are you people sick of me yet today?

[In my defense, the first post was really yesterday. It could have posted at 11:59 pm had I walked up the stairs faster.]

I knew this was going to be a comedy goldmine full of blogging potential. It's almost as good as riding the prison bus without earbuds in. Let's have a tutorial this afternoon on how to not win at internet dating! I'm sure none of all y'all need it because you have enough social skills not to NEED internet dating or you're all happily coupled up with the love muffin of your fondest dreams. Or both. But just in case some random person wanders through here, let's be instructive.

Tip #1 for not winning: send a woman you have never spoken to before an email in which you say, "I'm interested, but I need more pictures." Dude. No, you do not. I can guarantee you I am too hot for your 57 year old, balding ass, even with my rapidly atrophying vagina, and I do not intend to prove it to you photographically before you deign to speak to me. Besides, you don't know the difference between "seen" and "scene". Get someone who's not illiterate to proofread your profile, and while they are doing that, you can contemplate whether the reason you've never been married and/or found "that one special person" is that you are a clueless, and apparently entitled, dick.

Tip #2: send a woman you have never spoken to before an email in which you nicely ask how she is doing and then say that you are doing fine, except for the crushing loneliness. Leading off with a portrayal of yourself as incredibly needy and pathetic will not make chicks take pity on you or even give you points for honesty. Instead, it will make them fear that you will cling like Saran Wrap on Tupperware and that you have the potential to go full stalker mode if rejected.

Tip #3: send a woman you have never exchanged a word with a short email in which you suggest that since you live close together, you meet for coffee or a drink. When woman does not immediately reply with enthusiasm to go out with a complete stranger, wait a couple hours and email again, this time saying that you're now at your computer, not on your Blackberry, so you can write more. Tell woman that your compatibility score is in the upper 80s and it doesn't get much better than that. So you should go out for coffee or a drink. Hint: this is roughly equivalent to approaching a random attractive woman on the T and suggesting she go on a date with you because you are getting off at the same stop. And when she is not enthusiastic about the prospect, trying to convince her that since you've read that book she's carrying too, you really really need to go out.

Okay, and when all of the above are blissfully married by next year while I am still planning my LL Bean Sex Repelling wardrobe, you can tell me the reason that I am still single is that I'm a big bitch and that my advice is worthless. I will not argue with you.

xoxo

how did we live without youtube?

With all the tragedy and sadness in the world, just be glad that there exist other human beings who have the time and the wherewithal to create things like this. I have no other words.




xoxo

from the internet to you

1.) Now THIS is probably end-of-days. The best part is how she's smiling, with dimples, in her mugshot. Sociopathology, the gift that keeps on giving. Or something like that.

(But we all knew those people in Cow Hampshire are skeery anyway, right? Except M1. She's not skeery.)

2.) To touch on something that was in my movie review no one read, sorta:

3.) Just notice the release date on this and just keep in mind someone's birthday is in November. All I'm sayin'.

xoxo

snow day youtube and fitness roundup

Seeing as I can't do much right at the moment other than sit in my bed with the laptop and my coffee, praying the power doesn't go out and/or Verizon FIOS stops working (having already lost satellite tv, yo), I'm just sorta following links and looking at videos and pretending like I'm learning shit that will help me at the gym and whatnot. I mean, I could be doing laundry, but what if the power goes out when I've got a load in the middle of washing? That would suck.

Anyway, I give you this first:

Skip ahead to about 4:40 and watch the feet in the freakin' shrubbery. I have no words It's surreal. But this is what happens when anyone with a cheap video camera can decide they are a.) an expert on whatever and b.) a filmmaker. Dollars to donuts, this guy has watched too much Namaste Yoga on FitTV (that's the one where, ooo, their mats are on the beach! and then, ooo, now their mats are in an atmospheric warehouse! and now, ooo! their mats are in an English garden, etc) and thought demoing pushups shirtless on his freakin' lanai would bring the viewers. Which, doh, *I* watched it, didn't I? Adulation, mockery, it's all the same in 2011.

Next, in more actual educational mode, I give you this chart from the website of Mr Bret Contreras, aka The Glute Guy. Mr Contreras is a well-known trainer and fitness writer who has an actual math and science background, and who has done EMG experiments on which muscles are really most activated during various exercises. In other words, he actually *is* an expert and not just some meathead.


Despite my embarrassment about being a weak puny 48 year old woman who can only use puny little weights, I am heartened that I am at least in the intermediate category for everything that I actually do, and advanced on a couple of things. This is what led to me searching for pushup instructional video, btw. I can do 8 or 10 pushups, not of the girly variety, but I'm suspicious they might not count, because I may not go all the way down enough. I can't do them to the point where my boobs touch the floor. I also have no idea if I can do a single pullup, because I haven't tried, and I'm not trying at the Y and embarrassing myself. D has one of those pullup things that hang off the door frame somehow that he used to use in high school, but it is not attached to the door any longer and when I asked him if he remembered how it goes, he said no. So my ability to practice at home till I'm at the point of not humiliating myself in front of 17 year old Dominican boys is on hold.

Okay, now I must go and resume my "studies." But you can be sure that if I find something else hilarious or self-aggrandizing, I'll be blogging more. I'm stuck at home, you people suffer. That's how it goes.

xoxo

in case you were up all night worrying n' stuff

According to the kind people at Slate who put up a widget for those of us in Gawker Nation to check whether our email addresses were on the list the hackers released as being hacked, mine was not. So, between that and all my frantic password changing and credit card info deleting I did last night, I guess evil people on the interwebs aren't buying shit with my semi-hard earned money even as we speak.

In other news, we had our holiday departmental lunch today, which was somewhat of a comedown in the festivity league, considering a bunch of people didn't make it. So it was a very small and intimate gathering of my boss, our other surviving full time doc, Townie Girl, Girl With No Catchy Nickname, and me. I ate a boatload of Chinese food and two cookies and now, two hours after the fact, I am still so stuffed, I'm thinking I can't go to the gym after work or I will puke. The very expensive (sigh) cookies I made were a big hit***, proving that the recipe was indeed idiot-proof. And with a little more online shopping today, I am officially done with the Xmas gift-procuring, other than picking up a few scratch tickets and Evil Kitty's Cosmic Catnip. (We figure if she's gonna stroke out any day now, she should go out in a drug-induced haze, is all I'm saying.)

Oh! And I curled my hair again today and it did not come out as good as yesterday. I think it works better when your hair is a little dirty. Nevertheless, I have my hair in an updo (festive!) and I am wearing my ridiculous tunic/shirt/dress that looks like a wedding cake (festive!) so the lack of festivity in that luncheon cannot be attributed to me. Again, all I'm saying.

I hope you all are having yourselves a festive Monday full of good hair, cookies, and a lack of internet crime. If not, Tuesday's another day.

xoxo

***I have enough leftover graham crackers, chocolate and butterscotch chips, nuts, and coconut to make another pan of cookies, so you want some, you just speak up. Or else I'll just be throwing the stale baking supplies away three years from now in a cabinet-cleaning binge. You know how it goes.

my stupidity n paranoia intersect

I'm sure you all had better things to do this evening than pay attention to internet news, but there's been a huge Gawker hack. As in, the hackers have all the Gawker IDs, email addresses, and (encrypted) passwords of 1.5 million users. Of which I am one, which you may have figured out by all the reposts of shit from jezebel y'all get from me.

Of course, I provided jezebel with my real, main email, like an idiot. Of course I used the password that I use for 80% of all my internet business (the perimenopause is fucking with my memory, I can only handle very few passwords, yo). I am fucking stupid and overly trusting that my firewall and virus checker and that little lock symbol that appears in my browser when I'm buying something will save me from having all my money stolen from me.

I am all extremely paranoid and freaking out now. I already had an ativan today, so taking another one probably isn't a good idea, but. I immediately changed my jezebel password. I immediately changed my email password to something completely different. I then spent several hours changing my password on all the online shopping sites I use that I could remember using the original password on, as well as on my Sprint account. I deleted my stored credit card info from the shopping sites. I don't bank or pay my bills online, so that I don't have to worry about. I don't think.

Do you think there's some hacker somewhere buying expensive yoga pants from Athleta with my debit card even as we speak?!??? Like I don't have enough to worry about. Bastards.

xoxo

sexxay

As most of you all are probably aware, I have hung out in some weird quarters of the internet over the past fifteen years or so. (I have a lot of interests and hobbies, and they shift from time to time. Don't judge.) I have learned a lot about human nature and group behavior from this, so I am sure the many many hours I have spent reading, typing, arguing with morons, gnashing my teeth over the general illiteracy and total failure to grasp logic of the English-speaking public, and rolling my eyes at how other people decorate their dining rooms has not been a total wash.

Of late, however, being very interested in what I am doing with Liz and my growing veinity, I have been perusing the forums on bodybuilder.com. Not that I have any intention of becoming an actual body builder. It's just what comes up when you search for weightlifting forums, and it's a huge, huge site. Huge enough that there are special sections for teenagers, people over 35, and women, along with the general interest folders. There are a lot of people on there that really know their shit, as well as people who don't. (My very favorite term/insult from there is "broscience"--which I don't think needs a translation, does it?) And there is a sad concentration of extremely obnoxious 17-24 year old boys, plus a few older douchebags who should have outgrown their testosterone poisoning by now. This, I guess, is what led to the women's section being created, though you can't actually keep the douchebros out of it. And so occurred a trainwreck of a thread a few days ago.

A young woman posts that she is a noob at the gym--often the only woman in the free weights section--and the guys stare at her, which makes her feel very insecure, as she is sure they are thinking she's doing everything wrong and that she looks like a moron. Now, unfortunately, this how-can-I-get-past-this query is accompanied by a profile pic in which the young lady is bleached platinum blond, is wearing a lot of (going out) makeup, and is showing cleavage. At first there are some gentle "well, of course they stare at you, you're hot" comments. These are quickly followed by "god, you're conceited if you think everyone's looking at you--you aren't THAT hot" and "you shouldn't dress like a slut at the gym and then no one will look at you." (Ed note: the picture posted was not a working out shot; no evidence that this woman dresses like a "slut" to lift weights.) These comments come from both men and women, by the way. Most people completely ignore the fact that the woman specifically states she thinks she's being stared at because she's a dork, not because she's hot, and those that don't, tell her to stop being a baby. This devolves even further into remarks that all women who bleach their hair like her are skanks and that guys only want girls that look like her for one-night stands, not as girlfriends or wives. The pile-on (from people of both sexes!) just because this woman posted a sexy picture is ridic. Finally a few more level-headed people listen to what she's actually said, some people give helpful advice, some of the worst douchebags are put in their place, and the thread calms down.

Okay. So also on bodybuilder.com, besides the forums and besides the online store at which my kid buys omega 3s, there are articles. Lots and lots of articles. This morning over coffee I decide to see what they have on the "Women's Superfeature", article-wise. The very first sentence on the index page is "Women, are you interested in losing that stubborn body fat for a strong sexy body or are you just looking for extra motivation to keep up with your training?" This is illustrated with a more-buff Paris Hilton look-alike (bleached blond hair, false eyelashes, blue eye shadow, shimmery pink lip gloss, cleavage). The word "sexy" is used at least six more times and there are at least two more pictures of boobs. This is just on the index page, mind. The index page of the sponsor of the forums where a poor girl was excoriated for having a picture of herself with eye shadow, platinum hair, and a rack. The irony, it burns!

But, seriously, that index page did piss me off a bit. It reminds me of when I was searching for "women's health" books on amazon while I was at war with my uterus last year, and most of the results were diet books, diet books promising me a "hot and healthy body," 'Cause god knows, being hot is more important than being healthy. If you're a chick. While I certainly think, against all evidence, that my new veins are sexxay, and while I keep jokingly telling, or agreeing with, my friends that now that I've been going to the gym regularly, I am hot, that that is supposed to be the sole selling point of exercise to someone because she happens to be female sucks, frankly. Especially from bodybuilding.com, if they are, as they seem to be, one of the premier weightlifting sites on the web. How about going to the gym because it's fun, and because being strong is useful, and because it makes you feel like you can kick ass, and so you don't break a hip when you're 70, and and and? Women have other motivators other than being hot. Even when we freakin' are.

And now, to objectify a dude. I was telling Liz about the insane pistol squat guy's video, and she suggested I look on youtube for "bartendaz" if I enjoy such insanity. She particularly suggested I look for the one where the gentleman is not wearing his shirt. Ahem. I think I found it!



xoxo

meme

Here is how you play. Simply do a google image search on your name (first or last) and see what the first five results you get are.

Let's examine the "Andrea"s of the world, shall we?

This is a young woman who got attacked by a shark, showing off her scars. That's pretty badass. I don't mind sharing my name with her.


This is some bimbo.


This is some other bimbo. I hope she is no relation to (or god help us, Mrs) Mikey Lowell.


This is a third bimbo.


This is a "who wore it better?" from People magazine. The blond one on the left is the Andrea, and apparently she is an actress on Desperate Housewives. I don't watch that show.

Now, there *are* actually some famous people named Andrea. There's Andrea Mitchell, for one, or Andrea Bocelli (who totally counts even though he's a dude) and who was actually #7 on my google image results. But what is our object lesson we can take away? The interwebs exist for the purpose of disseminating pictures of women in their underwear (or without their underwear if you don't have safe search enabled), that's what!

And that is all I have to say about that.

xoxo

what is wrong with people? part # whatevah

1.) I was just watching Morning Joe over my coffee and I had to change to VH1C and Billy Joel with an afro, because I got so disgusted that apparently there is controversy about the president of this country remarking that, yes, there is freedom of religion in the USA, guaranteed by the constitution. And that includes Muslims, you fucking right wing racist gits. Um, that last part's mine, not Mr Obama's. He would never call anyone a fucking right wing racist git. As far as we know. But, seriously. I love the "patriots" that want to shit on the constitution and wipe their arses with it. Love. Smooch.

2.) And on a less political note, there's this. I was kinda ranting about it yesterday, so I knew I had to blog it. You people know you adore when I get wound up. This is "what is wrong with men?" #46,392, actually. And it follows from the above, believe it or not, because one of the things that led to discussing the chick in question was a political discussion in which I maintained that you really can't expect much, 'cause the American public is stoopid and poorly educated. That led me to start going off about this woman who is a frequent poster on one of the weightloss forums I read. She's got a lot of internet friends because she's one of those "hugggzzzz, you go, girlfriend, love you, sistah" types and they are very popular on support boards. (That's neither here nor there, I suppose, but my point is that she doesn't apparently irritate anyone but me, go figure.) This woman has atrocious grammar. And it's not for effect, LIKE IT SOMETIMES IS IN THIS BLOG, BITCHES. She just cannot write or (apparently) speak without sounding like someone who dropped out of school round about sixth grade. Oh, so what, Andrea? Well. She likes to mention frequently that she is a librarian in the school system. Which, don't you have to have a Master's degree for that? Any institute of higher learning that would give a Master's degree in library science to someone who is unable to write a grammatically correct sentence in her native language, ever, needs to have its certification revoked, is what I'm saying. (<--like that sentence? I coulda written it correctly, but it was a choice, motherfuckers)

Okay, so that was my original rant. If people like this chicky are the ones teaching our impressionable children, of course Americans grow up to be stupid and ill-educated and are susceptible to that "birther" nonsense and so on. But I could not stop just there. There's more. This woman is in a long distance relationship with her husband, who lives and works in a different city than she does. She mentioned on the boards this weekend that they were fighting because of the stress of that, and one of her sistahs asked for the backstory of how this whole situation came to be. And thus it was revealed that Illiterate Librarian is on husband #3. After her divorce from husband #1, she met the current gentleman (on the internet, cough) and he moved to be with her. They lived in sin for a couple years and then she dumped him, because she felt as if she was missing out on playing the field. He moved away. She met and married husband #2. After *that* divorce, she reconnected with the current sucker--I mean, gentleman--and he proposed. But he couldn't immediately move to be with her, and is waiting until a comparable position in his company becomes open in her area and he can transfer there.

Oh, and when she mentioned they were fighting just now, one of her internet sistahs remarked that she herself was fortunate in that she and her husband never argued. Illiterate Librarian said that, oh, they fought a lot, mainly because *she* is a stubborn bitch. She didn't actually use the word "bitch", she just implied it. But oh, giggle giggle, isn't it cute that she's so difficult? You all know how much I love people who brag about how ill-behaved they are in their relationships, and are proud of their crappy behavior.

And, not to be a complete bitch myself, but it's important to my point--this woman posts lots of pictures of herself as she travels her weightloss/fitness journey. She was not a pretty morbidly obese woman, she is not a pretty slightly-overweight woman, and I predict she is not going to be a pretty thin woman. There is no stunning beauty there to blind one to any of her other characteristics.

So, let's review! This woman is not bright. She is not physically attractive. She is apparently a real bitch in her romantic relationships and she is, giggle giggle, immaturely proud of that. And yet, she's gotten three guys to marry her and pledge their undying love (unsuccessfully, but yeah), including the present one who came crawling back after she kicked him to the curb. What is wrong with men? And by that, you know I mean, in yet another existential crisis, what the fuck is wrong with *me* and what have I been doing wrong for the past 30 years? If I strive to be stupider, meaner, more immature, phonier, and frumpier, then will men be beating down my door, pledging their eternal devotion and wanting to install crown molding for me? Really?

Some day I will figure out the universe.

xoxo

oh, kids

Sometimes life is tough.

But why dwell on it? Instead, amuse yourselves with all the interwebs have to offer. There's this. And then there's this. Not to mention this, which never gets old, lemme tell you. It's an Adventures classic!

In other cheerful news, which I am very sure you have been waiting for with bated (baited?) breath, as of today I am officially one pound below my goal weight, so maybe I will stop bothering you with details of my food plan and exercise ambitions. You're feeling more cheerful already, aren'tcha? I can tell. Despite that (uh, the scale success, that is) no one saw me nekkid on my day off, which is not how the universe is supposed to work out. Oops, sorry, that's dwelling. Go look at Ewan McGregor, who is a sop to sexually frustrated women everywhere. As far as I am concerned. Ahem.

xoxo

my fabulous business idea

When I was walking into work yesterday, my boss was at his computer. "Andrea! C'mere!" He was trying to find contact info for a another doctor whose last name he had absolutely no idea to spell, and he thought maybe I knew. Well, no, I did not, *but* I showed him how to look it up on the Board of Registration website even if you don't know the spelling. He was wicked impressed.

So I told him my brilliant idea from the other day. Mr Indemnity had been having trouble looking up something on his iPhone--it wasn't behaving--and said something facetious about whether celebs had flunkies to do that kind of thing for them. And I said "That's it! That's what I should be doing for a living. I should be some rich person's personal Google-er." I think both my boss and Mr Indemnity thought it was an amusing idea, but seriously. I am so good at it. Someone should be paying me. (Okay, okay, I realize that what I really should have been was a research librarian, but Google-er to the stars would be much more glamorous. C'mon now.)

Then later, when I was leaving, my boss was again at his computer having trouble. He asked me if I used Skype. No, sorry, can't help you with that. He asked me what good I was. I told him that a.) I'd solved his problem once already that day and that was his quota and b.)sorry, but I didn't know anyone in any foreign countries I needed to talk to. "No," he said, "you can use Skype locally. Then you can see the person you are talking to." I told him I didn't see any benefit in that, and it would seriously cut down on the number of phone conversations I could have in my underwear. So, like, even if I didn't solve his Skype problem, I did make him laugh. I am worth every penny they pay me, yo.

But I still think I could make a fortune being the Google-er in someone's posse. (There is a precedent. I hear that some celebs who tweet, don't actually tweet themselves, they have their assistants do it. I could do that too!)

xoxo

presented for your amusement

I just discovered the existence of unhappyhipsters.com. Making fun of design mags/blogs and hipsters? Irresistible.

Enjoy!

And this as well...

And this!

Last one, I promise

I could keep going all day. I was getting Dwell for awhile as one of those deals where they send you free magazines hoping you'll subscribe or that their advertisers will think someone actually reads their rag, and it was all like this. If they had known how far out of their target market I am, they'd have shit.

xoxo

checking in

1.) Not having the best of all possible weeks, health-wise and stress-wise, which is my excuse for not taking and posting those pics I am sure you are all waiting breathlessly--breathlessly, I tell you!--for. I'll get around to it.

2.) Of course, you have to know that now that I'm back to the house renos, I'm also back to looking at Rate My Space and the HGTV message boards, which is an exercise in masochism. And also, self-control. Here's a real question, paraphrased: "Do you allow sweaty workout clothes in your hamper? The stench from my husband's almost knocks me out." Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to answer, "Why, no, no, I do not! I expect my dirty laundry to smell of nothing but roses at all times!" But no one likes a wiseass.

3.) Omar from The Wire is in two new movies coming out this fall. If I ever went to the movies, I would probably go see them, 'cause that man is an actor, I'll tell you what. Always nice to see someone from that cast doing well. (Has anyone given Bodie a job yet? If not, someone get on it. Love me some Bodie. I'll start crying if I think too hard about his "death.")

4.) Related. As a writer (ha!), there is nothing as awesome to me as someone somewhere being so taken by one of your fictional characters that their "death" actually affects them.

5.) I would tell you about the vivid dream I had two nights ago, but honestly, I don't want to turn out to be One of Those People. Well, okay. It involved my uncle and aunt calling after midnight to see if my dad spoke French, which they were convinced he did, while meanwhile I was desperate to get them off the phone because my new roof was leaking. Because it was made of those plastic loops they used to make lawn chairs out of, and the rain could come right in.

xoxo

presented for your viewing pleasure

Forgive me if you've seen this already, 'cause I think it's spreading all over the interwebs. But if you haven't, enjoy! (My favorite part's at about 3:40.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4T1RMuoQnKo

I'm trying to think what the MA equivalent is, and I'm guessing it's Newton. But I'll entertain other suggestions.

xoxo

the "meh" list

Have you seen this meme going around? The idea is to list four, exactly four, and only four, things that you personally think are way overrated. Four things that everyone else seems to think are fabulous that make you personally go "meh" or "huh?" or "please".

After some amount of deliberation, mine are:

1.) Macs

2.) Harry Potter (speaking only to the books; I've never seen any of the movies)

3.) The Office (American version)

4.) Michelle Obama's looks/fashion sense

In comments, I would love everyone to add their own four. That's an order. Okay, it's a humble request from a woman who has brought you probably hours of free entertainment, such as it were. Also? In comments, do not try to argue me out of mine. (That means you, Mr Indemnity.) These are meant to be totally idiosyncratic and not up for debate.

Gracias.

xoxo

friday wrap-up and linkorama

1.) Is it wrong that I just want to wear yoga pants every single day now? It's a step up from actual sweatpants or scrubs. C'mon now.

2.) Okay, is it wrong that we're all out of milk and I'm too lazy to go to the store and get some? Okay, is it wrong that I was earlier at the 7-eleven and didn't buy the milk, because I had too much damn stuff to carry already, like the can of coffee from CVS, that only *I* will partake of? I'm giving back my Gandhi card.

3.) If you saw the following linked elsewhere on the interwebs today, my apologies. However, if you haven't, you will thank me later. http://www.boingboing.net/2009/03/27/artist-paints-hersel.html

4.) I want rain boots! Do you like these? And, more importantly, do they go with yoga pants?



5.) I'm sick of articles about Facebook and the pitfalls of Facebook. Shut.Up. And even *I* am not self-absorbed enough for Twitter, so how scary must the people who actually do it be?

xoxo

comments, we get comments

I was talking with someone recently--Mr Indemnity, was it you?--about how the most consistently jaw-droppingly weird comments/replies you could ever think to read are on, of all places, boston.com. It doesn't seem to matter what I read over there, any dip into the commentary is just head-spinning. And I have no idea why. Are these all the same people who used to write crank nutty letters to the editor back in the day when people didn't read the newspaper all online?

Today, for example, I accidentally came across the following (in reply to a question about "Facebook cheating"):

Make no mistake, this is the day and age of the restless married woman. I know 14 men (including myself) between the ages of 38-45 (all with multiple children under the age of 10) and all going through the same mess. We're all married to selfish women who looked in the mirror one morning, saw a few wrinkles and scared themselves into believing there was something better out there - and it seems to be contageous. Forget about respect for themselves or their families, they feel it's better to lie and betray rather than deal with their feelings in a responsible PAXIL FREE way. They have no regard for the real victims - THEIR KIDS. My recommendation - launch her, focus on you and your kids and most of all - move because she's beneath you.

Really, dude? Really??!???

You know *13* other guys who are being cheated on? And have told you about it? Do you belong to some kind of club or support group or something? Or do you just live in the World of Massive Over-share? Maybe I'd believe it more if these mythical lying hussies didn't *all* have multiple children under the age of ten, 'cause that tends to suck the life out of most people's sex drives, n'est pas?, as well as taking up enormous amounts of time that might otherwise be spent on whoring around. And then there's the hilarious all-capped apparent rant against antidepressants. Tom Cruise, is that you? Besides which, Paxil--excuse me, PAXIL--will pretty much suck the life out of most people's sex drives, too, so I don't really imagine all fourteen cheating sluts are on it anyway.

Hoo boy.

But, as god is my witness, this is a wholly typical and representative comment in that venue. Maybe the powers-that-be ought to dose the Quabbin with some prophylactic PAXIL and calm down most of the state.

xoxo

and then my reading upsets me

Apparently, according to the interwebs, things have been going on which I would be better off not knowing.

For instance, TMZ, in a feature on celebrity butterfaces, insulted my fantasy boyfriend. Gasp! Look at this face:

Not only is there nothing wrong with that face, 99.9% of the male staff at TMZ--indeed 99.9% of the male population of the world--would be fucking lucky to look that handsome at age 46. (Especially after all the years of, y'know, heroin relapses.) I am aghast.

Secondly? Dr Laura--how the hell is she still alive? and who the hell is still giving her a forum to spew her hateful nonsense?--says women have sex for three, and only three reasons: love, a desperate desire to be loved or wanted, and money. Good to know! That pesky sex drive of mine must mean I'm a dude, then. But, my god, I have breasts. Wha?

Oh, I'm so confused. So confused.

Aghast and confused.

xoxo

true or false!

Dancing Days...best Led Zep song evah? I vote yes! Someone linked to a youtube video of it in a thread I was reading this morning and so naturally I had to go youtube other Led Zep songs I like (like, fer instance, Misty Mountain Hop) as well as the STP cover of Dancing Days, which I also like. I know, I'm not supposed to admit liking STP, but I do, and I wish it were the 90s again so I could listen to "alternative" on the radio and wear stompy shoes and red lipstick. Anyway! I am in a ridiculously cheerful mood and I want to play loud music while I get dressed and dance around. Be glad you do not have to witness this.

I am getting a spendy spa pedicure today, which, I am usually embarrassed to get professional pedicures because my feet are generally a mess from all the walking (and hiking) I do but I read someone on the interwebs expressing the same opinion and a million people who play sports and do martial arts and hike etc etc and also have ugly gross feet from such told her no no no no, do *not* be embarrassed, the more abused your feet are, the more you deserve a pedi. So, encouraged, I booked one. Also because I got my bank statement this week and somehow for reasons that are unclear, even though I paid real estate taxes (ugh!) and the ridiculously high water bill (bastards keep raising the rates, mon) last month/beginning of this month, I ended up with more money in the checking account than I started with. Score! So I must Be Nice to Andrea today.

Excuse me, I must go dance and dress now.

xoxo

oh, so true