Buy my book, chubby!

I had one of those weird thoughts the other day. People (random strangers, mostly) occasionally ask me, "How do you stay so skinny?" Somehow it's acceptable to ask about my dietary habits, while it would be rude and insensitive for me to ask an obese person "How did you get so fat?" Having no better answer to these inquiries than a shrug, I have since come up with some replies:

Fast metabolism
Multiple gym memberships
[Insert fad diet here]
Internal parasite
[Insert eating disorder here]
I have restricted myself to an all-liquid diet until the US pulls out of Iraq
Balanced diet and moderate exercise
Androids don't gain weight
Ask a fat person what their daily routine is, and assume I generally do the opposite
I only eat what I can catch
Jesus helped me break my addiction to fast food and soft drinks
Hypnosis actually works. Who knew?

Pick your favorite, or add your own! Political correctness is not encouraged!

What I Did Over Summer Vacation, Volume 21

Someone asked me the other day, what I had been doing since the end of spring semester. I paused. What had I done with those warm, education-free months?
Well, I changed my major after I got my studio grade back. One visit to Starkville.
I sat on my butt at home for a month while I filled out over a dozen applications and waited for any responses. Finally went back to $6.50 an hour at a job that is either hot, boring, or ridiculously frustrating, with one boss I absolutely cannot stand. The other one is okay.
I chatted up my boyfriend via AIM every day, reminding him that his bills were due and bugging him about telling his parents that he was planning on marrying me.
I had my wisdom teeth removed, so I'm missing a couple of days ...
I stayed up until 3 a.m. (on several occasions) talking to Miki while she was supposed to be doing work in India.
I spent too much of my money on clothes. But I can now dress like an adult on a more regular basis! Be excited.
I convinced Harry (yes, I'm calling Adri's cat by his real name) that I will not eat him, nor will my skin secrete acid.
And I cleaned out my car. No more ants. Hoolay!

Hey hey, whaddaya say?

Great success, my loyal readers! After weeks of persuasion, Dennis finally told his parents that he is planning on proposing. The specifics are still quite unknown to me (which is probably a good thing, but my curiosity will most likely make the next few months pure torture). I'm not a huge fan of planning large events, so don't be offended, my lovelies, if you receive a post-wedding announcement. I would like to get at least a vacation out of the deal, so my elopement will be a bit more romantic than "Grab a clean shirt and meet me at the courthouse." Mom seems to be cool with the idea, and Dad isn't going to find out until I have a ring to show him. He can't worry about something he doesn't know, right?
Anyhoo ...
I'm supposed to go shopping for phones. Finally retiring my faithful cellular companion of four years. Do they still make phones that don't have cameras or mp3 players built in?

Take the red pill. You'll thank me later.

Hello, all. I hope everyone has been thoroughly enjoying their summer, doing whatever it is that you people do ...
As many of you know, I had my wisdom teeth cut out Friday. And yes, I'm feeling dumber already. Apparently I'm quite amusing when under sedation, and quite willing to speak freely on any number of subjects.
So for a while I have been subsisting on a diet of liquids and very soft, squishy foods. It took me nearly an hour to eat a couple of mini burgers and some fries today, and my jaws are protesting loudly. It is nice to see a decrease in the swelling, despite the persistent ache. Anyhoo, I look forward to being able to return to an all-solid diet so I can explore some new restaurants with my lovely readers!

Upgrade!

Thanks to a change in schedule, I've been more or less promoted. But without a raise in pay. I'm being reassigned to work the day shift at the Highland store during the week rather than alternating with three other people for the evening hours and weekends at both locations. This means I can expect a fairly regular paycheck and I won't have to work in a building without air conditioning. Now if only I could make 7:30 a.m. seem not so early ...

Why do so many people think my boyfriend is gay?

Yay for actually having update material!
Numero the first: The employment fairy took a few wrong turns and sprained a wing, but finally made it to my house. Whee! I'll be working for the cleaner's again, but alternating between the main store and the satellite location. Huzzah for non-sweatiness.
Two: I'm having my wisdom teeth removed. Before lunch. On Friday the 13th. I'm gonna be hungry whenever I'm not too drugged to give a crap.
Thirdly, as per my title: A gay couple asked for Dennis's phone number today while he was at work. This isn't the first time he's been mistaken for a gay. A cashier at the Lowe's in Waveland thought so too, as did Dennis's uncle when he was in high school. Yeah. So I have to worry about pushy women and gay guys hitting on the yeti. Fantastic.

And for your final thought of the day - "Do you know the difference between black people and Italians? Italians don't have a Secret Sauce." (Courtesy of Bill Cosby)

Trying to explain "Karamel Sutra" to one's mother can be a bit awkward

It's been nearly a month since my last post, and the Employment Fairy seems to have forsaken me. *sigh*
So I've spent a lot of time playing WoW and bumming around the house, allowing my sleep schedule to go completely wonky. Which is why I'm posting at 6 in the morning. Woke up at 3. Probably crash around lunchtime.
Anyway, there's really not too much to update (at least not in this public-ish manner), but I would definitely love to get together with whoever is left in Jackson for Fattening Girl Food Night sometime very soon.

Always one step ahead of the uniform train

Hello, lovelies.
Not too much to update, as I've seen or talked to most of you since my last post. Successfully changed my major to history and have talked to the director of the architecture department about completing a minor. Should have that finished after next spring, I believe. The job hunt has begun ... Why does it seem to be so difficult to find one? I dunno.
Anyway, that's about it. I guess I'll have another post for you whenever the Employment Fairy comes to visit me. Silly Employment Fairy ...

When the outcome fails to meet the expectations ...

Sophomore year is over. Okay, technically I stopped being a sophomore at Christmas, so I'm halfway through junior classification. Fantastic. In an ideal world, I'd be three semesters away from graduating, but you know what? It's not an ideal world.
I knew from the beginning that architecture was a demanding major, but I truly believed I could do well (or at least okay). How naive of me. Two years later I've come home completely disenchanted with studio culture. I'm not stupid, I never missed class, all my work was turned in on time ... but there was no reward at the finish line.
So?
So ... I've decided I don't want to do architecture - building, designing, drafting - anymore.
No more putting in 40 hours of work for one class every week without due recognition, no more explaining weird purchases at Lowe's, no more using the word "spatial."
But now that I know what I don't want to do, I need to figure out what I do want to do. At the moment, history seems to be the most attractive candidate, perhaps in combination with communications or education or ... something. The good news: I've already completed 27 hours of the core curriculum for a history major, so it's not like I'm starting from scratch. If I overload a little or take summer courses, I can get out in three years or less.
So that's my life-altering decision of the day. I get to rejoin the world of the living.

It's like DDR for your hands

Hello, all.
It seems, for Dennis, at least, that Christmas comes every time a package finds its way to the front porch. Last night, while I was beginning to enjoy my brief holiday (woot) and he was at work, a box arrived, containing a copy of Guitar Hero II and the accompanying guitar-shaped controller. I must say, this is a most amusing game. Good enough that I set up a user account on XBOX Live to keep track of my own records.
Give it a shot if you have a chance.

Everyone pull out your pictures and brag on your children!

This is Tribbles.


He is very fond of basil and strawberries.

See? Didn't I say he's cute?

Photographic evidence to be added at a later date!

Dennis and I went to Tupelo today and bought a guinea pig. Very cute, it has a faux-hawk.

Adopt a Squid!

I appreciate people who make a habit of donating to charitable organizations. It's good for the soul, and not bad for those who are receiving aid, either. But when retailers jump on the bandwagon (i.e. the current spree of designers cranking out red items), the spirit of charity gets marred by capitalism and materialism. The designer makes money, and the consumer gets a product. Instead of spending $50 on a red handbag with a tag that proclaims that a portion of the proceeds will go to help AIDS patients in Africa - lady, you don't need that red handbag ... it's pretty gaudy and you have nothing in your wardrobe that goes with it - why not just find an organization and write a check. At least then it's tax deductable, if you must have justification beyond the concept of "charity."
Above is a link for a website selling giant plush squid ... squids? For a minimum of $400, you can help tsunami victims rebuild their lives ... and have a giant plush squid! Granted, they are very large, and very well made (by hand, even!), but what would one do with an enormous stuffed squid? Make films that combine a plush fetish with tentacle porn?

Something witty and effortless

It is truly amazing how easily educated, reasonably intelligent people can be entertained. Deal or No Deal was introduced to the American television audience, and until a few weeks ago I remained blissfully ignorant of how exactly it worked. All I could gather through the brief moments I was exposed to while channel surfing was that money, screaming, and girls with numbered briefcases were involved. Somehow.
But in reality it's a game of chance and self-sabotage. No real skill involved. And yet it can be fascinating.
With "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" we could laugh at people for being stupid and missing easy questions about nursery rhymes or well known stories from Greek mythology. With "Deal or No Deal" there is a test of a person's character. Are they willing to take risks? Do they let greed cloud their better judgment? How do they deal with a relative whose advice potentially cost them tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars?
If you are interested in witnessing these phenomena, spend a few minutes watching the show. Just don't let yourself be dazzled by the sparkly outfits worn by the briefcase models.

A small late-night offering

Click and enjoy, if you aren't confused first.

A lengthy discussion on the direction studio has taken, over a bottle of the most sovereign vodka we could afford

Don't you hate those professors who pretend to offer students control over their own education?
Cut the crap, people! You know there is only one acceptable course of action. We know there is only one acceptable course of action. You know that we know that there is only one acceptable course of action. And we know that you know that we know that there is only one acceptable course of action.
And that course of action is to do everything within our power to gain the approval of our all-powerful instructors.
If having our scholarships renewed wasn't so dependent on maintaining a decent GPA, the outcome would be a bit more interesting. Instead of talking about a revolt, we would have a revolt. Instead of folding like a flock of origami sheep, we would enforce university policies stating that class is dismissed if the instructor does not arrive within ten minutes of the scheduled start time.
The studio professors expect us to devote 100 percent of our time and energy to a class that makes up 30 to 50 percent of our class schedule (in terms of course hours), but also expect that we perform well in our other classes. And get plenty of sleep.
I think I'm ready for spring break ...

Things that go "Mmm ... Ohhh ... *BUMP*" in the night

It's time for a real life example!
This week in Materials, we went on a visit to some retail/residential building sites in the Cotton District. Framing, woo. The walls between shops or apartments had studs that were placed in an alternating, zig-zaggy pattern, to create more room for insulation and to dampen the transfer of sound through the wall.
The dividing wall at the duplex apparently doesn't include this feature.
I was having dinner with Dennis the other night, and I kept hearing these sounds. I narrowed it down to two possibilities. Either the couple in the other half of the duplex was having an after-dinner romp, or the guy was watching porn while jumping rope.
Something for everyone to consider when looking for living arrangements in the future.

VD is not the preferred abbreviation for Valentine's Day

Hello, all!
This year for Valentine's Day, our studio professors gave us a sh*tload of work to do for a jury presentation next week. Fantastic. Thanks for ruining any chance of having a weekend with only slightly more than average amounts of stress.
In case anyone cares, this is the first year I've actually had a boyfriend during Valentine's Day. Dennis and I weren't technically together at this time last year. But the festivities have to wait until he gets his tax return or his paycheck, as he is currently overdrawn from the moving expenses.
So I bought myself some new toys. A bright, shiny chisel and a rubber mallet. So if this architecture gig doesn't work out, I can apprentice as some sort of carpenter ... shipbuilding, cabinetry, furniture, wooden shoes ...
Anyhoo.
Happy Condom Week!
If you can't be "good," be "bad" in a responsible manner.

I'm a dork.

Dork, dork, dork ...

Slosh

Hi all.
So I wake up this morning to a call from my dad. It seems Mary Elizabeth pulled a chair up to the counter and broke into a box of children's Alavert from the cabinet. Nine tablets.
So they took her to the emergency room (good thing the hospital's literally across the street, huh?) and were there until about 5:30 this morning.
Consider this my contribution to the arguments about pharmaceuticals. Is it so important that medicine tastes good so that children will take it? Or have they even considered that it could be misinterpreted as a tempting treat?
Bah.