Love:
1. Constantine the movie
yes, yes, I know
there is only so much wandering a script can do from a (line of) graphic novel(s) and this one wanders far and wide
but hello, Constantine the movie
I love you. I dont care how badly you raped the story line of Hellblazer . I understand the notion of two hours = movie and eleventy four frillon graphic novellas do not a script make. Sequel please?
2. Mandarin Orange Chicken Salad from Wendys. Hi there, how you doin? I love that peanutty dressing stuff that you put in that package that is so hard to open that a graduate from MIT couldnt open it without a miter saw and a incantation from a Wiccan high priestess, or the fact that my arteries harden at the sight of the roasted almonds and the fat content of the said yummy dressing on a FUCKING SALAD you whores! But, still
My love will go on.
3. My new haircut. I will from now on call it my hair-cute, because it is so effing cute. I have good hair. I wanted to flounce into the den this morning and proclaim to Mister that, Miss Truvy, I promise that my personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair. I have bangs. I have cute bangs. And apparently bangs are in. What? Are they the new black or something? I didnt get the memo
but then again, I havent gotten my hair cut since
Good Lord
Last AUGUST? I should be shot. I had long ratty hair that was all knotted and uuuugh. Why didnt yall tell me? Stacy and Clinton from TLCs What Not to Wear would have crucified me in the 360 mirror. And I would have CRIED.
4. Member how I was telling you guys what a rocking husband I have? Well, here is more proof, not like you need any more or anything
but yet
here I am, always at the ready to atoll his awesomeness. I have had this little lamp since my Mommy changed my bedroom from little girl Raggedy Ann motif to a big girl cream with little pink and blue flowers motif (awwww) when I was still wee, but old enough to know that Raggedy Ann sucked. (Those big black eyes
so dead and empty
eeeeeesh.. gah.) Anyway, I have had this stupid lamp forrrrrreeeevvvvver. Remember that I am as old as Methuselah. Um, O-L-D. I keep it on my bedside table and whenever I am trying to read it flickers on and off and I curse it, Stupid lamp, I hate you. Nobody loves you, yanno. Your lampshade looks all cracked out. It would never stay on for more than like 4.36 minutes at a time and it would go off during the most inconvenient time. Like when I would be trying to find matching socks in the morning? Flicker out. Reading a book and come to the place where the killer is sloooowly climbing the stairs to attack his prey? Flicker out. And it would reFUSE to come back on. Fucker. So
my husband never wanting to part with anything that is a tie to my childhood (because that is a tie to me) took cracker-lamp to the lamp place and bought all the parts to rewire that sucker. He did all the work himself and fixed her up right. Then Monday we went and got a nice new lamp shade that is so modern and nice. Shes so pretty and she works! I love my new non-cracker-lamp!
Hate:
1. Budgeting. I am not a numbers goddess. I am creative and flowery and like music, movies, escapism, massages, laughing and puppies. Budgeting is none of those things, therefore, it sucks. It is that time of the year
which sounds like we are all in the midst of menses
why cant I get paid for talking on the phone, taking people to lunch, wearing cute clothes and having cute hair? (see #3 above
)
2. Sleeeeeepy. Although, I am sure that my sleepiness is mostly due to boredom, which can be directly traced back to
you guessed it. Budgeting.
Convinced that:
1. That new Dr. Pepper commercial where they do that Manamana thing was the brainchild of my little journal here as I started linking to the song like a mad bastard back in August of last year, in this entry (first link), and also over at MATH+1. Never mind the fact that like 2 people read this.
2. I may be the only non-pregnant woman I know. Everyone on the internet is expecting and most of the people (women) I know in real life are expecting or just had babies. Except for my office mate
oh, and my mom.
3. I also may be certifiably insane or extremely well adapted at exaggerating.
Pardon me while I go eat this Mandarin Orange Chicken Salad from Wendys.