And on a lighter note...

Saturday night bore a hilariously drunken exchange with Joey that involved several phone calls while he trecked across Williamsburg on a much deserved drunken evening. To give you a brief synopsis, it involved knocking on a stranger's door to get a beer, method man, his roomate, and a burrito, to name a few things.

Anyhow, Joey really wanted to call my mom, but seeing as how it was past 3am, I didn't think that was the best idea. He decided he was gonna email her. Somehow between hanging up the phone with me and passing out, that turned into emailing Jon Forde, our favorite heroic friend doing his national guard duty in the middle east. Here's how that email went:

gdariusjr: IM ACTUALLY CHUGGING WRITE NOW
I was about to pass out and I found a half drank beer on my floor, oh god damn this is hard to type cause I am so fucking drunk
But r9ight this second, with no break to correct errors, I will chug a full beer I found, because I know it is what youwuold want…….cough*……you would want…….so here it goes. Joey is chugging right now
thk I am gonna puke, and I am being honest, oh my fucking god, that was so raw. So I hope this email is better than the others you receive. The ones like, hello joooooooooooonaaaaaaaaathan. I just want you to know that when you see me again you will have to facet he rath of many shots
Oh god, I didn’t finish the can, here it goes…………………………..ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhgoooooooooood………..coughcoughdcough, that is all real, I am typing this as it happens, I just chugged the beer oh shit fuck im drunk. Okay I have to go now, this email rules.
this email rules.

A word to the Guise

A little theory has been budding for a while now and I thought that, for the sake of men and women alike, I'd share it with all you male blogstretch readers.

Guys are constantly complaining that women are "crazy." Crazy is loosely defined as getting mad "for no reason," or being "overly emotional." I would like to let you know a very simple avenue to not pissing women off. It seems so logical to all my girlfriends I've discussed it with. If guys could simply process it, there would be - and this is a rough estimate - about 80% less drama or hard feelings.

Don't say you're going to do something you don't plan on doing.

Not gonna call? Just say "goodnight."

Don't actually want to go to that party tomorrow? Just say "thanks, but I've got other plans."

No intention of taking her out on that date? Just don't ask in the first place.

The thought of this approach scares the crap out of guys. I've been told "but we don't wanna hurt a girl's feelings, so we say what we know she wants to hear." You know what that's called? Lying. When you tell us those "things we want to hear," you're setting up an expectation. Not fulfilling that expectation, that's where you get into trouble. As much as we like for guys to ask for our numbers and things of that ilk, the reason we like that is because of what will follow. If it's an empty promise, it means absolutely nothing but a downgrade your status. Sure, we may be vaguely miffed by the lack of a request or an invitation, but knowing that there's no hope of future contact or activity leaves us nothing to wonder about. It's the "is he gonna call?"s that bunch us up into high strung bitchiness.

So, the moral of the story is, if you want to avoid conflict, realize that "I'll give you a call" isn't a polite way to end a conversation. In the mind of a woman, it is a promise, and not following through is breaking that promise. Just don't say things that you don't mean, and you'll avoid heaping spoonfulls of conflict.

There's the theory. Have at it.

Becky's signature to her comment as "BK" made me realize that she's missing the boat. Why waste her time in law school, when she could be working towards a fruitful career as a professional wrestler? Her name would, obviously ("BK" --> Burger King's BK Broiler -->) be "BK the Broiler."

I wonder....

I'm starting to ponder the dangers involved in keeping my chapstick (white base, pink tube) in the same little area of my desk as my glue stick (white base, pink tube). No incidents to report as of yet, but...this could lead down a very unpleasant road.

*Cough

I see to have come down with a touch of something. While Sam & Tyler are sure that it's SARS, and Becky thinks it's probably the Avian Flu, my money's on a head cold. Anyhow, general ooginess has lead to lack of rant-worthy creativity. Will come back soon with more pearls of "wisdom."

Later gators!

The Love Song of J. Alfred B/oulier

I'd have to place this in the top ten or higher of the Best Drunk Dials I've ever received. Love talkin slow jams have never spoken to me quite like this:

"Hi Amanda, this is a song that was dedicated to you by a certain caller in. We like to call this love songs and dedications. This song goes out to you from a very famous guy who calls the show a lot - Joseph B. The song is as follows:

Amanda Mattos with a hat on, and it keeps her hair back when she's feelin like she needs to go for a jog, or maybe she's needs to play pogs, or maybe she wants to take a job jo-o-o-o-g. Jogin in the rain, feelin like you have a brain, and I don't think that you're insaaaaaane. Ooo ooo ooo! Ooo ooo ooooooo! Three or four more "ooo ooo"s. This is a weird message at 4am. Oooo ooo!

Yeah."

Whoopsie daisy

So, I accidentally just posted my reactions to Bush's inaugural address on this blog instead of POA. The wrong has been rectified, but if you stumbled across it in the 10 seconds or so it was up, my bad. I try and keep this one as politically neutral as I can.

And now moving on....

My major involvement on the massive soul-sucking project I've been working on lately is over! Yessssss! It was definitely a case of people finding out I was good at something and giving me the worst possible application of my skills, in the longest possible format. But, it's done! Not that this has really stopped me from being socialstretch lately, can't nobody hold me down. We had our usual Thursday OC dinner party last night. Jenna, fresh from Costa Rica with quite a tan and tons of pictures, fixed up some delicious shrimp scampi. W'tastey. I believe Big White Mike tries his hand at cooking next week. I'll let you know how that turns out. After clean up, I went and met Drew out for his actual birthday (but not to buy him shots). I think I'm starting to get a grasp on what "spradlin" is (as a verb, not like, as an organism). I particularly enjoyed the "It's my birthday!" girl, the flower behind the ear club, the "i just wanna make out with you" girl, and Drew's declaration (in response to trying to plan lunch on Monday), "I don't care. I hate both of you." It was mug night at Whitlows, the cover band was Oasis-tastic, and there was spradlin' all over the place. It was a good time.

I hope the snow this weekend doesn't hinder things too much. I wanna get out to Georgetown and celebrate the births of Jack and Jill. Haha, didn't even notice that before I typed it. Jack and Jill went up to Garrett's, to fetch a pail of Miller. Jack came down and chugged his Crown, and Jill came stumbling after. I crack myself up.

Funny: I googled for a picture of Jack to put up here for his birthday, and found this - he and Jarman packing up their freshman year dorm room at Longwood. *Memories.



TGIF.

Because 2 blogs just aren't enough

Because Drew and I apparently aren't satisfied having busy full time jobs and social lives, we've decided to take on yet another blogging project. We're calling it eVesdropper, and it's a place to host all of those crazy things you overhear strangers saying as you make your way through the day. I foresee a pen and pad being added to my purse to jot down the things I hear girls saying in bar bathrooms. There's an email address that lets you submit your tidbits, which we'll post. We're not going the way of the auto-post, to avoid countless run ins with the internet fuckwad theory:

Site was just born moments ago, so content is a bit nonexistant at the moment. But, if you have suggestions for future additions or formatting issues or anything like that, let me know. And come and play with eVesdropper, it's gonna be a good time.

Forget France, Boycot SWEDEN

For those of you who aren't privy to my recent tribulations with the cheap furniture free for all that is Ikea, let me give you a brief run down. In lieu of procuring a truck of some sort and making the trek to either College Park or Potomac Mills, I ordered my bed from Ikea online for home delivery in early November, to arrive just in time for my late November move in date(note: aside from the grievances I'm about to layout, also be forewarned that home delivery from the internet costs about 4.5 times as much as home delivery if you go to the store and request it). I received confirmation emails, and replied to the ones it asked me to reply to. When 4 weeks had gone by and still no bed appeared at my door, I called to enquire.
Ikea Lady: "Oh, your order's been cancelled."
Me: "Oh really? That's interesting. By who?"
Ikea Lady: "By Ikea."
Me: "And why is that?"
Ikea Lady: "Because there wasn't confirmation to charge your credit card."
Me: "So when I hit confirm, submit, and replied in the affirmative to all of your emails, that wasn't confirmation?"
Ikea Lady: "Apparently not. Would you like us to reinstate your order?"
Me: "Absolutely not."

Flash forward to the Saturday before last, when I'd finally sorted through the mire of holiday exhaustion and found a few free hours in which I could wrangle both Sam and the blazer for a trip to College Park. After an ungodly frustrating couple of hours in that store with a layout that could only have been conceived by cyclopse with a really bad sense of humor, we finally got through checkout, got through the large furniture pick up line, and loaded our goods into the blazer and headed home. Psychological strife was, it seemed, worth it to finally be entirely moved into my house (it's been two months, I'm ready for removal of all cardboard boxes!).

But nay. Come this past Saturday, my mom and I had set aside the day to put the bed together and get things wrapped up in casa 3152. As I put the preliminary steps in motion and start opening up all of the boxes, I soon realized that the white washed Norwegian wood (save your Beatles jokes) bore nothing in common with the wire frame bed I had purchased. Yes, that's right, they gave me the wrong. freakin. bed.

Ups and downs with customer service agents at various levels of decision making endowment ensued. I was finally faced with the decision of whether to make another trip to that massive and pseudo-happy hell on earth, or pay $69 to have them come pick up the wrong one and bring me the right one. I went with the path of least resistance and am shelling out the 69 bucks for home delivery. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm seriously ticked off at Ikea in general and their appauling lack of customer care. They lack any drive whatsoever to actually help a customer through a situation that is the result of their own mistake. I suppose the argument would be made that you pay for what you get, and when procuring good through discount retailers, you can't expect top of the line customer satisfaction. However, it only makes good business sense to do all that is within your reasonable powers to rectify your mistakes and come away from transactions with a clean reputation in the eyes of your customers.

ANYHOW, that being said, I look forward to receiving my bed at a yet to be determined date in the near future, god willing. The moral of this story, if you couldn't tell, is if at all avoidable, do not shop at Ikea. And if you do, go in with all your wits about you and your self deffensive guns a'blazin, cause you're gonna need extra amo.


On an unrelated note, I'm having a nice day at work. We had a big brainstorming session and I helped come up with a really good resolution to a huge creative problem that we've been facing for a while. I'm reminded of the reasons I wanted to get into this line of work in the first place, and affirmation of your professional purpose never makes for a bad day at the office.

Happy Tuesday, one and all.

Forget France, Boycot SWEDEN

For those of you who aren't privy to my recent tribulations with the cheap furniture free for all that is Ikea, let me give you a brief run down. In lieu of procuring a truck of some sort and making the trek to either College Park or Potomac Mills, I ordered my bed from Ikea online for home delivery in early November, to arrive just in time for my late November move in date(note: aside from the grievances I'm about to layout, also be forewarned that home delivery from the internet costs about 4.5 times as much as home delivery if you go to the store and request it). I received confirmation emails, and replied to the ones it asked me to reply to. When 4 weeks had gone by and still no bed appeared at my door, I called to enquire.
Ikea Lady: "Oh, your order's been cancelled."
Me: "Oh really? That's interesting. By who?"
Ikea Lady: "By Ikea."
Me: "And why is that?"
Ikea Lady: "Because there wasn't confirmation to charge your credit card."
Me: "So when I hit confirm, submit, and replied in the affirmative to all of your emails, that wasn't confirmation?"
Ikea Lady: "Apparently not. Would you like us to reinstate your order?"
Me: "Absolutely not."

Flash forward to the Saturday before last, when I'd finally sorted through the mire of holiday exhaustion and found a few free hours in which I could wrangle both Sam and the blazer for a trip to College Park. After an ungodly frustrating couple of hours in that store with a layout that could only have been conceived by cyclopse with a really bad sense of humor, we finally got through checkout, got through the large furniture pick up line, and loaded our goods into the blazer and headed home. Psychological strife was, it seemed, worth it to finally be entirely moved into my house (it's been two months, I'm ready for removal of all cardboard boxes!).

But nay. Come this past Saturday, my mom and I had set aside the day to put the bed together and get things wrapped up in casa 3152. As I put the preliminary steps in motion and start opening up all of the boxes, I soon realized that the white washed Norwegian wood (save your Beatles jokes) bore nothing in common with the wire frame bed I had purchased. Yes, that's right, they gave me the wrong. freakin. bed.

Ups and downs with customer service agents at various levels of decision making endowment ensued. I was finally faced with the decision of whether to make another trip to that massive and pseudo-happy hell on earth, or pay $69 to have them come pick up the wrong one and bring me the right one. I went with the path of least resistance and am shelling out the 69 bucks for home delivery. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm seriously ticked off at Ikea in general and their appauling lack of customer care. They lack any drive whatsoever to actually help a customer through a situation that is the result of their own mistake. I suppose the argument would be made that you pay for what you get, and when procuring good through discount retailers, you can't expect top of the line customer satisfaction. However, it only makes good business sense to do all that is within your reasonable powers to rectify your mistakes and come away from transactions with a clean reputation in the eyes of your customers.

ANYHOW, that being said, I look forward to receiving my bed at a yet to be determined date in the near future, god willing. The moral of this story, if you couldn't tell, is if at all avoidable, do not shop at Ikea. And if you do, go in with all your wits about you and your self deffensive guns a'blazin, cause you're gonna need extra amo.


On an unrelated note, I'm having a nice day at work. We had a big brainstorming session and I helped come up with a really good resolution to a huge creative problem that we've been facing for a while. I'm reminded of the reasons I wanted to get into this line of work in the first place, and affirmation of your professional purpose never makes for a bad day at the office.

Happy Tuesday, one and all.

Looking Starward

So, I know the blog's been a bit horoscope-heavy lately, but this one (from MSN) is intriguing, so I thought I'd share:

When you are faced with a decision dear Virgo, you can say "yes," and commit yourself to something, or say "no" and just walk away. In both cases, you respect yourself, and you don't waste any of your energy. But if you agree to a compromise, you will be getting yourself involved in something that will be more costly than you think. You may realize this at the end of your day today, dear Virgo..

So, no compromises for me today!! My way or the highway, the stars say so!

My Washington Post horoscope is even better than that one though, I wonder who it's gonna be...

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). When you think about your social life, there are definite rungs of friendship people must go through to get close to you. You don't answer the phone to just anybody. Somebody jumps from a lower rung to a higher one today.

Will it be you? And, am I really all that hierarchical? Hmmmm, I have my doubts, but looks like it'll be a pretty eventful day. All that's on my horizon right now is working, making Thai food for Liz and I (the lone members of the Thursday night dinner club that are actually in town right now), and watching the OC. We shall see my friends, we shall see!

As mentioned in an earlier post, I'm on the cusp of Leo and Virgo, so I like to read both and come up with some combo-scope. Basically today looks to be full of decisions that directly speak to my persona:

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22). Be the total individual today, not at all influenced by the usual onslaught of advertising and corporate brainwashing you encounter. You don't need a media spectacle to show you what you want out of life.

I'll let you know how this all unfolds...or if it's the standard Thursday I'm expecting it to be (with the added buzz of wearing new shoes).

Drink a beer, drink a beer, drink a beer like a Wahoo can

The story linked up there is just glorious. I mean, I always knew the UVA bar scene was happening, but, now so does everyone else. Now I'll pour myself to bed and reminisc about the fuzzy biltmorememories I've built up over the years....sigh. Still reeling from the untimely demise of HFS, but looking forward to a weekend of Gavin, Jimbo, Drizew, bloody maries and my new bed!

And, just cause:

normcdnld: i'm Maurice Ravel
normcdnld: and you're Dimitri Shostakovich
normcdnld: and i just got off work and it's almost 4
normcdnld: why would they make a world famous dead 20th century composer work this late?
normcdnld: i'd expect you to know the answer since you are one too
normcdnld: hillel

A real tragedy

It is with a sad song in my heart that I bring you all this truly bad news. 99.1 WHFS has been taken off of the air. Without warning to their listeners in any form, at noon today the station switched over to a Spanish network. I listened to the Sports Junkies this morning (as I do everyday) and they said nothing about it, which leads me to believe they didn't know.

Growing up in the DC area and being of certain cultural persuasions, HFS was a bastion of cool. Untainted by the forces that be at Clearchannel, they actually managed to maintain their status as an alternative rock station, amongst the detrius that surrounded them (the Evanescence-friendly DC 101 not withstanding). The yearly HFStival was not only the biggest concert of every year, it was a rite of passage for every metro area teen. Where else will girls learn the evils of bikinis with tie tops? My uncle remembers recording Weasle's broadcasts in the 70s. I feel like I've had a personal relationship with HFS since I was about 12. The perrenial occupant of the number one button on my presets, it's woken me up, put me to sleep, driven me to work and school, and accompanied me on countless errands and afternoons of reading or hanging out in my bedroom. It served as my beacon, letting me know I had officially crossed back over into Northern Virginia on those drives home from Charlottesville. It played the music that launched me into my grunge-era adolescence, and stayed cool past the days of flannel. An HFS sticker adorned my first car, and my highschool locker.

The shock and dismay among all the people I've talked to about this is substantial. The fact that all of the websites affiliated with the station are crashing their servers while fans try and access them (hence no link for this blog entry), and their phone line has been giving me a busy signal for the past 20 minutes, tells me that this is not a change people are going to take lightly. Though they have been suffering in ratings in recent years, this station has been a beloved stronghold, an intangible landmark for anyone that's had the pleasure of being a listener. Nothing was contrived or pandering (without being very self aware, at least), and you could always count on HFS to give you the things that nobody else would. Their DJs have always been more real than anyone else's, and have always been really, really good at their jobs. You never felt as though you were being spoonfed listening to HFS. It's that sense of comeupance that went hand in hand with the alternative genre they peddled. This is probably what brought them their ultimate demise, as the more you move towards the fringes (as Liz points out), the more you're listening to CDs or your iPod instead of the radio, for lack of any substance or quality. Well, the last shop for quality has apparently closed down. I think most people can agree that the only runner up is 94.7, classic rock (whose decision to include artists from the burgeoning of my hay day - like RHCP and Counting Crows - is another topic alltogether, and horrifying all its own), probably the only other frequency remaining that doesn't play Nelly; however, there is a distinct difference between rocking out to the past, and rocking into the present. I have a hard time stomaching this whole ordeal, as I (nor anyone I know) never heard it mentioned on air at all. There are ongoing promotions and sponsorships. They recently opened a new studio. Last week the junkies raised $25,000 for tsunami releif. The pieces just don't add up. But I sure am puzzled.

It is a true disservice to the loyal (though waning) fan base of the station to have so surreptitiously ended its tenure. Aside from my angst and dismay over the close of this era at all, I feel largely robbed of a proper goodbye. Muchless a proper warning. If given their own way about this, HFS would surely have celebrated the end to this era, with a killer party.

I can only hope this is some sort of elaborate prank, but I fear that it isn't. And I'm really not looking forward to the Junkie-free drive to work in the morning. The last thing left for me to do is to say goodbye to my beloved favorite radio station. I really will miss you; I'm having an unexpectedly emotional reaction to this news. I didn't even realize I was personifying the station just then, but I think that's the thing that made the real difference at HFS - it had a personality. The powers that be made a sad decision for culture, for the future of DC's youth, and for me. The ramifications of corporations placing importance on money over matter is another topic completely, but all things aside, today is a sad day. 99.1 will no longer rock on. Bon Voyage, HFS. You will truly be missed.

************************************************************************************
Afterthought: There is a lot of press running on this topic now; you can find lots of articles discussing the move, but the basic message throughout is that the powers that be sold out. What a turn of poetic tragedy!

Gasp!

Happy Birthday Jill Torok!!!



Here's your horoscope for the day my dear (courtesy of the Washington Post):

TODAY'S BIRTHDAY (January 11). This will be a busy, energetic year for you, bustling with social commitments and bursting with creative insights. A project you've been nursing with care and love goes public in February. March is cozy and romantic, while summertime is a whirlwind of publicity for your business. Also, a family-related event is featured in June. Your lucky numbers are: 12, 47, 6, 51 and 30

Not too shabby!!

Blog Commentary...Blogentary?

Hmm, blogentary sounds too much like disentary, I'll have to work on that...

Anyhow, to the point:

jarofALAN: so i've been reading your blog for quite a while
jarofALAN: and i now feel strangely close to you
jarofALAN: not in a strange way!
jarofALAN: but in a close way, strangely enough
jarofALAN: damn! there's that strange word again!

PS: Alan is manpretty, that's why I'm his sugar mama. Tyler is marrying Sophia Coppola, but I'm going to be his date to the wedding. Matt Lynch works for the Corporate Executive Board, and I too work for a business company. Why do I tell you these things you ask? Because I saw their friend Art on Friday night at a bar. That is all.

The Winter 2004/2005 Catch Phrase List

In a brief review of all of the shinanigans that have ensued basically from Thanksgiving through the present (and holy crap, that's a lot of shinanigans), I'm going to (without frame of reference) run down the top catch phrases, in no particular order. These are phrases that, among my various groups of friends, will live in infamy forever with such company as haHA!, Schlob ya knob guvna?, HOOSPOT, Sprite: Does a Body Good, Awkward, YOU KNOW?, Stars, SARS, Me Spoons!, BOOM! Shaq Attack, Swiss Miss, I'm Wearing my Drunkenness on my Sleevelessness, and BAKAW!:

• Yo, dat's off the TRIVET
• Glossy Spray
• Bobar
• Ears like a shark
• Do you DDR?
  
• Peru
• Anybody want some chicken?
  
• Flat Tire
• Build her a cake
• Coppola
• Rum Balls
• RBV
• I am all that is Man
• What are you?
  
• SAYS, not "sez"
• Cindy Margolis
• I am stealth
• The T-tsunami
• Ikea Toilet Scrubber
  

I know I'm forgetting some....so please feel free to comment with the ones I've forgotten :)

Is this thing on?

Hey pals, guess what? It's Friday! This week seems to have flown by at lightning speed, well done, week. I still like 2005 so far. Just for the record. Nothing monumental has happened, but I think that's a better way to start off. No? This entry will be more willy nilly thoughts and remembrances than structured subject matter, as the last one was. Gotta shake things up! So come, follow me into the rabbit hole little ones...

Last night, after a truly delicious dinner by Lizzard, and some truly delicious time with my friends from Newport Beach ("What do you expect? I'm the daughter of a theif and a slut!"), and some always delicious hanging out time with Diana, Lizard, Mike, Jenna, Luna (who, apparently, leaps like a reindeer when you say "poop in the but") and Tyler, I decided "Hey, I wanna go out!" This is usually an urge that's best ignored on a week night, but I decided hey, it's Thursday, what the hell? Tybeast and I mosied on up to the Shark Club to play pool with Hoybomb, Stumpy (who, by the way, drank his own weight in vodka, wtf?), Stace Face Killa, and Sambo. That sentence was fun, cause I used nick names for everyone. Neat, huh? Anyhow, good times were had by all, even our waitress - Not-latina/Lebanese/Iranian/Mediteranean Sarah. And the mass quantities of citrus fruit our group required. There was a guy playing at the table across from us, leaning against a pole talking to a girl. The back of his tee shirt read, "The girl I'm talking to is SUCH A BITCH!" Hilarious. I had 5 beers in about an hour, so....I'm moving a little slow today, but, not too bad. Why did I have 5 beers in an hour you ask? Well, I don't know. I suppose I was thirsty. Anyhow, good times. Except for my pool playing, that was not good. You'd think growing up with a table in my basement would have improved my skills. Nay.

So, anyhow, the afore mentioned Alias premeire was muy caliente. Between that, Lost, and next week's return of 24, my heart rate is happily up to it's super action drama loving levels. After my misadventures at Fudruckers that afternoon, however, I was not feelin so hot, so I missed what was surely a stellar cullinary creation by John Matthew, I'm sure you guys had a great time and the food was marvelous. I did read, however (on the USA Today pop culture blog, which I always enjoy because the girl who writes it is pretty cool and not annoying), that Jeff Probst (Survivor host) is now dating a Survivor! Pretty scandalous, huh? I didn't really watch the season in question, so I don't know who the girl is, but, I thought that was pretty entertaining.

In truly exciting news, also learned from that same blog, Comedy Central has greenlighted a Stella Series!!!! I am SO PUMPED! I have an idea, let's dance to some barenaked ladies!!!!

The one and only Gavin Duncan will be in town next weekend. Who's excited?! I know I am :) I also plan on visiting tyler mcflyler at JMU sometime that weekend, cause we have MLK day off. Respec. In other traveling news, I'm thinkin another trip to Phoenix will be upon me President's Day weekend. I was there the same weekend last year and forgot to call my mom on her birthday. Seriously, how un-like me is that? So very. I do realize I'm long over due for a New York visit, and it is indeed in the works. I think now I'm gonna wait till Gavin gets his apartment, then I'll come up for super happy fun times visiting him, Pam, Natasha & Michael, Jim...yeah. I will make it. And soon. Really. Seriously. And then, Wake Forrest...

OH SHIT!!!!! My iPod just picked "If you have to ask"... would a hungover dance party be inappropriate office behavior? Probably, but damn, this beat is FUNKY! Much love for memories of cville nights and ashtree mornings :) Seriously, I'm wigglin like a m*f-er right now, I can't stop! Screw gatorade, THIS is the miracle hangover cure. RHCP and gettin DOWN!

About Stretch

Inspired by Drew, I took Tickle's inkblot test and, like him, found the results surprisingly accurate. Perhaps a bit overblown, but as a baby born on a cusp, I don't tend to fit entirely into molds. Anyhow, here are the results of my inkblot test:



Amanda, your subconscious mind is driven most by Peace

You have a deeply-rooted desire to make peace in the world. Whether through subtle interactions with loved ones, or through getting involved in social causes, it is important to you to be able to influence the world in a positive way.

You have a deep respect for humankind. You care about the future of the world, even beyond your own involvement in it, and you inspire others to feel the same way. Your innate drive toward peace guides you in daily life towards decisions that are respectful toward yourself and others.

Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are.

Writing what I wrote above made me want to learn more about being born on a cusp (btw, this means I was born when two signs - Leo and Virgo - were overlapping). Apparently, this increases my ability to adjust and accept multiple influences at once. My qualities are an anomolie and there is no one ruling force in my life. Though I haven't the time or the introspection right now to delve into examples that make that hold water, I find it pretty true on the whole. And, as a bonus, I get to read two horoscopes at once and keep the pieces I want from both!

So, today, according to the Washington Post, I'm:

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22). The stars highlight your need for abundance. If you're slaving all of your time away to be able to pay your bills, you'll never get ahead. Figure out a way to work part time on building your fortune.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Working on your health is spiritually rewarding -- cosmic attunement is a tangible thing in your world. You can almost hear the music of the spheres! On a practical level, this simply means you're feeling darned good.

From that I'll say that I'm in a friendly type mood, and my noodle's workin on tomorrow. Yup, sounds about right. Not too shabby for a rainy day, huh?

After all of you complained to me about not being able to comment, I fixed it, and now no one is commenting. SO, I leave it in your hands to respond either with your Rorschach ink blot results, your sign and today's horoscope, or just input on the topic - do you think these kinds of personality indicators hold any water? . Or hey, whatever the hell you feel like.

Oh Happy Day!

Finalmente! Alias is back! I can't wait for the return of one of my favorite shows tonight. As I've iterated many times, I love TV. I do, I can't deny it. Alias is one of the many reasons why. Aside from being really exciting, home of some of the best cliff hangers on tv, well acted, and well crafted by JJ Abrams, post-Buffy it fills my penchant for women who are highly skilled in the ways of the ass kick.

But I digress....

I'm currently sort of puddled in my rolly chair due to the extremely full belly I'm rockin as a result of lunch at Fudruckers with my fellas. Fun as always, but next time I eat with them hopefully I won't have to hear Kev say "Juggz," Sam say "Mattress Wrestling," and Chris say "New Sex Toy." Wow, I can't wait to see the google hits my blog's gonna get now that it says those things. Stattracking funtastica!

I finally saw Donnie Darko last night. I subsequently spent a lot of time online reading theories and looking up back info that I didn't spend enough time with the DVD's special features or on the website to deduce myself. Not quite as utterly mystifying as I'd been lead to believe, but quite a good movie, I liked it a lot. Hell of a score too. Jake G did a great job; actually, I thought everyone did a pretty great job. And how freakin scary was Frank?
Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion.
And scene.

As you can see, I'm fully imbued with cultural ponderings and anticipation, as well as ground beef today, leaving me a bit sparse on the blogging tip. I've also got a fair amount of work weighing into the mix, so at that, I'll leave you.

Till we meet again, little doodles.

And I'm BACK in the game!

Welcome to 2005 everybody! I feel like some weight has been lifted now that the holidays are over. While there was very much fun had, very many friends seen, very much of everything consumed and very many things done, I. am. spent. The blog is slowly getting fixed more and more, soon it will be both pretty, live, and functional.

A belated happy birthday message goes out to the wonderful, the one and only, history's greatest roomate, my dear beloved Samina Khawaja! My favorite new year's baby!

Also, today marks the birth of the one and only James David Spore. Happy birthday you crazy fuck, the world's a much wilder, more wonderful place with you in it.

I'm pretty sure that 2005 is gonna be the year of Amanda. We'll have to wait a little while to be positive, but, things are lookin good.

A Time To Talk

Sitting here new year's day, squeaking cause I left my voice in 2004, reading poetry, thought this was a nice sentiment to carry into 2005. We could all use some slowing down and focusing on the people in our lives instead of the responsibilities buzzing around us.

A Time To Talk
Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.