February 2010
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To counteract the grumbly post I wrote earlier, I want to praise the good people of Fort Greene who are courteous to one another as we all struggle to get through poorly shoveled or unshoveled sidewalks without slipping and breaking our necks.
(But to return to grumbly for just one second: Seriously, there is some bullshit shoveling going on out there.)
(Ungrumbly: Love you madly all who are...
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Things I do not miss about commuting to a full...
Rude people on the subway. Move out the doorway, close yer damn legs, quit hogging the pole. Some jerk next to me is taking up both lean-against-the-door spots. (This post composed on a Blackberry, with my thumb, as I held with my other hand a pole shared by two other people. Sharing is caring, for real, people.)
blargh
I dreamt that I woke up and it was only 6:30, so I went back to sleep. When I finally woke up it was 9:30. I will never catch up to this day.
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“So you’re still reading about body parts, it’s just that...”
– My mom, after I told her that I was now reviewing mysteries and thrillers in addition to erotica.
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My mom and stepdad made it to 20 years. Yay them!
“You got dreams. You want fame. Well, fame costs. And right here is where you...”
– Debbie Allen, from the first episode of Fame, the first two seasons of which are available on Netflix Instant Watch (along with the movie).
I did a little bloggy thing on it here.
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TCB, GSD →
My Year of Getting Shit Done takes a leap forward.
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I’m set up in my office, currently at less than landfill and now just pretty messy status, scanning in old articles so that I have more writing samples to send out in case anyone asks.* (It’s embarrassing to confess that I keep forgetting that, um, hey, I’ve been published. A few times. And I have to stop thinking about this as something I can’t do.) The last time I spent...
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Seven more weeks on my T-Mo contract.
49 days.
On Day 50: I walk into an Apple Store.
Thoughts on Lost - "The Substitute" →
You know it’s going to be good when it’s Locke-centric.
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“The obsession took root in the mid-eighties when manager Steve Pagnotta began...”
– from the Tortilla Flats website, explaining the origin of Ernest Borgnine Night, the annual madcap romp with games and (hopefully) a re-enactment of the Poseidon capsizing, all in celebration of the 93-year-old Oscar-winning actor (and voice of Mermaid Man).
I set up that tumblr replies dealie
But I don’t get it. Only people *I* follow can reply to this via some method other than leaving an answer? What’s the reasoning behind that? (Serious question.)
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someday
Someday, Apple will make a laptop keybord with keystht neverstopworking.
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Dan: Women, I find, are attracted to men with superior Mario Kart skills.
Me: The right kind of women, yeah.
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Why we work*, according to Dan
Dan: How about for Valentine's Day I take you out for dinner at a real nice place?
Me: Or we could stay here and I'll make lasagna and drinks and we can play video games.
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Update: A very nice and sympathetic person at Time Warner Cable whose name I don’t remember (age! booze!) fixed my Internet problem. I am now watching the Sweden vs. Switzerland woman’s hockey game. This is much better.
(Game’s already over in real time, but the next one doesn’t start for a couple hours. NO SPOILERS! Just kidding. But seriously, don’t tell me...
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So, NBC, you’re telling me I can’t watch live streaming of a handful of events, or any of the full-event replays the next day, because I don’t have the right KIND of internet service?
And now that I supposedly HAVE that service (thank you, Veronica @ TWC), you’re telling me I’m STILL not authorized?
Fuck you.
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The produce is revolting
Opened a cupboard just now and a bag of dates fell on my head.
MORE FIBER. I GET IT.
Now I don’t feel at all bad for wanting to wrap you in bacon. You deserve it, you smug healthy bastards.
