Hello people. Here I am, back from the other side of the world, alive and well (except for dry skin and the minor sniffles). I'm pretty bummed, I didn't get to write as much as I had expected to, there just wasn't enough time. So, I will now transcribe what little I did write, which really had nothing to do with the places I visited at all. Perhaps the next post, or the next. We'll see. This will be a long post, bear with me. Or, just skip it all together.

The Chronic (WHAT!)-cles of India

Monday, Jan 23, 7:38am

Well, it's only been a few hours into my trip and already I have so much to write about. I'll spare you the particulars about getting up at the crack of dawn and just jump right into my first QTS ("question to self"): Just how many beverages on board this flight will they serve me before cutting me off? It seems like a good test to conduct in the midst of my boredom, but perhaps I will save that for the 10hr flight to Tokyo.

Next item of business: while in the car to the airport this morning, I came up with the greatest title to sum up all the writing I'll be doing on this trip. Henceforth, begins: "The Chronic (WHAT!) -cles of India (and subsequently, Hong Kong)". Alright, I admit, its long and only slightly humours if you've seen the SNL skit. If not, well then, go download the skit online somewhere and then come back. -BATHROOM BREAK- Just returned from the bathroom and one observation; morel ike a second QTS: this mile high club that people talk so much about, how do they manage? These bathrooms are tiny, barely enough room for a large person, how do two people fit in there? Perhaps the restrooms are larger on the jumbo jets...I'll have to report on that later.

Soon, I will be landing in Portland. I wish I had done some research about Portland since I'll be stuck there for three whole hours. Slight chance of rain there, the capt. said. I wouldn't mind getting out of the airport to see the city but its highly doubtful I will. I'm sure I already display signs of being the novice traveller. I'm a little too eager in my movements and too easily excited and confused. A skilled con man would be able to easily single me out in the crowd and prey on my inexperience with traveling. Oh look! Snowy mountains to my right! Pretty..

I have a window seat, and am the only occupant in this row, which is cool, I've never had my own row before. And hark! More snow! One thing I do like about flying, is that it's always sunny up here, despite the weather down there. I mean, to have the sun right next to you, shining its rays of light down below is so serene and promising of what's to come.
Ooooh! A snow filled lake!

My mental visualizations of the plane going down will not help me on this flight, for I visualized myself on the left side, and I am sitting on the right side of the plane. And, the other passengers on board are just too mellow to fulfill the role of the screaming chaos I had visualized. No, these people will not do at all. And it's too late to adjust my visualizations, at least for the flight. Perhaps on the next?

11:27pm PST Monday

There is snow in Japan. How cool is that? Ok, maybe not that much, I guess its just that everything looks pretty from above. So far, from the circular walk I just made around the international center area, Japan is pretty darn cool. For one, I've already gotten kicked out of the NWA membership lounge, (not knowing it was the membership lounge) but the Japanese lady was so polite about it that it was actually a pleasure to get kicked out by her. (How was I suppose to know you need a membership card to stay in the lounge? The signs said "public lounge!!")

**NOTE: Upon returning to that airport, I realized that I had read the sign wrong, public lounges were downstairs, membership lounges (where I went) was upstairs.

I feel like an ipod commercial walking around these airports with my ipod shuffle dangling around my neck (I have no pockets on me), while I walk in step to the tune of Ben Lee's "That's the way I like it." I was a bit worried about the music selections in my shuffle, but so far, I think I did superb: these are totally hanging-out-in-airports-of-different-countries tunes. Definitely.

So I survived the dreaded 10hr flight. Sat next to an older gent whose story can be an entry of his own. It was definitely more cramped on that flight, which was the reason for me not writing for 10hrs. Plus Tom (the name I'm giving to the man who sat next to me because we never did introduce ourselves, thus avoiding the commitment of friendship at the minutest level) probably would have asked about it, or even worse, start reading over my arm about the things I would write about him. Instead, I read my trashy OK! magazine, a little piece of guilty pleasure I gave into during my 3hr wait in Portland, which, from the airport, seemed very pretty (again, probably just the whole "birds eye view" thing. Tom said its not so great.) I also napped, ate a lot of snacks I brought, ate alot of in flight food, shared my snacks with Tom, and watched bad in-flight movies. Other than my back and my butt being super uncomfortable, it wasn't so bad. Actually, trying to sleep was really tiresome and annoying.

Oh great, my shuffle just stopped working. My apple commercial has ended. Op! There it is. Yay!

So, I made some observations on the last flight that answered some of my previous QTS's. Number one being: in higher altitudes, my bladder will probably give in before the beverages do.
In flight beverages: 1 SH: 0

Also, after making several trips to the restroom, I've concluded that yes, two people can fit in there and still have a couple inches of room left to join the club. It may not be comfortable, but it is definitely possible. However, another QTS is raised: How do 2 people get in without being seen? I guess that is why the club is so exclusive: because it's hard. There's at least 1 person hanging around at any given time, not to mention the people who sit right next to the restrooms who have nothing else to do but look at the people entering and exiting the restroom. So, I give props to the people of the "club."

The Sun is just now setting in Japan, but it is after midnight in Burbank. I have made it through my first day and I am still here, alive. My mental visualizations would have come in more handy on this last flight, as I was sitting on the correct side of the plane this time, and the passengers aboard, little beknownst it to them, corroborrated with the passengers in my visualizations: a couple families with small children (the better to add to the chaos if the plane went down), many Japanese men and women (have you seen their useless inventions? If they're not crazy, I don't know who is), and just a good mix of people who seemed like they would create chaos, should the opportunity arose. Not at all like the duds from the Portland flight.

6:02 am PST Tuesday

Boy, am I lucky. With 30 minutes left before I land in Hong Kong, I will just say that I was able to have the whole row to myself on this flight. I didn't really get to take advantage of the whole situation though, but the extra leg room is always nice. And boy do I feel like crap. That is all.

Feb 1, sometime somewhere in Singapore

Here I am, sitting once again in the singapore airport, waiting for my flight back to Hong Kong. That's right, back to Hong Kong. I barely had a free moment in India to do any writing. It was all "go go go!" or sleep so that we can do some more "go go go!" My so-called "chroic (what!) -cles of India" are now over. There's just so much to write about my experience in India, but its 5:50 in the morning, and instead of sleeping, I watched 2 whole movies plus 1 Family Guy episode on the plane, so it's a bit hard to concentrate on recalling all that has occured over the last 5 days. Instead, I will just write what comes to mind:

An addition/amendment to an earlier QTS: I've found that different size planes have different sized bathrooms, and when you're on an overnight flight where most people are sleeping in the middle of the flight, it seems easier than I had previously imagined to get 2 people in the bathroom to do their "bid-ness." That is the last I will say on that topic. I'm not obsessed, just strangely curious.

Oh how much I love singapore airlines. They have over 10 movies to choose from, all pretty big names and all pretty recent, in all sorts of languages. Not to mention several popular TV shows, recent and popular music albums in several languages, interactive games, and other fun things I didn't even get a chance to look at. This stuff makes the time go by so much qucker. Another reason for my lack of wirting and random thoughts.

6:34 am, continued...

Got distracted by a big yummy bowl of airport congee and CNN. Not bad for airport food. Congee is great for breakfast but really, its good at anytime of the day, if you make it right. Speaking of food, I don't think I'll be having Indian cuisine for a long time. I'm not saying never, I'm just saying a LONG time. Reason being: I go pretty sick in India. On the first day there I threw up my breakfast, and proceeded to repeat the act 2 more times through the day. I think I broke my own record. It was like that scene in Kindergarten Cop, if you've seen it you'd know what I mean. Anyway, more gory details later in my breakdown of India, but my point is, after something comes up the way it went down three times in one day, it's just not so appetizing anymore, and any similary smells encountered subsequently afterwards only acted as an annoying prodding stick, reminding me of that glorious day when I left my mark on India on three separate occasions along the hills of Shimla.

SH: 3
India: 0

Correction-

SH: 4
India: 0

(I threw up again the next day. Not to mention nearly again the day after that.)

Anyways, enough about my digestive track. Let's talk about how hot the flight attendants are on singapore airlines. Ok, they're not all hot, but they're all very pretty and well groomed. I wonder what their requirements are when hiring these gals- 1) Be pretty? 2) 24-36-24? What's the word when one discriminates against ugly people? Oy, can't think...too early in the morning.

Boy, still another 1.5 hours before I leave for HK. And then a couple more hours to get there. I can't wait though - Chinese food GALORE!!! Dim sum, noodles.. I can't imagine what else. I can hear the noodles chanting my name already. Good thing my name is very chantable - you should try it some time. Anyway, enough writing for now, I'm going to zone out on ESPN football. And by football, I mean, American Soccer. And by American, I mean British. And by British, I may mean Irish or Scottish, I can't be sure.

Alright kids, this is it. This is my last blog before I leave for India. I'll definitely be writing (manually)along the way, and it will depend on the availability of my sis's laptop and internet for me to post something while I am there. (Who knows, this could be my last blog ever.)

So be good while I'm gone, and goodnight.

At the prodding of Ms. Schu, I will now blog. (She's like the guilty conscious in the back of my head that's come to life.)

Nothing of significiance to post lately, thus, the half assed poetry about boys, which, is so retarded now looking back on it that I'm about to delete it from history, except: that would be cheating. Once you blog, you can't go back. (Well, technically, you can, you just hit the delete button. But we're living in my world here, a world in which deleting already-published blog posts is not allowed. It's the "no takebacks" from 4th grade. It's that 2am drunken call you wish you hadn't made the morning after. But you did, and you have to live with it. It's done and its over with, and even though there's the "delete post" button staring you in the face, prompting you to hit it with your best shot, you ignore, and move on with your life. At least in my blog world...)

Moving on.

I am going to India.

That is a bold statement, is it not? :)

And let me just say that "Save as draft" is a loophole into the "no delete" rule. When you save, you are interrupted, but plan on coming back to the post later, at which time, you could delete the post if you so wish, no one would know; it has not yet made it into the internet void, its just dangling somewhere in the air, like that little string of skin attached to your baby teeth about to fall off. But I digress...

Usually, upon called to dinner by my mother, I would save this post as a draft and come back to it later. But somehow I know I will end up avoiding the bold statement I've stated above. I will now publish this post, send it out into the internet world, so that I can abide by my own blog rules and will HAVE TO come back to this subject at a later time.

I bid thee goodnight, and a happy 2006.



It's kinda a cliff hanger, is it not? Dun dun dun!!!

Cute boy.
Cute waiter boy?
Cute chef boy.
Cute boy who cooks
Cute boy who cooks looks good in black apron speaks fluent french.
Cute boy.

Let me just say that Breakfast Burritos may just be the most perfect food on earth. You've got cheese, potatos, eggs, salsa, beans, and some kind of meat all wrapped up in a tortilla. So potable...so handheld...so YUMMY. They're so great, that they deserve to be capitalized in writing.

Wait...deja vu....I feel like I've blogged about this exact same thing already...But who cares. If you haven't read that post, then it's new to you.

And since when did Jodie Foster speak fluent French??

Good god, I'm still at work...waiting for renders is no fun.

So this is Christmas...so the song goes. I have nothing of interest to comment about lately. Either that or I can't remember any. To my right sits six bottles of Orange Cream soda, to my left, the packet of pop rocks is humping my spiderman mousepad. I wonder if I combine my left and my right, what will happen? Some people may guess that I'll explode. I don't think I'll explode, I think my mouth would just hurt alot. I mean, since I don't drink carbonated drinks often, just drinking soda alone hurts my mouth sometimes. So just imagine it with some watermelon pop rocks. Wow. The pain...

I still have remnants of Heath Ledger on my mind from last night's Brokeback viewing. Kinda slow but very...oy whats the word...(no not "burn". That's a Little Mermaid reference for ya K)...passionate I guess.

Ok, renders are done...back to work.

In reply to my email informing the staff at This American Life about the injustice on The OC (mention in my Nov. 17th post):

"HI, we were aware and actually offered a free gift to people who visited our website after the show for a few days ...

All best,

~e"

Bummer...I did not visit their website after the show, and thus, did not get my free gift. She didn't even tell me what the free gift was!!! Why didn't I even think to visit the website? Sheesh kabobs.

Good god, Santa sings!

Or should I say, holy jesus?

Not only does Santa sing, Santa sings in spanish! Santa stopped his picture taking amidst a long line of children, and proceeded to sing Feliz Navidad, while the instrumental music blasted on the speakers. I was so disgusted that I had to push my way through the crowd to get out ASAP. Whatever happened to the good ol days when you tell santa what you want, and then you get pushed down a huge slide by some weird elves? Ok, so I never really waited in line for santa, and that slide thing probably only happened to little ralphie, but still, how does santa have time to fit in a song or two with all those children waiting for him?

The holidays are a weird time for me. Every year, I WANT to get into the spirit, but every year, it just gets a little further and further away from me. I can't stand the crowds anymore, the commercials, and the waiting..., and ESPECIALLY the singing by santa, who should really just sit in his chair and say his ho ho ho's. I try to do it with the music, but even with that, there are some songs that really annoy me.

Oy..the holidays...the joy.

fuck.

Rather than do the usual "event blogging" (as Ms. Schu calls it I think?) where a blog of everything that happened to me during this year's Thanksgiving festivities is produced, I've decided to base this entry on thoughts and inquiries and wonders alone. I'll save my events for next time, perhaps.

I'll let you all in on a little secret: I'm in love. With a Mr. A-Z. My silly school girl crush that developed when I saw him last has now evolved into an all out love fest. ALL OUT I say.

It's weird. The first time I saw him, I developed the same type of silly crush for a couple days, and went back to business as usual. Last year around the same time, I saw him again, and same thing. But this year I can't seem to shake him off.

What is it about a boy, his guitar, a silly backwards cap, and a dreamy voice that makes me swoon? I knew he was one of those girl charmers the first time I learned of him: freshman year Vis 70N, it was a production class. Our final: interview a celebrity. What kind of weird assignment is that? Where were we to find celebrities in the city of SD? But alas, my group interviewed Tiffany. Y'know, the 80's version of Britney and Lindsay. Well, actually, I didn't know. Had no idea who she was until I heard one of her songs. Could've Been? Ring any bells? Well, even to this day I still only know Mandy Moore's version. Anyways, I digress.

So, when it came time to screen everyone's interviews, I was intrigued by this group that had interviewed some sort of no-name-not-quite-made-it-yet musician who seemed to have his own huge following in SD. They followed this guy around, in his car, to his house, asking him questions along the way. One point in the interview, they even showed him surprising some girl at her own birthday party, sat down, picked up his guitar and sang to her right then and there. She swooned. (I would have too.)

"No fair" I thought. They've interviewed some guy that's not even famous! Even though I was intrigued throughout the whole interview, I still didn't think the group followed directions for the assignment...he just wasn't a celebrity! Me and my stupid principles.

To this day, I keep wondering...had I been in a different group...THAT group, the group that interviewed him, I would've met him. I would have sat in his car asking him questions for the assignment. I would have been in his house while he showed us his practice room. I would've been at the birthday party where he made girls swoon. I would have been able to have a conversation with him. Perhaps we would have become friends? Perhaps he was in desperate need of a professional whistler? Who knows, I might've been the one touring with him right now, instead of writing this blog. Actually, he blogs too, so maybe we would be blogging together, but separately. You get the gist.

So you see, our paths almost-not-quite crossed. I feel like we have some sort of history together, even though he doesn't know it, and I'm kinda forcing it.

Maybe one day I'll meet him. But it wouldn't have been the same had we met for that interview. Because now, I'm just a silly fan with a silly crush. What would I say to him if I were to meet him tomorrow? Hey, love your music, your words, your voice, you? Nah, he gets that all the time.

I'd love to sit him down for just an hour with some coffee...and perhaps some apple pie, we'd chat and just shoot the shit. We could talk music, or not. We might learn that we both find the idea of pie very strange, but just can't resist the french apple kind, especially if its a la mode. We'd become great friends, I'd be invited to all the shows, even the ones in dublin. He'd soon realize that he has a professional whistler right under his nose so why isn't he using her to maximum capacity? I'd mull over the opportunity to tour with his band, just like I mull over everything else fantastic that happens in my life (why should he be any different right?). I'd weigh the pros and cons, and come to the decision that, aside from my fascination for anything livable and mobile ie, RVs, planes, trains, large tour busses, etc, that yes, I would rather like to tour with him and his band across the world.

And that, my dear reader, is what I think about amidst hours upon hours of holiday traffic.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? #003

I can't believe this! The OC has betrayed me!! (the show, not the county...at least not yet.)

Why would The OC hurt me like this? They made a reference to my favorite radio show of all time, This American Life, and then totally bagged on it. It's like...unwrapping a gift, and then immediately throwing it into the trash. That's what it's like.

"Is that the show where they make boring people interesting?" For real? I can't believe... One of the writers there must have something against Ira Glass. I wonder if he knows. I wonder if he watched the show tonight and cried. Well, probably not. Ira probably wouldn't be caught watching such a show. (or maybe he would?) But why would they do such a thing? I mean...to even refer to it, the way they've done with other hot topics in popular culture...is TAL suppose to be grateful that The OC is bringing attention to their show? Only to be made fun of by the cuter and cooler couple of The OC? Geez.

Good grief Charlie Brown. What kind of monster has television become?????????

Starting today, I will begin a series of investigative blogs called, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Entries will delve into the moronic and idiotic people, places, and things that I happen to come across throughout the day. And now, ladies and gentlemen,

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? #001

UPN News in Los Angeles...is it really "news"? Or just a clever covered up version of shows like Hardcopy and Entertainment Tonight in disguise?

Tonight, I happened to catch my first UPN News broadcast. Their opening act was a string of short 10 second clips featuring what will be covered on their upcoming news broadcast. I can't remember all the clips right now, I just remember thinking, "This is the news??"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

Second act: The broadcast begins.
They begin their top story with, not the bombing in Jordan that killed 50+ people, not Arnold and his failed propositions, but with Paris Hilton. PARIS HILTON??

Are you kidding me?

The story is as follows: The paparazzi follow Paris and her boyfriend and friends out of a Hollywood nightclub into their beamer, or porsche, or whatever crazy expensive car, and while trying to get away, the boyfriend rams his car into the back of a truck, then speeds away. Minutes later, they are stopped by police, and Paris is shown getting back into the car with her friends, saying to the cop as she walked away, "Thank you! I love the police!" All this, of course, is caught on paparrazi cameras. So, UPN investigates, shows a police deputy the tape, and asks whether Paris and her friends got special treatment, because they were obviously not sober. The story continues with the deputy sticking up for the cops, and blah blah blah. This story lasted, SERIOUSLY, for about 4-5 minutes. This might not seem like a long time, but just keep in mind, most news stories (live coverage not included) lasts about 1-2minutes...if they're lucky. Paris got 4, and was considered the top story on the 11pm news. Ugh.

Second story, which lasted another 3 minutes, was about 50cent's new movie, and the controversy surrounding it. Really now, is this real news? Hosted by a really hot anchor woman who once hosted "So you think you can dance?" This is why Hollywood gets such a bad rep I tell ya. I guess there's no need to miss the awful news in San Diego, I can just tune in to UPN News at 11.

As disappointing as his albums may be, Jason Mraz ALWAYS puts on an awesome live show. Just awesome. Plus he really knows how to make da ladies swoon. That really comes in handy when you're a rock star. When I become a rock star, I'm going to make the boys, the girls, AND yo mama swoon. I don't know how yet though, I need to find my schtick. Everyone's got a schtick. Jason's got his hat. Plus he's just really cute. No matter how geeky he is. THAT could be his schtick too. I thought the whole geek thing was just an act, yknow, I thought that doing the whole self proclaimed geek thing actually makes you cooler, thus making you not so much a geek. But it turns out he really IS a geek. It's like reverse reverse reverse psychology....or something like that.

Oh! I think I just found my schtick. But I'll have to keep it underwraps til after my rockstar-dom.

Rock on,
Rock out,
Just ROCK.

I just realized that you can't have coffee when you're pregnant. This realization came from learning that you can't have caffeine while pregnant.

WHAT?!

Which doctor made that rule? I'm sure fetuses (pl: feti?) need a little jump start to their mornings too. It can get a little *yawn* in that position after a while, yknow? They just need a little kick, just like the rest of us. I'm currently reliving the "No coffee" number from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying in my head. Aw...I miss the musical. Just like I will miss coffee...

No, that won't do at all.

On an unrelated topic, I think my bladder has shrunk. Every morning at 5am, like clockwork, I'll have to get up and pee. This didn't happen before! I used to be able to sleep a solid 8 hours without having to get up and pee. It really messes with my sleep, having to get up for those 3 minutes. I'm in the REM cycle, I'm out to pee, I'm back in the cycle, and I already have to wake up. I blame my bladder for my time at the NIKE run this year. If I didn't have to pee everytime I started running, I probably would have made a better time. Which is what I'm telling myself for losing steve. Ha. But it's true steve.

In closing: I'm on a mission...the specifics of which will be revealed at a later date.

God, I'm so glad I have my blog to vent about all the small annoyances in life that really don't matter, since people half way around the world are homeless and freezing in their non-existent homes...

Ahem.

1. Halloween. What happened to this beloved day? I used to love this day, now its just filled with stress. Stress over the strange need to dress up, possibly due to the need to re-live some sort of childhood memory that half exists in my head. Stress over the need to be something not too boring or over done, yet creative and recognizable at the same time, AND, not TOO slutty, but just slutty enough.

Ok, who am I kidding, I can't even pull off slutty.

2. Myspace. Everytime I sign on I'm reminded of why I signed off the last time. And yes, I'm a big hypocrite.

3. The growing need to look up more and more words like "hypocrite" on dictionary.com because it seems as though I'm losing my spelling abilities. I used to be the best speller ever...in 5th grade. Now I'm reduced to looking up words online and getting a correct spelling within 2 seconds or less, instead of flipping through thousands of delicate thin pages for a word I wasn't really sure how to spell in the first place. Now how will I ever learn this way?

4. Boys. The whole lot of them. 'Nuff said.

5. My current state of my apartment, and the spiders that have decided to fill it.

6. Holiday specific wares. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Valentines Day, whatever holiday, you name it, there's a decorative plate or something or the other for it. Who's buying this stuff? And worse yet, who's making it? Don't they know they're just increasing the clutter that exists in the world? How many sets of plates does one household of 4 really need? I can just go on and on about the kinds of unecessary and useless junk I see at stores like Linens and Things or BBB. I can go on, but for the sake of my blood pressure, I'll let it go...this time. I'll save my rant on the stuff in stores like that for later.


So, these are some of the things that annoy me right now. These are things that make me want to pull my hair, stamp my feet, scream and whine, and throw a tantrum like barbaric children. Oh yea,

7. Barbaric children who throw tantrums in stores you can't avoid. Like the grocery store.

I could throw a tantrum for all the things that annoy me right now, but no one's here to watch me, and really, isn't that the whole point of a tantrum, is to have someone around to throw it at? Otherwise, you'd throw one, and it would just land splat on the ground, with nobody but you to pick up the mess.

Which is why, dear blog, I have you.

Jess is back!

If even for only an episode, he's back nonetheless. And even though I think his days are up on this show, I'll gladly take some of him, than none at all.

I've finally finished Pride and Prejudice. The ending was a bit of a blur due to poor planning on my part. You see, I had to quickly finish the last ten chapters in an hour before it turned into an overdue book (again!), and I was not about to have yet another library fine (seeing how I already incurred some the day before). So, I tried to find another copy of it at the library so that I could check it out and finish the ending at my leisure at home, but to no avail. Alas, it was nowhere to be found. I then had to sit myself down and finish the last chapters in a hurry thinking that the library closed at 8, though I later found out it really closes at 9. In any case, Elizabeth does finally agree to take Mr. Darcy's hand afterall (gee, I didn't see that coming), and everyone is happy and all is well.

Except for me.

I now find myself conjecturing throughout the course of a day, fancying phrases like, "utmost care" or "urging earnestly." This is what happens when you read Austen. I should read more books with expletives for fuck's sake.

:)

Oh great. I'm a plagiarizer!

But can one be guilty of such a thing when one didn't even know that the thing to be plagiarized exists? I feel like my blog about nice was copied straight out of the ES script. Except they copied me. But did it first. And put it in a movie. Of course I had to blog about it second. I'm always late when it comes to this stuff.

Sigh...

Well, what else can I do, right? Just call me Clementine...

My orchestra has a concert coming up on Saturday.

There. Now when people ask me, "Why didn't you tell me?" I can tell them that I told the whole world, to which they can reply: But I don't read your blogs.

Ha ha... suckas!

Bruckman, I don't get it. By your story left on my blog, are you saying I don't have a personality? Or that it's not developed enough? Were you mocking my contempt for nice? Or was it more of a social commentary on something or the other that has just totally flown over my head? I just don't get it. And what's this about applying personality in a paste? How do I get in on that?

In any case...

I'm beginning to develop a fetish for denim butt pockets. I've never really noticed til now, but the decor of the butt pocket on denim jeans I must say, are just the greatest accent to something already so wonderful: jeans. I've never been much of a butt person, nor do I intend to become one, butt, I'll be on the lookout for butts more so now...for those wonderful butt pockets.

I do miss my butt slapping wars with the roommates though...where's a butt to slap when you need one?

Penny for my thoughts?

Are thoughts only worth a penny? If that's so, I can sell all of Daily Banterings for a good $5.00, which leaves me with $1.45 in profits. I can take that money, invest in a second blog, and see where we go from there. I'm moving up in the world, I tell ya.

Man, a breakfast burrito from Pepe's sure sounds good right now. If there was only a Pepe's around here.