est. 1987

Archive for January, 2011


I have a confession to make.


I am, and have been, just a little bit obsessed with Conan O’Brian.



I look at that man like a dehydrated desert traveler looks at a bottle of water: with hunger, desperation, and the tiniest bit of lust. I’m fairly sure those three are too similar to disassemble but I find it pertinent to list all of them. My obsession probably isn’t all that glorifying to men, and men, I’m sorry. Women look at you like you’re meat, too. We’re even. My obsession focuses on…a lot of superficial things.


I do find him funny. He’s a very witty and charming and quite delightful. He’s got a fun laugh and a good voice.


It doesn’t hurt that he’s got legs that go on forever (wow; that’s something you usually attribute to chicks eh? Mark another one up for questionable sexuality!), and a beautiful smile.


HE’S THE TANNEST GINGER OF THEM ALL. When he smiles that beautiful smile of his it pops even more (and you know he’s in show business so it’s just a routine to bleach molars more than bones in the Arizona sun) against that tanned skin. Even though I’m positive that it’s stage makeup.


The way he wears a pair of dress pants is also…delightful. His pastel colored button downs. Again, ginger hair that looks like it’s quite soft. Tonight he wears lavender and he makes it look better than it does on my bedroom walls.


Excuse me while my mind goes crawling into the gutter.


Although the singer that’s on is shrill enough that I’m distracted from pining over Conan. Shut up, you wench. (I’m still trying to decide if she’s just old or she’s a 25 year old that has been under the tanning lamp too long.)


No. No wait, there’s CoCo on the screen, reminding me how incredibly tall he is.

[/ending this confession with a classy ‘tall drink of water in that there desert’ analogy]


A Special Message.

No, I will not use the Tumblr account I stupidly made. Why? IT’S STUPID AND I HAVE A WORDPRESS.

That some people, for some unknown reason, actually follow. 🙂



This is …pure Tomfoolery at its worst. I saw one of my friends on Twitter RTing this goofy thing about Virgo. I made a lewd joke, then went over to Sexstrology’s page to see what they had for #Cancer. Here’s a list of some of them that I found funny or true. Or not, if it involves lackluster quickies. No real entry today, folks. I slept and felt like crap for most of it. D:

Sometimes #Cancer comes of as a cold person. Just stick your hand in their pants to make’em hot. (Burst out laughing. Jeff would say that this is impossible as I have a blackhole for lady bits… Or something like that.)

#Cancer never forgets (Dumbo ain’ got nothing on me.)

Cooking is the #Cancer females way of nurturing, so expect a lot of home-cooked meals when courting her. (Or not…)

Dating a #Cancer female? Give her babies or let her treat you like one. It’s all the same to her. (Goo-goo-ga-ga, I want your romance?)

#Cancer‘s hugs are world class and Cancer’s snuggles are second to none (You better freaking believe it.)

#Cancer signs tend to be night-owls. (Lately, yes…)

A #Cancer in a good mood is outright flirtatious. A moody Cancer is shy. Pay attention to that when you’re trying to hook-up. (Touchy-feely.)

#Cancer seems to have 2 personalities. One is very outgoing, funny and quirky. The other is shy, moody and antisocial. (That one hits home yeah.. >>)

#Cancer woman love being protected by a strong male
#Cancer show you love, then in the next minute, be cold and detached for whatever reason. Jeesh. (Jeesh. Sorry.)

I Solemnly Swear

You can finish the rest. Happy 2011 and all that hooplah darlings. Nursing your hangovers and that extra 5-10lbs you gained over the season? That’s good, that’s good.

As for me my first day of 2011 has just begun and I do not have a hangover. I actually only had 2 beers, impressive considering I drink more during the casual card game these days. I finished off the year quietly, playing my new Super Mario Bros on my DS. Good game. Lots of cursing on my part. In fact, I missed the ball dropping (which I believe is symbolic for puberty or something, proving that if America was a person it’d be a male, or a confused woman). Am I disappointed? No. I can’t help but feel a certain amount of depression when I hear Dick Clark speak now. So I don’t watch.

The crowds of party-goers would have had a particular pang for me anyway this year. As you know – from the pen name of this blog – I recently graduated. Recently. It’s nearly been a year. I’m a social person. Or, moreso, I was a social person. In college your friends (at least the ones you make down there) are close at hand. You do stupid things, at any time, on any day. Even when you shouldn’t be. You come home and those friends that you’ve had for the past 4 years are all so far away. The ones you had before college are estranged because you went away for the majority of the time for 4 years.

In short, you’re left with a dilemma of wondering if you’ll ever have a social life again. Right now I’m torn. I wish to go to Hanover and be with the friends I have there that didn’t graduate yet. I wish my friends that HAVE (and thus spread to the four corners of the universe) would be there, too. On the other hand I wish to re-establish and strengthen those friendships I had before I tottered off to college as was expected of me. Believe it or not, and… It’s probably very hard to believe to a few in particular, I miss them. I miss them very very much and found it difficult not contact them coming up on the New Year to hang out.

…it’s hard to worm your way back in to people’s lives when they’ve had 4 years’ time to socialize more and make new friends, new friends that don’t know you and that, well, yes. Hm.

On that depressing binge of blog update, I’ll get to the point. I recently posted in status updates that I was going to be more social this year, and I want to stick by that. I want to see my friends. So… all of you should move to Ft Wayne. I have a basement. I can share my bed. I do have 3 cats but only one is a naggy bitch. The other two are sweethearts that will beg for food, drink, and cuddles. We have a penchant for watching BBC America, so yes, Direct TV. The bathroom is kinda small but I trust all you guys. ❤

All kidding aside, I do want to be more social. I may not need a boyfriend but I need my friends, or I’m a miserable hermit that only snarks and spites everything. SAVE ME FROM MYSELF THIS YEAR.