The Guiness Float
1 pint glass
several scoops vanilla ice cream
top with guiness
eat with spoon/drink from cup
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Obligatory Showgirls Post
The wonder/horror that is Showgirls is currently on Vh1. This means I'll stay up too late watching this movie that is so bad that it falls into territory that's well...good.
Why do I like this film? It's certainly not for the nudity. For starters, those ladies have nothing that I don't see on a daily basis when exiting the shower. Also, it's not that sensational or naked. The dialogue is clunky, the way it's shot looks dated, and the actions of the characters make no sense. The idea of motive is there, but not really. I think Nomi Malone has some sort of a behavior disorder. And how about Kyle Mclaughlin's Flock of Seagulls-inspired hair? Gina Gershon comes away unscathed as always. But the biggest "what's up with this?" in this movie is the dancing itself. This is a movie about dancing (granted, with no clothes on, but dancing nevertheless) and all the moves look down right grand mal.
Maybe this movie speaks to me on some sort of a subconscious level. It is a movie about chasing your dreams, no matter how sordid and low brow they may seem. Afterall, not everyone gets to grow up and be an astronaut...
The wonder/horror that is Showgirls is currently on Vh1. This means I'll stay up too late watching this movie that is so bad that it falls into territory that's well...good.
Why do I like this film? It's certainly not for the nudity. For starters, those ladies have nothing that I don't see on a daily basis when exiting the shower. Also, it's not that sensational or naked. The dialogue is clunky, the way it's shot looks dated, and the actions of the characters make no sense. The idea of motive is there, but not really. I think Nomi Malone has some sort of a behavior disorder. And how about Kyle Mclaughlin's Flock of Seagulls-inspired hair? Gina Gershon comes away unscathed as always. But the biggest "what's up with this?" in this movie is the dancing itself. This is a movie about dancing (granted, with no clothes on, but dancing nevertheless) and all the moves look down right grand mal.
Maybe this movie speaks to me on some sort of a subconscious level. It is a movie about chasing your dreams, no matter how sordid and low brow they may seem. Afterall, not everyone gets to grow up and be an astronaut...
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Tiny Cat Pants' Guide to Illinois
Allison sent this link to me and it was awesome. So true, so true...
Illinoisans have two pastimes--building towns right next to each other, even though there's plenty of room to spread out* and experiencing odd things.
We'll get to the odd things in a second, but let's dwell on the twin cities phenomenon. Now, anyone who's ever looked at a road atlas can easily discern that the farther east you go in the Midwest, the more accommodating and easy to get along with people are. Ohio? Who doesn't get along with people from Ohio? Indiana? Yes, it's disconcerting that their Amish people drive trucks** and that everyone knows either Axl Rose or John Mellencamp or both, but, over all, okay place. Then you have Illinois, where we get a little grouchier--downstate*** hates Chicago, Chicago hates downstate; everyone who didn't go to the University of Illinois hates the University of Illinois and the University of Illinois hates them; coal miners hate the farmers; people of northern Italian descent egg the houses of people of southern Italian descent; people whose families came over from Germany 250 years ago still refuse to speak English; and so on, but as long as everyone stays in their designated area, there's very little overt hostility. Then there's Iowa, where it seems nice and peaceful, but only because there's no one in the state who's still talking to each other.
So, the twin town thing in Illinois is peculiar, but I suspect it's born out of our inherent grouchy tolerance. You can almost imagine how it happened in, say, Bloomington/Normal. The settlers were like "We need a name that will let people know that this is a happening place. Things are busting out--this is a booming town. No, that implies industry. We don't want industry. Let's call it a blooming town. Yes, that's it. Bloomington." "Industry? You jackasses don't want any industry? What kind of freaks don't want any jobs in their town? Fine. You do things your way. We'll be here on our side of this creek in 'Normal people's town.' You can call it Normal for short."
And the towns, separated more by ideology than inches, soon grow intertwined until you can't tell where one town starts and the other stops.
But, if you're going to basically tolerate the people you don't like who live near you--thus ruling out a great deal of ethnic and religious violence****--you end up with not a whole lot to do.
Which is, I suppose, how some lucky towns end up with some strange thing, like the Watseka Wonder or the Mad Gasser of Mattoon. Or they end up implementing really strange community improvement ideas.
Take for instance, Aledo, Illinois (home of Suzy Bogguss). Even though the town has, maybe, 3,000 people in it, they decided to rename all of the streets to make it easier for folks to find their way around town. Only two streets were left with actual street names--College Avenue and Main Street. All the other streets were given numbers--with streets being east-west roads and avenues being north-south roads.
You're still not seeing the lunacy, I know, but bear with me. Each street or avenue was numbered, starting with 2nd, from either College or Main. So, there was a North 2nd Street and a South 2nd Street and a West 2nd Avenue and an East 2nd Avenue. Which means that, in a town small enough you can walk across it and still meet friends for lunch up at the Garden Family Restaurant, you can stand at the corner of 2nd and 2nd at four different places in town.
Really, you almost must see it to believe it.
*See Urbana/Champaign, Bloomington/Normal, LaSalle/Peru, Rock Island/Davenport/Moline/East Moline/Bettendorf/Milan (better known as the Quad Cities. Yes, everyone knows there are six cities. Don't be petulant.), etc.
**It's a little known fact that most traffic accidents in rural Indiana are caused by Illinois drivers going "What the fuck? Is that an Amish dude driving that truck behind me?" and turning around to take a look and ending up in a culvert.
***"Downstate" constituting anything south of I-80 or west of Aurora, thus leading to the peculiarness of Galena somehow being downstate of Chicago.
****Though it'd surely be something to watch the Lutherans and the Methodists take on those young upstart Assemblies of God.
Allison sent this link to me and it was awesome. So true, so true...
Illinoisans have two pastimes--building towns right next to each other, even though there's plenty of room to spread out* and experiencing odd things.
We'll get to the odd things in a second, but let's dwell on the twin cities phenomenon. Now, anyone who's ever looked at a road atlas can easily discern that the farther east you go in the Midwest, the more accommodating and easy to get along with people are. Ohio? Who doesn't get along with people from Ohio? Indiana? Yes, it's disconcerting that their Amish people drive trucks** and that everyone knows either Axl Rose or John Mellencamp or both, but, over all, okay place. Then you have Illinois, where we get a little grouchier--downstate*** hates Chicago, Chicago hates downstate; everyone who didn't go to the University of Illinois hates the University of Illinois and the University of Illinois hates them; coal miners hate the farmers; people of northern Italian descent egg the houses of people of southern Italian descent; people whose families came over from Germany 250 years ago still refuse to speak English; and so on, but as long as everyone stays in their designated area, there's very little overt hostility. Then there's Iowa, where it seems nice and peaceful, but only because there's no one in the state who's still talking to each other.
So, the twin town thing in Illinois is peculiar, but I suspect it's born out of our inherent grouchy tolerance. You can almost imagine how it happened in, say, Bloomington/Normal. The settlers were like "We need a name that will let people know that this is a happening place. Things are busting out--this is a booming town. No, that implies industry. We don't want industry. Let's call it a blooming town. Yes, that's it. Bloomington." "Industry? You jackasses don't want any industry? What kind of freaks don't want any jobs in their town? Fine. You do things your way. We'll be here on our side of this creek in 'Normal people's town.' You can call it Normal for short."
And the towns, separated more by ideology than inches, soon grow intertwined until you can't tell where one town starts and the other stops.
But, if you're going to basically tolerate the people you don't like who live near you--thus ruling out a great deal of ethnic and religious violence****--you end up with not a whole lot to do.
Which is, I suppose, how some lucky towns end up with some strange thing, like the Watseka Wonder or the Mad Gasser of Mattoon. Or they end up implementing really strange community improvement ideas.
Take for instance, Aledo, Illinois (home of Suzy Bogguss). Even though the town has, maybe, 3,000 people in it, they decided to rename all of the streets to make it easier for folks to find their way around town. Only two streets were left with actual street names--College Avenue and Main Street. All the other streets were given numbers--with streets being east-west roads and avenues being north-south roads.
You're still not seeing the lunacy, I know, but bear with me. Each street or avenue was numbered, starting with 2nd, from either College or Main. So, there was a North 2nd Street and a South 2nd Street and a West 2nd Avenue and an East 2nd Avenue. Which means that, in a town small enough you can walk across it and still meet friends for lunch up at the Garden Family Restaurant, you can stand at the corner of 2nd and 2nd at four different places in town.
Really, you almost must see it to believe it.
*See Urbana/Champaign, Bloomington/Normal, LaSalle/Peru, Rock Island/Davenport/Moline/East Moline/Bettendorf/Milan (better known as the Quad Cities. Yes, everyone knows there are six cities. Don't be petulant.), etc.
**It's a little known fact that most traffic accidents in rural Indiana are caused by Illinois drivers going "What the fuck? Is that an Amish dude driving that truck behind me?" and turning around to take a look and ending up in a culvert.
***"Downstate" constituting anything south of I-80 or west of Aurora, thus leading to the peculiarness of Galena somehow being downstate of Chicago.
****Though it'd surely be something to watch the Lutherans and the Methodists take on those young upstart Assemblies of God.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Hurts So Good
I forsee duckwalking into work tomorrow as I let my arms and legs have it at the gym these past two days. Throw in some super situps and I'll be good to go until the next gym session. Though, evertime I find myself suspended over the floor, using my (soon to be) awesome abs to lift myself back upright, I can envision the arm on the device I use snapping off, sending me facefirst into the floor. I do this for two songs, alternating between left side of waist, right side of waist, and back muscles, going until each group is fatigued and then repeating until I've gone through two whole songs. Even though I've been listening to a lot of Pink Floyd lately, I dare not to do this routine to any of their songs (as a lot of them are 15 minute-ers or more).
It's becoming increasingly apparent what an integral part of fitness the ipod has become. Choice of music is essential for ensuring that a workout goes well. Obviously the fast stuff is great for cardio...stuff from Madonna or Gwen Steffani is good. I also find that My Chemical Romance helps me keep on running. When it comes to lifting weights or wailing on the abs, I'll listen to stuff from Nine Inch Nails or Jay-Z. For some reason, I like alt country and/or rockabilly stuff for lifting and ab work. I like more interesting music for the last set of cardio - this is where having some Richard Cheese in que is great. It's funny enough that it keeps my spirits high and I make a deal with myself that if I go an extra couple of miles that I'll keep listening to the music.
Today I worked out for almost two hours. The first 45+ minutes was cardio followed by arms routine, followed by more cardio. As I was completing my second set of cardio, I ran into stair-stepper extraordinaire (and all around awesome gal) Christa and spent the next hour bike riding and treadmilling while chatting. It makes the hour fly by. Gave the stairstepper a whirl, but not only is it rough on my knees, I have no aptitude for using this device. At least I'll always have my love, the elliptical trainer.
And yes, once again I saw a buck naked lady in the locker room.
I forsee duckwalking into work tomorrow as I let my arms and legs have it at the gym these past two days. Throw in some super situps and I'll be good to go until the next gym session. Though, evertime I find myself suspended over the floor, using my (soon to be) awesome abs to lift myself back upright, I can envision the arm on the device I use snapping off, sending me facefirst into the floor. I do this for two songs, alternating between left side of waist, right side of waist, and back muscles, going until each group is fatigued and then repeating until I've gone through two whole songs. Even though I've been listening to a lot of Pink Floyd lately, I dare not to do this routine to any of their songs (as a lot of them are 15 minute-ers or more).
It's becoming increasingly apparent what an integral part of fitness the ipod has become. Choice of music is essential for ensuring that a workout goes well. Obviously the fast stuff is great for cardio...stuff from Madonna or Gwen Steffani is good. I also find that My Chemical Romance helps me keep on running. When it comes to lifting weights or wailing on the abs, I'll listen to stuff from Nine Inch Nails or Jay-Z. For some reason, I like alt country and/or rockabilly stuff for lifting and ab work. I like more interesting music for the last set of cardio - this is where having some Richard Cheese in que is great. It's funny enough that it keeps my spirits high and I make a deal with myself that if I go an extra couple of miles that I'll keep listening to the music.
Today I worked out for almost two hours. The first 45+ minutes was cardio followed by arms routine, followed by more cardio. As I was completing my second set of cardio, I ran into stair-stepper extraordinaire (and all around awesome gal) Christa and spent the next hour bike riding and treadmilling while chatting. It makes the hour fly by. Gave the stairstepper a whirl, but not only is it rough on my knees, I have no aptitude for using this device. At least I'll always have my love, the elliptical trainer.
And yes, once again I saw a buck naked lady in the locker room.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Can't Keep My Eyes from the Circling Skies
Somehow, I managed to find the LBL airport yesterday afternoon. It's wonderful - on top of a hill, in the middle of the woods, loveliness surrounding it. The kind of imagery well suited for sharing, but photos just don't do it justice.
After standing at the top of that hill, I would like to get a pilots license so that I could fly into beautiful airstrips on hilltops and go places like that at a moment's notice.
Somehow, I managed to find the LBL airport yesterday afternoon. It's wonderful - on top of a hill, in the middle of the woods, loveliness surrounding it. The kind of imagery well suited for sharing, but photos just don't do it justice.
After standing at the top of that hill, I would like to get a pilots license so that I could fly into beautiful airstrips on hilltops and go places like that at a moment's notice.
Friday, January 13, 2006
The Weatherman Says Fair
When I left for work this morning, a thick and slushy snowfall was rapidly coating everything in sight. Chagrined that I forgot to park my car in the garage last night, I scraped off the soupy sludge of frozen ice and water before starting my 15 mile journey to work. Not caring the exact time I reached my desk, I decided to stop at Starbucks for caffinated fortification in the form of a vanilla soy latte.
Once I arrived at work, I wasn't 10 steps past my car when my work cell phone popped out of my pocket and skidded across the wet pavement. My phone is dead. It's not dead-dead, but rather...zombie dead. It's sort of alive, but really not. It can do outgoing calls and incoming calls, but it won't ring and I can't say anything into it nor can I hear anything out of it. I spent all morning trying to fix it to no avail. I will be without a work cell until sometime late next week. And because my phone was dead, I didn't receive the call about a punctured oil pan in a truck "barfing" oil everywhere. On the bright side, I gave myself a lovely case of spreadsheet hypnosis and a case of paranoid dejection. I also went to Arby's with the admins and even that had a dark shadow cast over it - with personal problems abound and a sandwich that was subpar. Even the tea wasn't that great.
So sometime around 6, I left work...it's stopped slushing out but it's quite colder. I can't decide if I want to drive to my parents house tonight or wallow in ennui and give it a whirl tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be ennui involved.
And curly hair as I've decided to roll it all up on a whim. I want old school hair - with the wave in the bangs and everything. Everything old is new again, you know.
Speaking of old, I hit the quarter century sometime within the next 100 hours. Here's to another quarter century of holding it down.
When I left for work this morning, a thick and slushy snowfall was rapidly coating everything in sight. Chagrined that I forgot to park my car in the garage last night, I scraped off the soupy sludge of frozen ice and water before starting my 15 mile journey to work. Not caring the exact time I reached my desk, I decided to stop at Starbucks for caffinated fortification in the form of a vanilla soy latte.
Once I arrived at work, I wasn't 10 steps past my car when my work cell phone popped out of my pocket and skidded across the wet pavement. My phone is dead. It's not dead-dead, but rather...zombie dead. It's sort of alive, but really not. It can do outgoing calls and incoming calls, but it won't ring and I can't say anything into it nor can I hear anything out of it. I spent all morning trying to fix it to no avail. I will be without a work cell until sometime late next week. And because my phone was dead, I didn't receive the call about a punctured oil pan in a truck "barfing" oil everywhere. On the bright side, I gave myself a lovely case of spreadsheet hypnosis and a case of paranoid dejection. I also went to Arby's with the admins and even that had a dark shadow cast over it - with personal problems abound and a sandwich that was subpar. Even the tea wasn't that great.
So sometime around 6, I left work...it's stopped slushing out but it's quite colder. I can't decide if I want to drive to my parents house tonight or wallow in ennui and give it a whirl tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be ennui involved.
And curly hair as I've decided to roll it all up on a whim. I want old school hair - with the wave in the bangs and everything. Everything old is new again, you know.
Speaking of old, I hit the quarter century sometime within the next 100 hours. Here's to another quarter century of holding it down.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Low Brows
I had my brows waxed at the salon tonight and she got them a little...a little much was taken from between the brows. Granted, I'm probably the only one that really notices it, but I'm paranoid that I'll end up looking like this girl I saw this weekend who had brows that didn't begin until her irises. I took some Smashbox Brow Tech in Taupe to them and the brows look decent, but I'm still adjusting to the look. At least my hair is good - it's extra floofy now and the long bangs are the pefect length to perfectly accentuate the adorableness that is me in safety glasses.
Sugar Bad!
While I don't believe in declaring myself to be "bad" for eating an unhealthy meal, I may do so on tonight's occasion of burger, fries, and regular soda from the standpoint that I feel like I've eaten a clump of dirt. So now my goal when choosing meals on the fly is to remember how gross I feel internally right now each time someone asks if I'd like fries with that.
The Forgotten Dog Dream
I woke up suddenly around 4 this morning when I had a dream that I had a dog but forgot that I had a dog? Confusing? In my dream, I was standing in my kitchen when this emaciated pomeranian comes crawling up to me and plops at my feet. I started to freak out and cry because I realized that I had a dog but forgot that I had a dog and thus hadn't been feeding it and it was on the verge of starving to death. And once again, all thoughts I've had of getting some sort of small critter have been dashed. I guess Turbo the Guinea Pig won't be a reality until later this year or maybe next. That's right folks - I want a little blonde guinea pig and I'm naming him or her "Turbo" because that's a damn cool name for a guinea pig.
First Birthday Gift?
I was given a garage/basement band cd today and it made me happy because not only did it come from an adorable boy, it's the style of music I loved when I was young. One of the songs has strong shades of Del Shannon. For years, my favorite song was "Runaway" and I'd listen to that and many other gems while drawing pictures of poodle skirts and hep cats. My parents are pretty sure that I wasn't fully aware that it wasn't 1957 until I hit the age of 10.
I had my brows waxed at the salon tonight and she got them a little...a little much was taken from between the brows. Granted, I'm probably the only one that really notices it, but I'm paranoid that I'll end up looking like this girl I saw this weekend who had brows that didn't begin until her irises. I took some Smashbox Brow Tech in Taupe to them and the brows look decent, but I'm still adjusting to the look. At least my hair is good - it's extra floofy now and the long bangs are the pefect length to perfectly accentuate the adorableness that is me in safety glasses.
Sugar Bad!
While I don't believe in declaring myself to be "bad" for eating an unhealthy meal, I may do so on tonight's occasion of burger, fries, and regular soda from the standpoint that I feel like I've eaten a clump of dirt. So now my goal when choosing meals on the fly is to remember how gross I feel internally right now each time someone asks if I'd like fries with that.
The Forgotten Dog Dream
I woke up suddenly around 4 this morning when I had a dream that I had a dog but forgot that I had a dog? Confusing? In my dream, I was standing in my kitchen when this emaciated pomeranian comes crawling up to me and plops at my feet. I started to freak out and cry because I realized that I had a dog but forgot that I had a dog and thus hadn't been feeding it and it was on the verge of starving to death. And once again, all thoughts I've had of getting some sort of small critter have been dashed. I guess Turbo the Guinea Pig won't be a reality until later this year or maybe next. That's right folks - I want a little blonde guinea pig and I'm naming him or her "Turbo" because that's a damn cool name for a guinea pig.
First Birthday Gift?
I was given a garage/basement band cd today and it made me happy because not only did it come from an adorable boy, it's the style of music I loved when I was young. One of the songs has strong shades of Del Shannon. For years, my favorite song was "Runaway" and I'd listen to that and many other gems while drawing pictures of poodle skirts and hep cats. My parents are pretty sure that I wasn't fully aware that it wasn't 1957 until I hit the age of 10.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Raves: First Edition, 2006
These are a few of my favorite things...
1. Conair hot lotion dispenser: not since teenage boys has one been so enthusiastic about lotion. Hot, soothing, lotion!
2. Black liquid eyeliner: as part of my pin up training, I got a retro makeover at the Clinique counter. Their liquid liner is superior to all because of the felt tip. I can really poke it down in the lashes without worrying about my brush going limp. This stuff is a revelation.
3. Tiny beaded necklaces: I found a bunch at Claire's for cheap. They're like the ones that Allison used to make, so there's definitely nostalgia value there. A simple way to dress up an outfit.
4. Starbucks Vanilla Soy Lattes: I've had 3 in the past 24 hours. It's like a meal in a cup and it's the perfect temperature. The soy taste is different and it leaves the most refreshing after-taste in my mouth as opposed to the after-funk of dairy lattes.
5. Uncle Tupelo: Check out the Anthology 88-93 to get a nice overview of the goodness that was this band. All hail my new favorite thing to come out of Belleville. Alt-country never sounded so good.
6. Pabst Blue Ribbon: I had one last week because he was buying. I've had a few other since then as I realized it's not that bad. And props to the iconic can. However, yes, this is just a phase.
7. Red, flannel sheets: Now all my bedroom needs is a "Hot Light." Methinks I'll drive over to the Krispy Kreme in Bloomington and steal theirs. But yes, it really adds that something that was missing to my room. Deep red tones are really growing on me. Oh, and the sheets are soft...quasi-floofy. And so you know, "floofy" is my favorite texture.
These are a few of my favorite things...
1. Conair hot lotion dispenser: not since teenage boys has one been so enthusiastic about lotion. Hot, soothing, lotion!
2. Black liquid eyeliner: as part of my pin up training, I got a retro makeover at the Clinique counter. Their liquid liner is superior to all because of the felt tip. I can really poke it down in the lashes without worrying about my brush going limp. This stuff is a revelation.
3. Tiny beaded necklaces: I found a bunch at Claire's for cheap. They're like the ones that Allison used to make, so there's definitely nostalgia value there. A simple way to dress up an outfit.
4. Starbucks Vanilla Soy Lattes: I've had 3 in the past 24 hours. It's like a meal in a cup and it's the perfect temperature. The soy taste is different and it leaves the most refreshing after-taste in my mouth as opposed to the after-funk of dairy lattes.
5. Uncle Tupelo: Check out the Anthology 88-93 to get a nice overview of the goodness that was this band. All hail my new favorite thing to come out of Belleville. Alt-country never sounded so good.
6. Pabst Blue Ribbon: I had one last week because he was buying. I've had a few other since then as I realized it's not that bad. And props to the iconic can. However, yes, this is just a phase.
7. Red, flannel sheets: Now all my bedroom needs is a "Hot Light." Methinks I'll drive over to the Krispy Kreme in Bloomington and steal theirs. But yes, it really adds that something that was missing to my room. Deep red tones are really growing on me. Oh, and the sheets are soft...quasi-floofy. And so you know, "floofy" is my favorite texture.
Good Bye Rose Colored Glasses
I started 2006 by smashing the rosy tinted lenses through which I tend to see the world by seeing the good for what it is: good; and the bad for how it is: bad. No coloring of perceptions or hopes or dreams or chances or (dare I say it)...possibilities. Just the cold, hard facts in front of me.
...And it's been some time since I've felt so at peace with the world.
I don't even feel hopeful. I feel brave and amused by all that is forthcoming. Surely the future holds more adventures and more of the funny little things that make life...life. Who cares of deeper meaning when living in such a strange world. I'm striving to appreciate things how they are and not for how they could be. Good times, bad times, just the times - all are only what we make of it. Seeing things exactly as they are and appreciating them as such shall possibly be one of the roads to a life well lived.
I started 2006 by smashing the rosy tinted lenses through which I tend to see the world by seeing the good for what it is: good; and the bad for how it is: bad. No coloring of perceptions or hopes or dreams or chances or (dare I say it)...possibilities. Just the cold, hard facts in front of me.
...And it's been some time since I've felt so at peace with the world.
I don't even feel hopeful. I feel brave and amused by all that is forthcoming. Surely the future holds more adventures and more of the funny little things that make life...life. Who cares of deeper meaning when living in such a strange world. I'm striving to appreciate things how they are and not for how they could be. Good times, bad times, just the times - all are only what we make of it. Seeing things exactly as they are and appreciating them as such shall possibly be one of the roads to a life well lived.
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