Like I'm 12 years old.

I can't help it.

Bad things.

I moved recently. I hate moving. This is not an earth-shattering statement, a particularly unique one, or a particularly surprising one.

But.

Man, I fucking hate moving.

Bum will tell you I have a lot of stuff. A lot of stuff. A truly astounding amount of stuff I can't bear to be parted from and have managed to tuck into teensiest corners of my apartment. It's a talent. (Plus I truly believe tiny apartment elves come out while I sleep and make. more. stuff.)

So to get all this stuff home (yes, I'm temporarily living with my parents while crap gets sorted out. Not in the basement, and I have no game consoles or black lights.), I rented a U-Haul truck.So here's the thing. They don't really ask you any questions about what you will be doing with said truck. You make a reservation, you pay with a credit card, you drive away with a truck. For 24-hours. All yours to do with as you want. What if I wasn't moving? What if I wanted to do bad things in the back of the U-Haul? Huh? Like a roving meth lab? Or a roving, tiny brothel? Or a roving band of bandits wandering the Pennsylvania highways? What kinds of bad things?

Lots of bad things.

What would your bad thing be?

I know!

Life summary.

Now

Now, I've been thinking I really should have woken up earlier to work on my thesis.

Now, I've been thinking that having a "late lunch" shouldn't mean eating your first meal of the day at 325pm.

Now, I've been thinking it would be nice if Fanny were here in my town so I could drag her to watch a film/hang out and do something this evening.

Now, I've been thinking the day has turned out lovely (bright sunshine, a cool breeze) and I'm sat indoors writing on the computer.

Now, I've been thinking I should have accepted the BBQ invite I got a few hours back (instead of the dinner invite I ended up deciding on)

Now, I've been thinking that three years is too long not to see my parents.

Now, I've been thinking I should really get off my arse and start doing some daily exercise (and not just lift pint glasses as I watch soccer).

Now, I've been thinking I should confess I voted for American Idol on Tuesday.

Now, I've been thinking this list is getting too bloody long and yet I have lots of things I could add to it.

But not now.

Now, I reckon I'll go sit outside in the backyard for a few moments and will do the daily crossword.

(almost) friday frivolity: no more football

So, the English Premiership season is over. Liverpool, as always, didn't challenge for the title, lost in the semis of the Champions League and are in the midst of uncertainty about what's happening with their owners (who are fighting among themselves).

But, there's hope. Here's Xabi Alonso giving his opinion on quite a few things. I love the furrowed brow look and the confusion over "mushy peas or gravy"

Friday Frivolity: Google love.

These make me giggle. And waste time. Two very excellent things, and like a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, even better together.

Type in the terms in the Google search box, hit "I'm Feeling Lucky."

• google pirate
• google ninja
• google light
  
• elgoog
• google goth
  
• google emo (This one is for the Bum.)
• google black
• google fudd
• google pig latin
• google 1337
• google linux
• google redneck
• google klingon
• google easter egg
  
• google chuck norris

There are some others of questionable taste. Will not add those here. No Hello Kitty one yet.

Yet.

Best. Thing. Ever.

Everyone knows I love The Hills, right? I've moved past my secret shame, my self-mocking shame, my cultural zeitgeist shame, and right into whole-hearted, affectionate love. Don't judge me.

So tonight was the finale. Which is a bizarre concept because who has finales of lives? Also, who makes such poor decisions in their lives?

Anyway.

There was a commercial for this (from Broadcasting & Cable):

MTV plans Exiled!, an eight-episode documentary series that will ship the mini-divas from its Super Sweet 16 series to indigenous tribes in far-off lands like Africa and Antarctica for the chance -- their parents hope -- of gaining an altered world view.

Basically, this seems like a big Fuck you, Princess.

I cannot wait. (Squueeeeeeee)

My fervent wish is that this will maybe be the beginning of an antidote to the materialistic, fame-mongering, elitist, unexamined life attitude that's so disturbingly pervasive (and please don't take this as proselytizing. Remember: I adore The Hills).

My dread is that this project will make these people look like jack-asses who manage to offend people around the world and objectify other world cultures into sideshows.

I live in hope.

even mermen sing his praises

I'm not entirely sure this will work but I hope it does...

"I thought that little swimsuit had you written all over it"



I did think of putting in either Fanny or my picture but Mr. Firth works much better, I reckon!

Uuuhhh..

I did a Google Image search for "pig tails." My original intent was to write about how my favorite way to wear my hair is in this style (keeps the difficult bangs back the best, suits my face shape the best):

But am sadly stymied as 1) is exceedingly unprofessional and 2) being Asian with a young-ish face seems to make the pervs come a'runnin' when I'm so coiffed.

But didn't realize a search would yield naked picture after naked picture.

There are a lot of naked women out there.

In pigtails.

Um...

STRANGE OLD LYSOL AD

Am very disturbed by this. Makes me cross my legs.

Methinks it may be the expression on the man's face. Really? He's all about the Lysol-ed parts? That has got to be some specific fetish.

I bet there's a chat room for it.

Good at counting.

Truly. I get caught up in doing what people tell me to do. Ruled by my superego and need to let the id out to play more. If I ascribed to that kind of stuff. And even though my CBT heart cries out against it, I totally do. Freud is such a cheeky bastard (and I never knew his middle name was Schlomo. Kind of liking him a little more now).

I've been a bad blog parent, as Bum has gently reminded me. The neglect is shameful. All my energy has been spent on fighting off a cold (which I've been kind of successful at. Though I think I may be OD-ing on B-12, Vitamin C and zinc), panicking about my dissertation and then panicking again about a huge presentation I have to give at work. With PowerPoint. In front of people. With eyes. Who will ask questions. That I will have to answer. And not run off crying. Or swearing. Or using rampant italics.

I'm just not comfortable with that.

in which I'm a year older

and yet not much wiser.

Spring break is half over and I've not done much of what I thought I'd have done. That means you, dear reader(s), will have to remain unentertained and/or go elsewhere for your "fun fix" for the next few days. I have two papers to finish (for a conference I'm headed off to in less than ten days), 30-some papers to grade and a journal issue to send off to the publishers.

Of course, spring has chosen this time to make itself known and it's difficult to get things done when it's 60 degrees Fahrenheit out there and people are frolicking in the streets.

One thing though: as I was sat on the metro this morning, I noticed a chap in the seat across me was reading this. I find it intriguing and wonder whether he reckons his sister is a werewolf (ontologically-speaking) or whether he wants to understand whether she is a werewolf and, if so, how to study her (epistemology).

I suppose I should get back to write those papers.

in which i admire a youthful actor

"admire" being the operative word here. It's rather strange since I often favour tall, strapping types or at least those types of blokes who look as though shaving is something that other, lesser folks do that I have found every one of this chap's films (well, his acting rather than the films) fantastic.

Today, I went and saw Penelope. It feels a bit disjointed and, perhaps, should be a bit longer than it is but for a nice break in the midst of a very busy week, it was all right. It's framed as a fairy tale-ish fantasy rather than reality and that makes it work better than it shoud. I was watching James McAvoy and his utter ordinariness and (rather good, I reckoned) American accent and realised that he has the ability to make kissing a post (*cough* Keira Knightley in Atonement and Anne Hathaway in Becoming Jane *cough*) an act laden with chemistry.

He was the best part of Starter for 10, though the film itself was enjoyable and had an unexpected ending. He wasn't overshadowed by Forest Whitaker in The Last King of Scotland and (all right, please do laugh now) I have a bootlegged copy of Children of Dune nestling away on my computer's hard drive. The faun was probably an error but there's really no going right with fauns. And, Mr. JA didn't have much to do there.

A common thread so far is the class issue--and I rather like that too. The poor young lad who is seduced by upper-class trappings, falls into a life to which he can't quite fit into and is then brought crashingly down (though not always) is a consistent factor in each of these characters. Maybe that's what works. Or, maybe he just oozes chemistry (though one wouldn't be able to tell looking at him :))

I'm looking forward to Wanted now.

leap day

Google has a leaping frog where the "l" should be.

A couple of my colleagues at uni told me this is the one day of the year when girls can ask out blokes (and *gasp* even ask for the bloke's hand in marriage!). Which seems rather sad and I don't know if it's even true or they are just pulling the leg of the furriner.

In any case, let's take it as a slightly odd traditional (if not tribal) custom and, in the spirit of the day dear readers, take this as an open invite to join me whenever you are in my part of the world. You will, almost certainly, not have a good time. I hate good times as much as I hate the idea of good. Or time. I actually think I don't much like time.

Where was I? Time. Of course. Did anyone else see the episode of Lost yesterday when Desmond (and who knew a haircut and the addition of a long, Tom Baker-y scarf would make Des oh-so-fanciable, eh?) time travelled?

Wait--oh, yes, good time. No, that will probably not be on the agenda. At all. But I've almost perfected the interested nodding and the encouraging hums so don't be discouraged. I can hold up my end of a conversation. Or, if more than one of yous were to want to join me, I can hold up various conversations.

As noted here. I can hold various conversations at the same time. Right. Invite. Whenever yous are in town. Drop me a line.

Smelly.

I have no interesting excuse. Except for being asleep for most of the past two weeks. I blame the crippling bout of flu. Also: laziness.

I've made a discovery this week. Which is not quite a discovery, and more like a realization. And it's very profound.

The smell of fresh shitake mushrooms is possibly my favorite smell in the entire world. I have a small amount of them sitting in front of me (for the purposes of writing about them! Not because I am a weirdo who sits in front of her computer with a bag of mushrooms. At least not that kind of mushroom. Though I used to love to come into the kitchen and take a deep whiff of sesame oil. Apparently, if I were less high-strung and neurotic, I would be a huffer. Huh.).

I do not enjoy the smell of shitake mushrooms when they are dried, or even when they're cooked, though I do enjoy eating them. But when they're fresh and tender and moist and plump, they emanate this truly lovely smell, which is kind of like fresh bread, soil...and I don't know. Sort of a baby smell. While I don't want to eat a baby, there's something pure and sweet and kind of innocent about the scent. I want my shampoo to smell like this.

This is a reminder to take the time and smell the mushrooms more often.

Or something.

homesick...

...and even the online world knows it. My score on the "where should you travel?" test:

Your Score: Thai Resort

You scored 64% culture, 26% social, 18% activity, and 58% adventure!

Thailand...an exciting, culturally rich destination that offers you all the relaxation you can handle. This is a more satisfying place to visit than the usual hot 'n sunny places because you are experiencing a very unique place. The beaches are gorgeous and you can chill out in a hammock and be left alone. But you can also venture out into the floating markets, restaurants and even ride an elephant. The resorts are an oasis of tranquility surrounded by a world of adventures. It really is the best of both worlds. You can stay in a typical resort, or for more privacy, you can stay in a beach house all to yourself. Thai food is one of the most popular cuisines in the world, but they also make all types of dishes to suit all tastes. You will come back feeling like you've been enriched and energized.

Link: The Where Should YOU Travel Test

OED bound.

I'm taking a page from Holly, and am decreeing supertuesday my word of the year. Or at least my word of late winter/spring.

I have a habit of using a phrase or word to death, until it becomes annoying to my ear (and usually this occurs long, long after it's become annoying to other people's ears). In high school, I used chiquita like I lived on a banana farm. (Do bananas come from farms?) Then there's shit on a stick, which, to be honest, I use quite a lot still. Right now, I'm using dude. I have to actively restrain myself from calling my supervisors dude. As in "Dr. XYZ, could you sign off on this treatment plan? Dude." It is the time to embrace my adolescence.

I think this will work out if you say supertuesday superfast. So it comes out like "That's soopahtoozdei. Dude." And then don't explain.

Because only the weak explain.

since OED was mentioned...

and since I've been editing and proofreading all week (in between bouts of being sick)....

This is for all of you: A song about punctuation

Hmm.

I, on the other hand, have not screwed over anyone today. Or been screwed over by anyone. Or screwed...yous get the picture. I was reading Fanny's post just now and realised there are some American words that I find difficult to distinguish. They are also words that I want to use fairly often but then hesitate since I'm not sure I'm using the right ones.

Let me explain. Apart from the screwed over/screwed pair, another pair that I've had a lot of trouble using in the past is blow off/blow (him) off. Yes, well, the less said about the time I used them interchangeably, the better.

Another couple? Well, saloon/salon. This should be easier but in many parts of Asia, hair "salons" (in the American sense) are written up as "saloons". Especially in the local language. The idea of slapping on a pair of six-shooters and walking through swinging doors, sitting down on a barstool and asking for a "short but with layers, please and hold the shampoo" has never quite left my head.

Also, since I learnt most of my non-formal English in (the wilds of) Northern Australia, to "root" is always this (scroll down) rather than this (no. 3). See here (no. 4) for a good illustration of how quickly things can go wrong. Then, despite having lived here for nearly 5 years, I still need to think if someone says, "Do you want a ride?"

On a non-English note, I was 17 when I walked into a cafe in central Thailand and ensured all locals there were hugely amused (probably for days after since it wasn't a tourist sort of town) when I insisted I wanted good breasts* with my coffee. I'm still waiting for those.



* I'd just arrived in the country--my grandparents were still living there--on a holiday before I went to uni. It seemed like a good idea to travel about, see the country and improve my Thai. In case yous are wondering what I was actually after, it was milk (nom. I believe breasts and/or nipples are nohm). This was before I realised that coffee in Thailand automatically came with condensed milk and sugar added, unless specified otherwise.