Feeling a little low this morning after last night's festivities and a phone call this morning, I did what any girl does when feeling under the weather: shop. I used up my remaining iTunes free music to purchase what is arguably one of the best songs ever created: Barbie Girl by Aqua. Picked me right up in a happy bouncy way.
Yesterday was Free Scoop night, had to call my fiancee's.
But this weekend's Strassenfest. I'm so excited about going- I missed it last year, don't know what the hell I was doing that I missed it every night. I went the year before and I think I made out with someone on the walk home, but I'm not entirely sure.
Looking in the mirror, it looks like I have a "Y" ass- the top of my bum comes together as a Y with a flat spot at the top, where you could rest a quarter flat in the top of the Y instead of having to put it on edge to make it stay. But TCB, most definitely, has an "I" ass- nothing interesting about it. Ghani says hers is an I, but thinks Y's are prettier. My roomate's is an I, Little[2]'s is an I, her roommate's is an I, my buddy MT's is an I, but thinks his fiancee's is a Y...
Then, looking though porn and google pictures, I've only found one Y butt example. But I found lots and lots of I butt examples. Is the Y butt less common?
- I gotta poop
- Shh.. My Mom's home
- That's fine, your mom's cute. Invite her in!
- Whoa! Is that normal?
- Never seen ones of those before, and I've seen a lot...
- Ahahahahahaha!!!
- Hey, it looks like a microphone!
- Look, I can make it talk!
- Awww... it's so cute!
- Wish I knew where this rash came from
- Your sister does/has/feels....
- Oh, John! Jason? Jared?? Jimmy?! uhh.. sorry, what's your name, again?
- Hey, what's that smell?
Why do some guys have that "irresistible charm"? You know, that *thing* about them that, when he leans in to kiss you, you can't resist? Your brain screams "no! don't do it!" and yet your body doesn't listen; he can do almost anything to you, you're his little puppet and you like it. You know he's making up stories to tell you that differ 100% from what he tells your best friend but you just don't care. What allows this guy to do that?
Mom: Fitness training should be in your favor plus not smoking or drugs(I hope)
Me: you know, only the hard drugs. it's heroin or nothing for me. and those other injectable drugs
Mom: just don't do any of the hard-to-spell ones like methamphetamine
Mom: or escaxty.
Mom: whatever
In an effort to become just as boring as my thesis-writing boyfriend, I've started reading tech books again. Right now, I'm on Information Architecture: Blueprints for the Web (Wodtke), a really great introduction to IA, explaining all those supposedly set-in-stone rules that the usability gurus try to pass off onto all of us and making me think way more about that subject than I ever thought possible. And improving my designs.
Damn you Ghani, for starting me down this path in high school.
J's Mom saved up her raisin bran box tops to send him a pair of boxers with "Breakfast is Back" written across the butt, which he proudly displayed for us when getting ready for bed, bending over to get anything. Just lovely. Hoping for a pair myself.
I went to a wedding in Cinci this weekend with TCB and met his best friend and his wife, J and S. More nervous about meeting them than about meeting his Mom, it made me feel all knotty inside, hoping that the people most important to TCB agree with his "date the Palila" decision.
I immediately threatened J upon meeting him, telling him I'd kill him in his sleep, was thus accepted into "the club," and then we drank.
Isn't beer lovely?
Google revolutionized the search world in 1998, but their results aren't perfect. Other groups and companies are finding for other ways to search, to help you, the ultimate user, to find more quickly what you want. Wondering who will develop the next big innovation in search, I've checked out some alternatives.
First, there's Nutch, an attempt to create an open source search engine on the basis that other search engines display search results with some kind of ranking, but don't explain what that ranking is. Nutch is out to prevent the Man (commercial search engines) from taking over and turning searching into a paid service.
Next is Namebase, a sort of anti-conspiracy group that collects documents on just about everything, Including Google. This goes right along with GoogleWatch, who targets Google, citing them as Big Brother, trying to build a case that Google's monopoly, algorithms, and privacy policies are undermining the Web.
And then there's Scroogle, a listing of pages missing from google's top 100 search results for a given term since November who encourages you to help end Google Bombing by contacting Google executives.
Dipsie is an unreleased search engine (coming in 2004!) that tries for deep content on sites instead of Google's rather shallow archiving so that you can get to your information within 2 clicks. Their bot crawls the web and re-indexes every 7 days, but you can request a more or less frequent archiving by adding a tag to your page.
Remember AskJeeves? Well, Jeeves is back with a better search thanks to Teoma and their Subject-Specific Popularity. Teoma allows you to refine your search geographically, by date, by a certain phrase, and more. Think that's where I'll search when I've got one line of a song stuck permanently in my head.
My favorite new search engine is Australian-based Mooter, which, after searching, looks at other items on the page and groups results graphically for you. (plus, when searching for SoccerCS, Mooter's description is the Piece of Ass song. What an excellent thing: Oh How I Want a Piece of Ass Piece of...) Mooter's results aren't always top-notch, but you can safely ignore large groups of pages instead of having to filter through all the porn sites yourself.
Along similar lines, Grokker is a piece of software that groups search results from 7 search engines visually. It doesn't actually search, just groups with pretty pictures.
Finally, GoogleWatch has their own search but it's unclear how it works, if it's just Google searching even more simplified. But, it does show SoccerCS as a link on Epsilon Omega Theta's search results for Girls gonewild. YahooWatch has an interesting search that compares Google and Yahoo's results. Missing from Yahoo a search of SoccerCS are both the SoccerCS site and the "Girls gonewild" site, damnit.
Leaving the first Speed team meeting Sunday with TCB, one of the girls wanted to know if Angus was my dog. Told her it was TCB's and, as she pet him, she nervously asked, "Are you a lesbian?"
With TCB standing right behind me.
She seemed so relieved to learn that I don't practice that lifestyle and declared that she'd hang out with me moreso than with "them." Made me wonder if she feels lesbianism's contagious in the shower room.
This weekend, the Cute Boy and I went down to Thunder Over Louisville and to visit (and meet) my Aunt S, Uncle B, and Dad.
Saturday, we hopped up to Bardstown road, walked along the shops, and visited the brewery. (Yum) At the brewery, you can get half gallons of the beer to take home in growlers. TCB already had one, so he had it refilled.
Then we were off to a cookout with AM and her friends at her fiancee's parent's house which was yummy, though we missed the beginning of the airshow with talking. Girl talking. TCB and I were both really glad to leave to get downtown and that AM was driving, since she doesn't drink.
We get downtown and we can see the carriers over the buildings from where we're hooking up with everyone else before finding a place to watch the fireworks. The girls all leave to go look at purses. I stay and drink beer with the boys.
Finally, TCB and I decide to go ahead to the river to watch the airplanes, find an ATM and find a good spot for watching the show. First 24-hour ATM we find has locked doors with next to the 24-hour sign. TCB vows to pee on it, but I suggest waiting until it's dark.
Wander down to the river, try to call AM, all circuits are busy or jammed because of the military flights, end up just the two of us underneath Joe's Crab shack, with beer, fewer people, and short bathroom lines. We meet up with them all afterwards.
Then the fun begins.
AM's not from Louisville and is quite the Kentucky Princess. We're trying to follow some guy, TCB (from Louisville) is trying to give her directions that will actually get her out of town, away from where the cops are directing traffic in circles, and AM's freaking out about the part of town we're in. Loudly. Even with the window's rolled up. Funny until I have to pee.
TCB gets out to go walk around, see where the traffic's going, asks a police officer where a bathroom might be, and is told a few blocks ahead, there's a Winn Dixie. We get out and start walking (much faster than driving) towards a non-existent store. Decide that it's useless to try and find a place that's open at midnight, so nearly go behind a building, but they have a fence.
Find a fast-food shop, but it's carry-out only and have no visible bathroom. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm pregnant I have to go so badly, and think I might try that line if we even find a closed shop with a bathroom in it.
"Excuse me, Can I use your bathroom? I'm 6 months pregnant, this baby's going to start doubling in size every week, and already it's driving me crazy."
Start walking back towards the car and see a church with down stairwells by an intersection that has an inept traffic-directing cop. Utilize the lit stairway while TCB makes a phone call and stands guard. Wander back towards the car much relieved to fin they've only moved a block and AM's still flipping out headache-inducing, high-pitched nonsense Princess-style. The kicker was when she turned off a 'guaranteed to get us out, though not quickly' street for the third time that night, called her fiancee MK (a cop) and wanted to stop at a green light until he figured out where they were. Nearly followed MK's directions, which would have put us in another standstill. Hooray for TCB giving efficient directions!
Get to her house at 1:30, 3 hours after leaving downtown, drive to Aunt S's, I make us martinis and we finish the growler with Dad. Thank goodness we'd gotten that. Oh my laws, what a night.
90% freakout achieved. Mom says I should go to an internist, but this guy's family practice. is there a difference? Calling mom. freaking out. Think I'll just live in a hole the rest of my life. won't have to worry about skin cancer then, right? And I won't have babies. And no smoking. Then I can avoid the doctor altogether. Forever.
I have to make a Dr's appointment. nothing scary, just need to do it while I'm healthy, since nobody wants a sick patient.
Had a small freak-out last night thinking about it, Dr. Ghani suggested a walk or some weed, but went to Dr. Cute Boy's and he prescribed some beer, a shower, and a backrub. That worked.
Will make the appt by 3pm today, so I don't ruin the weekend thinking about it.
After seeing so many girls in high school stick with the jerk of a boyfriend after all the crap that he'd do to her, the Cute Boy told me about his "Dick-In Theory:" that once a guy got his dick in a girl, she was his.
While explaining this a few years later to some friends in college, he turned on the Discovery Channel and the guy there was explaining the same thing, only his had more scientific evidence than jerks in High School, and his stated that there's a physical change in a woman's brain when she decides that she wants to consumate the longer-than-one-night relationship.
But also, women don't always associate desire with arousal, where men intertwine the two.
Men and women do seem to have different responses to "love," with "love" turning on the man's visual processing areas and turning on the the areas of the woman's brain associated with memory recall, emotion, and 'pleasure center.'
This looks like it support's Siendfeld's theory that men get smarter without sex and women get smarter with sex.
I say bring it on. I'm willing to risk my man becoming a blathering idiot.
I went home for Easter Weekend and went to church with Mom and Dad. Our church is an adaptation of the Jubilee Community, which is part of the Otterbien Methodist Church, and we hold service in Johnson City in an art gallery, formerly known as the Ladybug Gallery. In the gallery lives a cat.
I think she enjoys sunday service, since she has a captive audience to pet her and when we have chocolate (like on Easter) we crumble up our wrappers and throw them at her so she can play. During each service, as a silent meditation, we're invited to follow a drum, at first beating loud and quickly, into silence, and easter was no different. The cat wandered around with the drum, meowing softly in beat, and falling down on the last beat, as if she knew, completely relaxing (the point of the excercise) by the end, palms (or paws) up.
Havign spent over 24 hours treveling, thanks to a five hour layover and an hour's delay in New Jersey, I returned and found the Cute Boy waiting for me with a "Welcome Back Sack" of all things American: Mini-baseball bat (Louisville Slugger,) White Castles, and a 6-pack of Bud Lite.
Today we adventured out and actually got our hairs cut, Ghani and I. We found this shop called Athena with a special on Monday and Tuesdays, and made the appointment. Showed up at 1:30, and she took one look at my hair and rescheduled me to where she could take an hour to do it. So at 4, we showed back up and I had it all cut off. Ghani ended up as a cute little french girl, and I ended up with a lot less hair. Only slightly Farrah Fawcett, in the best sense of the term.
Now I'm back off to Indiana, with a cab ordered for 5:45, though Ghani claims I'm not really leaving, and can sleep on the air mattress. Apparently, I hog the covers too much to continute to sleep with her. And something about my big ass taking over every square inch of the bed. Is it really my fault if my half happens to be near the middle?
Yesterday, Kara and I set out to climb Arthur's Seat, and in the process, got rained upon, had the sunshine, and were pelted with hail. And nearly blown off the hill. We started off with Calton Hill, a lovely place, if overrun with French tourists. Took pictures, walked around, then made our way back to Princes street to lunch at the BK Lounge. Ahhh, Whoppers and Coke.
Next, we set off to find Arthur's Seat- not an easy task to locate a huge fucking hill, but we prevailed, and started up. We soon realised, after the first rain and hail, that we weren't actually climbing the right hill. After going around this first hill, we found ourselves faced with the Stairs of Doom: steep, twisting stairs that didn't even go halfway up the hill. Hiked around, got to halfway, and the wind picked up like crazy. Made our way up to the top top of the Seat, and then it started to hail. And the wind really began to blow. Had to climb down before getting blown off.
Once we found an easy way down it, without using the Stairs of Doom, we decided the next stop should definitely be a pub. The best ending to a hike: watching Fit Farm in a pub with a pint.
Later, we (Ghani, Kara, and Dougie) went to Medina, a sort of "ethnic" club with beds instead of chairs. Have to be careful, though. The first one we sat in smelled like pee.
Well, our success last night, wasn't.
Started off at one pub, got cheap beer (note:Tennants tastes like miller lite) and Ghani had two takers: one police officer drinking pina coladas, he was a bust once his wife returned and a software developer with an exceedingly flat face. No free drinks.
Moved to another where the bloke next to me kept leaning over and telling me I was gorgeous, but he was very drunk, I couldn't undertand a word he said beyond "I don't mean to be cheeky, but you're gorgeous." and it looked like he was out with his parents.
Then got smacked on the ass on hte way back to the bathroom. smacked back, he asked why, told him fair is fair.
His next question?
"If I go down on you, does that mean you'll go down on me too?"
How can I argue with that logic, if I've set up the precedent? Then he started for my pants, I told him to 'find me later' and we left to a pub with whiskey-flavored condoms inthe bathroom, but the machine was jammed so we couldn't find out if their advertising was correct. Disappointed again.
Today was shopping day. Shopped our way up to Princes Street, starting with the thrift stores. Ended up with several items:
1 green purse
1 blue top
1 pink top
2 multicoloured bras
1 short blue skirt
Also got the 'family deal' at Pizza Hut for lunch (family of 4). Between the three of us girls, we finished off garlic bread, chicken wings, a large pizza and a medium pizza. Having salad for dinner.
And then off to the royal mile, with the deal that we each wear something we'd bought today and see how many drinks we can have bought for us.
Well, I'm alive, wonderfully unhungover, and not too jetlagged. Plane trips were... fun. Nothing special.
When I got here, Ghani and Kara and Georgette met me and we went out to a pub for some fish and chips (YUM!) and then to Ghani's (still dark and dripping) flat to get ready to meet the boys for drinking at the student union for some cheaper beer (price, not quality) and toasting my sucessful gain of unemployment. Talked to a guy about the business for a long time, and they decided my optimism and enthusiasm was great.
Left to go to a club called Snatch (I can't believe we went to a club called Snatch.) and became dancing fools with £1 drinks. I was happy about the weightlifting, since I could drop it like it's hot often and well. Then around the town looking for an open chippie (they'd all closed early, fuckers.) Ended up with macaroni cheese from a gas station to cook at Dave's.
Must say, spooning with your best friend is a great way to end an evening of drinking, dancing, and talking.
