K-Lo -
I am going to write you a big long e-mail when I get back from Justin's in two days (or maybe I will tomorrow), but I miss you a whole bunch and your letter was so sweet and January 24 isn't coming fast enough, so I might hijack Amy and come visit you in JC. Speaking of that little devil, Justin and I are going to play with her tonight. I am so excited. (And in case you haven't checked, the NB postings haven't been updated since we went on vacation - I think they're falling apart without us.)
love,
Snoop
ps - Kiss that baby for me!
Paul, they don't exist. They never did. Don't make me come all the way to Nebraska just to kick your ass.
I'm about to start sewing but wanted to jot down a few things before my soul is taken over by the iron and a rotary cutter.
Christmas is an okay holiday. It makes me sad because there are so many little kids that don't get to have much of a Christmas and I always have a great one.
The presents are great and the food was great, but the best part of the whole day was having my champagne-drinking mother name all the short people she knew. It was quite a list. Then she called me a Wookie for 10 minutes.
I'm wearing dog socks. NEW dog socks. You're jealous, I can tell.
So I was awake at the buttcrack of dawn this morning (we're talking pre-sun here, people) walking through our neighborhood and the one across Devil's Glen with mammy, pappy and the puppy, as well as the neighbor and her dog. Penny was out of control. I think besides being part crocodile she is also part kangaroo. It was seven degrees at 5:35 this a.m. and I was cold for a very long time afterwards. Then Dad went to Panera to get bagels, I ate one and went back to bed.
This afternoon, we are going to see
Drumline at the cheap seats. Mmm, drumlines. I'm excited.
Peny knows I'm awake and is making baby bird sounds downstairs. It's the saddest sound I've ever heard.
Justin gets to go home today! I'm very happy for him. He sounded sad last night (no matter how much he said he didn't).
Why Wayne's World is better than Wayne's World 2:
* Phil, the drunk guy in the backseat
* Rob Lowe
* Alice Cooper's speech about the origins of Milwaukee
* the
Laverne and Shirley tribute
* "I'm having fun...not."
* The Suck-o-Matic. It really
does suck.
* dream woman
* Mr. Donut-head-man
Why Wayne's World 2 is better than Wayne's World:
* the Village People tribute
* "I like 'em teeny and toasty."
* any scene with Garth and Kim Basinger
* Aerosmith
I'm going to have to go with
Wayne's World because
2 has the naked Indian, a Jim Morrison impersonator who doesn't look like Jim Morrison, the fight between Wayne and Cassandra's dad and no Phil. Phil is really what makes the movie.
Just so everyone knows, Wayne's World and Wayne's World 2 are on TNN (or TNT? TBS?) tonight starting at 6 p.m. Party on.
I'm in the middle of a crocheting frenzy. Will I get the blanket done by tomorrow? Tune in next time to find out (right now I'm saying yes, but if my wrist starts hurting I'm going to be out of commission for a few hours and that will totally throw off my schedule).
Now I'm going to lift weights so I'll be prepared when I see people I don't like. I'll just pick them up and toss them the hell out of the way.
* I retract what I said about Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn. I looked up some pictures of him in real life and he is in no way as attractive as he is in Lord of the Rings. It must be the dirtiness, long hair and the sword. The facial hair might have something to do with it, too. Never fear Justin Timberlake - the ACTOR will not replace you, but just the role the actor plays.
It's a tired Kristin that writes this post.
But she will not speak in third person because it really bothers her when people sending in hometowners do that. It is confusing and dumb and every single person from the j-school (well, not the photo or ad majors, actually, because photo majors say very little on hometowners and ad majors have nothing to brag about except for the fact that they didn't wring the department chair's neck during the semester from hell) does it, like they're reporting on themselves. It kind of freaks me out - separating from yourself to write about yourself like you're a stranger to yourself...
And yes, it was a long drive back to Iowa today. I did, however, sing along with Color Me Badd's "I Wanna Sex You Up," which always reminds me of my friend Mimi from high school who was a foreign exchange student from Brazil. I was with her when she bought her first American bra. It was a proud moment.
Lord of the Rings was great. It wasn't as scary as the first one and the Orks weren't as blue. And Aragorn was SO FREAKING HOT that I very nearly stopped breathing every time he smiled. Or frowned. Or blinked. This may be premature, but I think he might be my new Justin Timberlake. We knew that day would come sometime, but did we know that it would be prompted by a long-haired guy with a sword?
It's nice to be home. We went to the Alcoa Christmas basket thingy tonight and assembled boxes of food for needy families in the area. It always makes me want to cry seeing everyone coming right over after work and helping people they don't even know. The little kids give you the vegetables and canned goods and they're so sweet and they don't even realize what good things they're doing. And everyone's laughing and having fun and it makes me really happy and sad all at once.
Roxy has boycotted the kitchen and is staying in my room this visit. She's next to the computer, just like she is in Missouri. I think the buzzing comforts her.
It's going to be a lonely week or so in my bed. I like sleeping alone when I'm exhausted and stressed out, but not when I'm relaxing for long periods of time. It's lonely and there's no one to wake up when I get up to go to the bathroom five times a night. Well, except my dad, but he thinks I'm an intruder and yet doesn't get up to see if I'm stealing things.
I miss you, Justin.
Let me tell you about Kathy From the Block (now and forever known as my girl KLo).
KLo was my boss. Was. Today was her last day. She has this smile that could light up Los Angeles during an energy crisis. Her laugh blows out of her cubicle and races down the hall and around the corner to find me. She's the kind of person that you want as your sister, your mom and your best friend.
KLo met ESPN anchor John Anderson and even got to drive his baby around. She says "Oodelay" instead of hello. She loves Buffy. She thinks a certain MU faculty member is good...for her to poop on. She gives me missions and I accept them. She makes coming into work each day fun and exciting.
I was scared when I started working at the top of Jesse Hall. I didn't know anyone and the girl that I shared a cube with was so scary that I wanted to quit right away (well, maybe not, maybe she's the coolest girl I've known in a long time, but anyway) and KLo was my friend and made me smile. She says there's always room for me at her house if I want to have a sleepover.
I always thought that there wasn't anyone I'd like to be when I grew up, that I would be my own person and find my own way. I think I'll still do that, but KLo's the closest thing to what I want to be.
I'll miss ya, KLo. I can't wait to play with you and the other girls in January. But it's not going to be the same (not even if they hire a really hot guy in your place).
Love always,
Snoop
I hate waking up in a bad mood. I went to sleep in one and now I'm here. I even got up early to be in this mood.
There was no dancing last night because I am a big poop and also a pretty bad friend. I hope he doesn't hate me for ever.
I haven't started planning my presentation to our client today. That's why I'm up. Hopefully I will be done early enough before work that I can play Contra and get all this bad stuff out of my system.
I keep having dreams about people that make me angry. This is not helping. All of you people, go away.
* Note to Rob and Scott: Sorry about not making it over last night. Girl Sleuths tortured me for quite awhile and then I was not in a festive mood.
And today is my favorite boss in the whole entire world's last day. I don't want to talk about it.
Oh. My. God.
I just saw Justin Timberlake's new video, "Cry me a River," and let me tell you, it is creeee-py. It's all about him stalking Britney and having sex with this girl on Britney's bed and taping it and then playing it while Britney's in the shower. The girl in the video really does look like Britney and he kicks and actual picture of Britney into the camera. Even when he's a stalker he's the sexiest man alive.
And he's wearing a black hooded sweatshirt just like "my" Justin has. Except mine had it first.
Now I just have 22 minutes to write that thing. Damn you, MTV.com.
I just finished writing my detective story la la la la la.
Thirty-six minutes until *NSYNC dance extraveganza. Buy your tickets now before they're all gone.
Yes, I CAN write a critical analysis of Cherry Ames, Visiting Nurse in 36 minutes. And what's more, I will.
I took my one and only final and now I'm at work. Long day at work. Looooooooong day. But I'm keeping busy. I decided that after a semester of employment, I will finally make my desk mine and arrange stuff the way I like it. They can't kick me out now.
Highlights of my weekend:
* Playing with the only person I'd ever want to live with in Chez Crowley, the one, the only, Maria White. I don't get to see her nearly enough, but she is one of my dearest friends. I can (and do) tell her everything.
* Kicking Abby's butt at Hoops. Hahahahahaha. And we got to the second level of Contra.
* Cooking up a storm and cleaning the oven. You can't even tell a pie exploded in there in August.
* Sewing fun with Joanna Carter. Jon has some really nice pants.
* Seeing "Unccy Paul" Wilson
* Watching the Nancy Drew movie on ABC last night. I endorse it, even though Bess is tall, skinny and blond in the movie. In the books, she's short, plump and blond. But Nancy FINALLY gets tired of stupid Ned. I've been waiting for that all semester. But who's that other guy? He wasn't ever in the books. Nor was the girl from Cuba, but that's because Nancy is racist in the books.
* Going to Kate Jeffrie's fab party. It was so classy and everything that a grown-up party should be. She looked like Julia Stiles. I am so glad she lets me be her friend.
* Seeing Melissa Maynard. She's giving Nanie a run for her money for "The Cutest Girl I Have Ever Known."
* Getting a big hug from Julie Thursday night. I miss her.
I've had a few revelations in the past few days. Justin and I are like puzzle pieces for many reasons AND I know exactly why Britney and Justin broke up. Listen to his CD 80 times and you will, too. I will tell you all of these mysteries and much, much more, if you ask nicely.
Abby and I decided we should teach a class about Britney and Justin. I would also be able to teach a class about the Jackson 5 and *NSYNC. I would not charge tuition, even if you were from out-of-state. Registration starts now.
I am more than a little stressed out. Philosophy of War and Peace can take a flying leap for all I care. I will be studying until my eyes fall out.
But not really. I feel kind of irresponsible because I keep inviting friends over and going to other people's houses. I need to buckle down.
And buckle up. It's the law.
I also have to finish my detective fiction for Girl Sleuths and I'm afraid I haven't gotten very far in it yet. I just don't have the will for finals week.
So I just glanced at Osama bin Laden's "Letter to America" and I think he didn't really write it because I don't think Osama would use three exclamation points in a row.
Instead of studying today, I:
* took a nap
* went to Schnuck's
* had a pizza party
* cleaned the oven
* made Body Basics t-shirts with iron-ons
Well, actually, I guess I didn't avoid it all that much because my media planning group and I were finishing our presentation stuff for Tuesday. But still.
Oh yeah, and Abby and I played Blades of Steel on Nintendo. She barely kicked my butt. She's going down.
The trash compactor at Mark Twain is called the "Cram-O-Matic." No joke. It's right on the side of the machine.
I have some hardcore crafting to do tonight through next week, as well as some hardcore detective writing and philsophy studying. I'm thinking crafting is going to get the priority here. I need to get some stuff done before tomorrow night's News Bureau staff party and start some little projects.
I hope it snows.
It's SO WEIRD to hear John Conroy on the Q106.1 radio show. Every time I hear his voice I remember how he really really really wanted a Rascal to ride around campus.
I'm wearing my snowflake necklace today. Call me Suzy.
The philosophy paper is finished! And it's not as bad as I thought it was last night (probably because I fixed it a lot tonight).
Justin is super because he took me to dinner after I was crabby at him. Not
to him, just in his general direction.
It's time for the (as of this minute) Annual Musical Showdown! Da da da daaaaa! Here's how it works. I listen to the recording of a musical and I tell everyone what the musical is about. I'm not really into the classic
classic musicals like
My Fair Lady or anything like that because that stuff kinda sucks.
For example: Today's lesson is
L'il Abner THE BEST MUSICAL IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD. And don't fight with me or I'll be takin' that rag offin' the bush.
L'il Abner was my very first musical in high school. I was Assistant Right Stage (motto: They put all the retards on right). It was the best show ever. My dad built a house that shook with domestic disturbance and a ramp so we could drive a golf cart onto the stage from the audience. I also had my first major injury during that show - it was dress rehearsal so all the tech Es were in black (I was wearing my long sleeved t-shirt from the first show - and my first role - that year,
The Uninvited). I ran into some plywood sticking out of the wood pile and my left arm had a huge gash in it. It swelled up and bled everywhere, and the girl that was right stage (she could put a golf tee through a hole in one of her ears) wouldn't let me get a band-aid. After the rehearsal, I went to find a first-aid kid (of course we didn't have one) and a hot senior boy felt bad for me.
Anyway.
L'il Abner. It's about that cartoon hero from Dogpatch, USA, Abner Yokum. Abner's the stupidest person in the world. He's being chased by Daisy Mae Scragg, the girl with the shortest shorts in town (where the term Daisy Duke probably originated). Well, his mom, Mammy Yokum, has this big tree in their frontyard. It grows yokumberries. (Hence the line: "I whomps 'em from my yokumberry tree.) Abner's been drinking yokumnberry juice since forever. He's a big hunky fella, and it turns out that the yokumberry juice is what does it. A government man comes and tells Dogpatch that they are the most worthless place in the world and will be the test site for a nuclear bomb, BUT the yokumberry tree saves the day and they take all these guys to Washington to test the yokumberry juice on them. In the meantime, General Bullmoose, a big wig in Washington, wants to have yokumberry juice for his own. So he has his assistant, Appassionata Von Climax, seduce Abner. But Abner's an idiot. Then comes the annual Sadie Hawkin's Day race, where the girls catch the boys they will marry. Abner finally says Daisy Mae can catch him. But oh no! Thanks to the help of Evil Eye Fleegle, Appassionata catches Abner. What ever will happen?
(Well, turns out the yokumberry juice doesn't work and Appassionata no longer wants Abner and "Hark! Something has fallen from our statue!" and it turns out that Dogpatch was the site of General Jubiliation T. Cornpone's final defeat. Dogpatch is saved and Daisy and Abner get hitched.)
Truly the best show EVER. My favorite song is the opening when they introduce all the characters. The show is actually available on VHS - Stubby Kaye (Nicely Nicely from
Guys and Dolls) is Marryin' Sam. I have it. Let's watch it. And if you think you won't like it, remember: there's a whole lotta people wearing a whole lotta no clothes.
Major props to Justin for finding this CD for me in New York this summer. I think it was last released on vinyl in the 40s or something.
Tomorrow: AAAANNNNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIE get your gun get your gun get your gun.
I read three books this week.
Hotel Kid was pretty good - an autobiography about this kid's life as he grew up in New York's best hotel during the Depression. I think my mom would really like it.
Rachel's Holiday, by Marian Keyes, is the semi-sequel to her
Watermelon and really great. There was one little tear in the corner of my eye as I finished it, I was so happy.
Girl's Poker Night by Jill A. Davis was awesome - I read it part of last night and this morning. I'm now reading
Last Chance Saloon, also by Marian Keyes - I'm trying to read all of her books at once, actually.
Angels is next. It's been a good reading week.
The media plan is done. It's PDF'd. Tomorrow it goes to printing services. I wash my hands of it.
I really need to start that stupid philosophy paper.
Justin and I decided my three favorite categories of things are:
1. Dogs
2. Yarn
3. Books
Those are the things that I spend my money on (well, not really dogs, but I would if I could. And not so much books because I go to the library twice a week. And not so much yarn because I have to pay things like rent and utilities. But you know what I mean.). Those are the things I always want, can't get enough of.
My neighbor Mr. Woodward got me in the holiday spirit tonight - for once, I feel festive and a little excited about the holidays. It's kind of cool - my last few winters have been very...just bad. This is going to be a good one. As long as I don't run out of Prozac.
Penny called me today. She was bad and wanted someone to talk to, I guess.
Did you know...?
I am the boss of Justin.
My mom is the boss of Justin.
But my mom is not the boss of me. She used to be, in what she calls "The Good Old Days." In fact, she's the boss of everyone BUT me. Hence her name, BOE (Boss of Everyone).
It seems like Justin isn't the boss of anyone. Sorry, Justin.
For Christmas, my mom wants the "Wise Guy" named "Casper" for her nativity scene. "He's got the gold," she says. If I were her, I'd bet on getting another barnyard animal. Or another baby Jesus. You just can't have too many of those.
This is the never-ending media plan. It's all, hey, how 'bout we add another three pages because I know you don't have a philosophy paper to work on called "Hell no! I won't go!". And I'm all, I want to kill you.
I'm so close that it hurts. As in, I'm in a lot of pain right now. I better eat some Jell-O. (Three layered Jell-O. I'm a culinary goddess.)
If anyone has Acrobat Distiller, let me know. I'm afraid the j-school software won't work.
I totally just added comments to my blog. On the first try, even. (Well, technically, I tried a few months ago and it didn't work and I got really mad so just forgot about it.)
I'm currently on phone duty at work and nobody is calling (everyone else is in a staff meeting). Sad. But when people
do call, I get really confused because they call asking if I want to go to a respiration therapy conference or something and I'm like, I think you need to call the hospital for that.
Did I ever mention that my mom thinks that saying "word" at the end of a sentence is equivalent to saying "amen"? I didn't? She also knows a lot about gangs and would be willing to share her vast knowledge of what it means to throw shoes over a phone line with you.
Walter Williams (the building, not the man) smells like week-old vomit. Or else they're hiding bodies in the walls. I vote for both.
I have had more exercise this morning than I care to ever have in my LIFE. Abby and I got up at 7 and did Darrin's Dance Grooves quietly so as to not wake Chrissy (we were successful). Darrin choreographs for Britney, Justin and the Boys and everyone favorite teen idol of yesteryear, Jordan Knight. We already "know" the Britney dance, so we tried to learn "Bye Bye Bye" for like the 50th time. We did pretty well. Afterwards, I hit the side of my foot on the kitchen table and fell to the ground, sqirming in pain. Abby laughed. She's getting a beating later.
Clare, you need to e-mail my mom. Her address is
mbuel@mchsi.com and I think you and she are going to be best friends. Everyone else e-mail my mom too because she would love it. It would make her day.
Oh yeah, the exercise. Then, after I spent a million years at the RAP office copying door decks for winter training, I decided to walk to Brady to drop something off at the Wellness Resource Center and then mail our heating bill. Then I decided to walk to the J-school to drop off el big paper. Then I walked to Mark Twain to work. That's a lot of walking. And Jen's office is so hot and I'm so hot from walking that I'm ready to talk my clothes off. I doubt that is Res. Life approved.
Just so everyone knows, my fish hates Iowa. HATES it. She barely moved while she was there. Now she's back to her wriggly little self. I think it's because her water almost froze in our kitchen.
I started my morning with a kiss from the puppy across the street. I was unlocking my car and she came bounding up the hill, tail all atwitter. We snuggled and kissed and she tried to get into my coat, but then I took her back to her yard so her mom wouldn't miss her. I love that dog.
Please don't ever, ever be fooled by the rocks that I got.
A comprehensive list of things I hate at this moment:
1. Pants.
It has been a pretty sad day in these parts - one of my bosses is leaving to work in Jeff City and I am going to miss her a whole bunch.
Mr. Hercules and Rocky Balboa. Who are they? (I know and so does my mom, but do you?)
Okay, so I have this thing I should probably tell my parents but I don't really want to call and tell them because even though I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU I don't really want to get a lecture. I've had enough lectures to last me a lifetime, thank you.
So here it goes.
I got stopped for speeding yesterday.
I was just about to get to Wapello (I know! Wapello! Nothing happens in Wapello! You're not still paying attention, are you?).
A very nice sheriff pulled me over.
Perhaps at another place, another time, we could have been friends.
So he asks me if I'm having a medical emergency and I said no and I asked if the speed limit was still 65 (because 10 minutes ago in Muscatine it sure as hell was - nobody wants to drive slowly in Muscatine). And he says no, it's 55. And I say I am really super sorry for going 15 miles over the speed limit.
And then I forgot what "registration" looks like and made an ass of myself trying to find it. But I did and he let me off with a warning - not really even a warning, just a "use that cruise control, okay?" (which is what I was doing in the first place that got me pulled over!) - and I felt guilty for 230 miles.
So I'm telling you this because the last time I got pulled over I didn't tell you for like, a year (even though I just got a warning then, too, probably because Colleen Rutten was in my car and was about to start crying), and I felt really bad. Like, super bad.
Needless to say, I drove the speed limit the entire rest of the way to Missouri and was passed by about 30 cars, 5 semis and a horse with a gimp leg.
So now we will never talk about this again. Thank you.
