i copy awesome stuff and hang it in my house

I saw this thing on the internet once...
[click here to see the thing]
...and I really liked it. But no way am I going to pay that price, right? I'd rather die. So I made my own for approx $40!

And don't anyone dare to correct my geography on this thing, I know it's kind of crap and I just have given up on caring.

Felicity Season Two: An Exercise in TRYING To Get Canceled: How Bored Can We Make Our Viewers Before They Stop Viewing?: David Sucks.

I've mentioned before that I am rewatching every episode of the 4 seasons of Felicity on DVD right now. The first season was SO good. I love that season. Felicity is so innocent, wearing those giant heinous sweaters and saying the most embarrassing things to Ben, and then secretly falling in love with Noel. Every episode is hilarious and precious and just so...felicitous.

Cut to the second season...aka, cut my head off. O.M.God. Every time I see Felicity (which is just about every single scene), I make like a Mexican Jumping Bean and lay on the bottom of my plastic cup playing dead while my owner rattles me around and whines, "MOOOOOOMMMM!" This haircut hurts my soul, and it has NOTHING to do with the pixie cut I sported to ring in the new millennium. Really, she just styles it SO badly. I love how the writers sneakily made every character mock her for the stupid thing in the first episode.

But more than that, Season 2 is shitty because it just IS. Hello Felicity - strip off those tight ribbed tank tops and paisley button-downs and replace them with some @%$&()$@##&^ SWEATERS! Break it off with Big-Head McLong-Face and get with Noel, like we all know you want to. Julie, drop the "I'm a hurt girlfriend" act, resume your BFFing with The Feliss, and hop on that Sean love-train. Elena and Meghan, keep being awesome. Noel, good work on YOUR haircut, you look great. Ben, hottie mc-amazing whaaaaaat, you just stand there silently in that leather jacket while I go get you a wheelbarrow for your Emmy's.

Also, Felicity's head is just SO small. How laughable is it when she's making out with Big-Head David? That's another reason she needs her hair back - to disguise the concord grape she's been using as a skull.

Lookin' Fresh

Just in case you guys weren't sure whether or not I was awesome as a kid, here's proof that I WAS.

This is how you can tell:
1. Mullet
2. Pierced ears
3. Purple glasses
4. Teal mock turtleneck with chic black felt detailing - so fly

Thanks Cristy.

As promised...

I'm an Internet Predator

Leave me alone, Shaq. Not that kind. (Referencing this for those of you who don't spend your entire workday memorizing the internets like I do.)

Sometimes when I find a blog that I really like, I start stalking the writer. Hardcore for realsies. This week it's Kim Hutt from www.whatclaudiawore.com. I'm reading through the archives of her personal blog today. Why do I find this interesting, for serious? I don't know this person, yet I'm voluntarily reading her personal musings for HOURS on end. There is something wrong with me. Anyway, she wrote this about 5 months ago about her relationship with her boyfriend Brian. And I'll be damned if she and Brian are not soul sisters with me and Scott, because we actually USE the term "crazypants" on an hourly basis. I want to email her and see if she calls him "nutburger" too because that would be just TOO much. Read:

I just finished telling B. he could not buy a motorcycle because I do not want to have to explain to our hypothetical child that Daddy died because he wouldn’t listen to Mommy about how he didn’t need a fatboy. Now he’s singing the “no one cares, you really don’t care, I really want a motorcycle” song, which I highly suspect is NOT A REAL SONG.

I could write about the times that we stare into each other’s eyes and talk about how nauseatingly happy we are - cause they happen too, it’s not just him accusing me of being (and I quote) “crazypants” - but who wants to read about that? It’s way more fun to write about the times he accuses me of being the live embodiment of Liz Lemon and I shriek at him that it’s not my fault I like working on my night cheese.

Ken's Joys

Somewhere in the never-ending grasslands of my childhood is a bookstore called "Ken's Joys." That name is just so typical for Lancaster County it makes my skin crawl. (And by that I mean that people from Lancaster County are very earnest and sincere; they completely lack awareness of snark, wit, and sarcasm; they are pleased by the simplest things of life and don't know enough to be embarrassed by that in this dark, cold world of ours.) Anyway, I met Ken once, he was either a deeply closeted homosexual or a bit slow. Since I don't think that the mentally slow are often given small business loans with which to open book stores, I'm going to go with homosexual. (Another parenthetical thought - I love the gays and do not equate homosexuality with a mental deficiency. It was just this one specific case where I felt like something was "off" with Ken and I wasn't sure if it was a hidden identity or if he got dropped on his head.)

Anyway, Ken's a weird cat but the name of his store has always stuck with me.

Here are a few of my joys:

1. www.whatclaudiawore.com is the best blog OF MY LIFE. OF MY LIFE! I was such a bookwormish kid, and I adored the Babysitter's Club with all my heart, and this blog is just everything I never knew I needed in my life.
2. I've been slowly rewatching Felicity on DVD and LOVING it. So many good quotes. A sampling for your pleasure: "We're not here to talk about your hair, Felicity." "Ok, well just give me back my Sarah MacLachlan CD and we'll be even."

I thought there would be more but I guess that's it. Hmm. Whatever, those joys are enough for today.

Oh also, inspired as I am by Ann M. Martin's catalog of genius, I'm thinking of writing my own young adult lit. Would that not be the most amazing thing ever? Send me your ideas.

Sam Jams

Today, being the homemaker Sally that I totally am (not), I jammed. Strawberry-Lime jammed, to be exact. You should taste my kitchen floor/counters/stovetop! Deeeeelish. And would you LOOK at how cute!

Recipe:

Wash and sterilize your jars/lids. Clean 4 containers of strawberries. Put them in a giant pot, mash them up, add 4 cups of sugar and a whole thing of lime juice (the kind in the little plastic container). If you don't love lime flavor like I do, add less. It does come out really limey. Mash everything together and bring to a boil. Add 1 tablespoon of butter. Continue boiling until it gets thick enough to be considered jam. Stir continuously to avoid burnage. When it's done cooking, spoon into jars and add lids. Voila! No canning required - there's so much sugar in these puppies that they're shelf-stable for 4 months on their own. The recipe filled 8 small canning jars.

Optional - add cute tags, hand out generously, and blush modestly when complimented. :)

Tuesdays are never good

Tuesdays have always always always been my least favorite day of the week.

When Cassie and I were little, Mom used to work until 2:30 every day and then pick us up from school...except for TUESDAYS. On Tuesdays she worked until 5, and we had to go to Nana's or a babysitter's house after school. And we HATED it.

At summer camp, Tuesdays were the worst because it wasn't the first day anymore (Monday) and it wasn't the halfway mark yet (Wednesday). It was just a terrible beginning day. I hated camp, can you tell? But I kept going back anyway - the workings of my childhood mind baffle me.

In college, Tuesdays were bad because of our class schedule. M/W/F classes were 1 hour long, and T/TH classes were 1.5 hours long. Tres boring. But Tuesdays were worse than Thursdays because at least on Thursdays, it's like "Almost weekend! Yeah! Let's go to the bar tonight!" or, more accurately in my case, "Almost weekend! Yeah! Tonight I'm going to fall asleep at 8:30 watching a rerun of The Office but that's okay because I like it like that!"

Now Tuesdays are the worst because I have class from 4-9:15. Today what I really want to do is go home, drink some coffee, read my book for a really long time, then make a delicious and nutritious dinner, then play Mario Kart. Then go to bed early because I'm tired today. But what I'll do instead is leave work, go to the gym, go straight to class, sit there angry and frustrated as I struggle to work iMovie, then have a probably disgusting dinner because we only get a 20 minute break (Lesley's policy is to give 45 minutes...but the instructor just sucks) and the only place close enough to get there and back in 20 minutes is a falafel joint, and I am SO sick of falafel. Like, I'd rather starve. Then after class I'll go home, arrive around 9:45, shower and fall asleep immediately.

Tuesdays are never good to the ole Sam Beam.

The only thing good about Tuesdays is the song...GOOOOOOODBYE, RUBY TUESDAY! WHO COULD HANG A NAME ON YOU??????

If I can croon that all night maybe my spirits will not sink too low. Here are a selection of pictures that came up when I google image searched "Tuesday." They all prove that Tuesdays are the worst, in case you were wondering.

Shake it like a Polaroid picture

For my new (almost over) class I am making a stop motion animation video. Familiar? No? I wasn't really either until last night. The videos are made by taking lots of still photos, and then playing them one after another really fast to give the illusion of motion. Here are some insaaaane examples:









Mine won't be like this - A) It only has to be 30 seconds long, B) No way can I do anything that involved. I'll post whatever it is when it's finished!