Where have I been?

In places other than Austin. Which means my addiction to all things internet has been hit hard. I didn’t check my email for days. DAYS. This is a big deal for me, as I’m one of those people that assumes anything important will be communicated to me through email…rather than the more practical phone call.

Christmas time was good. I’ve noticed that with each passing year this holiday means less and less to me. I’m no longer religious, so going to church on Christmas Eve made me feel a bit uncomfortable. I’ll always sing the carols and remember how it felt to be a kid, but I guess I’m finally becoming an adult. Which makes me a little sad.

I just noticed that we’ve seen two Nutrisystem commercials in one commercial break. Is this a subtle hint to those who’ve eaten too much over the holidays?



It’s time I come clean about something. I’m in love with the caveman from the Geico commercials.

I’m not sure if Jared knows about this, but he shouldn’t worry. There’s no chance of me meeting this caveman, and even if I did I don’t think I’m his type.

There’s just something about his tone of voice, his constant frustration, his obvious intelligence that intrigues me. See this to understand what I mean.

Don’t worry, I’m still in love with the boyfriend. I wonder if he has any cavewoman crushes…


I should clarify that I am not the person who wears sweatpants to work. That would be someone who gets paid a lot more than me.

Got that, Casey?

Office Talk

While I love our office machines (I’ve gotten one or two to work by spouting nice words of encouragement), I think their main purpose in life is to jam in some way. With that, I present:

What I imagine our office machines and gadgets would say to us if they could talk:

The copy machine: “Imagine this: you’re resting in your nice cool area, saving energy and whatnot. It’s a peaceful day, one lacking in urgent work. Then, suddenly, some woman in sweatpants (sweatpants!)comes in needing a copy. She pokes you on the head, gives you a work order, and crosses her arms impatiently. While you’re warming up from your nap, she even has the gall to complain about how long she’s having to wait. You finally wake and complete the request. You don’t even get a ‘thanks’ as she rips the paper away from you. Welcome to my life. Say thanks next time, or I just might jam.”

The fax machine: “Listen people, pages down. I can’t tell you how many times the other fax machines and I laugh at you because you can’t read the sign and your faxes come out blank. You’re all idiots. I might as well jam.”

The shredder: “You again? Why do you make so many damn copies if all you’re gonna do is shove ’em down my throat? Oh and by the way, the next time you roll your eyes when my bag is full, you’re getting a jam.”

The three hole puncher: “Of course I’m giving you hanging chads–those little pieces of paper that frustrate you to no end. Have you seen how many paper holes I’ve got under here? Try cleaning me out a bit, graduate students! You obviously prefer me to the three hole punch feature on the copy machine. One would think you’d care more for me, the one who allows you to store your precious information in a notebook. The one who only wants to see you happy. Watch out, because I’m thinking of creative ways to jam.”

The toaster: “For The Love Of God Someone Clean Me Out Once In A While! I wish I could jam. That’d show ’em.”

Certain mailboxes: “Can’t…Hold…Any…More…Mail. Must…Be…Checked…Soon. Will…Jam…Fingers…Of…Workers.”

The computers: “Are we really at a place of work? Why aren’t we being used for anything other than blogs, email, and Minesweeper? When did I sink so low? Let’s jam a process. They should know better than to be on MySpace at work. Now they’re going to pay for it.”

Letting others do the work for me

You should read this. Because it’s better than anything I’ll ever write.

I’m tired and would rather be at home, sleeping the morning away. I realize that all I’m doing today is sitting around for 8 hours…and I’m getting paid for it. But there was something about that bed this morning. So nice.

Hello again

I haven’t written in a while. I was out of good internet contact during the weekend, and last night when I got home it was all I could do to stay awake long enough to find something on the Discovery channel to pass out to. (I’d had a bit to drink…)

I find that when my life is changing (or just plain happening), my urge to write about it subsides. Maybe I’m more of an introspective writer, one that feels the need to explain what’s going on inside of me more than record what’s going on around me. Or maybe I just get lazy sometimes.

I want to rearrange my room, but I feel as if I should wait just a little longer. Doesn’t feng shui tell me that I shouldn’t have the foot of my bed facing the door? Well it is. And I’m tired a lot. Maybe that’s why…

Any tips?

By the by, Feng Shui is also a really good Gnarls Barkley song. Sorry for the lack of links, but I’m lazy.


I don’t consider myself to be a silly person most of the time. At least not the kind of silly that gets offended if people don’t notice I’ve done something different with myself. I usually just think, “Oh, I’m sure they’ve changed something at some point that I haven’t noticed, so I shouldn’t get angry at them so quickly.”

But damnit people. I cut my hair. Not just trimmed, cut. Three inches. And guess what! My hair’s much shorter in the front than it was yesterday! Can you guess why? Because I got bangs!! Admittedly not the five-year-old bangs of my youth, but angled bangs! Bangs that make me look cool! Goodness!

Ok, now that I’m over my tantrum, I can move on to something much more important. The miracle on Guadalupe St. It happened last night. It had seemed that the traffic lights and cars were against us all evening, and it didn’t look like the drive down Guadalupe was going to be any different. (FYI, in Austin we say “Guadaloop.” Some try to fight this, but they’ll never win.) We sat at a light around 15th street (this is my estimation…we weren’t paying that much attention), both hungry and ready to get to our destination. The light turned green. The next light turned green. We could see the lights turning green two, three intersections away, all in time to let us pass through. Around 6th we both started to believe. This was it. This was going to be it. We saw the light at Cesar Chavez turn as we were barely exiting the 3rd street intersection. I crossed my fingers and held my breath. Two more intersections and we would be on the bridge. Traffic had built up around us, threatening to ruin our perfect run. Through the 2nd street intersection, we were both thinking that the Cesar Chavez light would never stay green. Never.

But It Did!! And we made it!! A perfect run down Guadalupe!! It cut our traveling time in half. In half, people! The lights in Austin are notorious for being frustrating beyond belief, but for one magical night, we won. We hit EVERY GREEN LIGHT for 15 BLOCKS. Dreams can come true.