The blah days of summer..

I got my super-uber Vogue the other day. Every fall Vogue puts out their Fall Fashion Spectacular. It's usually very large and chock full of ads. This one is unbelievably large. I still haven't gotten half way through it. It's 832 pages long, people! Who needs a magazine that big? Well, apparently, I do since I have it.. I can't tell you how many articles I've missed just dully flipping past countless ads. Vogue has the most ads of any magazine ever. Around 63%, according to Cockeyed.com's Science Club. With all of those ads, they should be paying me to read. I give it another week before I finish it. I'm magazined out.

I need books. Real books. That, for me, means a trip to the library. I plow through books so often and so quickly that I've stopped buying them unless I find an absolute gem that I must have now. Then, I'll shell out the bucks for it. Other than that, it's a trip to the library for me. The problem is that I live near a very small library. I either have to go several towns away to the larger library or fill out an intra-library loan card. They haven't set all of that up on computer yet. I keep asking when they'll do that. They never know.

So, before I head out on my trip to the library, I have to have my list. Yes, I keep a list of various books or I blank completely by the time I get to the library. It's like me and my music. I keep a list of albums I want. I'm fond of lists. I lose most of them, but I love making them. Makes me feel like I've accomplished something and that I'm all grown up or something. There are lists all over my house, in my purse, and on my desk. My desk is drowning in lists. I clean it weekly, but I think they multiply overnight. I see little scraps of yellow (Yes, I have to have yellow lined paper. I'm lost without it.) paper already decorating my desk and I just cleaned it yesterday.

I'll just have to make a to-do list, I guess..

***

I added some links to a few webcomics that I'm rather fond of. Enjoy.

***

Countdown: 1 week! Yes, only 7 days until school starts! Woo!

Gorey-ness!

The GashlyCrumb Tinies - You have a terribly wicked
sense of humour and people are drawn to your
wit. Children beware of the thin, pale man
with the black umbrella!


Which Edward Gorey Book Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

***

You will be sucked dry by a leech. I'd stay away
from swimming holes, and stick to good old
cement. Even if it does hurt like hell when
your toe scrapes the bottom.


What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
brought to you by Quizilla

Some more rambling..

I'm still recovering from yesterday. I feel like an old woman sometimes. It's sad. It doesn't help that it's so humid that I can't breathe. I've had my inhaler near me at all times today. Blech. I hate getting older. Ok, I know, I'm not old. I know I'm not old. But there's that little part of me that whispers "You're almost 30" and makes me feel like shit. I didn't accomplish half of what I wanted to do by the time I got this old. I feel like I'm racing against time and I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to be doing with my life.

Not that these thoughts are anything new.. I've had them many times over many years. It's always been "You're almost 20" or "You're almost 25" and racing, racing, racing. I never was quite sure if I was running to something or running from something. I mostly felt like a hamster running in one of those wheels. I feel that I have some purpose that I need to fulfill. I feel angry that I still don't know what it is. Shouldn't I have some clue by now? Doesn't this sort of wisdom come with age?

I still feel lost. Like little girl lost. Just like how I felt on my first day at kindergarten.

God, how depressing am I tonight?

***

Some humor:

The Dihydrogen Monoxide Research Division or DMRD. I wonder how many don't get this..

The Meat Thief. I tell ya, meat makes people do strange things.

Ok, birthday cake does, too.

***

Countdown: 8 days

Living Dead Girl

I'm so very tired. It's all my fault. I spent all night reading. You know how it is when you're near the end of a book. You figure "Oh, just a few more pages. I'll read it. Shouldn't take long." That shouldn't take long always takes longer than you think and, the next thing you know, it's almost 4 AM and you have a full day planned. It doesn't help that I have my days all screwed up. I keep thinking it's Saturday instead of Sunday. I shuffled through my shopping in a daze. I exchanged that purse from last week for the purse I really wanted. I'm much happier now. I got a new wallet, too. Got a much needed trim from my dear school buddy. We got in a bunch of gossiping and all that good stuff. It was a fun and busy day. But, boy, do I feel dead..

***

Speaking of dead, I've been watching season one of Dead Like Me. I love, love, love this show. It's right up my alley. There should be more dark comedies. And Callum Blue (get a load of that Bond Boy name, J) is so very yummy. I love how they made death light-hearted and funny. Not an easy thing to do when so many people are so afraid of it.

Never been afraid of death really. I'm much more afraid of other things, like: getting in a horrible accident and having every bone crushed but not dying, becoming a vegetable, or going completely bat-shit insane. Then, there are those deaths that I wouldn't exactly be thrilled with, such as: burning alive, being eaten alive, being buried alive, being choked or suffocated. Throw in a clown in any of those scenarios and I'm even less thrilled.

I guess I'm kinda weird for not being afraid of death. I don't know.. I just feel there are many worse things in life than death. Death is the least of my worries. That doesn't mean I look forward to it or anything. I am rather attached to my life. But I don't see the point in living in fear of something that's inevitable. And who wants to live forever anyway?

Oh, the humanity..

Barely caught this on the news last night. I'm still shaking my head over that one. How tacky is that? And to say they didn't know what toys they were putting in their candy? The whole thing makes me feel pissed off and disgusted.

I guess it ain't over even when it's over with this couple. I have all of these morbidly funny images dancing through my head. Imagine the wedding photos. The couples' first dance. Cutting the cake. Do you bring a gift? Is there a reception or a wake? Maybe I should stop now..

You, too, can have a "real" fake girlfriend. Even if you're horribly disfigured or socially inept, you can get yourself a girlfriend to spend tons of cash on. If you don't, she won't speak to you. I don't know whether I should feel insulted by the mercenary nature of the "girlfriend" or to pity the schmuck that gets her.

***

Countdown: 10 days

D'oh!

I forgot the countdown..

11 more days until freedom!

***

Aren't these Ugly Dolls the cutest things ever? Thanks to S for the many new things I will be coveting, including Ox. Makeup wasn't enough?

Fuckin' A!

Just got The Thermals album Fuckin' A that I have been coveting for so long. There has been much rocking of various socks in the Prophet household. I'm a very happy girl! Of course, I'm still dealing with the allergies an' all so I rock out like a spazz, then get dizzy for a bit, sit quietly until the music takes me again.. This has been going on all afternoon.

Yes, I am a big ol' geek, thank you very much for noticing.

***

In other news, I've added some new links. These are a few of my favorite places to haunt filled with funny-funny pretty people that I semi-worship/adore. Read them and bask in the coolness.

Brain-Tied and Useless..

My allergies have been awful lately. I've been miserable. My usual medication isn't doing the trick, the pollen count is that high. I've had to live on Advil Cold & Sinus. My brain feels like it's been replaced with soft fluffy clouds. I find myself staring off at nothing for long periods of time. I think I've been lobotomized. And I'm ok with that. Thinking is overrated.

***

I think I've run out of music. I need new bands to hunt down and lust after. Some of the bands I like are listed in my profile. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd be grateful. I needs my music.

***

Starting countdown for kids' first day of classes.
12 more days until that happy day.

Linkage

Wow.. Ok. I'm not even sure what to say about this guy. There's that fine line between disturbing and funny. Come up with your own joke and pretend I said it, k?

And this? Ew. Britney, dear, I'm sure you can afford a pair of flip-flops or something 'cause, damn, walking barefoot in a public restroom is some nastiness, doll. Ew. Just looking at that brings out the germaphobe in me.

Speaking of toilets.. Now everyone's (or everything's) a critic. And, no, that's not creepy at all either. It harkens back to the days when I feared the toilet monster. Oh, shut up! You know you did, too.

And since we're in the same general area.. Vincent Gallo and the most expensive blowjob ever. Do you know how many guys are smacking themselves on the forehead now? Why didn't they think of that sooner? Chloe explains things...sorta. Oooh, so it's evolved and avant-garde-y. Ok. Anything you say, darlin'.

Curses! Foiled again!

This is what I get for opening my big mouth!

Two psychos come oozing their way out of the woodwork. Not one, two.

Deep breaths.. I can get through this. I've done it before.

Ok. To be honest, they'd already sorta been around. The psychos that is. But the true essence of their psychosis-- pyschossence?-- wasn't revealed truly until after my posting yesterday. I'm sending out some weird bat signal to the mentally skewed.

Must...hide..

Nothing Ado About Anything

Or how life is rather boring and I'm loving it!

No, really. I love it when my life hits these boring spots. They're all too brief moments of respite in my altogether overly melodramatic life. As I was telling a friend last night (Yes, you, JT), for me life is truly stranger than fiction. I draw all kinds of ridiculous drama. Most of it is amusing and, therefor, enjoyable. Some of it can be stressful. It also doesn't help that I draw all kinds of psychos and freaks, both good and bad. I rather enjoy the good ones, wish there were less of the bad ones.

An example of the bad? Oh, yes, I have several but I'll retell the most amusing one. A few of you have already heard this one and can skip it.

I call this: The Meat Man or Psychos You Can Meet in Supermarkets

I was about 14 or so. Every summer we'd go to the shore and rent a cottage for a week. We still do our annual trip to the shore, but now it's a different shore and we stay at a motel. We'd run to the local supermarket and pick up supplies for our week-long vacation.

Oh, I should mention the cast of characters on this trip. First, we have my parents, of course. Then there's my cousin. An only child also, we were pretty much raised as brother and sister since his mother was my father's twin. He always went on vacations with us. And, last but never least, moi.

Ok, so we're at the local supermarket down at the shore. My father and cousin wander off somewhere as they are wont to do and my mom and I are traipsing down the aisles picking out goodies. We head on over to the meat section. My father likes his steak. I park the cart diagonally against the meat display case. It's secured against the little rubber bumper they run along those things. This is important. Remember this detail. The cart is wedged in at an angle and not easily moved. I'm in that little corner/angle idly looking at the steak, my mother is nearer the opening of our little angle picking up various packages of pre-wrapped steak.

This young man walks up to the display case. He's about 20 or so or he looked to be to me. Attractive, normal looking. We all smile and nod at each other then go back to our inspection of meat. I'm kinda checking out the guy 'cause hell I'm 14 and what 14 year old isn't gonna check out a kinda cute guy, right?

Out of the blue, he suddenly lunges at the pre-wrapped steak he's holding. He begins gnawing at it. I think I may have even heard a snarl. My jaw drops. You don't expect this sort of thing at your local supermarket. My mom looks horrified. Ok, horrified doesn't even explain it. She looked like she was about to pee herself she was so scared. She starts shoving me away from the bad man, since he's on her other side, but the cart is wedged in tightly against the rubber bumper so she's only squishing me.

During this brou-ha-ha, the man-- who I'm still watching-- calmly sets down the steak-- shredded wrapper and all-- and walks away. He has some streaks of blood on his face from the meat. My mom's still flipping out. The situation was so...bizarre that I did the one thing I could think of. I laughed my ass off.

We scurry away and eventually find my father and cousin. They, of course, don't believe a damn word of the story. Maybe because at this point my mom and I were both laughing so hard we could barely get out the story, but I swear it's true! Very strange, but completely true. Every so often when something really weird happens to us, my mom and I will turn to each other nod and say "Remember the meat man?"

This happens often enough that, well, I've begun to wonder what kind of vibes I'm sending out there. Do I have some kind of invisible sign stuck to my back that only weirdos can read? So you see why I enjoy my periods of boredom. I need to prepare for the next psychotic attack.

Ahh.. The Life of a Dysfunctional Care Bear..

Nihilist Bear


Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Confessions of a Shopping Addict

I'm so unbelievably tired. Couldn't sleep at all last night. The humidity kept me up and when I don't get sleep, I get cranky. When I get cranky, I shop to make all right with my little world. And I shopped..

Went to Macys. I practically live there. I wouldn't have gone, but mom had to return some pants that didn't fit quite right. Then I remembered that Estee Lauder was giving away stuff if you spent $23 some odd dollars. Yes, I ran to that counter. I figured I'd get a lipgloss/stick or shadow or eyeliner or something. They're wily, those Macys people. They price it so you'll have to buy at least two things to get the free goodies. So instead of buying only one of the above, I had to get two. I spent $40 something on an eyeshadow (Pure Color in Berry Ice--lovely) and lipgloss(Pure Color Lip Vinyl in Copper Fantasy--just adds a bit of shimmer). I should feel ashamed, but I got some kickin' stuff with it. A mini-tweed bag, a makeup bag (Love it!), lipgloss (Pure Color Gloss in Copper--looks kinda like Lancome's Juicy Tubes), lipstick (Pure Color Long Lasting Lipstick in Tiger Eye), brush set (Lash comb/brow brush, lip brush, eyeshadow brush), mini-moisturizer, mini-night serum. I'm actually wearing the free lipstick now, I love it so much. Pretty pretty! I hope that was enough detail for you, S.

I'm also suffering from buyer's remorse. I needed a fall handbag. There I was trying to decide between two. I got talked into one I was unsure of. Now I hate it. It looks to like it's a decent size, but there is no room inside. I wound up getting so pissed off with it, I almost threw it to the ground to stomp on it. So I'm going to try to return that and get the other one. This is why you should go with your gut and not follow another person's advice!

Got a few other things but those were the major purchases. I adore the makeup and the little makeup bag. It's the perfect length for liners and brushes. I hate when they make them too short. Then you have to shove everything in either diagonally or leave them out altogether. Of course, that's when you'll wind up needing those things you left behind.

***

In other news, the guy finally finished the bathroom. It took three days. Three days for a one day job. Ugh..

Mish-mash

I've got nothing but some links and some comments. Let's kick it off..

I agree whole-heartedly with this article. Celebrities should not be allowed to name anything, particularly their children. He did forget to mention Demi Moore's poor children: Rumer, Scout LaRue, and Tallulah Belle. This is why you should wait for the drugs to wear off before you fill out the birth certificate.

Their making a movie of Memoirs of a Geisha! I absolutely loved the book. I hope they do it justice. Arthur Golden delved deep into the geisha culture without losing the narrative thread and he made it seem effortless. A beautiful story. I highly recommend the book and I can't wait to see the movie.

The Pixies! Reunited after 12 years. The picture confused the hell out of me. I just learned that Frank Black (a.k.a. Black Francis) is in actuality Charles Thompson. I had a major d'oh moment there. "That guy looks like Frank Black, but they say he's this Charles Thompson dude. Are they trying to make me insane?" Yeah, I'm a bit slow on the up-take. Anyway.. I have to say that I have listened to "Bam Thwok" and I'm in love. My beloved Pixies are back!

That is all. Go forth and..read or something. I dunno.

Why I don't diet..

I was talking to J, or hammer boy as I like to call him, about why I don't do well on diets. Particularly the very popular low carb diets that are all the rage these fifteen minutes. The main problem? Any diet that says I can't have my Mountain Dew is not the diet for me. I need my caffeine. And I don't do any of that diet soda crap. The aftertaste is awful. Then there's the other carbs, such as: breads, pastas, potatos, etc. The good stuff. Manna.

You either have to severely limit your intake of those items or take them out completely. Pshhyeah right.

I'd try to outsmart the low carb diet gods. I figured I'd use a 2:1 ratio, the 2 being protein to 1 carb. I wound up eating rather large amounts of food trying to sustain that ratio. It was torture. I'm not much of a meat eater.

Then I figured that I'd cut back on my sugar intake just a wee bit. One Mountain Dew a day is enough, right? Right? Ha! Not bloody likely, my friend. That's just a teaser. But I was determined to be a good girl. I drank vast amounts of tea with that sugar substitute. It didn't last long. And I love tea.

I tried seriously upping my veg intake. I ate so many vegetables that, well, it wasn't pretty. What goes in must come out, you know. Particularly vegetables. So that ended rather quickly. I couldn't live life in the toilet. Yes, ew, I know.

I spent more time trying to outsmart the carbs and I only wound up outsmarting myself. I'm very good at that. I've called a truce... At least until the next diet craze comes along.

Same as it ever was?

I woke up at the ass crack of dawn today. Why? Because some guy's supposed to come over and retile part of the bathroom. Has he shown up yet? Why, of course not, you silly person! Since when do people ever show up when they say they will? So I've been sitting here, at my computer, vegging out. Trying to rub together two brain cells to spark a thought. I'm not very successful. I've had the Talking Heads running through my head this fine morning, hence the title. I'd hand out cool points to whoever can name the song, but I think it's too easy.

I've been listening to other music to distract. But every so often a little snippet of the song slithers through my head and drives me insane. I think I have it on my playlist somewhere. I should check rather than risk losing my mind completely. If no one hears from me that means the song got me and I'm hiding under my desk, weeping and babbling incoherently. This would be different from my usual incoherent babble since I'd be under my desk and I'm not usually found there.

And where is that guy?!

Some rambling..

I've been so tired lately. That deep down bone-tired. And I don't know why.. I've been getting enough sleep, but I never feel rested in the morning. Just tired. But I'm not minding that so much. I'm kinda going with the flow.

I have absolutely nothing to write about. But that's what I do best, talk about nothing. It comes with working with the public, I guess. You have to be able to make a lot of small talk, inoffensive small talk.

That means no: politics and/or religion. Or any hot topics. We're actually taught this in cosmetology school. There were a few other laughable things we were taught, like: bathe often, dress nicely, don't stink, and wear clean underwear. Yes, they told us to wear clean underwear. I guess in case we need to go to the emergency room, because god forbid we have messy undies when we're near death.

I never understood that. If I'm near death, the last thing I'm going to worry about is what my underwear looks like. In fact, depending on how I get that close to death, I will very likely have messed my undies somewhere along the line. And if I were a doctor, I'm sure I'd have seen worse than dirty knickers.

Speaking of knickers, I got my Victoria's Secret catalog today. If I ever wanted to look like a model, I'd want to look like one of them. These are no clothes hanger type models.. They have amazing bodies. Curvy yet athletic. And they're pretty! I never understood why the supermodel went away. Now we have these plain, awkward, painfully thin women strutting down the runways. Who needs to be that thin? Eat a damn sandwich!

A Plague of Witches

So I'm flipping through my September issue of Marie Claire and I stumble across an interesting little article. It's about witches, but not the kind you'd think of. No, not a pagan practicing Wicca. Not even the black clad, pointy hatted kind. These "witches" are children. The people of Congo are blaming their children for the country's misfortunes. They are subjected to mental and physical abuse in the name of exorcism. They are forced from their homes and sent to "churches" to be cured. If they resist, they are killed. I was shocked and horrified by the ignorance shown. It's like something out of The Crucible, not real life in this modern age. Then I see this little panel with blurbs about other countries, even the US and the UK. This is a world-wide problem. Will we still be hunting "witches" in another hundred years? It blows my mind.

~*The Heavenly Choir of Angels Sing*~

Do you hear them? I know I did when I opened my mailbox today. Nestled inside was my new Sephora catalog.

Ahh.. Yes, I see some of you nodding knowingly now.

For those of you still staring blankly at the screen, Sephora is the makeup store. Ok, that's an understatement. It's the Makeup Mecca. I worship at its Comptoir Sud Pacifique scented altars. I offer up my first born as sacrifice to Nars. I genuflect before Stila.

I'm addicted. I'm in love. It's heaven.

So I'm flipping through my catalog.. Various whimpers, moans and groans can be heard as I spy yet another thing that I must have now!! Sighs of despair resound through my house when I realize that it cannot be.

Alas, I am broke.

The Holy Grail?

Those of you reading know full well how addicted I am to skincare items. Buying and using. You also know of my love for The Soap. All hail the Queen!

So, after coming back from the annual family trip from the shore and spying not one, not even two or three!!, but four zits--or spots as you Brits adorably call them (love that, makes them sound so charming)--well, I knew I had to do something about it! This was no job for mere Soap alone! These were out of control! They could not be beaten down by any of my usual arsenal of products. Since I needed to eventually get a new Soap, and got a 10% discount coupon, I decided to see what other goodies were to be had there. $140.40 later, minus several discounts and free first class s&h, I left the computer feeling a bit shaky. Yes, I spent that friggin much! I still can't believe it.

The package arrived only days later. Friday, to be exact. I, of course, wanted to use it all right away. But I showed a modicum of restraint and held off, only trying the Amuny "S".

This would be a good time to list the products I bought, wouldn't it?
I bought:

• The Soap
• Amuny Clean Moisturizing Pack (a mask)
• Amuny Lotion Skin Conditioner
• Amuny "S" Treatment

The only thing I did not buy in the line was the Amuny "E" Lotion. See? More restraint! Well, I've only used them since Friday night, but the difference is noticable. I woke up Saturday and my skin was luminous. Seriously. Those evil, nasty zits? Shrunk. In one night! I didn't even use my usual Burt's Bees Herbal Blemish Stick. Some things that shocked me? The mask? Was slightly slimy feeling, but in a good way. Very cooling and not at all drying. Even with kaolin as the main ingredient. And the lotion? Not a lotion. It's liquid. But you only need a few drops for the whole face and that stuff does moisturize without being greasy in the least.

I'm a happy camper!

A brief funny moment

Picture this:

Going to the bank before we go shopping. In the car: My mother (driving), me, my kids in the back. It was insane. Idiot drivers everywhere. I comment, "It looks like the stupid parade is in town today."

My son pipes up from the back, "Do you think they'll throw candies and toys to the kids?"

Google-stalking

We've all done it. Admit it. You're curious about that certain someone, think it might go somewhere, you Google them. Or, you Google yourself to see what there is out there about you. Or, you Google your past. Old friends, enemies, exes.. All are free game for this.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you find the person you're looking for.

And sometimes you become giddy for a moment. A little triumphant even.

And sometimes that moment of triumph turns sour when you realize what you found was not such a good thing.

No, I'm not talking about jealousy or anything like that. You find some very, very sad news.

How do you feel? You don't know these people anymore. Do you have any right to mourn for/with them? You haven't seen/talked to/written in ages... But you do feel like grieving. You did know them well once. You were very close once. Stupid things got in the way. Life got in the way. You grew apart. But that doesn't erase what once was, does it?

I Googled an old friend today. Someone I hadn't seen/talked to/written in ages. I found an obituary. Not her's. Her son's. The boy that used to refer to me as his aunt. The one who practicially lived at my house. He was only 21. He would've been 22 in September. But, to me, he's always that gawky boy that I first met with the goofy smile.

He never aged in my mind. In my memories. Now he'll never age at all.

Little bits of randomness..

Happy Friday the 13th!

It's been a busy day already and it will only get busier as the day goes on. So here are some random links..

For the science geeks: Aerogel
Isn't that stuff cool? I keep staring at it in awe.. Here's my geek moment: Science rocks!
(link supplied by my friend E)

For the political geeks: A Gay American
Yes, that was the sound of my jaw dropping onto my desk.

Bits of funniness: Rootbeer and Kikoman
Very funny, very bizarre.
(links supplied by my funny friend J)

Can't forget the music geeks: Jellybones video by The Unicorns
Yes, that is an awful lot of pink..

How do I get talked into these things?

No, really.. How do I manage to get talked into doing the one thing I cannot do? I'm the worst writer I know. Ok, I guess it doesn't help that all of my friends are writers and I'm the only one in the bunch who isn't. But, well, the evidence is all here....for many, many people to see.

So why am I here and writing? Or sorta writing.. Pseudo-writing.

Because I am a sucker, as one of my friends so quaintly puts it.