled chocolate--the chocolate that I watched drizzle in purely liquid, not lumpy in the slightest--it lumped up into a giant quadruple mass of baseball-chocolate, totally useless and mocking.

I tried to mash it up again, but being a quadruple-baseball I had to switch to the Louisville Slugger of wooden spoons in my arsenal. For those of you into sports flicks, I was almost afraid mine would crack á la "The Natural". Ultimately, though, it didn't work for shit.

Nice.

So I popped the beater back on The Best Kitchen Purchase of All Time™--my Kitchenaid stand mixer. And beat the hell out of the baseball. Now it resembles the smooth batter it's supposed to be. HA!

I think Starship's "We Built This City" is, quite possibly, the finest song to come out of the 1980s.  It's now a proven fact that that song can pull a girl out of the deepest of funks.

And LL Cool J?  So definitely cool.  

Dean Martin?  Awesome.

Oh, iTunes...how I love the shuffle.

So the other day I came home and headed straight for the guest bathroom (it's marginally closer than the master and, dammit, I had to pee).  I sat down...and promptly fell in.  Surprise!  Toilet seat's up!  After the initial WTF?! (it fucking hurt, and I live with no guys), I realized that maintenance had been scheduled to come that morning and change out my A/C filter.  Presumably, one of the guys chose my place for his pit stop.  Whatever. 

So yesterday, I sit down in the guest bathroom again, and reach for the toilet paper--roll's empty.  Another WTF?! moment.  I suppose it's possible that I could have used it all and not changed the roll and not remembered either using it all or not changing the roll (sounds a little suspect to me, though).  Thing is, I don't use that bathroom very often.  And I'm pretty anal--I'd change the roll if it was out.  

Seriously, WTF?  I guess I'll just assume that my mind's going, because any of the other possibilities kinda freak me out.

It's almost 2:30 am and I want to fucking stay up and be all back into LJ.  WTF?!  Did I not predict this?!  Is this not why I stayed away for so long?!  Let this be a lesson to you all: 

Do not deny the LJ, no matter how wise and prudent it may seem.  Th LJ will always come back to bite you on the ass.

I'm going to bed now.  Even though I just said not to deny the LJ.  Which I'm now doing again, apparently.  Hey, do as I say, not as I do.

Huh.  Okay, it would appear I'm back.  Desperately trying to find a balance between catching up with all I've missed on LJ and all I should be doing instead (though, to be honest, at the moment it's just sleep that's coming in second to LJ).  Ah, fuck it--LJ's more important than real life.  Or at least more fun.

OMG, I had forgotten how awesome my icons were.  How on earth do I pick just one to represent my reappearance?  Do I pick Harry Potter (since I just saw OotP--and, let me tell you, it was bloody brilliant!), or do I pick Bitch!Face Sam (only because it's just effing hilarious), or do I pick "blahblah" Lizzy Bennet (since I've obviously got nothing of any type of importance or intelligence to impart in this post), or do I pick STFU Lydia (since my illustrious return is such a "holy shit!" moment)....  

No.  I'll pick the one true Icon of Awesome Returning.  I can hear the soundtrack now....

Okay, so I'm procrastinating.  What?  You thought I was done with that now that school's finished?  Nope.  I'm a lifetime member of the procrastinator's club.  Apparently, I get it from my mother, who I remember staying up til all hours the night before Halloween every year to finish our costumes.  She always did, and they always rocked...and now the torch has been passed down to the next generation. 

So anyway, the good news--should I ever get a job interview--is that I still have one suit that looks reasonably good.  The other two are now humongous and unusable, though still gorgeous.  What a shame.  The one that's viable now is actually one that I pieced together: I bought a beautiful charcoal wool jacket when I lived in England--it was on sale for 15 pounds (about $30 on today's market), marked down from 90 ($180) because it only had one shoulder pad.  I paid 15 for it and just ripped open the lining, took out the shoulder pad, and sewed it back up again.  Looks perfectly fine now.  Anyway, it took me forever to find pants that matched the color and fabric, but I did.  They look almost perfect together, and I say almost because--even if no one else notices, and I guarantee they don't--I still know they're two separate pieces.

I want to go shopping for a new suit, however, I need a job in order to pay for it...and you can see how this is a catch-22.  Hopefully I'll get an interview and an offer before I lose any more weight--or else this suit won't fit either, and I'll be screwed.  Hmmm...maybe I should prepare myself mentally for the possibility of a job (interview) by getting that massage I have coming to me (thanks again, Rilla!).  I love my crazy, incongruous thought processes.