End of Days

From: Butter
Sent: Friday, August 31, 2007 1:16 PM
To: Mendacious
Subject: Bye, Bye!

Thanks for everything, Cashew. I appreciate all your hard work and, more importantly, you introducing me to the green tea latte. I hope we can work together again. I’ve got your info, so we’ll try and make that happen. Take care…

Butter-

one more day

on this my last thursday of employment, hopes were riding high of soon to be employed again. however when my favorite EP's bread and butter are pessimistic about when that might be i became a deflated balloon drifting and limping against the wall, colored vaguely in bad flourescent lighting. And i hate dealing in a world of what ifs. what if the hole was patched, what if i got new helium infusions. what if we came back in november, but more likely it might be january. what if a miracle occured. what if bread and butter got another gig and let us run away with them. we've dropped enough hints and okay, overt statements to that effect. i will send my usual round of emails.

the concrete world of what IS : my job ends tomorrow. i do not know what the future holds. i have bills. it's really hot in the valley right now with my mostly non a/c'd assage. blah. in the world of what usually happens: i make lists, make art, panic, then find something eventually ... this is nothing new. but as usual i wish it'd turned out just a little bit different.

(disappointing?) signs of age

1. I don't like as much syrup on my waffles anymore.

2. I'm not watching the show "Greek."

3. I have no problem yelling at other people's kids in the store. If they're doing something stupid and no one else is paying attention, admonition falls right out of my mouth. I don't even consider it bold, just more like second nature.

(comforting?) signs of retained youth

1. The movie I want to see most in the theater right now is Superbad.

2. I still enjoy the Muppets as much as when I was 4.

3. I still buy special Vacation Snacks that aren't allowed to be opened until on the trip. Makes it more like Christmas. Although I really want to tear into those Gummy Bears today.

letters to myself.

i took that thing we did senior year in HS just a little too seriously. so every 5 years i write myself a letter. so far i've met myself being uncanny, too-talkative and melodramatic, spot-on and possibly much too vague. my friend danica was intrigued. so i finally after months of harassment have fished them out of the paper binder bin in the back of my closet. letter 3 can't be opened until summer '09, and i think i should maybe write letters to myself with a little more frequency and maybe with a little more concrete detail. things i ran across and decided to throw out last night: star/planets finder booklet (but no starchart), handfuls of letters from my then BFF kelly who after a time revealed how little she knew me- but all those letters pre-internet, those must have meant something but i reluctantly threw them away circa 94-99 but kept a couple. also thrown away: letters from laudie, kristen, erin, miscellaneous articles about tea, and the crow problems in japan. things saved: letters from matt, letter where i absolotely go postal on ex-friend ethan, an essay on hope written by my brother, report cards, college papers- my favorite quote: "a loose, rough draft, of a very very good paper." hee. i love school. i miss it so. also, beginnings of penelope/mendacious dialoguing circa 2001, dreaded thesis paper i refuse to look at (7 years later), and playbills collected since 1989.

all of this would normally leave me with a swarming sense of pathos, but mainly it's like i've just eaten a good piece of chocolate. i want more, the taste was good but lingering, have too much and you'll get sick, so walk away now while you're satisfied.

Return of the Gourd

It's a more of an early harvest of our prized gourds. Apparently not only prized by us but by the nursery behind our house. We'd marked one gourd on the fence, as in hey jackholes, we know it's here so don't take it. Like when they harvested one of our prized cinderella pumpkins. last year. Lame. So of course we come out saturday morning and its gone. And of course I hop the fence on sunday to see what i can tit-for-tat before church. But there wasn't anything i wanted. Then i see all the other gourds they could've taken besides the only one we knew about- and all this hacking of vines and picking of gourds made me late for church. which only in in LA in my particular life would that be the thing to make me late on top of the parents taking the car to breakfast. I'm fairly sure i wiped all the dirt off myself before the service but i can't be sure i got all the leaves.Otherwise in an unprecedented move i spent the entire weekend drinking. Which is a bit of a novelty for me. but when you've got grand marnier and tequila and lime just waiting for you in a cooler and a new blender... how can you say no?

Drink tally:

Friday: 5 margaritas (10+ shots) riding high.

Saturday: 1 margarita (2 shots) feeling it.

Sunday: 2 margaritas (5 shots) authentically sauced.

lull: how it goes

Weekend diet: delightfully abysmal, hopefully temporary. Included McD's, Sonic burger and shake, Dunkin Donuts, Chips Ahoys, and lots of Coke. Yum.

This week's plan: pack for trip, purchase few travel toys for Bug (suggestions welcome), make sure airline guidelines followed to T, try not to think about possible air sickness (bleh).

Books: vow to finish The Golden Compass by Monday or Tuesday, pick up I am Charlotte Simmons from library, hope it reads faster. Although TGC is v. good. They're severing childrens' souls!

Tonight's dinner: chicken stir-fry.

Writing: don't forget about the tub of butter.

Mendacious: sign of a good friend, completely indulging my affection for horrible girl movies, mailing me free copy of The Wedding Planner.

Bug: says "no" with the same intonation, passion, as the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, in the scene where John Corbett is all like, Well, can I date your daughter, then? Nooo! Either the father sounds like a toddler, or the Bug sounds like an old Greek man; either way, I find it incredibly endearing.

Also: she is learning to wipe her mouth with a napkin and use a fork.

Target trip: hopefully tomorrow, sans K.Lo? This will depend on J.Lo's nighttime cooperation. Oh and I need new shoes, must go to shoe store.

Kermit T. Frog, reporting live: was on a recent ep of Sesame Street! They haven't done away with him, as originally conjectured.

Outside: plants so crispy, I had to throw out a lot. Every summer, this makes me mad.

Rocky Balboa: I am a fan.

all I've got are Bug pictures

I'm becoming as bad as those people who only post videos... I know. Mendacious is going to put me on one of her lists soon. But, m, just remember I'm an Angry Preggo, I could make a list of my own.

xoxo,
preemptive pen


Pic 1: How Bug entertains herself, walking around with a skirt on her head. Future bank robber? Possibly. Charming little weirdo I'm so proud of? Definitely.








Pic 2: Dear Future and Inevitably Harassed Pen,
Please refer back to this photo before you chuck her. Look how cute.

xo,
pen zen

FTA: Diary Excerpts for Bruckner

• Dear Diary, I am having a meltdown of somekind. Perhaps cough syrup and ... some unknown tour de force has sent my heart racing into a panic...
• DD, Cat is licking me. And endlessly distracting. It was a good day. Baptisms. Food. Friends. Everything seemed infinitely possible.
• DD, My breakdowns are much more quiet now. The thought even occurs that it would be nice to never return to work...
• DD, Today I have .52c in my acct. .81c on my CC. Today I cannot sleep. Today I think of all the unfinished things. Today I hunger. I will fix myself a small salami sandwich.
• DD... I applied japanese blossoms shea butter.
• ...writing by the light of the tv. i ate horribly all day. When all i really wanted was oatmeal and a salad. FUCK. but despite the broken chairs and the cakes i have in all of my most recent memories never wanted to be anyone else but me.
• Why is impatience so paralyzing? It holds you fixed at a yawning cavernous abyss!
• A young boy named Ali from Mexico sits eating molly's fries while reading his graphic novels. He does this everyday...
• DD, should I be by a great and unruly river- in a place of abundance by a jungle, just one step without leads me to a sea of burning sand, so quick to ruin, in such a place and so much redeemed: and so loved that i seek the desert's quiet.
• I want that fresh blue light smell of a clear dripping wet morning and the breeze like a sweet scented exhale (of god which soothes) and all of it sparkling heavenward, grasping but can't reach.
• DD, no one at the desk but a funny man who doesn't know the right extension. Says I should go get a drink. Meant that in the alcoholic sense.
• roving apprehension. something forgotten, undone?
• this great expanse leaves her bereft. alone... long to be touched.
• You came to me and told me to meet you.
• DD... of a conspiracy to strip me of my belief in god- i spend most moments slamming the dor but it permeates the room anyway- that i am alone. without and surrendered to a pitiable slick of despair in our condition- in our life and death- and then nothing- to weep for young and all old to be wrecked by circumstance. who have the misfortune to live and best unawares. it becomes palpable and it is hard fight within and remember otherwise.
• ...i met with god and how in all my arsenal of words can i describe how simply he dwelled. not beside but in every bit.fiber. seemed distinct and unified and vibrating and weightless. cyntrifical heart heavy and hot with all that is how it can be-
• guilt is an ugly feeling. conviction goes forward despite you. it is a presence and takes you with it.
• ... I lay here waiting for you and i know its true.... I'll go, i just wanted to say I don't understand it. But i feel it. Want to be clean of it. Want to be taken up in something whole and pure.
• DD:... all my molecules. hum. tensed.hand cramping. don't know how much more i can write with it doing that.
• Dear Diary: It is. 84 degrees (facing North) Topless, with black bottoms. undeniably hot.
• DD: Feeling slightly poisoned. So really despite what i should, did tell you, i should go to bed.

notes

hormones: volatile, frustrating

patience level: improving, slowly

sciatica: not so bad today

new leg contour pillow: helping sciatica?

impending trips, weddings to attend: 1

diet: mostly M&Ms

heartburn: ever-present, probably not helped by M&M diet

N.Lo: head down, heartbeat good

OB receptionists: lots of makeup but friendly, one dumber than box of rocks

OB toilets: all clogged, GROSS.

wachovia: phenomenally stupid, shall soon feel my wrath

TV: boring

book: good, but slow...

writer's group submission: begun?

l.'s baby: born! and very cute.

bug: eating a pickle

dinner tonight: pork chops

Wednesday

It's time to talk about work again. Though i feel having put up with me at work, working for the last 5months, you've heard very little about it. It's the utter lack of drama. Just now for instance i spaced out until my eyes blurred and everything came back into focus with the feeling that if i were to just drop my head and close my eyes everything would be okay. It's a tempting proposition.

what can i say

Guys, Guys, Guys...

All my cousins are guys. (Well except for the last one, 18 yrs too late, and she from what i hear is just a sad wee sheeple). And it puts me pretty well in the middle. 8 yrs, 6yrs, 5yrs older, 3 1/2 yrs, 6 yrs younger, 18yrs... Guys. Guys-guys. Mechanics. Sports loving. Construction. Salt of the earth type guys. And my brother... So needless to say i'm used to guys. I find their presence familiar and comforting, which i think is why, among just wanting a guy for myself, and liking guys- generally, besides how irritating they can sometimes be- is why i was so happy to be working with so many guys. Which means I get to hear most everything about their dating habits, philosophies on life, movie tastes, not-so secret obsessions with star wars... and whatever. when my cousin came over on sunday he went off about girls- girls and their games. because he said, they all play games. then i get the boys in the office, as told by the only married one among them, that they at 30'something were even questioning if they should pay on the first date or how many times should they pay? and that taking her to a crappy restaurant on the first date tests how shallow she might be- and this one guy was from the south and i'm thinking? isn't that ingrained gentlemanly conduct? is it now passe? when i first met pen's soon to be (week 3 of their relationship) i felt like a lady-in-waiting. he paid for both of us a couple of times and i thought this guy is amazing. though weird to be a 3rd wheel so early into things. but anyway, my cousin talked about having to build up some sort of rust coating in regard to women and their fickle flake like attentions, how he gets numbers but never dates, how in some sense he has to be persistent and overcome and be an asshole bcs girls dont like nice guys... and all this talk has left me sort of going huh? it leaves me feeling like a clueless guy who has no idea of the ways of women... and then i think none of the women i know behave in these game running ways... and then i think maybe everyone should relax a little and stop thinking strategies... bcs the right one is rarely found thru this sort of herculean effort. but he doesn't think of me as a woman. which maybe is part problem part comfort. that he doesn't consider the way i am to be the ways of women he knows- so it seems unfortunate to be around all these boys and not be a voice of women bcs then i'm not like them am i, however they are?! i don't.get.it. anyway this post has lost control of itself. no conclusions but confusion. perhaps there is us and there is them... and all those dating books, relationship books shouldve been read over common sense. i know not. whatever happened to timing? and luck and a little knowhow. anyway back to 'youtube' videos.

peace. m.

Weekend Wrap Up

Friday: We made it to "Streetcar Named Desire". I was suffering under fatigue, discovered later, intestinal malaise. Tragic. Spent moments frustrated, calm, interested, and enjoying. Highlights: Dark chocolate, pomegrante martini.

Saturday: Finished AnneofGreenGables. Spent moments feeling as if somebody was going to die, went looking around for things to give away. Wondered what exactly i was looking for. Went and saw "Superbad"... it.was.a.good.time. Hi-larious. Do not remember anything else.... besides my cat Marley.
Sunday: Photo spectacular. I could not, would not, leave the house. I worked in the yard. Did chores. Communed. Mom discovered this:

Then: in unprecedented productivity i was able to check this off my list (hovering there since winter?)

And then for gusto I made this A-line skirt- needs some fixin but mostly pretty good:

THEN my cousin came over and talked my ear off for 4+ hours. He tried to get me to be spontaneous. With only 5 minutes notice. i said, NO: (i had a skirt to sew and mom had sock monkeys to make. . . so he came over and talked all sorts of talk. And we sewed. And he talked. And I talked, sipped water and by the end of the night, god love him, totally said: now, i have to get to bed, get the fuck out. Which he did but only after 1/2 hour transition to the door and now i am at work, near unconscious- but it had to have been a good time. Bcs that's what the pictures tell me.

........

only my high school class

Would have an 11th Year Reunion. Way to get it together, guys! Sadly, I will not be able to attend. If I were actually able to travel a long distance approximately 3 weeks before I'm to have this baby, I would be going to Ohio, for Kim's wedding, a markedly preferrable event.

So sorry. But have a good time!

Sincerely Yours,
penelope, aka
Band Geek
All A's
Quiet Girl
Pretty Uncool
2 useless but not entirely regrettable higher education degrees
Housewife
Mom of 1, another on the way
2 dogs
10 minutes from beach
1 great husband
Some absolutely invaluable friendships
Mostly sane
Blogger chick
Ah, you won't miss her...
And I'm all right with that.

thoughts for today.

1. it's hot out there.
2. i want to memorize a poem and recite it. any suggests?
3. i'm waiting for 4 books to come from amazon.
4. depositing check is absolutely essential.
5. the 2 people i've told i'm going to see 'street car named desire' have both said: "i hope it's a good production"... this makes me nervous, stella!!!!! the problem is i know stella, so there's no getting out of it and i'm going with friends.
6. my new shoes are awesome. almost but not quite as awesome as my red ones.
7. we should all dress up to do '80's air guitar riffs just because.
8. anne of greengables makes me want run thru a field of poppies.

reporting live from the world of Bug

K.Lo's changing so fast these days, I feel the need to document certain developments, interests, and obsessions du jour:

• new food: pickles, dill, must be whole
• impressive vocab: waffle, puzzle, flower, color, owl, please
• gesture: says, "owww" when giving high five
• big trouble: likes to stand on precarious furniture, do a little a dance
• also: dribbles juice down front for kicks, inevitably warrants shirt change, thinks it's all very hilarious
• balancing act: takes special care to hold bowl filled with snack with both hands while carrying to next room
• the potty: has had for 2 days and actually shown some interest, done a little business
• teeth: currently 2 molars and 2 incisors are cutting through
• literature: Muppet Babies "Be Nice" book, seek and slide animal book
• voices: dog, cat, cow, sheep, duck, horse, pig,
• night-night: no longer melts down at the mere suggestion of this phrase; blows kisses, announces it cheerily, takes initiative in walking down the hall to the Bug Bed
• fan club: ELMO, of course, though branching out to the likes of Dora and Blue, as well as the larger Muppet family (yay)
• lyrics: working on desperate yet adorable rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"; so far has, "Up-uh-ba...hiii," which she sings the whole day through

filters

Not Enough: It seems that one my favorite blogger/life activities is pondering/cataloguing personal pet peeves. Well, here is another: People who lack any ability to edit themselves when speaking. Speech (unless you're giving one) is not by nature a perfect form, and we all have moments where we wish we could have said more, or less, or simply said it better. And, you know, I suppose the people who cannot edit themselves at all may not be aware of the problem, or that it is a problem... but it is. My eyes glaze over and my mind insantly numbs up in the presence of a person who cannot exclude each and every uninteresting mundanity from each and every conversation. Blah. (Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.) I have a sort-of friend that I have been hanging out with less and less and am considering--all right, I'll be honest, I am decided--that I simply cannot hang out with the individual anymore, and this Lack of Filtering is a big factor. That, and the fact that not much else makes up for the time-killing burble to redeem the friendship. Sad, but true. (Again, dear readers: It's Not You.)

Let's Hope So: My parents' neighbors are quite crunchy and in many ways over-the-top with the lifestyle. Of diet, of occupation, the stories are alternately intriguing and apalling. Anyway, my mom relayed to me that R. takes an old 40-gallon pickle barrel to a spring and fills it for his drinking water. The black barrel sits out on his porch, covered, yes, but festering in this god-forsaken heat. Allegedly, R. runs the water through some sort of filter before drinking it, but seriously? Does it take a scientist to know that a dark container of untreated water sitting out in the heat is a veritable breeding ground for heaven knows what? No, no it does not. E.Coli, dysentary, and mosquito larvae immediately spring to my own mind, before I become completely ill and must move on. Oh, and the water, according to R., does taste vaguely of pickles. I guess as long as it's natural.

Undecided: Pick up any parenting book or magazine dealing with the topic of little ones, and you will probably read that so far as language development goes, it helps your baby from the very get-go to "narrate" your day. I mean... I just think you have to do what you are comfortable with, and not feel guilty about it. I am not a Big Talker. Of course I talk to K.Lo and show her things, let her know what I'm doing if she's interested, but it's as it comes up. And especially now that she is actually walking around, picking up new words every day, and generally acting more and more like a little person, the "narration" naturally comes more into play. Do I feel like she is behind the learning curve, though, because from Day 1 I didn't barrage the little lump of baby flesh in my arms with all the, um, mundanites (see: "Not Enough," above) of Mommy's existence? Hell, no. I listen to other mommies in stores, at story hour, etc, and as they prattle on about walking up the stairs and sitting down in their chairs, I kind of feel like jamming kabob skewers into my eardrums just so I don't have to listen to the sing-song anymore. Some people, it comes natural to, and if you're a Chatty Cathy and that's just the way you are, hey, you do how you do. But I feel like there is a lot of neurotic tension underlying much of the extraneous baby babble out there, an internal hand-wringing that says, OMG, if I don't tell the baby all of what's happening every moment of the day, then she won't learn her words fast enough, and she'll be behind the curve, and her Baby Resume will be spare and she won't get into the right preschool, much less the right college, and everyone'll think I'm a Bad Mommy, and, and, and... Relax, Chicken Little. I'm pretty sure it will be all right.

Too much: Again, speech is not perfect, and not being a Big Talker, I simply don't have as much practice, so maybe the woulda-coulda-shoulda-said-it feeling hits harder, festers with me longer. I'm also Tres Sensitivo, so that could be it as well. As I get older and allegedly wiser, I've gotten better at avoiding the Fester. I mean, who cares, right? Let them say what they will, because they will regardless. I guess I just wish, after all, that I weren't so easily disarmed, so almost too quick to filter. K.Lo had her 18-month checkup last week, for instance, and when the doctor asked what kinds of foods she's eating, I told him, vegetables, but not fruit. Milk. And... not much else. Meat? Not really, it's kind of hard for her to chew. And so then he says, while making A Note in K.Lo's chart, So she's basically just eating vegetables and carbs? Well geez, when you put it that way. It didn't sound quite right when he said it, and ever since, I've been thinking about all the foods I coulda-shoulda have mentioned, but didn't. I always leave out hot dogs, because society seems to consider them foul, but actually, hello, they are, for better or worse, meat. Also, while not consistently, she has eaten: bacon, chicken, a little bit of hamburger here and there. Not to mention eggs, and fish. The kid's even had lobster bisque a few times, oddly enough, and shrimp. Anyway, speaking of extraneous, boring information... I guess I just wish I were more okay with what the doctor recorded, because I live with the kid, I feed her, I know she eats more than veggies and carbs, and oh yeah, who cares. Talk about neurotic internal hand-wringing; I'd like to slap my own wrists to cease it, and move on.

you know what Jonathan says

It is all about great hair.

Into the Woods

so my next foray into weirdness was with sarah. she gave me an appropriate weeklong notice. and i usually can never turn down the promise of food with friends. that is one of my weaknesses no doubt. I picked a french cafe with a follow up cafe that looked good too. it was a warm evening and i was still wearing my woolish trousers- think mistake. think sweaty hot pressure cooker. and my cute new shoes. . . we walked. cafe flore closed at 5. we walked. cafe meet me was no more. we walked and walked. stopped. and walked some more. cafe delice's umbrellas were folded in sleep. and we walked and walked. hang in there feet. and walked. and i began to sigh as we passed coco's, jack 'n box, that burger joint on the corner, papa johns, 5 sushi restaurants and one thai house... but that's when things got interesting. (the little dishes below i was convinced we'd get charged for if we ate them... what is it with foreign countries serving you things you did not order and then charging you for them if you eat them... bcs that's what happened to us in turkey...it's like false advertising or something)

the last cafe on the list of cafes to try, was on pico past robertson blvd. deep in the heart of west LA. beverly hills adjacent. and as i said on the phone the 'pit of la'... the nice part i said... to my mom who can never hear me... for we wandered into a strictly jewish neighborhood. having just read 'girl meets god'- about a woman who converted to strict jewish orthodoxy to christianity, their culture was more fresh in mind... i know we have lots of jewish people in LA but i can't say that i know many, if any even as friends, and i never go where they are if that makes sense, having my home in the barrio, that surrounds me for miles. seeing signs in spanish is a much more common occurance than hebrew as far as the eye can see. the girls getting food to go at the cafe were wearing plain clothing, skirts down to the ankles, sleeves to the wrists and eyeing us askance and the servers barely glanced our way as we looked over the menu. i thought- this place is definitely better approached by day...

i voted for the mediterranean restaurant we'd passed a few blocks down. (above a really tasty pita with grilled chicken)... she said, okay and all our cafe dreams went floating up into ether. on the way back we saw the guys wearing white shirts and hats with the curls, then less, then guys with the little circle hats on top, then less, but still lots of hebrew and it seemed barely one non-jewish person around, not those clubtypes, those up and comer LA types....not a one. and the phrase 'set apart' popped into my head alot. and exclusivity. culture. difference. different country. being a tourist in your own town... and spying a place called 'the nut house'... we really wanted to go to, to get dessert. the mediterranean place while slightly less hostile had the air of being overseas, a sign for something about shabbot services in the window, everyone looking vaguely like one big family but you. the waitresses all scowled except for one who smiled a lot and seemed pleased when i said the food was really good. they did not give us refills on water. they did not seem to appreciate that we'd never been there before but despite all that the food was AMAZING. and i smiled as talvuk shnitzel was on the menu (a fav dish in turkey. totally going back for it) and lots of things involving eggplant and i felt properly in another country... so we walked back, my legs stiffening. my shoes beginning to rebel after the 3mile break in session... a slight limp developing in my left foot... but we shuffled on. and left having had a really good time. thanks sarah! it was completely memorable! i recommend it to anyone... bring a friend, some good shoes, and walk on thru to places you've never been. Worth everypenny and possibly a blister or two.

PSA: Hershey Kiss Truffles

Hersheys has come out with a lot of filled kisses the past few years, and I've been sufficiently impressed: caramel, coconut, peanut butter. It's all good times. But now the kisses come in truffle form, "wrapped," as they say, in either milk or dark chocolate. They are fabulous.

On sale now at Target for approx $2.25/bag. Go get you some.

tv: heating up

First, may I begin with a love letter to Netflix.

Dear Netflix,

Thank you for making an unprecedented clerical error yesterday in thinking that I have already returned Weeds: Season 2, Disc 1. In actuality, the disc was still in our DVD player, watched, yes, but not at your return facility. However, your mistake means that we will receive Disc 2 all the more quickly, which is super, because Season 2 is really fantastic. I especially enjoy Conrad.

P.S. I did mail in Disc 1 yesterday, so no one should get in too much trouble.

xo,
pen


Second, while it's not yet the Fall 2007 Primetime Season (but soon!), some better shows are returning to the airwaves, upgrading TV from its former Snoozefest status. Now it's not just Top Chef, Last Comic, Big Love, and Flight of the Conchords. May I recommend:

The Real World, Sydney: This season there's a girl named Parisa who appears (so far) to have a few IQ points... I know, it's astonishing. While KellyAnne is smoking hot, she's whiny and high maintenance, and I am totally rooting for Parisa in the house Bitch Battles. I just hope she doesn't get sick of the shallow scene before her and comes back for challenges.

The Hills: After last season ended, I was a little turned off in reading about Heidi's latest adventures in pop singing and boobage increase. Lame. I know, the whole show is really kind of lame, but I can't help myself. I love Whitney. I kind of love Audrina, too. And although Spencer the Giovanni Ribisi Knockoff is such a Pratt I want to come through the screen and jam both thumbs into his eye sockets, his proposal wasn't too shabby... hell, it's so not going to last. Nor will Lauren and Jason--ugh, are you kidding me?? Are they really going to get back together? Sigh. Lo, talk some sense into her.

***
All right, this short list is pretty horrible, but alas. It's something. The Fall Season quickly approaches, and if we're lucky, more shows will prove themselves worthy, make the TV week a little more fun and interesting. Tim Gunn, I'm counting on you!

A Long Day into Night

It takes a real friend (beth: 17 yrs), confident in your love of them, to badger you for 9 minutes before you agree to go with them. And I don't agree to go anywhere usually. Especially not without advance notice. 6 hours is not advance notice. Nor is the subsequent call 6 hours later, saying you gave me advance notice and why as a friend you hate me bcs i'm not spontaneous. And I almost nearly got mad. But since Amber (9yrs) was already over and she seemed ambivilant i was like, okay fine, we'll go to your watermelon festival. For an hour. 2 hours later the place is closing down. We've had our churro and cotton candy... ridden the superslide and bumper cars... and found almost no sign of watermelon related activities- besides of course the free watermelon and the spitting contest... but you know, we were there and though no watermelon margaritas were there or watermelon ice cream or free watermelon face painting i had a good time- mainly bcs of the flashing lights and my awesome phone camera... night mode, with light, macro, panorama, rapid fire... it was amazing. oh and of course the company of friends.