shoe of the day...

shoe of the day...

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

the blechelor.


i watched the finale of the bachelor last nite.
this is not something that i make a habit of. in fact, up until this season, i'm fairly certain i hadn't ever seen an entire episode. this season, based solely on the hotness of andy (the officer/gentleman/puppet), i've tuned in almost every week to watch the last 10 minutes of each episode. why? well. it's not particularly entertaining. moreso, it's fascinating. my complaint about the bachelor has been, and will continue to be this: have these women never seen an episode of this show? it's been on for, what, 9 seasons? do they NOT know that the whole point of the show is for the bachelor to date many, many women in the hopes of finding a (blech) mate? ok, wait. i'll back up. let's assume that they have not seen an episode of the show. so. we assume that they live under a rock. or in a hole. or have been kept locked away in a closet in some remote russian town. somehow, they crawl out from under the rock, climb up from the hole, or break out of said closet. the make it onto the show. are you telling me that no one (no one?!) says to them, "just so you know...there are 25 of you, duking it out or this guy." that must be the case, because WITHOUT FAIL, at least once an episode someone says, "i just don't understand...i thought he liked me. i thought we had a connection. i feel betrayed." cue tears and dejected walk to the limo-of-rejection. i swear to jesus.

annoying. and, frankly, depressing.

note: yes. i know it's only a television show. and no, i shouldn't watch if i'm going to get this worked up.

we came to the conclusion last nite that bachelor andy, in spite of his honest-to-goodness HOT factor, must have some major character flaw. he seemed a little vacant behind the eyes. and, also? he told two women, in the span of a day, that he loved them. on national television. and then had to recant to one of them. on national television. idiocy. (for real. that's just dumb.) also, his teeth were too perfect. they sort of screamed 'deranged dentist.' i mean, clearly he's not unintelligent (i think i read that he's a surgeon? i'm not kidding when i say i only watch the last 15 minutes.) but he's not the brightest bulb in the lamp of common sense.

funny: my mom commented that he didn't look like he was kissing with very much passion. quite possibly my favorite comment on anything. ever. she also hates the bachelor but was oddly riveted last nite.

[note: tv just told me that clooney, pitt and damon are going to be live from cannes on gma tomorrow morning. i think tv just exploded from glee.]

i always think i should feel bad for the girls on the bachelor. but, really? NO. you weren't forced into this (if you were, well. get yourself out of THAT situation.) you know exactly what you're getting yourself into. and yes: you think you're going to be the one. but, you have to know that the odds of that happening are not great. even if you live in a tiny town with very few men of note: stay there. your odds of finding a (blech) mate are greater.

Friday, May 11, 2007

view from my window: pants edition

i hope to god that this is not a gymnastics experiment gone awry.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007


i don't believe i've yet mentioned my office's eye candy.
will attempt a full description sometime soon, but i have to point out that his window is currently being propped open by a bottle that, by shape, contains either: laundry detergent, maple syrup or moonshine.

odds are on number three.


woke up monday morning after a particularly grueling, work-centric weekend feeling as though my entire body had been panini-pressed. i ached...greatly. i dragged my tortured bod to the bathroom, barely cleared the edge of the tub, and began my shower. as i began to wash my left leg, i noticed a rather large dark spot. i seriously thought it was a giant smearing of motor oil (not that motor oil would belong on my leg first thing in the morning, but you know my history with cars. and i was tired.) and tried to scrub it off. turns out it was a HUGE bruise, the tenderness of which was not catered to with all the scrubbing. now, seriously: it's huge. and i have zero recollection as to it's origin. it is the bruise of unknown origin. it's the size of, and resembles in shape, one of those little debbie christmas tree snack cakes. it's a lovely shade of eggplant (turning into a lovely shade of artichoke) and would be rather artistic/tattoo-like if it didn't HURT LIKE HELL. seeing as how it's 90 degrees here today, it's also rather limiting in the wardrobe department. no one wants to see satan's handprint at work and i've tried my best to keep it covered, but: IT'S 90 DEGREES. and my office has no air conditioning. i've taken to tucking my leg under when i sit but i've the feeling that will not be conducive to the healing process. it sort of looks like diego rivera started another mural and got bored 3% of the way through. i blame my job...mostly because if the weekend hadn't been so hellacious, i wouldn't have had to go out sunday night and consult the liquid therapist, most likely resulting in some anti-coordination display that led to said bouo. i wonder how the worker's comp people feel about bruises.

Monday, May 7, 2007

sound bites: religious edition

overheard in church this morning:

"what are you doing?!? shut up and pray."
(loudly whispered from grandmother to her two young grandsons)