Bear with me

I bet you are wondering where I have been. No? Well Just pretend that you have. I've been on a little adventure over the weekend. I will tell you all about it when I slog through the 9 billion classes I have today.

In the meantime, amuse yourselves with this.

Just for a moment

Let's talk for a moment about my unhealthy obsession with Days of Our Lives. I need help, I do. After this episode is over.

I don't get a lot of time to watch it now that my life has spiraled into a desparate hell of one long, boring textbook chapter after another. But when I do get to watch, I relish every love triangle and case of stolen identity. Kate and Sammy's ongoing feud is always a delight. Jack's mysterious, unnamed, incurable disease (he only has a couple of weeks to live even though he looks as healthy as ever) always brings fresh tears to my eyes.

John Black has had the same quizzical look on his face for the last 30 years, and I still can't wait to catch a glimpse of his leathery face. I love how babies are gestated and born and switched at birth and abducted and aflicted with anmesia at alarming rates. I love women's uncanny inability to recall having given birth to a child.

I love watching these overdressed, inexplicably wealthy people wandering around their humongous houses, picking fights with one another and pouring themselves martini after martini. Whew. That was one long sentence.

Ooh, I gotta go. It looks like Hope and Bo are going to get in a fight over his newly discovered 18 year old daughter.

All I want for Christmas

Is this tee shirt.

Overheard on the red couch

We are sick here in wine country. Keith sat down at the table and started eating.

Me: what are you eating?

Him: Thai food. I can't taste it AT ALL. I could be eating dog brains.

Dirt and migrating and more dirt

I stole this link from sweetney. It's some honest, raw book reviews from real readers. Forget the "professional" critics. These people know what they are talking about. I especially like the C.S. Lewis review. Check Sweetney out while yer at it. She's cool and stuff. She also created a great song list. If you are really nice to her, she might even burn it for you.

drnk cookies

jesslayn s drunk making cookies and im drunk killig moths and keiths drubk watchig basbll. i want the cookie s to et and they won now and i have noth guts on my hand. psednik jsut got a won. its over

help

Okay people, I need a good idea for a halloween costume. Help me out.

I don't usually do political posts, but today I can't help myself

Okay. That's it. This bullshit has gone on long enough. Bush, Rove and Libby need to go to jail. And not a cushy one like Martha Stewart. They need to do hard time for their crimes. I think that they should be given a choice between living in a soggy shack in New Orleans, or living with a host family in Baghdad. If I believed in the death penalty, I would say that they should be shipped to Bush's home town and given a taste of their own medicine.

I don't really understand how so many people can be so blind to all of this. Many of the people who voted for him are still homeless because he hasn't done anything to help them. Their children are dying in a war that was based on total lies. I don't understand the people who say that because he is the president, we should back him up and have respect for his position. We shouldn't blindly salute him when the truth is right in front of us.

I have never been a person who gets fired up about politics, but this is not just politics.

Okay, I'm done.




p.s. I didn't write this to start a fight. Yes, I am talking to you.

Love and wine and church

Last night we had a birthday party/charity fundraiser at church. Keith, our friend Ben, and I decided it would be a good idea to hit our regular Friday night wine tasting at the Woodstock Wine and Deli before heading over to the church.

WWD happened to be doing a rather large tasting of 13 wines last night. It was a blind tasting in which you were given a piece of paper to write down your thoughts on the wine. When you got to the end, they gave you a list of what the wines actually were so as to reveal to you how little you know about wine. Keith took it very seriously and wrote a lot of comments like: green, tannic, black, buttery, young, and fruity. Ben and I tried to really taste and write down our thoughts at first, but all we could come up with were things like: weird, grapey, sassy, bitchy, yuck, yum!, etc. So we gave up and just drank the wine. All 13 varieties. And then we went to church.

All of our church social events tend to be heavy laiden with entertainment. Both intentional and unintentional. We have a lot of performers who are always eager to get up there and show us their latest. The very slow and thoughtful rendition of Mr. Bojangles was particularly touching. These shows always tend to include the majority of my family members too, for some reason. Last night, my stepdad sang, accompanied by my youngest brother on the egg. He kept forgetting to actually play said egg, but it wasn't crucial to the performance. My other brother played his guitar, and my mom shouted a lot from the audience.

I kept getting groped by a very enthusiastic 2 year old during the show. He is apparently weening and obsessing a little about the boobies. He kept trying to shove his hand down my shirt as his mother tried frantically to control him. He kept shouting, "I awmost fwee! Fwee!" as he attempted to hold up 'fwee' fingers.

People kept coming up to us and congratulating us on our engagement. One particular woman told Keith that if he didn't treat me well, he would be killed. The room was filled with so much love.

A pitiful excuse for an entry

1) We have a serious moth infestation in this house, but we can't figure out where they are coming from. They don't seem to be in our grains, but they just fly around aimlessly. We keep going on killing sprees; leaping around and wacking at them with dishtowells, but they are gaining on us fast. The walls are covered with smears of moth death. So, what do we do about it? Move out? Yeah, that's what we are thinking.

2) This weekend's weather is supposed to be spectacular. I am going to celabrate by spending it at school in the library, studying for the 45 tests I have coming up this week.

3) So, yeah, the wedding. We still don't know what the ceremony will be like, but at least we have a date. This is complicated.

4) I'm sorry I am such a pathetic blogger lately. It won't always be like this, baby, I promise.

Houston, we have a wedding

We met with the priest finally last night and were able to book our reception, at least. Okay, so our new wedding date is...da da da dum! August 24th, 2006. I don't wanna hear any whining.

I wanna hear your vision

Say that again?

I dreamed last night that I lost my right pinky toe, and my little brother lost his right ear. May I please have an explanation?

I am going to marry a genius

Keith thinks that we should just go ahead and have Cat Man marry us.

Aw!

Ever since I was about five years old, my father has lived with various roommates. It was an interesting experience for me as I grew up to come visit him and interact with such a wide variety of people. As he moved around, they changed in age, gender, ethnicity, and weirdness. There was an opera singer who's obsessive practice schedule could have been tolerated had she not been an anal, nitpicky child-hater. I remember one year I wanted to decorate the Christmas tree and she would swiftly relocate each and every decoration I placed on the tree to another, more fitting spot.

ANyway, so there are lots of crazy Dad-roommate stories, but I think that my favorite has to be a more recent one. We shall call this roommate Edgar, to protect his identity.

I happened to be visiting my dad when Edgar came over to be interviewed for the roommate postition. He brought his two pets: an lovely African Grey, and a little scruffy dog named Oliver. As they entered the house, "Olly" made a beeline for the couch where I happened to be seated.
"No, doggy" I said, as I gently pushed him off.
"I would prefer it if you used the word, 'aw!' when admonishing him" said Edgar "He understands what that means".
"Ookay. Ah!" I tentatively said to Olly who was leaping on and off the couch with wild abandon.
Olly made eye contact with me for a brief moment and hurled himself onto my lap.
"No, its 'aw' its deep in the throat" said Edgar
"Hehe, yeah, so I'm Katy. Nice to meet you" I said

So Edgar and Olly and the bird (I can't remember the bird's name) moved in with my dad, and each quickly settled into their own routine. Edgar's routine was to wake up at three o clock in the afternoon, order Chinese food and watch cable TV until he passed out. Olly's routine was to take giant shits in my father's shower and chew on garbage. The African Grey's routine mainly consisted of shitting all over the house. There was definitely no shortage of shit.

One day, Edgar came running out of the bathroom and dialed up a plummer. Apparently there was a major clog in the toilet. One so large, it would later be described as "ferret sized". A plummer came out and after careful inspection, deemed the situation hopeless. He said that he would have to break the toilet to remove the 'obstruction'. My dad pulled him aside and asked him what kind of obstruction it was. The plummer said that as far as he could tell, it was no foreign object, just an extraordinary volume of the 'usual stuff'.

They bought a new toilet, and of course, a few weeks later they encountered the same problem. A third toilet was purchased, but this time my father did some investigating. He found an industrial sized toilet with an enlarged hole and super turbo vacuum sucking power to install in the bathroom. You could flush a cat down that thing without any effort (or maybe even Olly. Believe me, it crossed my mind) So that finally solved the problem.

Edgar had the habit of sleeping with his African Grey. I am talking spooning. Under the covers. With a bird. Yes. Apparently he has done it for years without incident. The bird was completely and totally incontinent, so don't ask me how that worked. One afternoon, Edgar padded slowly out to the kitchen and sat down at the table, dejected. My dad tried to avoid his eye, but he finally broke down and asked him what was wrong. He had accidentally rolled over and killed the bird in his sleep.

He finally moved out after a long, agonizing time. It took my dad a while to recover and put another ad out for a roommate.


edited to add: I just talked to my dad. The bird's name was Einstein.

This really isn't worth your time.

My time? It is gone. My halfway interesting blog? Can't find it. I hate blogs that talk about mundane everyday stuff, and I have nothing to blog about except that today I got on the bus, went to a class, learned some stuff, ate lunch, went to another class, almost fell asleep, got home, made dinner, did homework, died a little inside, went to bed. So you see my dilemma.

I am, however, trying something new with my hair. THAT got your attention, didn't it?

Well. I am only washing it every other day. No, I am not shitting you. I want to give my hair a break from the harsh life of daily washings. So I have greasy days and clean days. People who only see me on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays must think I am a disgusting person who grew up in some different culture that doesnt do personal hygiene. Every time someone looks at me on a greasy day, I barely resist the urge to say, "I look much nicer on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, really. Here's a photo"

So put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Oy.

A disabled man hobbles onto the bus.

The bus driver turns to the man seated closest to her and says, "you are going to have to give your seat up". He replies, "I was shot in the head in November and there's a seat over there" He lifts up his hat to reveal a large dent in the side of his head. "Whatever" replies the driver.


In other news, Keith and I went on a fun adventure yesterday to his place of employment. We picked a bucket full of grapes for our first home vintage. We shall call this one the "Lumbar Pain Estate Cuvee". Those grapes be hard to pick. Yar.

Check out my Flickr Photos for documentation.

ALSO:

Our priest finally called us back and we get to talk to him in a week and a half! At least we are getting somewhere.

The day has come

I absolutely hate word verification, but the spamming has gotten to be too much.

Me! ME! Me!

Nobody tagged me, but the blogging hemisphere in my brain is dried up like an old prune.

Here we go:
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same. Or don't.
Here's mine:

"We like to speculate on what else they might have enjoyed before sacrificing their life for our dinner enjoyment."

Well. That took a long time to find. It was kind of anticlimactic.


In digging through archives, I found this. It was never published.

The following gems were overheard by me all in the span of one hour. I won't tell you who. Oh, I wish I could.

1) multifacetless
2) intuitously
3) mute point
4) drugs are a form of excapistism
5) he's very fluential


Now that I do not work there anymore, I can tell you who it was. It was my boss. He would throw out these lovely little made up words during meetings when he was trying to convey his "mute point".

Omnipotence

So we got a call from our pastor last night. Could it be because someone who reads this blog told him about how I said he was flaky? I hope not. Those words were said in anger. Anyway, he called last night.

And now I have to go back to school. Where I live.

Dribble

1) Today's Engrish spoke to me.

2) Yesterday was my incredibly insane 12 hour day at school. I decided it would be a good idea to go chug a couple of pints down with some classmates between classes. It was fun to spend a couple of hours with 3 girls that are more or less exactly like me. We love beer and kids. So we sat at the pub and drank beer and shouted lots about evidence based practice in early intervention programs.

3) Still no wedding date. I have the flakiest pastor in the history of pastures. We have called him four times this week and have not received one call back. I think that we may have to just schedule our wedding without him. He probably won't marry us anyway, seeing as how Keith is a heathen.

4) I have the best parents-in-law-to-be ever. e.ver. They read my post about the most beautiful and expensive dress in all the land and forthwith sent us a check. So that means that I get to wear it all day on the day that we get married. THANK YOU RICK AND KATHY!!!!!

5) I am the boringest blogger on the planet lately, and I apologize. I don't know what is wrong with me.

oh, I dont know

"What is that quivering lump in the corner?" People keep asking when they enter our house. "Oh, that's Katy. She's overwhelmed with life" replies Jess casually.

I did uncurl my body from the fetal position long enough to go see John Vanderslice on Friday night. If someone were to put a gun to my head and ask me to describe his stage presence in three words, I would have to say, "giggly school girl". He's all excited and giddy and happy to be playing a show for you. Which makes you enjoy the show because you feel like you are doing him a favor. His music is good too, but that is almost beside the point.

I enjoy going to shows mostly for the people watching. There are a few select categories that show-goers fall into, and it is interesting to see who its gonna be.

There's always at least one Whatever White People* moment, in which a white man or woman suddenly feels that the music is speaking to him or her and starts an interpretive dance/tribute to the band. Limbs akimbo, they are unaware of how silly they look (or maybe they are very aware, and like the attention). There is usually a lot of twirling involved.

Then there is the head bobber. A person who's entire body is motionless except for his or her head. I fall into this category quite often, I admit.

There are others like the Exhibitionist Couple, the Just Turned 21, I'm so Excited I'm in a Bar, What is This Band Called Again? girl or guy, etc.

I just got really, really tired. I have to sleep now and then read lots of chapters from lots of textbooks.



*If you haven't seen MST3K Girl in Gold Boots and watched the scene where the black men are drumming and the white people are dancing like idiots and the black men shake their heads and say "whatever white people", then you really haven't lived.