March 2003 Archives

Must. Find. Job.

"Bucket of Fuck" and "Fuck It Bucket" are two totally different things. Just so we're all clear.

Shameless plug: My sister has her own blog now.

I still have a frog in my throat today. I think the copious amounts of second-hand smoke and yelling on Friday night did it. And while we're talking about smoke... yes, I realize that smokers are free to choose to continue to do themselves bodily harm, knowing the risks, but it still annoys the fuck out of us non-smokers. And don't think that I don't notice the little tricks you pull to enable yourself to smoke at will, regardless of the comfort of your companions. At least be polite enough to ask your companions if they mind if you blow that nasty shit in their faces all night long. I'm just sayin'.

Three days to Margaret Cho!

Aside from the other people at the concert (what is it with college boys and not cutting their hair? or is it just Marquette students?), the Guster show in Milwaukee was great. They played Two Points for Honesty! They never used to play that one live. That's my second favoritest Guster song after Demons. We weren't close enough for our ping pong balls to make it all the way to the stage during Airport Song, but we weren't the only ones with ping pong balls, either, so it was all good. I did not steal watergirl's idea and write "swirlspice.com" on the ping pong balls before tossing them.

Aside from that, my weekend in Wisconsin was good. I love those girls. I think if I were still living in Minneapolis but not working, I would have visited them a lot more over the last 5 months. Always fun. I saw City of God. Jeebus, that's a violent and very intense movie, but it was good. I hadn't realized it was based on a true story (of life and gang violence in a slum outside of Rio de Janeiro). It was very beautifully shot and the story was very well told, I thought.

Did some outlet-store-shopping. Do they continue to carry Om in every Gap Outlet store? I was so excited to see it I had to buy some, because that is my favorite Gap Scent, and quite possibly my favorite scent ever. I got to watch TLC! Woot! Trading Spaces AND While You Were Out AND What Not to Wear. I think Carla's ceiling fans have some sort of opiate delivery system because I swear I did not want to wake up, I was so warm and comfy and cozy. Nice nap. Good night's sleep. And I really like touching her couch. Such a marvelous texture.

I'm off to Wisconsin for Guster and good times. Peace out One love, yo.

Some police officers really are bitches/assholes, just for the sake of being bitchy/ass-like.

I'm on a mission to get ping pong balls. I go to Target. They don't have them. I think "I'll go to Toys'R'Us." I drive to TRU. They don't have them. I remember while I'm there that there's a Dunham's Sports in the same complex as the Target I just came from, so I resign myself to heading back there.

I pull out of the TRU parking lot onto the service drive, and I'm maybe 500 feet from the traffic light to turn out onto Telegraph. I see a yellow light, step on the gas, check again, still see yellow light, and proceed through the light, pulling all the way over to the left and into the turn lane so I can bust a Michigan Left and head back south on Telegraph.

I see a cop in the rear view mirror with flashing lights. I'm all "what the..." and bitch comes on the loudspeaker and says "After the light turns green, pull over on the other side of the street." (And she didn't just say it matter-of-factly, she totally took a tone!) I wait for the light, wait for the other cars to go through, and then pull into a parking lot on the other side of Telegraph.

I already had my DL/registration/insurance out because we had to sit through that whole light. She asks for it, I hand it to her, and she's half walking away already as she says, "I pulled you over for running that red light." I yelled out, "I swear all I saw was yellow light" but she was already gone.

She does her business, comes back and hands me my stuff and the ticket info with the obligatory "read the card, it'll tell you what to do." She then informs me that she "did me a favor" because she only wrote me up for "disobeying a traffic control device" which is 2 points and gave me a warning on the red light which would have been 3 points. I can barely read most of the carbon-copied ticket info and I can't at all read what she wrote in the comments section, but I do see that she has written "I saw a yellow light" in the box.

I can see how the light might have turned red as I was underneath it, but I watched that light as I went through it and I never saw red. PLUS, she would have also had to have run the light to pull me over in the first place. But that's okay because she's a cop and can do whatever the hell she wants to. I chalk it up to needing to fulfill her quota because the end of the month is coming up.

I am so going to court on this one.

Survivor: That was one of the sweetest episodes of Survivor I've ever seen. Roger did not have an iota of a clue. *waves* Awwwwwwww, see ya! *jabs finger menacingly in the air* ChumpDickWussDoooouchebagAssholePrickCheaterBitchWHORE!** I still can't explain it, but I totally have a thing going for Deena now. And I don't even hate Rob so much anymore (but he's still a weasel). And maybe I'm the only one here, but when I hear "silver bullet" I do not think of Coors Light.

American Idol: Didn't watch it, but I hear Julia DeMato's gone. 'Bout damn time.

Wanda at Large: Cracked. My. Shit. Up. "Flaggots"? Heh. Interesting that her sister-in-law is white (and thus her niece and nephew are swirls!). Shouldn't be a big deal, but it kind of is.

And what is it with People Who Formerly Appeared On The Practice being in sitcoms now? Jason Kravits (played Richard Bay) is on Wanda now. And the guy who played the politician whose wife framed him for murder when the dead dude in the bed was actually his lover - he's the dad-type on The Pitts. Monday's double Practice episodes were good. I had to totally crack up when, at a totally serious moment with Christopher Reeve, Meredith Vieira pops her head in and announces that the jury's coming back. Mainly because she had talked about it on The View and shown all these outtakes and... whatever. Yeah. I love me some Meredith.

**Michigan Hockey!

Gays think like women and lesbians' brains work like heterosexual men's, according to a new study by English psychiatrists.

Me: "I really hope this Nestle job works out." (I've decided the promising-looking job opp is probably with Nestle in Kansas City, but still don't have confirmation.)
Mom: "Well, all you've got to do is pray. And claim it. Do you know what "claim it" means? Picture yourself there and it will come to be. Do you even pray?"
Me: "Not really. But I can do some wishful thinking and positive imagery."
Mom: *shakes head* "I don't know how you can mumblemumble without prayer."

I then huffed, rolled my eyes, and walked out of the room. She didn't mean much by it, judging by the inconsequentially flippant comment she made next, but it really bothered me for some reason. We went from trying to have a positive attitude to her disdain of my ways which she cannot understand. She always tells me, "sometimes it's not what you say, it's how you say it" and I guess this is a perfect example. It's not an emotional catastrophe. It's not like she's unsupportive. But it sure did ruin the moment. There's a time and a place for comments like that. I don't know what that time or place would be because it's not like I want to hear it.

I'll just be grateful that she's not one of those religions that sends people to knock on your door on Saturday morning.

The Hidden Diary of Pu-Say Hussein (Saddam's unusual daughter)

... but I'm making an effort to be positive today. It mostly revolved around the general cluelessness of my dad. No big whoop.

I applied for a whole slew of jobs (okay, it was three, but these didn't require huge stretching/spinning of my qualifications, and they were in desirable locations). I'm about to call the recruiter in California about the process development job in Missouri. I'm guessing it's gonna be Monsanto or Purina (a division of Nestle!), both of which mean St. Louis which means if nothing else in a location that I actually want turns up I'll consider it ('cause if it's not STL or KC, there's no way I'd do it).

The weather's still nice. I came across some delightful pictures that I've been totally drooling over and I might share them when I get my own computer back. Survivor's on tonight!

My stress seems to have gone away for the moment. It'll ratchet back up when I go babysit tomorrow.

Okay, one complaint. Peter Jennings was talking to a retired Army Captain the other day (her full name escapes me now), and as he's introducing her, he asks her what he should call her. "Rosemary or captain or...?" She replied, very curtly, "I'm a retired captain. You can call me Captain." If she were a he, Peter totally would not have said that. He's been boring me lately anyway, so that was the official last straw in my ABC News watching.

UPDATE: Problem solved. Never mind. But you should still see Guster in a city near you (this is Thursday if you live in the Detroit area and Sunday if you live in the Twin Cities).

I've been really anxious today. Like sweaty palms, increased heart rate, twitchy anxious. I think it's a combo of job searching and sympathy stress for my mom. And sometimes nice weather does this to me, too, like it wants me to come out and enjoy it but instead I'm down in the basement on the computer.

I turned down the substitute teaching opportunity, but did agree to babysit on Thursday night. Good thing Survivor's on Wednesday.

There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for how the person whom I thought might be the Friend of the Parents found me and why the trail of clues looks like it does. It could very well not be the Friend of the Parents. I feel better. On a semi-related note, there's an article in today's Detroit News about blogging, featuring some local bloggers. I got the link from Ismat and she's featured in the article.

And I figured out why my "grab the link to this post" links were broken and I fixed it. Such a sense of accomplishment, I have. Comments galore today! I feel loved and this is highly entertaining. Say hi, dammit! I just noticed that I'm muttering to myself as I type this all out.

When using the bathroom that the daycare kids usually use, it is wise to always check the seat before sitting.

I added a new toy that gives me a little more comprehensive view of who visits me here, and now I'm thinking maybe I just didn't need to know. Actually, I'm mostly just curious because I think there are people that I know that are reading that haven't said that they're reading. In some cases it's pretty easy to narrow down who's who. I mean, I wouldn't have given the address out if I cared that much, but it's just easier to say stuff when I don't think about who I'm saying it to.

Okay, this mostly boils down to the fact that someone, say someone of the Friend Of The Parents variety, seems to have logged on one day after I wrote this. I could be totally wrong, but... I don't think I am.

And thus concludes my daily dose of paranoia.

I totally want to see Celine Dion in Las Vegas.

The result of the issue my sister was protesting. There may not be any pending changes, but hopefully a statement was made.

It appears that some folks that I thought weren't capable of showing their updatedness in the blogroll are all of a sudden doing so! That means either free blogspot has made a change, or everyone's all of a sudden upgraded to Blogger Pro, or blogroll did something fun. Or maybe they're just self-pinging. And I'm pinging again! Phew. (UPDATE: It turns out that Blogroll did something fun!)

In other news, the theme for Sunday was Guilt! We ran into some friends of the fam while out at dinner last night (it was the Kellys, Em). In a span of 20 minutes, they managed to a) make me feel bad for not currently working ("you mean you're not waitressing or anything?"); b) feel obligated to babysit their kids (I can sorta handle that, good karma and all); and c) make me feel like I absolutely should take them up on the opportunity to substitute teach at my no-longer-existing grade school's archrival grade school up the road (the prospect of all that extended time with school-aged kids gives me the heebie jeebies). On the other hand, they hooked me up with the name of two recruiters.

I proceeded to have some kind of work/money-related stress attack last night that prevented me from sleeping for several hours even though I was nice and relaxed when I got into bed, and even moreso shortly thereafter. I am convinced it was brought on by the earlier episode at dinner.

The fine fine weather, however, keeps me in good spirits and I pray that Airborne Express comes back soon like the said they would when they dropped off the box, so I don't have to call them to whisk my computer off to Memphis so Apple can replace the logic board again.

... to say "The Pianist" out loud and not at least mentally snicker. I was doing pretty well on my picks and then The Pianist reared its ugly head (literally, Adrien Brody).

Kevin Parrott has already said most of what I would say about the Oscars so I'll just send you over there.

UPDATE: Choire tells it like it is. I love bitchy boys.

My mom had her first open house today (on a ridiculously overpriced house in Livonia, but whatever, I hate Livonia). She's so excited. It's cute.

I had one of those weird five-minute between-alarms dreams yesterday morning. I was at some sort of camp. There was a big dorm with all these beds lined up in it and a bathroom that just has wood slabs dividing the toilets and showers. It actually kind of reminds me of a hostel I stayed at in San Pedro, CA. It was very brightly lit from the sun outside. It was the girls dorm. I was laying in bed. I was the only one still in bed. A dude came in, walked down the row of beds until he got to mine, and hopped in behind me. He was kinda skinny and had long-ish greasy black hair, like a French guy in a movie. He threw his leg over me. I reached back, gave him a handjob (not even that, really, I just kind of rubbed the head with my pinky finger), and when he came, it came out his foot. And I was glad because now it was just on the floor, and I didn't have to change my sheets. And then I woke up.

I feel like I should be shocked on account of the boy because I just don't do boys. But I'm really not shocked at all. It's just weird.

You'll notice that I've added some links to a couple grassroots charitable organizations over there on the right. Give 'em some love if you can.

Michele is running TROOPTrax whose goal is to provide our soldiers abroad with some goodies, primarily music, to keep them happy and entertained and occupied while they're not working.

Natalie is running Operation Civilian Support whose goal is to provide the necessities for the families of soldiers abroad, particularly for those families who have now lost their sole breadwinner.

irish anal fisting sex

A few months back I had a problem with my iBook. My display would basically show me some vertical stripes. Last time I'd get a jumpy, fuzzy picture first and the more I restarted the more quickly it would happen to the point where I couldn't even get the computer started up before the display went kablooey. This time I went right to the stripes. I couldn't find anything online at Apple Support (again) so I called up and told them I'm having the same problem. We went through the obligatory software troubleshooting and Brian (who was very friendly, I might add) said he was pretty sure it was a hardware problem. It didn't happen again while I was on the phone with him, so he gave me some things to try and said to call back with the case # if it kept happening.

I can't fault Apple's tech support and customer service. But I'm pissed that I'm even having this problem in the first place. Not once, but twice. Why should I need to have two logic boards replaced within a year of buying this brand new computer? Methinks I'm ready to ask Apple for a new iBook.

1. I've been enjoying Fox News' coverage the best so far. I'm limited to what the networks air, and this is way better than what Tom, Dan, and Peter have to offer. I like the way they've got the screen set up: commentator on one side, correspondent video on the other side, a banner underneath, and the ticker on the bottom.

2. I hope Fox's crew on the move with U.S. Troops can show us more than "the tanks are moving across the desert and, oh, there's a helicopter that's kind of following us, and okay, now we're stopping." Although I guess for us to see something interesting one of the tanks would have to blow up in our faces.

4. It tickles me that one guy just mentioned a "battlefield confab." My mom occasionally gets stuck on a word or phrase when she gets excited about an issue, and the last time this happened, that word was "confab." "Bespeaks of an attitude" was another good one.

5. I don't think I've ever heard the emergency sirens here go off except for their ritual monthly testing (first Saturday of the month at 1 p.m.). Maybe once when there was a tornado on the way. I hate seeing the correspondents standing there and having to put their gas masks on when the sirens go off. I'm afraid I'm going to see something unexpected and disastrous happen in real time, like when the second plane hit the south tower.

6. "Shock and Awe" sounds even sillier when people with British accents say it.

7. We're the "Coalition" now. I guessing being "Allies" is out of style. As with all trends, it'll skip this generation of wars and be back for the next one, maybe in time for WWIII (provided this current situation doesn't devolve into that).

8. Phrase of the Day that I'm already sick of: "boots on the ground."

You know how there are some women where you just cannot tell if they're gay? They're in their late 30s. A little chubby. Really love their dog. Wear turtlenecks (with patterns!) and sensible shoes. Have their curly hair cut in a 2-inch halo around their head. All signs point to it. This is the stereotyping that single straight women in their late 30s hate. If it bothers them that much, they should rethink their fashion choices.

I didn't just see a friend of the family whom this description is entirely based on. I didn't.

... that it's useless to protest a war (this one, anyway) after it's started. President Bush is not gonna change his mind now. You're really just making life difficult for people around you if you're gonna stand in the street and protest. Aren't there more constructive ways to make your opinion known?

I downloaded copies of Camino and Mozilla, just for kicks. I must say, they're pretty nifty, but I'm not a big enough geek to fully appreciate them. I'm not very comfortable navigating with them just yet, but so far I'd say Mozilla reminds me of old school Navigator and Camino is a zippy little thing! I'm gonna play with that one some more.

I don't think I'm pinging properly. I have an interview in 20 minutes, and I'm worried about why I'm not pinging Weblogs.com.

I have a phone interview at 2:00. Eek!

UPDATE: It went okay. After some misinformation and phone tag, we talked a little about my last job and a lot about what would I do when union employees act up. He'll get back to me by Tuesday to let me know if I made it to the next round for technical interviews.

Okay, I had about had it with Haloscan and their month-long "server work" so I spent a little time today setting up blogBack.

Now Haloscan appears to be working (even though comments from march 15-19 are now missing but they should be "synced up" tomorrow, but this is what they've been saying for days). I went back and saw some comments that were held up in limbo for a bit. I kinda don't want to lose all the comments I had before. And Haloscan has that nice RSS feed going for it. But all my research shows that blogBack is actually reliable.

I went on and put Haloscan back up and I'm keeping backBlog ready to go if some more shit happens. Sorry for the couple of you that made backBlog comments. I did read them. I thought I had shot off an email to Haloscan telling them I wouldn't be using their services anymore, but as it turns out, I sent it to the wrong email address (which I tried to remember, because I couldn't access anything on their site earlier today). Maybe I'll just write them and let them know I'm disgruntled.

Michelina's latest commercial, sung to the tune of the Macarena. A song and a dance about frozen dinners.

My sister is going to a protest over this today.

Everyone's worried about the war. I suppose I should be, too, but I'd rather be selfish and worry about the stuff that most immediately affects my every day life. Hey, I'm a true American, right?

People say that one of the best ways to enjoy life is to live in the here and now. Enjoy the moment and don't worry so much about what's coming in the future.

Putting this in the context of my present reality seems to have blown that happiness theory right out of the water. What I want to know is, what the hell kind of time frames are "now" and "later"? If you don't have anything to do "now" then what is there to enjoy? If you don't think about "later" then how is "later" going to come to be? People assume that right "now" you're already happy, so you should just... what? Keep on being happy?

What I'm doing "now" is looking for a job. There's nothing particularly enjoyable about that. Even if it were going as spectacularly as a job search can go, it's still stressful. And it makes me not want to do it, which is exacerbating the problem.

Having no income is stressful. Wanting to do fun things so I can enjoy my "now" and having to finance them in crafty ways is stressful. I do not like to go without. I'm used to seeing all my friends mostly getting what they want. I've seen my family talk themselves out of needing and wanting things because they can't get what they want. I'm pretty irresponsible when it comes to stuff like that. The more I make, the more I spend. I'm not making anything, and I'm spending.

Throw in the whole "it could be worse" factor. It could be worse in so many different ways. I know that. How is knowing that supposed to make me feel better? I still want things for myself. I shouldn't strive for them because I already have more than some people? [Using the word "strive" seems to have turned this from musing to college entrance essay.] I say people spend a little too much time stressing over the "now" and not enough time dreaming about and planning for the "later."

It's the thought of "later" that keeps me going. Frankly, "later" consists of "money" in my mind, at the moment. I'm finding myself bending on all my other quality of life requirements just because money is the #1 priority.

When I quit my job last May, I did it for three specific reasons:

1. I wanted a large chunk of time off, which conveniently amounted to about the length of my severance pay period, to travel. I did that, it was a marvelous experience, and that alone has made everything else worthwhile. There is so much of this country that I saw that I'd never seen before, and so many friends I got to visit. I can't even describe how great that was for me.

2. I wanted to switch job functions and I figured I could just as easily do that by switching jobs altogether as I could by trying to make that change happen within the company I was with. Had the whole merger/downsizing thing not happened when it did, I would have tried to, but it would have taken a while and I would have continued to be unhappy until it did. And, honestly, I was a little concerned that if I didn't quit, I might get asked to leave anyway. I don't think that would have happened, but I did find out later that shortly after I left, my boss switched groups and I know that would have made me completely miserable.

3. I did NOT want to live in the Midwest anymore. I want to go to the west coast, and I've amended that to include the Northeast. It's not so much that I particularly hate the Midwest. I just want to do something different, and while I'm changing everything else, why not change locations, too?

I don't know where I'm going with this now. I guess I'm a little disappointed by the less-than-ideal job options that seem to be turning up (which is not to say they're all bad) and I don't like that circumstances are gonna force my hand.

I just read in the most recent issue of the Michigan Today that Sara Moulton and Michael Stern (of Roadfood fame and a frequent guest on NPR's Splendid Table) are both University of Michigan alumni.

US Department of Laughs

(mocking the Department of Homeland Security's ready.gov website) (via Kat)

Fred Durst is Jimmy Kimmel's guest co-host this week (wait, that's not the most retarded part). The first guest of the night last night was The Smothers Brothers, and Tommy Smothers - that's right, America's beloved Tommy Smothers - was congratulating Fred on being the only person at the Grammys to make an anti-war statement.

To balance the stress of the morning.

1. I finally got my car registered in Michigan. It cost less than I thought it would. I didn't have to change my driver's license again. I ordered the license plate I wanted. My mom donated to the cause as repayment for this morning.

2. I probably will have an interview on Thursday morning with a dental supply company. Not my ideal genre, but the job itself would be great experience. It's a contract job, so I'll have some time to get a feel for it, get some needed experience, make some good ching, and not be tied down should something new/different come along but have the opportunity to become a permanent employee if I need/want to. And it's not so far away that I would have to move out of the 'rents house. (AND dude just called back with another potential opportunity, wish he had found me a few months ago).

3. It's nice out, and 24 is not on tonight so I'm free to go out and enjoy it. Don't know what to do, though.

4. I got an email coupon from my favorite pub in Windsor so if it's not impossible to cross the border this weekend, I'm gonna try and get some friends to go over there with me for some Limerick Legs (order by the pound!), pints, and table-slapping Irish folk songs.

... in spite of the small ray of proverbial sunshine I just received, other factors have conspired to make me one REALLY PISSED OFF person right now. News at 5, 6, and 11 (or 10 if you live on central time).

UPDATED: Now that some of my foul mood has evaporated, I don't feel the need to bore anyone else with the details. To summarize, some children left in my care chose today to be Evil, one child's parent repeatedly called inquiring after his health when she could have easily kept him home today, and my dad is just oblivious to the world around him and did some Fucking Annoying Shit.

... that approximately 98% of my site traffic is because of this post?

Does anyone that comes here having searched for that really stick around to read and enjoy? Why do I care? I searched for the same thing before I decided to post it (because I couldn't find anything when I searched for it). I imagine these searchers to be creepy, but I searched for it and I'm not creepy. I sorta wanna delete it now.

... to switching to BackBlog.

I wasn't supposed to be back from Cleveland until tomorrow, but, well, it just worked out for me to come back today. I think the highlight of the weekend was the filet mignon with gorgonzola and white cheddar mash from Cleveland Chophouse. (Conveniently enough, it fell on International Eat an Animal for PETA Day.) We saw Flanagan's Wake on Friday night and the rest of the weekend was spent walking around, enjoying the weather (gorgeous!), eating, and drinking.

My impression of Cleveland is that it's got some good places to eat and drink, most of which you can walk to (if it's not too cold) and a pretty nice and not obscenely large downtown. If you ignore all the Cuyahoga River-related large rusted out structures. But even those are strangely appealing in a "at least there's something to look at on the skyline" sort of way. Lots of bridges on account of the aforementioned river, which was one of the things that supremely frustrated me about navigating Portland (Oregon, not Maine), but I guess if you know where you're going it's not so bad. A bit short on super tourist appeal, though. If I had to live here for a while it wouldn't suck too badly, but I'd still move back to Minneapolis before moving there.

I'm off to Cleveland for St. Patrick's Day. Have a good weekend!

Michigan hockey fans (and I'm sure other fans elsewhere) do this thing where, when the phone in the press box rings, someone yells out "PHOOO-OOOONE" and the crowd replies "Hey [opposing goalie's name], it's your mom. She says YOU SUCK." I've been thinking a lot lately that this could easily apply to any person you encounter.

Tristan Taormino was on Rickie Lake today! (The show was about the double-standard for sluts and man-sluts, not anal fisting.)

This house is so goddamned dry. I've resorted to putting a butter tub full of water in front of the heat duct in my room, not that it does much. I wake up with a nose full of dried-up snot. My throat is parched. I imagine my mucous membranes to look like the hard cracked floor of the desert. I never had this problem in Puerto Rico.

I just ate a whole bowl full of Cinnamon Chex. It's not a new variety. It's Corn Chex, doused with melted butter, and tossed with cinnamon sugar. What I just ate was the equivalent of about four bowls of cereal, a cup of butter, and two cups of sugar (we'll just say the cinnamon doesn't count). I feel ill.

Is it just me, or do Elizabeth Smart and Elisha Cuthbert (Kim on 24) look alike?

As much as I would love for people to donate to the cause, there's no need to leave creepy messages while doing so. To the high roller that hit me today... I don't even know what to say to you, except that was creepy.

But still not good enough.

The U.S. Treasury is planning to introduce color in $20, $50, and $100 bills late this year. $1 and $5 notes are still under consideration, but probably won't be colorized because they're not counterfeited nearly as often. The look of the bills won't change much, but the color is supposed to make it easier to add other security features.

Hello, Australia does it right.
1. It's pretty.
2. It has cooler people on it than dead presidents (except for the queen).
3. It's got plastic threads to make it almost impossible to tear or shred.
4. Each bill is a different length so the blind can tell them apart.

Friendster!

It's like a six degrees of separation sort of thing, except it's got more of a networking emphasis. I think it's nifty. You fill out a typical profile where you indicate your location and as much or as little of your interests as you like. You can specify if you're looking for people to date or just to do stuff with or if you're just making your info available to "help out." There's a messaging and bulletin board system you can use to contact folks and group discuss, and only people in your "personal network" can view your profile, though I can't tell how far out that personal network goes. You invite friends via the online form or send requests to existing members to establish your friends and your personal network grows from there. I've only been a member for a couple hours and I keep checking to see if I have any new friends or people in my personal network. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.

The definition of omelette as used in a sentence, from the Ebonics Dictionary, 2nd Edition:

"I should punch you dead in the eye for what you just said but omelette this one go this time."

Cracks me up. Every. Single. Time.

I was paging through the Metro Times and came across an ad for Neighborhoodies. They basically have hoodies of all varieties and colors which you can customize as you please. The company's based in Brooklyn, so most of the examples on the website are of NYC neighborhoods, but the folks in the Metro Times ad sported Ferndale, Woodward, and Hamtramck hoodies. I'm not sure what I would get from around here (since I already plan on purchasing the red hooded sweatshirt with Detroit in blue (Pistons colors), and Northwest Detroit just doesn't have that ring to it). I think any number of Minneapolis or St. Paul neighborhoods would be pretty sweet. I might almost go for SLP or Cedarhurst.

UPDATED: I didn't look thoroughly before I posted this, but now I see that they do have quite a few options already listed for a variety of cities. My Detroit choices would be "8 Mile" (even though that's all played out now), "Motor City," "From the D," or maybe even "Grand River." My Twin Cities choices would be "Calhoun" or "Uptown."

I'm not all that well-versed in hockey penalties. Or at least I can rarely recognize them in the course of play to call them from the comfort of my living room (or the bar, as the case may be). But the fact still remains that hockey has the best penalty ever: Diving. Diving is called when a player attempts to draw a penalty by his actions, usually signified by a big conspicuous flop to the ice. This means that when when the ref blows his whistle, you're being sent to the box for being a big pussy.

From an email forwarded by my mom:

If you think life is bad,
how would you like to be an egg?
You only get laid once.
You only get eaten once.
It takes four minutes to get hard.
Only two minutes to get soft.
You share your box with 6 other guys.
But worst of all, the only chick that ever sat on your face was your mother.

After six weeks of Slim-Fasting, I'd finally gotten out of the habit of thinking about food and craving stuff all the time. One week of vacation totally ruined that and now every little food whiff makes me want to inhale it. I broke down and went to Bread Basket Deli earlier. But I only ate half the sandwich and pickle. I'm saving the rest for tomorrow's dinner.