Sunday, November 30, 2003
Thursday, November 27, 2003
Ah, Thanksgivies. Lets see...
Turkey, check.
Parents shouting at each other and various pets running through home, check.
Whole family gathered around television last night watching C.S.I, check.
Dad off to 5k Turkey Fun Run at 5 am noisily, check.
Me in bed with massive fever, head cold, aches and pains, double check.
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
Stop snowing!
It is snowing. Snow is falling on the ground. Snow is covering the ground. Snow is freezing into sheets of killer ninja death ice on the surface of the roads. That ninja killer death ice is, I am sure, now simply laying in wait for me, waiting to try to toss my car around on the road like a doll in a washing machine as I drive up the canyon towards my Gran's place for Thanksgivies. How do I know this?
Because the weather does this to me every year. Every single Thanksgiving since I moved down to the city, I try to outsmart this crafty arch-nemesis named Nature (ten points for alliteration!) I try to leave Thanksgiving morning to beat the storm coming that afternoon. So it snows Thursday morning. In response, the next year, I try to leave the morning before thanksgiving. It snows on Tuesday night. If I waited to leave until exactly 43 minutes before the plates go down on the table and a certain aunt starts telling her stupid sloany stories that stupid weather would lay down stupid black ice and stupid avalanches on me 44 minutes before.
Stupid clever ninja death weather. Someday I'll invent a weather machine and then you'll be sorry.
It is snowing. Snow is falling on the ground. Snow is covering the ground. Snow is freezing into sheets of killer ninja death ice on the surface of the roads. That ninja killer death ice is, I am sure, now simply laying in wait for me, waiting to try to toss my car around on the road like a doll in a washing machine as I drive up the canyon towards my Gran's place for Thanksgivies. How do I know this?
Because the weather does this to me every year. Every single Thanksgiving since I moved down to the city, I try to outsmart this crafty arch-nemesis named Nature (ten points for alliteration!) I try to leave Thanksgiving morning to beat the storm coming that afternoon. So it snows Thursday morning. In response, the next year, I try to leave the morning before thanksgiving. It snows on Tuesday night. If I waited to leave until exactly 43 minutes before the plates go down on the table and a certain aunt starts telling her stupid sloany stories that stupid weather would lay down stupid black ice and stupid avalanches on me 44 minutes before.
Stupid clever ninja death weather. Someday I'll invent a weather machine and then you'll be sorry.
Sunday, November 23, 2003
Ladies and gentlemen, I present the "What Would Buffy Do?" necklace. I will not be buying one. Even I am not that much of a Buffy fanatic. However, anyone who does in fact purchase and wear this necklace can send a picture via lasserole@yahoo.com to receive a prize! However, please note that this prize is most likely to be a post-it note that says "Nerdy VonNerdison."
Speaking of buying stupid things, Christmas is coming! I haven't even started my Christmas shopping. See, I'm in a bit of trouble at the moment. I signed a lease for a new apartment, a cheaper, nicer, has-a-fireplace-and-no-utilities-to-pay apartment, thinking I could easily replace myself where I live now. All of my roommates have effortlessly sold their spots and are prepared to move on come December first, and I have yet to get a single call from someone interested. So if I have to pay rent on two separate apartments for the month of December, y'all just might be getting origami swans made out of napkins. Napkins I stole.
Do you want to rent my room? Please?
Thursday, November 20, 2003
You are the Low-Fidelity All-Star. You were born
with your cool, and it's totally natural. You
run the gamut from Hipster Supreme (only they
can ingest as much coffee as you) to the geeky
hipster (Mario Kart, anyone?).
What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Its 21 and Older Party Fun Time! If y'all need me, you know where to look. I'm off to find the perfect pair of sexy white heels.
When I was a kid I luuuurved the Boxcar Children series. Remember? The books about the orphans who run away from home to avoid being sent to the orphanage and live in a boxcar in the woods? Damn was that ever the stuff of my dreams! But can you blame me for this escapist fantasy? I mean, imagine it. You don't have enough money to cover your rent this month. You hate your job and none of your friends are there for you. And your boyfriend? Ha ha! What boyfriend? The solution isn't to stick it out, to be an adult. The solution is simple...run away! Here is how it is done. You are of course, noble, clever, but unappreciated. While everyone is out living their fabulous lives, you take a checkered cloth and fill it with the following:
One chunk of bread. French, not Wonder. Pre-sliced slices are not as dramatic as chunks.
One chunk of cheese. You may be an orphan, but you still need calcium!
One wooden or tin cup. For scooping fresh clean water from a stream. Bacteria is a problem. I recommend finding the mountain spring mentioned on that Evian bottle.
Only memento of happy times past. Can be a photo, locket, or photo within locket. Must contain picture of long-lost family member or true love. No dogs or celebrities cut from glossy magazine.
After all, clever runaways know that these are the only things you really need! Next, knot corners of cloth bundle together and head off bravely into the night in search of your destiny. Chances are you'll come across either a peaceful abandoned cabin in the woods to make your own, a wealthy loving relative, or a job in a cozy small town store, either a bookstore or bakery, where the owners offer you room and board and treat you like the child they never had. Hell, maybe you'll end up with all three! Start your running away now!
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Oh, friends, last night was a great night in the history of my exercise history. Existory? Exisistory? I jogged, high impact, fat-burning, hurts like a bag of hammers jogging. Fast jogging, none of the slow wobbly stuff. Not only did I jog my little heart out, I jogged my heart out for ONE AND A HALF HOURS. One and a half hours! Of pure joggosity! I know you're asking yourselves, how did Lobsterita accomplish this amazing feat of cardio? It's a little show, my friends, called Rich Girls.
In a nutshell, its a show about two very wealthy girls, one of whom is the daughter of Tommy Hilfiger, who skip around New York City spending loads and loads of money being fabulous so I don't have to. How can I not love this show? I mean, check out this summary of a scene from a recent episode:
"As the girls sit by the pool and discuss how fortunate they are, they question whether or not they deserve this privileged life. Ally and Jaime finally conclude that in their past lives they did something amazing, and are now privileged due to those past lives. Ally decides she was a tree, and Jaime ponders whether she could have been Benjamin Franklin."
Genius! What else can keep me so glued to a moniter so's I don't notice I'm trotting frantically around on a treadmill? Nothing, thats what! Rich Girls forever!
Monday, November 17, 2003
A Thought
I think the movie Pleasantville is an excellent metaphor for life in Utah. Like how we are. Here. In Utah. I'm just dragging this out for fun.
I think the movie Pleasantville is an excellent metaphor for life in Utah. Like how we are. Here. In Utah. I'm just dragging this out for fun.
I Am Not Responsible
Blame it on watching Reality Bites too many times as a teen. Blame it on my obviously immature personality or on the fact I like cartoons too much but seriously, I am not a responsible adult. I am an adult. I can gas up my car and get myself to appointments on time and come up with a really witty joke and balance my checkbook (kinda) but I'm not what you would call responsible. I am the kind of adult who is trying to redefine the concept of being an adult. See, the concept of having everything put together by the time you graduate from college tends to come from a little farther back than our generation. It goes back a-ways. It goes back to a time when our life spans were shorter, our options were fewer, and we as women in particular had nowhere else to go but into a wedding dress. So here I am, 21 in Utah, and with no particular desire to get anything right yet. Consider it my personal Gen-X Wannabe Syndrome. For example, there is a wedding reception scheduled to be held in my home this Saturday, for someone I don't know and don't care about. I am sure her fiancee is ugly and boring. I will not be attending this reception for the ugly and boring. Why? Because I want to rebel, man! I'm hip and young and I'd rather be out running around like a crazy person! I have no desire to stand around in a room full of other young people chatting pleasantly about how soon they'll start having children or whether we like the wedding ring as much as the last newlywed's. I have no desire to own my own home, as the radio ads constantly urge me to do, because I have a hard time staying in one place for more than three months. I move every fourth month. Why? Because I am a slacker. I get bored. Because I'm impulsive and curious and loudmouthed and wacky that way. I like it. I like being crazy and fun. Married people, people who work three jobs to afford their stylish new cars and people slaving over their Masters in History or English or Teaching so they can be started on...whatever it is they do by 23 and keep doing that job somewhere with tenure until they're 60 and can relax and retire are not the kind of people I can understand. Trying to accept that way of life is like trying to believe that a bunch of sitcom characters making minimum wage could really afford massive loft apartments in New York. We live in a world where you can reinvent yourself at basically any age you want, in any location you want. We can chase any dream and achieve it on some level. Why would I want to give up on all that opportunity by deciding I have to have everything now? Isn't that a little narrow-minded of me? If I had decided that a year ago, how much would I have missed out on that I have now? If I decide that now, how much will I miss in a year? Five? Ten? I'd rather figure things out as I go, instead of trying to pretend I have all the answers now. Its much more fun that way. Maybe I have some slackeristic vision. Maybe I'm just easily distracted. I don't care, its fun. At least I'm not boring.
Blame it on watching Reality Bites too many times as a teen. Blame it on my obviously immature personality or on the fact I like cartoons too much but seriously, I am not a responsible adult. I am an adult. I can gas up my car and get myself to appointments on time and come up with a really witty joke and balance my checkbook (kinda) but I'm not what you would call responsible. I am the kind of adult who is trying to redefine the concept of being an adult. See, the concept of having everything put together by the time you graduate from college tends to come from a little farther back than our generation. It goes back a-ways. It goes back to a time when our life spans were shorter, our options were fewer, and we as women in particular had nowhere else to go but into a wedding dress. So here I am, 21 in Utah, and with no particular desire to get anything right yet. Consider it my personal Gen-X Wannabe Syndrome. For example, there is a wedding reception scheduled to be held in my home this Saturday, for someone I don't know and don't care about. I am sure her fiancee is ugly and boring. I will not be attending this reception for the ugly and boring. Why? Because I want to rebel, man! I'm hip and young and I'd rather be out running around like a crazy person! I have no desire to stand around in a room full of other young people chatting pleasantly about how soon they'll start having children or whether we like the wedding ring as much as the last newlywed's. I have no desire to own my own home, as the radio ads constantly urge me to do, because I have a hard time staying in one place for more than three months. I move every fourth month. Why? Because I am a slacker. I get bored. Because I'm impulsive and curious and loudmouthed and wacky that way. I like it. I like being crazy and fun. Married people, people who work three jobs to afford their stylish new cars and people slaving over their Masters in History or English or Teaching so they can be started on...whatever it is they do by 23 and keep doing that job somewhere with tenure until they're 60 and can relax and retire are not the kind of people I can understand. Trying to accept that way of life is like trying to believe that a bunch of sitcom characters making minimum wage could really afford massive loft apartments in New York. We live in a world where you can reinvent yourself at basically any age you want, in any location you want. We can chase any dream and achieve it on some level. Why would I want to give up on all that opportunity by deciding I have to have everything now? Isn't that a little narrow-minded of me? If I had decided that a year ago, how much would I have missed out on that I have now? If I decide that now, how much will I miss in a year? Five? Ten? I'd rather figure things out as I go, instead of trying to pretend I have all the answers now. Its much more fun that way. Maybe I have some slackeristic vision. Maybe I'm just easily distracted. I don't care, its fun. At least I'm not boring.
Sunday, November 16, 2003
Thursday, November 13, 2003
Your best Match is Oliver!
Which Harry Potter Guy are you Most Compatible with?
brought to you by Quizilla
Dear Everyone,
Holy crap, I have photo albums!
This one is my Halloween photo album.
This one is my everything else photo album.
Thanks,
That One Lobsterita
Holy crap, I have photo albums!
This one is my Halloween photo album.
This one is my everything else photo album.
Thanks,
That One Lobsterita
Monday, November 10, 2003
I Want to be a Hippy Again
I was a tree-hugger once. Yes, I was. I remember it fondly. When my family moved from Salt Lake to Heber and I started high school, I was seriously hurting for a sense of identity. I'd gone through grade and middle school just sort of falling into the nerd category. It wasn't a persecuted, stuffed into lockers nerdhood. It was actually quite comfy, like a goofy looking quilt. I just liked reading the Chronicles of Narnia over and over again more than hanging out with actual people. I had other little nerdly friends. I had met them in libraries, I had buddies to watch sci-fi movies with on the weekends. Starting high school in a small town where most of the kids had known each other for years, I was on my own. Luckily for me my school had a thriving little art community full of punks, hippies, artists in general. Meeting people who cut their own hair in the school bathroom, and walked around barefoot and braless in a school where most kids would rather die than be seen with their tek-vest all wrinkly was, to risk sounding melodramatic, a life-changing experience. I never realized you could do whatever you wanted. It never occurred to me that I could wear crazy granny dresses and sketch self portraits during math class. It never occurred to me that instead of sitting home with my family and watching television on weeknights, I could drive to Salt Lake and listen to underground punk bands at Kilby Court. I had this vision in my head of the perfect life. I wouldn't go to college. I was going to live in a motorhome and travel around the country selling jewelry and pottery for a living. I was going to meditate and do yoga daily and not own a television. I was going to be a vegetarian, even though I did and still do hate vegetables. I was going to raise llamas and weave blankets and play songs on my guitar and never wear makeup.
Of course, now I'm a pop-culture loving meat-eater fashionista actress. Go figure. At least I got to play frisbee every day at lunch instead of comparing tek-vests with the other lame blonde girls. Being a free spirit is great. I never got over that. Or the love of doing things I'm not supposed to do. Revolution!
I was a tree-hugger once. Yes, I was. I remember it fondly. When my family moved from Salt Lake to Heber and I started high school, I was seriously hurting for a sense of identity. I'd gone through grade and middle school just sort of falling into the nerd category. It wasn't a persecuted, stuffed into lockers nerdhood. It was actually quite comfy, like a goofy looking quilt. I just liked reading the Chronicles of Narnia over and over again more than hanging out with actual people. I had other little nerdly friends. I had met them in libraries, I had buddies to watch sci-fi movies with on the weekends. Starting high school in a small town where most of the kids had known each other for years, I was on my own. Luckily for me my school had a thriving little art community full of punks, hippies, artists in general. Meeting people who cut their own hair in the school bathroom, and walked around barefoot and braless in a school where most kids would rather die than be seen with their tek-vest all wrinkly was, to risk sounding melodramatic, a life-changing experience. I never realized you could do whatever you wanted. It never occurred to me that I could wear crazy granny dresses and sketch self portraits during math class. It never occurred to me that instead of sitting home with my family and watching television on weeknights, I could drive to Salt Lake and listen to underground punk bands at Kilby Court. I had this vision in my head of the perfect life. I wouldn't go to college. I was going to live in a motorhome and travel around the country selling jewelry and pottery for a living. I was going to meditate and do yoga daily and not own a television. I was going to be a vegetarian, even though I did and still do hate vegetables. I was going to raise llamas and weave blankets and play songs on my guitar and never wear makeup.
Of course, now I'm a pop-culture loving meat-eater fashionista actress. Go figure. At least I got to play frisbee every day at lunch instead of comparing tek-vests with the other lame blonde girls. Being a free spirit is great. I never got over that. Or the love of doing things I'm not supposed to do. Revolution!
Friday, November 07, 2003
The Tao of Angie
I went home for the day yesterday and hung out with my little sister and our several assorted million cats and dogs. Sez Angie:
"Oh, man, never take a ham sandwich from a fat kid. Because he will chase you for-EVER."
My sister is wise.
I went home for the day yesterday and hung out with my little sister and our several assorted million cats and dogs. Sez Angie:
"Oh, man, never take a ham sandwich from a fat kid. Because he will chase you for-EVER."
My sister is wise.
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
A Few of my Favorite Things, An Ode
I love brown paper bags! I love the way they crinkle when you carry them to your car from the store! I love sleeping with a cat curled up on the bed next to me! I love eating candy for meals instead of nutritional food and diet cherry coke! I love watching the same cool movies over and over! I love British things! I love being up to see the sun rise, even though I only manage to do it by staying up all night goofing off and never by actually getting up early! I love figuring out whodunnit it in murder mysteries before the book actually tells you! I love chinese food and getting things for free! I love a big shelf of books and not having to go outside when its snowing! I love having somewhere to be every Saturday and spending weeknights doing fun social things instead of watching old simpsons reruns! I also love old simpsons reruns! Also, I love exclamation points! !!!
I love brown paper bags! I love the way they crinkle when you carry them to your car from the store! I love sleeping with a cat curled up on the bed next to me! I love eating candy for meals instead of nutritional food and diet cherry coke! I love watching the same cool movies over and over! I love British things! I love being up to see the sun rise, even though I only manage to do it by staying up all night goofing off and never by actually getting up early! I love figuring out whodunnit it in murder mysteries before the book actually tells you! I love chinese food and getting things for free! I love a big shelf of books and not having to go outside when its snowing! I love having somewhere to be every Saturday and spending weeknights doing fun social things instead of watching old simpsons reruns! I also love old simpsons reruns! Also, I love exclamation points! !!!
I'm the Same the World Over!
Member of: Arty crowd
Gets along with: Popular crowd, Normal crowd
Doesn't like: Townies
You love either Music Drama or Art! You might not
do so well at Maths or languages though. If
you're a boy you're probably the only one in
your gang.
Who are you from a BRITISH High school?
brought to you by Quizilla
Member of: Arty crowd
Gets along with: Popular crowd, Normal crowd
Doesn't like: Townies
You love either Music Drama or Art! You might not
do so well at Maths or languages though. If
you're a boy you're probably the only one in
your gang.
Who are you from a BRITISH High school?
brought to you by Quizilla
Monday, November 03, 2003
I Want Ross's Cat!
Shminny says:
your kitten sounds so damn cute
Ross says:
he is! he is!
Shminny says:
I want him!
Ross says:
noooo!
Shminny says:
if I lived in North Carolina I would just hang out at your house all the time.
Ross says:
that would be totally acceptable
Shminny says:
I would lie to you and tell you I was there because you were so awesome, but really it would be because your cat is awesome
Shminny says:
mua ha ha ha
Ross says:
hehehe
Ross says:
I would know...
Shminny says:
your kitten sounds so damn cute
Ross says:
he is! he is!
Shminny says:
I want him!
Ross says:
noooo!
Shminny says:
if I lived in North Carolina I would just hang out at your house all the time.
Ross says:
that would be totally acceptable
Shminny says:
I would lie to you and tell you I was there because you were so awesome, but really it would be because your cat is awesome
Shminny says:
mua ha ha ha
Ross says:
hehehe
Ross says:
I would know...
Sunday, November 02, 2003
An Ode to Thrift
No, not the virtue, stupids! I refer of course to the great and noble act of Thriftin'. Thrifting is the most awesome thing ever. Where is the most awesome place to be doing this thrift shopping in Salt Lake City? Why, Grunts and Postures of course! I know, I know, I've blah blah blahed my love of this store to death but this my blog so screw all y'all. I'm not anti-shopping-mall per se, but when I do go to Crossroads or Fashion Place or Gateway, I tend to just see a million different versions of the same styles. Which, if you have something specific in mind, and it isn't "in" for Fall, can be a bit of a problem. Enter the thrift store. Seriously. I have found beautiful sweaters at 1/4 of what you would pay IF they had them to sell in 5-7-9 or Wet Seal or wherever. Plus you get the added bonus of knowing that its very unlikely you'll show up to some cool party in your cool new digs and end up in a room where five other people are wearing the exact same cool new digs. Because don't you feel like a shmuck when that happens? Of course you do. So go to Grunts and Postures. Because not only do they have the coolest vintage stuff around, they also sell kooky wooden statues and jewelry and zany plastic toys. Plus if you've been going there for seven years (guess who) the nice hip lady who runs the place will remember you and its like you have a hip friend to go with all your new hip clothes. That no one else has.
Go now!!!
No, not the virtue, stupids! I refer of course to the great and noble act of Thriftin'. Thrifting is the most awesome thing ever. Where is the most awesome place to be doing this thrift shopping in Salt Lake City? Why, Grunts and Postures of course! I know, I know, I've blah blah blahed my love of this store to death but this my blog so screw all y'all. I'm not anti-shopping-mall per se, but when I do go to Crossroads or Fashion Place or Gateway, I tend to just see a million different versions of the same styles. Which, if you have something specific in mind, and it isn't "in" for Fall, can be a bit of a problem. Enter the thrift store. Seriously. I have found beautiful sweaters at 1/4 of what you would pay IF they had them to sell in 5-7-9 or Wet Seal or wherever. Plus you get the added bonus of knowing that its very unlikely you'll show up to some cool party in your cool new digs and end up in a room where five other people are wearing the exact same cool new digs. Because don't you feel like a shmuck when that happens? Of course you do. So go to Grunts and Postures. Because not only do they have the coolest vintage stuff around, they also sell kooky wooden statues and jewelry and zany plastic toys. Plus if you've been going there for seven years (guess who) the nice hip lady who runs the place will remember you and its like you have a hip friend to go with all your new hip clothes. That no one else has.
Go now!!!
Saturday, November 01, 2003
Halloween in a Nutshell:
I watched The Shining and only covered my eyes once. The trick or treaters took every last scrap of our candy, damn them, so none for breakfast today. Did a Quick Wits show which involved me carving a fantastically freezing pumpkin. Apparently it had been sitting outside all day in the snow, so imagine refrigerated pumpkin slime and feel my pain. :) Best costumes included a man dressed as a ballerina, a little girl dressed as Mulan, my roommates dressed as a geisha and a librarian, and the pink plastic flamingos on my lawn which I dressed as an army man and a housewife. Yes I did. No, I'm not taking it off yet.
I will have costumey pictures up on this blog soon. Promise much.
I watched The Shining and only covered my eyes once. The trick or treaters took every last scrap of our candy, damn them, so none for breakfast today. Did a Quick Wits show which involved me carving a fantastically freezing pumpkin. Apparently it had been sitting outside all day in the snow, so imagine refrigerated pumpkin slime and feel my pain. :) Best costumes included a man dressed as a ballerina, a little girl dressed as Mulan, my roommates dressed as a geisha and a librarian, and the pink plastic flamingos on my lawn which I dressed as an army man and a housewife. Yes I did. No, I'm not taking it off yet.
I will have costumey pictures up on this blog soon. Promise much.
