Maria wants me to inform you that that’s the Valentine’s Day IdiotCam©, up above. Mostly we both just like it because there’s chocolate involved. Chocolate!
Category: Roommates
Lady In The Next Cube must be having a rough day–she turned on the radio at 0900 and hasn’t turned it off since, which means that since the batteries are dead on my Discman, we both get to enjoy it. As I told Maria, I now understand that they really meant Soft Rock Music. All Day Long.
So yeah, basically I’ve spent the day trying to decide whether I could crash through the plate-glass window wall, and if the resulting fall would kill me. Soft Rock Hits. All Day Long. I didn’t think I was going to make it, but then–could it be? Yes!
I was saved by Wham!. Careless Whisper came on and revived my flagging spirits by reminding me of the BNL live cover to which Jon and I used to rock out in college. Glory be.
It was quickly erased by Sheryl Crow, of course, but still.
Pain is A-ALL YOU’LL FI-I-IND!
Wikipedia has an interesting list of List of people known as The Great, or similar. There is a distinct lack of people named “The Mighty,” however. Since it is a wiki, I’m tempted to just open up the page and put myself and all my friends on it (“Jon the Fierce,” “Maria the Quotable,” “Yale the Cranky”), but I’m too moral (“Brendan the Moral?”). Wow, the wiki model really does work!
(Link via FTrain.)
I wear a winter hat in the winter–the kind of hat variously referred to as a wool hat, a skiing hat, a skull beanie or a sipple cap. You know what I mean. Mine is dark blue and says GUSTER on the front. It keeps keep me warm very nicely, but because I have ridiculously fine hair, removing it causes a static explosion–the kind of wildly divergent hairdo that made me a pariah for life in middle school and now causes my roommate no end of amusement.
The other day in Prob ‘n’ Stat, I looked around the class at perfect coifs and wondered if anyone else there wore my kind of hat. If so, how did they keep–wait! There were people wearing wool hats! They apparently just never take them off all day.
That’s brilliant!
Calling All Puppies
Maria asks me to mention that her birthday is on Thursday, and ergo, someone should buy her a puppy. She wants a puppy. I request the same thing, with the addendum that you keep it at your own house, and also feed and water and take care of it and pay for its shots.
Just… just get your own puppy.
Maria and I played the “Try To Name All 50 States” game a little bit ago. In eighth grade (which, incidentally, is when I acquired my spelling block about the word Massechuse- Massachusetts), I could have done that without batting an eye. Tonight, Maria got a perfect score. She beat me. By thirteen.
Last night I forced Ken to eat the worst chicken parmesan I’ve ever made (Maria, wisely, pleaded a weak stomach) and then we made DC come over and randomly watched Empire. Which, you know what? Is a pretty funny movie.
For instance, up until Cloud City, somebody dies every time Darth Vader is on camera. He strangles people who take responsibility, he strangles people through the TV screen, he strangles people while other people pretend not to notice. And then there’s the part where one of the Star Destroyers gets hit by an asteroid, and its captain in the little holo-display looks horrified and disappears, and Vader doesn’t bat an eye. Or doesn’t act like it, anyway. Finally, at the end, after they barely lose the Falcon, Admiral Piett (who’s been standing around nervously as others fall like wheat the whole movie) watches Vader walk off in a cold silence and just swallows once. The expression on his face is great.
Maybe that’s the problem: thinking about the last two movies, I can only remember two jokes that didn’t involve Jar Jar.
- The day before yesterday, Maria made carrot cake, and just moments ago, we used it to have carrot cake soup for breakfast.
- Yes.
- Oh God yes.
As today’s Stone Soup points out, it’s actually pretty silly to even think about working today, but for some reason I did, and dragged myself out of bed at 6:30 just as normal. It was a little strange to be one of like four (as opposed to eighty) people waiting for an elevator, and a little stranger when all the lights on our part of the floor were deliberately off. When I read that comic strip and waited an hour and still only tech support was there, I took off like one of the wiser characters in a survival horror movie.
After that I mostly… slept? And played Double Dash. Maria got a GameCube for Christmas, so unless she bans me from using it I’ll probably never accomplish anything worthwhile again. We actually unlocked almost everything on New Year’s Eve, along with our stay-in-and-snack companion Lisa, but we lacked a memory card at that point and were bereft of saving ability. I got one of those on the aforementioned trip home from work today, so now we get to do it all again. This is a fine and noble thing.
Tonight it’s out to dinner at some fancy place where they make you eat so slowly that it takes two hours to finish the soup, then Strizzle Lizzle rehizzle, and finally sometime after midnight Ian and I will drive to the hinterlands and crash (as in sleep, not… hit things). The next morning, we and forty of our closest relatives will race tiny cars down a track for eight hours until one emerges supreme. Seriously. We’ve been doing it every year since before I was born.