2 very good things

1. Shopgirl. Bill and I saw it tonight. Utterly charming.
2. Julie, Bill and I found digs today. We move in sometime after Christmas/around Julie's birthday (Jan 1). There is a gym and tennis courts and other cool stuff. Also it is right by the mexican price chopper, so that means horchata any time of day or night! We have no guest bedroom, having no money, but the closet space is exceptional! Come visit!

At work alone

So, here I am, at work by myself with nothing to do. I've read a book (The Human Stain by Phillip Roth--I do not understand why he is so loved), bounced a ball all around the office, checked my email every 4 or 5 minutes, and colored post-its with high-lighters then immediately recycled them. I also drew you pictures of my time-wasting, as I respond well to positive reinforcement. I should do some stuff, like preparing my work crap for my monsterboss's new victim who starts on Monday, which is, fantastically, my last day.
So, here I read.

My observant readers might note that my hair is a different color than Monday's images. That is not true. My hair remains the same color; what you are noticing is the different color in my drawings. There are a number of reasons for that: I 'customize' my hair color but never save the color, I am not sure what my hair color is anyway, and sometimes I think it is important to embrace my impending brownheadedness, while other times I think it would be fun to be a real blonde. Now, let's chase a ball.

Oh, the troubles

Yesterday, I drove around most all of the Kansas City suburbs taking pictures of houses for sale for my friend Jessica, who is the photographer for a real estate magazine. Due to scheduling conflicts, she asked me to help out. Now, this was fairly exciting as I got to use Jess's fancy schmancy digital camera, yet also a bit stressful because I believe that Jessica may very well love her camera more than me. So I had to be very careful. My caution led to disaster striking. For the first time in my entire life, I locked my keys in the car. I have illustrated this for you.

Mind you, I was in the middle of nowhere (Lee's Summit, MO to be exact) and had literally no one to call. Mom was in Topeka, boyfriend in Nashville, Jessica at work... other friends out of town... Besides that, my phone was in the car and one doesn't memorize phone numbers anymore.
So, I see some people in their yard and ask them for help. A guy with a mullet and a USA leather bomber jacket gets a wire hanger and goes for it. I have illustrated this as well.

Unfortunately, he didn't succeed and I had to pay some other guy with a mullet $45 to do it. And if anyone tells me that the police unlock cars for free, I don't want to hear it.

Kirstie Alley Can Eat a Dick

I know that I am committing a blogging faux pas by updating right after I just questioned you, but please read down and help me on my computer queries. I really had to update about the atrocity I just witnessed.
Seriously, I just watched the first episode of Fat Actress and I don't think I have ever seen something so stupid and offensive. The episode begins with Kirstie lying on the bathroom floor, weeping after weighing herself. This goes on for literally several minutes. Then, of course, she gets up and gets herself a double burger and fries at a fast food joint. In her robe. Of course! Because it's funny, right, a fat lady eating a hamburger in her pjs. But obviously not funny enough, because she loses her french fries and thinks they weren't served to her, so she yells out the window that it's america and they need to learn to speak English. Hysterical, right? But that's not all the race fun the show has in store, because later, she and her assistants decide she needs to black men as they prefer the larger ladies. So what do they do! Go to a soul food restaurant of course! May as well kill two birds with one stone! Get her fed and get her fucked! But even more knee-slapping is when her assistant refers to the restaurant as a 'black market.' I remember those... American History 1660-1865 right?
And then there is the really awesome scene where Kirstie Alley goes on an interview all dolled up, and everyone just stares and stares at her. The office virtually shuts down so everyone can get a glimpse of her ass. Which is understandable, as you know, the size 16 Kirstie Alley is 2 whole sizes larger than the national average, so it's really unlikely anyone in the building had in fact seen someone so large.
But the episode reaches its zenith when Kirstie tries to make herself puke with a peacock feather but ends up deciding to finish her cookie. How can she hate herself so much she would be willing to degrade herself in such a way? Although I suppose one could ask the same question of the Look Who's Talking franchise...
Honestly, where were the calls to boycott this piece of crap?

Oh, brother...

So, the time has come to make a new computer purchase. My current laptop, bought refurbished over 5 years ago, is in serious need of retirement.
But I don't know what I need. I am seduced by the flash of Apple, but am not sure the price jump is necessary, as my current needs consist of internet and word processing. I definitely want a laptop with wireless capabilities.
However, sooner or later I will make the leap to digital photography. When I do so, I will want an SLR camera compatible with my Canon EOS Elan IIe. So we are talking at least a 1K camera. So, should I purchase the significantly more expensive computer bargaining on the fact that I will eventually make the digital commitment? Or should I wait it out? I will not likely get a digital camera body for at least a year.
And, if I am planning on the most mundane of personal uses, why would I buy an Apple?
I feel extraordinarily conflicted about this. I think I would rather buy a car than a computer.
So will someone please solve all my problems and tell me what I need? And how much I should spend on it and where I can find a deal?

Sweet Potatoes!

It is sweet potato season and for this I am excited.
The Rachel's are playing in Kansas City tonight and I am going and for this too, I am excited. I love the rachel's. At least, I hope I am going because I refuse to pay ticketmaster's extortionate price. An extra $7.40 on a $10 ticket? There is no way in hell. I love the rachel's $17.40 but a girl has to has principles.
Speaking of, I am playing phone tag with a lady from Unity Church where I applied for a copywriting job. I assume she wants to interview me.
I debated long and hard about applying for a position with a religious institution to which I do not belong. I researched the church, I discovered that they ordain both women and gays as ministers, one of my main criteria. Indeed, www.godhatesfags.com considers Unity Church to be exceptionally fag-loving. The job also pays quite well and has excellent benefits. So I decided to apply. That said, Unity Church does seem a little weird on the website. But, a Unity church here always has good readings. So does anyone have any insight on this? Work for a church? Even a liberal church?

So today

I finally got around to watching Garden State. It was, as previously predicted some months ago, awful, however not as awful as I thought. It was somewhat redeemed by Natalie Portman's character, who was far more genuine than the ladies typically featured in such movies. However, Zach Braff should stick to Scrubs, which is more or less amusing more or less of the time.
I have finished watching the 2nd season of the L-Word, and I reiterate my assertion that it totally rocks. Rent it today.

I wish I could update again but I have to watch the L-Word until I've seen all of season 2. Probably you'll hear from me again at the beginning of next week.

Fuck Desperate Housewives, The L-Word is the new Sex and the City

Yeah, you hear that, Teri Hatcher? You, and your twiggy big-headed bitches, suck. Despite being 4 women in their 30s, you don't even come close to the supreme excellence of sex and the city or the l-word. Your fashion sense is unremarkable, the dialogue is beyond trite, and the endless plot twists tedious.
As devastated as I was when Sex and the City went off the air, The L-Word is nurturing my recovery. Sure, the majority of the characters are lesbians, and I am not, but their hairstyles are downright inspirational. Not to mention the fascinating characters and plottings.
While being a housewife is cool and I'll fight for your right to whatever, it's a hell of a lot more interesting to watch a show where the characters actually have careers. Admirable ones. Museum director, journalist, tennis player, hair stylist, and yes, a housewife.
Seriously, if I see another magazine with Teri Hatcher's gigantic head on her skeletal frame again, I will puke. The only character on Desperate Housewives that is remotely interesting is Lynette, who, surprise, has a job. Yet even the L-Word manages to make their jobless character, Tina, among the most interesting.
That said, the L-Word has some flaws, like the sexually confused writer Jenny who is painfully self-conscious without being self-aware, but I suspect I only find her excrutiating because I'm pretty sure we roomed together once in college.
In conclusion, if someone references Desperate Housewives as the new Sex and the City, I will skin them alive and turn them into a pair of round-toe, knee-high boots and a pair of sling backs. What these fools neglect to note when make their comparisons is that Sex and the City was a feminist show, and Desperate Housewives is certainly not a replacement for that. Carrie and the girls had real issues, real weight gain, and real relationships. Desperate Housewives has horrible mothers (except Lynette, who is actually cool) and ridiculously low-cut jeans on women with no ass. The L-Word, while featuring women a damn sight more attractive than most of the lesbians I have encountered, at least demonstrates ambition and characters a girl can look up to. Which is all I'm asking.

Nightmares

Last night I had a dream in which someone told me I was 24 and I broke down crying. Even sadder is the fact that I am 24.
Even sadder than that is that a spider saw fit to get a little fresh and bit me on the second baseline.

I am good in every way

So, Friday I attended my first 'first fridays' something the crossroads district of art galleries in Kansas City puts on, on, you guessed it, the first Friday of the month. So, my KC Crew and I headed down to look at some contemporary art, most of which, you guessed it, sucked. However, I probably liked about 15% of the work I saw, which isn't a bad percentage. It was exciting to see the Kansas City downtown try to act like a big city. The highlights of the evening included giant white punching bag-esque sculptures that vibrated like heart beats and you hugged them. I do enjoy interactive art. We followed this up with nachos and margaritas at one of Kansas City's most famous Mexican establishments.
And yesterday, Bill and I attended the opera-- we saw Benjamin Britton's Turn of the Screw, which is... unusual. Some amazing voices, but dissonance in opera is not my favorite. Really, I attend the opera for the big arias that make my heart soar and all that, not goofy chord structures that make my heart sour. Nevertheless, it was fun, and I wore cowboy boots, which made me feel like a bit of a rockstar.
And today I played tennis! Which I haven't played since we covered all the sports in ninth grade gym. So I think everyone would agree that I am well on my way to joining the cultural elite, yeah?

I aim to please

That's why I'm updating my blog now even though I am tired and full of nothing interesting. However, yesterday I wore a skirt and tights and suffered dearly at the hands of static cling, which, as it turns out, is bad for my self-esteem. All day yesterday I looked like I was wearing culottes, which, as we all know, are not cool at all. Then I thought to myself, no, I look like I am wearing those gaucho pants or whatever. Then I thought, gaucho, isn't that like gauche? Then I thought about how no one seemed to wear those pants in Europe except that one honeymooning (American) couple Bill and I went on a tour with in Munich. Then I thought about how the bride, in gaucho pants, looked a lot like a girl I went to elementary school with, whose full name I am tempted to enter but fear she may one day google herself. In any case, I will share it in a tricky fashion: Phe0be Haz3lw00d Har1an. When I met her in the first grade, I told my parents about my new best friend, Poeheebee. In any case, she is totally the sort who would wear gaucho pants, if she has remained the same sort of person she was in the 6th grade which is probably the last time I spoke with her. That said, I am not comfortable ruling out gaucho pants for myself. After all, I do like skirts in that length, as well as other sorts of calf- grazing attire. So maybe I will pick up a pair of those gauche pants that are filling clearance racks across Kansas City. I'm a crazy girl, I'll try anything once.