Red-flag sentences in recent query
Posted by: Liz
Red-flag sentences in recent query lettersI plan to do with education what Grisham has done with law or what Clancy has done with the military, but with a meaningful, “literary” approach.
There are so many poetry books out there. What is the real poetry? "Love letters to the lord" is the answer.
The aging foursome get into all sorts of looney trouble in L.A.
The story builds slowly and steadily, climaxing immediately before the epilogue. The reading is so comfortable and engaging that the end of the story comes almost too quickly.
Misti is a prostitute fleeing her past.
Images my Yahoo search engine listed as "popular"
50 Cent
Mars
Dragons
Flowers
Baby
Spiderman
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Abby's had a lot of
Posted by: Liz
Abby's had a lot of extra stuff in her life lately that she's been giving away and each time she goes to offer it around, I jump up and grab it like the greedy little packrat I am. Springform pan? I'll take it! Extra Bust subscription? Me me! (that just came, actually--thanks!) Yoga tape? Give it here! The yoga tape I thought would be fun for getting in the stray workout here and there and also for introducing it to my friends who have expressed interest in starting up. I thought J would be a good test run, so we rearranged the living room and whipped out the old yoga mat and got to work. Or tried to anyway--it seems Max is in love with the yoga mat. He ran over and plopped down right in the middle of it and wouldn't budge. I kicked him off, but it was his long lost best friend and he had to be on top of it at all times, running right back and plopping down again each time. This didn't work out so well when you're trying to, say, actually use the mat, so we put him in opposite jail. Jail being when he won't leave you alone when you're cooking and he is sequestered in a closed off room. Opposite jail is when we submit him to the horror of locking ourselves in a room and giving him the run of the apartment. He doesn't like jail, opposite or not, and always makes a big production with the yowling and pawing at the door and such. But last night, opposite jail was NOT OKAY. He immediately started wailing and we ignored him while we did our warrior ones. The wailing got louder through the next part of the video, and there was a small racket in the kitchen. Finally, the yowling got so deep and guttural, I went out to check on him. Well, I think opposite jail in combination with separation from his best buddy, Yoga Mat, really did it in for him. He'd turned over his water and food dishes all over the floor and was so worked up that he finally just puked everywhere. And that about did it for the yoga mood of the evening.This is just one of several toddler tactics--including going limp when he doesn't want to leave the foyer--that Max has seen fit to employ recently, making me think he's learning things from TV when we're not home.
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Wanna find out what kind
Posted by: Liz
Wanna find out what kind of blogger you are? Sure you do! This person hates blogs, but has dedicated an enormous amount of time and writing to explain the intricacies of this hate. So, well.My test results said I am normal. That was revealing.
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I have never, in my
Posted by: Liz
I have never, in my Colorado-raised/Tacoma-schooled days seen a snow day called a full 12 hours in advance. Yet, here in New York, that's exactly what happened. Sure, it was a bit slippery last night, and yes there was accumulation, but everyone knows the whether is a fickle thing. Maybe it's from my childhood days of waking up to snow drifts and enjoying a pleasant 70-degree day later that same afternoon that has instilled this knowledge in me, because it sure isn't common sense to these New Yorkers. Of course the ending to this story is that this morning broke with a beautiful 30-degrees, sun shining, roads plowed, and yet I am here alone in the office. Well, to be fair there are only two other people in my office and the boss is working from home, but honestly if a snow day was going to be called, I would have liked to know about it. But I then would have felt guilty because, as I mentioned, it is SUNNY outside.If you don't hear from me again it is because a blizzard started up after I finished this post and buried me in a fit of irony.
Would you like something helpful? Here you go: 1-800-201-7575. This is the Amazon.com customer service hotline. I feel like I'm giving away a big secret because they go to great lengths not to post this number on their website. But I googled them and found some other website that had it posted, so haha amazon.com people I CAN CALL YOU NOW. WHICH I DID--oops with the caps there ok--because their e-mail help is the least helpful thing I have ever had the displeasure of wading through. J told me a friend of his used to work in the customer service area answering phones for them and that it was a big joke to everyone. If a customer wanted to speak to a manager, the representative said, Sure. Then put them on hold and shouted out, Who wants to be the manager! to the rest of the workers. Fun and games.
I want to see the new episode of America's Top Model because on the previews they showed one contestant having her hair cut and dyed into a platinum bob. And then she cries so much these big fake eyelashes that they put on her fall off. It seems so tragic and funny all at once.
My co-worker has come in now, so my office is no longer empty, but humming with productivity. J's work, on the other hand, officially called it a snow day after he got there.
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I used to have an
Posted by: Liz
I used to have an entry up about my friend Tug Leeder, but my archives has eaten it as a snack. I had written it so that Tug would finally be able to Google himself and have something pop up. I won't repeat the whole thing, but I will summarize for all you Tug lookers out there:Tug Leeder = alias of some sort
Peter Alamouski = real name? Unclear
Likes: seducing girls to make out with him using theatrical devices such as lite brite displays, New Mexico, rocking out, people buying him beer, Brendan Sexton
Dislikes: having his heart broken (aww)
I'm eating a tofu smothered
Posted by: Liz
I'm eating a tofu smothered in BBQ sauce. I didn't know they made such a thing, but they do. The "steaks" are much like regular tofu except much denser, which is what makes them a steak, I suppose. I like to think of it as a textured way to bring BBQ sauce to my mouth. It's a little more responsible than spooning it directly in.The steak is leftover from Saturday night dinner party fun: this girl, this girl, J, and I put together a feast of steaks (tofu and non), salad, broccoli, cheese-laden twice stuffed potatoes, homemade sesame seed encrusted bread, and apple pie with ice cream. Damn, you are probably saying to yourself, and you would be right: damn.
There's a little community theater across the street (literally, like 4 doors down) from our apartment, but J and I (and previously Kelly and I) have managed not to make it to any of their shows. Perhaps it has something to do with the awful hand-painted signs they make for each show. I guess I thought it was a children's theater or something. That's awful isn't it? I should be much more supportive of Park Slope performances of "Chess." Or, say, this weekend's performance of "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown."
So on Friday, some of us shelled out (had their boyfriends shell out) $15 and sat down for a rousing two hours of the worst musical ever conceived. Seriously, who thought of this? I realize it was a big Broadway hit at one point, but who decided this? I believe all the old people and cat-sweatshirt wearing women--the same people who clip Family Circle cartoons for their fridge, and laugh indulgently at Garfield's penchant for lasagna, and who think "Oh, that rascal, Fred Basset is at it again!"--are the people responsible, the ones who must have sat through all those productions of this and made it a big deal. It can be described succinctly as: Peanuts brought to life. And not charmingly in the form of a cartoon, but eerily in the form of actors.
Everything was off in a weird way: The actor playing Linus gave him a nasally nerd voice and the demeanor of someone just pulled away from their Magic the Gathering game; Patty was not Patty at all but a goofily smiling, blonde, pigtailed, bandaided, girl with a jump rope (we think the character of Sally was meshed into this non-Patty person); and most disconcerting of all was Snoopy played as a gay dog with a Blanche DuBois/Snagglepuss complex. Yeah.
If you are in a drugstore and you are waiting in line and you are next to all the Valentine merchandise, take a look a round. If you happen to see, what looks like a plush ghost holding a Valentine's Day heart, take a minute to wonder at why there is a Valentine's Day ghost. Is it left over from the manufacturer's Halloween merchandise? Curiosity, not sated, take a minute to press the little button that says Try Me! He will sing a little song for you (to the tune of "You are my Sunshine") that will sound like: "My little bon pie, my only bon pie..." Wonder WHAT the fuck is a bon pie. "You make me happy on Bon Pie Day." Realize, oh, he must be saying "Valentine." Press the button again, because now, even though you know he says Valentine, it will still sound like Bon Pie, and it is funny all over again. Call your significant other Bon Pie from this point forth.
Are you cold? I am! Not my coworker, though. She ordered warmies and a hat from Ariel. They're adorable! Everyone likes handmade, original gifts. Go here, too!
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My boss asked me to
Posted by: Liz
My boss asked me to fax the mast head of this month's Conde Nast Traveler to one of our authors, but there was some hold up getting the number, so the magazine sat on my desk open for a while. I eventually faxed the author and forgot about it until a few minutes ago when I went to clean it up and HOLY COW, who's there to greet me on the cover but my long-time celebrity love Owen Wilson. In Hawaii. With pursed Owen Wilson lips. Whoo, is it hot in here? Ok, I can't joke like that because J gets anxious when I get too excited for Owen Wilson. He doesn't like it when I pretend I would definitely go on a date with Owen if he were to pop into town and ask me out. For J, this is within the realm of possibility, and for that I love him all the more. J, not Owen.But seriously folks, it is a bit warm.
In any case, the interview on the inside (which I hear completely and clearly in Owen's voice) mentions that he's working with big bro Andrew on a documentary about 3 prodigy surfer brothers, which sounds great. However, all should note he did not mention his next big movie with Wes Anderson. And that is because, I am afraid to speculate, there may not be one in the works. I got very excited several months ago when I read an interview with Bill Murray saying he was working on a project with Wes, but then got less excited when I surmised Owen wasn't in the picture (as in big or silver screen). Apparently they've parted ways for a bit to stretch their respective creative arms.
Which leads me to heightened anticipation regarding isolating the factors that make up the Wilson/Anderson team up. Surely Wes is the creative molder of story line and tone. But what will this look like without the characters and humor of Wilson's imagining?
Damn, his nose is sexy.
Did anyone else notice Austin Powers standing behind Hillary Clinton at the State of the Union Address?
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Some days I just sit
Posted by: Liz
Some days I just sit there and scroll through all the blogs I read and I get irritated that no one has done an update. And then I put on my little hypocrite baby-t because I have not updated my own page and I am in fact looking through other people's blogs as a mode of procrastination.This weekend is my birthday weekend. Well, my real birthday isn't until Tuesday, but I like to think of the celebration really stretching between your first gift/party to your last. This is a much better philosophy to take on birthdays than the standard one-day approach. My boss told me his kid didn't think he turned a year older until after he blew out the candle on his birthday cake. Too bad for him, one-second-birthday kid--let's hope he grows to reap the full fun and benefits of birthday week(s). Hell, month. This b-day thing is lasting me until at least the 25th, when my aunt is throwing me and my 5-year-old cousin a joint party. Along with the day, I will also be 25. Which means nothing except I enter a new demographic and can rent cars easier.
One of our authors is claiming almost a million dollars on their taxes this year. This sort of makes me want to be a best-selling author. This same author was also bouncing checks a couple weeks ago, so that makes me think I am really close to living the life of a best-selling author. Really close.
Here's a totally unrelated-to-anything story I was thinking about on the subway yesterday when it was really crowded and I had to hold onto a pole and couldn't read my book:
I was at my neighbors' house with my family for some party they were throwing. They had one of those little chalkboards in the kitchen for taking messages on, except instead of a message there was a cryptic note written out in chalk (no doubt by their teenage kids). I was probably about 8, so I didn't understand the note, which was:
B4 I 4Q ru/18 QT [pi symbol]
[with that ru being the numerator and the 18 being the denominator]
I was one of those kids that needed to know everything and asked around, but all the adults kept getting uncomfortable, saying "Uh, heh heh, ok then." and ignoring me. I couldn't help but feel like I was getting scammed out of a good joke. Finally, seeing my frustration, the host told me, "I'm afraid it's not very nice." Which didn't satisfy me, but made me realize no one was going to tell me. So I found a little yellow post-it, carefully copied the message down, and later put it in a little jewlery box I kept secret things in (a valentine from my secret crush with my name written out in his mom's handwriting, old baby teeth), figuring I'd eventually be old enough to get the joke. I remember coming back to the post-it ever so often, and then one day I just got it. I'm not sure it was a joke worth waiting however many years of maturation for, but the fact that I thought it was is pretty funny.
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I'm gonna try a new
Posted by: Liz
I'm gonna try a new comment server as the previous one proved spotty at best. Now, navigating my template...ok, here we go... --------When my good friend Stephen
Posted by: Liz
When my good friend Stephen Brackett is the next big movie star, you heard it here first.Also over break, he let us listen to a voice mail he had received from Daryl Hannah, who was apologizing for missing a meeting. I'm sure she's done a lot in her career, but all I could think was: mermaid.
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We could just call it
Posted by: Liz
We could just call it a birthday party, but "Black Mitzvah" is so much more, oh I don't know, offensiveThe Wall Street Journal
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
You Don't Have to Be Jewish to Want A Bar Mitzvah
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More Kids on Cusp of 13 Get Faux Post-Rite Parties; Picking Hawaiian Theme
By Elizabeth Bernstein
After going to a dozen bar mitzvahs and bat mitzvahs last year, Laura Jean Stargardt told her parents she wanted one of her own. She said she found the singing inspiring and offered to learn Hebrew. She also said she wanted a big party. Her parents thought the request was unusual since the family is Methodist. But they co-hosted a lavish party for her and two of her friends last month that looked like a bat mitzvah, without the religion. They booked a country club in Dallas and a disk jockey, invited 125 friends, and hired a professional dancer that Laura had seen at her friends' bar mitzvah parties.
"I wanted to be Jewish so I could have a bat mitzvah," says Laura. "Having the party fulfilled that."
A number of kids about to turn 13 who aren't Jewish are bugging their parents for parties that resemble those held following bar mitzvah ceremonies. In some affluent communities, parents line up the same entertainment and book the same party places. If they don't dance the traditional Jewish hora, they at least manage a tarantella or an Irish jig.
"Parents will call us and say, 'My son's been to over 20 bar and bat mitzvahs, and I just want to do something nice for him,"' says Paul Noto, whose Carle Place, N.Y., party entertainment company recently staged one such 13th birthday party that cost $75,000 and included a tent with chandeliers, DJs and dancers.
The parties can be upsetting to Jews who say they mock an important spiritual rite of passage. Others call the trend a welcome example of Jewish traditions becoming part of popular culture. "It shows how much the Jewish people and Jewish customs have become mainstream," says Rabbi Mark S. Diamond, executive vice president of the Board of Rabbis of Southern California.
A generation ago, when bar mitzvahs were simple affairs celebrated with a glass of Manischewitz, the idea of a copycat rite wouldn't have occurred to anybody. But, starting in the late 1960s, parties with themes became popular, and by the end of the '70s in some areas, competition was raging to make them ever more elaborate.
The bar mitzvah is actually an ancient, solemn event marking the coming of age of a Jewish male, undertaken after study of Jewish history, traditions and Hebrew. Bat mitzvahs, for girls, are a more recent phenomenon. Typically, children start intense preparations about a year before the event, spending several hours each week learning to read from the Torah -- the scroll containing the Five Books of Moses -- and sometimes writing a speech and doing charity work.
After his daughter, Melissa, had attended a handful of bar mitzvahs a few years ago, Kevin Williams decided to spend $12,000 to throw her a faux bat mitzvah at a Manhattan hotel. About 150 people received invitations that read, "Welcome to Melissa's Black Mitzvah. . . . Don't get offended, it's just her 13th birthday party." There was a candle-lighting ceremony -- like those she had seen at some bar mitzvahs -- where the birthday girl's parents, friends, grandmother and uncle were called up to light the candles on her cake. "After that party, two more of her non-Jewish friends had them," says Mr. Williams.
At Hart to Hart, a party company in Woodland Hills, Calif., co-owner Marsha Bliss says she organized more than a dozen parties last year for non-Jewish 13- year-olds whose parents requested bar mitzvah lookalikes, up from three in 2001. Daniel Rose of Montville, N.J., says he did seven or eight of these parties last year, up from two in 2001. In Roslyn, N.Y., NY Rhythm Entertainment has booked about a dozen in the past two years and none before that.
Many rabbis are quick to point out that the parties have little in common with the real thing. "Bar and bat mitzvahs are about accepting adult responsibility in the community," says Rabbi Richard Block, senior rabbi of The Temple- Tifereth Israel, in Cleveland. "If non-Jews are going to emulate their Jewish neighbors, better they emulate the enduring values of Jewish tradition than the material excesses of contemporary life."
In Malibu, Calif., Danielle Davis, who is Catholic, asked her parents for a bat mitzvah after attending several of her friends'. They explained to her the true meaning of the ceremony as a Jewish coming-of-age rite. "She said, 'Some of those things apply to me. I'm growing up and becoming a teenager. I should have a party to celebrate,"' recalls her mother, Rebecca Walls.
"Of course the kids who had great bar mitzvah parties were elevated socially. So we kind of felt a little bit of pressure to hold an event people would remember," Ms. Walls adds. In the end, Danielle had a party, in February 2002, at a beachfront banquet hall with a Hawaiian surfing theme, a DJ and two professional dancers.
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Oh yeah, Welcome in Krista
Posted by: Liz
Oh yeah,Welcome in Krista Backwards and her smoooth behind.
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Coming home from work yesterday,
Posted by: Liz
Coming home from work yesterday, there was a tremendous crowding on the subway platform at Union Square. People kept leaning in to see if a train was coming, but it wasn't, which is way irritating since you want a train pulling out of a station approximately every 5 seconds when it's rush hour. The pre-recorded announcement lady came on to tell us that "Due to an earlier incident, the Q, W, N, and R trains are running at reduced speeds." I got to thinking that it would be great if all of us came equipped with ubiquitous voices that alerted people when we weren't moving as fast as usual. The voice would be attached to some objective judging thing which would take note when your alarm was accidently never set or your heat turned off or you were feeling ill, and would then note the effect these things would have on your daily functions. Then no one could say anything to you if you seemed out of it, because they were fairly warned: "Due to an earlier incident, Liz will be running on the local track from coffee to mid-afternoon snack."Last Saturday, we went to visit Abby's kittens and brought them some top-of-the-line cat toys to play with: plastic straws. Which, say what you will, prove to be Max's longest-running favorite toy. By placing the straw high up on a wall or mirror, we've trained him to leap extraordinarily high in pursuit of the straw. However, what we unintentionally did, was train him to leap for the straw while facing the wall. So even when we hold the straw up behind him in the air, he will face the wall, contemplate the straw while tilting his head back, and leap backwards through the air for it. Highly entertaining.
Curious Max behavior explained:
Moments after sinking his teeth into a coveted straw he's begged for, he'll run over to the front door and shove it underneath.
The straws are actually his arch nemeses and he is at all times trying to either hunt them, chew them to death, alert us to their evil presence, or rid the apartment of them for good.
Incessantly shoves things on the floor.
Is acting out bottled up frustrations at having us always tell him to get down off the counter/desk and is taking aggression out on lesser objects by bullying them to the floor. Enjoys roll reversal.
Alternate explanation: is tiny cat scientist discovering the properties of gravity.
Begs for fresh produce.
Is tiny vegetarian cat scientist.
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Addendum and clarification to January
Posted by: Liz
Addendum and clarification to January 6th update where my wording implied that all parties were drinking said vodka and champagne.J was, in fact, not drinking, nor does he ever drink liquids containing alcohol. He occasionally partakes in liquids of a caffeinated or carbonated nature, but these instances are rare and often accompanied by an occasion, such as attendance of a coffee shop on a first date or cold day. He mostly drinks water and orange juice. Regrets extended to any offended parties. Thank you.
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I stopped at the store
Posted by: Liz
I stopped at the store near work to buy cat litter there because the price tag claimed to be selling it for $5 cheaper than the place at home. But it was a lie--it was more expensive. And I left the store and forgot my goddamn milk. So it was kinda like paying even more for the stupid litter. Which is the last thing in the world I feel like splurging on. Poop crystals.Last night I got preached to by a Hasidic Jew, which was a new one for me. This was how he approached me: "You look so Jewish!" Or rather he first asked if J and I were relatives, which if you've ever seen him (tall, blond, blue-eyed) is a confusing question in and of itself. Relatives? Was he asking if we were married? Do you refer to your spouse as a relative? J later thought he was trying to figure out what a nice Jewish girl like myself was doing with this white boy from Ohio, but at the time it was just confusing and there was a long pause before we answered no.
Now, I'm not what you would call "religious." I went through my whole religious soul searching in high school and I'm pretty much cool with stuff in general. "Stuff" including such things as lighting Hanukkah candles, going to a family Passover seder, making jokes about being overfed by my Jewish mom and hanging Christmas stockings. "Stuff" excluding prayers by rote, formal temple-going, and strict adherence to a religious label. When it is Sukkot and the little Jewish boys attack me in clusters by the Brooklyn library, priming their lulav and etrog in expectant blessing (definitely had to refresh my memory on what those were called. Thanks Google, for being the key to the locked up recesses of my brain. There should be a word for when you use Google to refresh your memory or check a fact you really do know but isn't on the tip of your tongue. Refroogle? Remoogle? Googember?), and ask me if I'm Jewish, I invariably say no. It's an easy New York rule. No means people will stop talking to you sooner.
But when guy on subway asked if I was Jewish, what came out was, "My mom is." Shit! Where did that come from? He took care to point out that under Jewish law, I was then considered Jewish. How 'bout it! And he couldn't get over how Jewish I looked. To J: "I mean, she looks SO Jewish!" But not just generally Jewish--location specific Jewish. After a general "conversation" where he asked about my family's decent, my matzoh-eating habits, and religious schooling history, he went on to say I looked exactly like I was from Williamsburg. Did I know Williamsburg? I paused, thinking he must be talking about some part of Europe I wasn't familiar with. He said it again with more emphasis. I nodded tentatively, Williamsburg? Like Brooklyn. Yes! I looked just like a Williamsburg Jew! Did I know there's a big Hasidic community there?
Luckily our stop came up quick and we escaped. Williamsburg Jew?
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I am a little update
Posted by: Liz
I am a little update and I'm wearing a little black dress with strappy black shoes and I'm dancing like this: ohlalaohwoowooX-mas: Denver was great and even more so 'cause I had J to lug around with me. You know all those movies where the guy meets the girl's parents and it's all crazy awkward and things catch on fire and cats die and stuff? This was like the exact opposite. (Unless you count marshmallows that we were roasting on our Hanukkah-gift s'more kit catching on fire, but that would be way out of context). Turns out J hanging around makes my family great. He's like some anti-crazy glue that makes everyone real nice and eager to bake and drive and buy and chit chat and be nice. Really. Good times. Also: babies. SO MANY BABIES! I got a little baby fever and told Willow, who responded with: "All I have to say is: strollers on the subway." I said, "Oh I know, I'm not really--" "Liz! Strollers on the subway." It's like backup birth control.
New Year's: Krista pulled out a sparkly little number and thought we should all completely overdress for the night, which I thought was a stellar idea. J also did because he has a tux he bought for when he escorted Willow to the Miss Mayo pageant and wearing it one more time would make it worth buying. So the three of us were super glammed up and, after consuming lots of vodka and the sneaky little "we're innocent glasses of champagne meant only for fun not for drunk, really, just drink us up like a liquid party, there ya go", we headed to the local bar and stumbled around there to ring in the new year. My snazzy dress made J a little excited to head home, but by that time the cute champagne bunnies had turned into crazed bunny-giants with razor teeth and steel claws stomping around on the polite little vodka squirrels. I shoved toast and water in my face, watched some TV, and hit the hay. The next morning (as I just relayed to Alicia) I woke up with a hangover and J, Krista, and I went to go find breakfast, but every diner had a huge long huge 45 minute huge wait and we were HUNGRY! So we made breakfast: french toast, chocolate croissants, omelettes, bacon ( or as we like to call the morningstar stuff: fakon), orange juice, coffee, biscuits, and brownies. Ok, we got a little carried away, but crissake happy new year!
After new year: lots of sleeping in and staying up late and generally fucking up our chances of getting back on a normal sleep schedule with any amount of ease. We discovered a channel that only plays Law and Order SVU, which is great. Until you get the third show in a row about child molestation, then you want to kill yourself a little bit. J decided that everything is a whole lot funnier if you add a thuggy "Cracker." after everything Ice-T says to a white person. Hell, it's even funny if he says it to a non-white person. Try it, you'll laugh. We also did a puzzle, which literally stole hours from my life. I would sit down, twiddle with a couple pieces, look up, and it would be 3 HOURS LATER. Amazing.
Now: Back to the ol' work. But it's different now that I like my job. It actually feels kinda good to be here. Now, if we could just get the work day started a little later, like say 2pm, I think I might be good for the rest of my life.
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