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Archive for April, 2011


Friday, April 29th, 2011

I didn’t watch the wedding. I may have had two margaritas last night after my Theory of Computation final, and then I may have stayed up late, and then I may have woken up at like 8, and then, perhaps, I may have napped for two hours at lunchtime today.

At what point is it long enough that it doesn’t count as a nap?

Anyway – this is what I expect the wedding looked like:



so many terrible jokes, so little time

Thursday, April 28th, 2011

My brother and I find that our sense of humor intersects in some dark, dark corners of the universe.

This, despite the tattoo artist’s conviction that we were playing some sort of prank on her, is not what I’m talking about. (He has one too).

One Thanksgiving, we ended up laughing so hard we almost puked over this idea: gift baskets for death row inmates. See, if you delivered them late enough, they wouldn’t have time to open or eat everything in there, and you could just sell the whole basket to the family of the next guy in line.

I know. It’s not funny.

Or the time we found the girl who was killed in Monty Python because she weighed the same as a duck absolutely hilarious. I mean, that shit is funny – Monty Python always is – but the idea of that girl looking across and realizing that she weighed the same as a duck and that meant she was going to be drowned as a witch? Pee in your pants funny. Had she been dieting?

The day before yesterday, for reasons unknown, we were discussing whether or not we should have wills. We’re grown ups, with stuff – what happens to our stuff if we die?

We established that if we did write wills, they’d probably be full of secret fuck-yous. Like, to this woman at school (I know this comes as a shock, but I’m not actually crazy about everyone at my school), I would leave all of my ugly clothes. But I wouldn’t say it that way, so she might actually wear them.

Huh. Now that I think about it, that secret dark corner where our humor intersects seems to just be somewhere mean.

Last night I was all loopy and I was trying to tell jokes to Crockett, and here’s the best one I came up with:

Q: What’s more violent than hockey?

A: Getting stabbed in the neck by Jack Bauer.

I still think it’s funny.

See? Mean.

I know where I’ll be Friday morning

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011

Actually, I don’t.

I may watch the ceremony. On ABC, probably, because that seems to be where it’s streaming live.

(If you don’t know what ceremony I’m talking about, where the hell have you been for the last three months? No, really? Did you go to space? Was it nice there?)

I don’t really care about Wills and Kate in any major way. I sort of knew that Prince William had a girlfriend, and I was sort of cranky because that meant that I wasn’t Prince William’s girlfriend (or more accurately, Princess-to-be Emma). I’m not nuts about Harry and his Ron Weasley hair.

I do, however, have a few more chances to become a princess.

Hamdan bin Mohammed Al Maktoum


  • He’s almost the same age as me (being that ten-years older queen screams of Katherine, sent away by Henry VIII when he found someone younger).
  • He’s pretty cute.
  • He’s the hereditary prince of Dubai. You know, Dubai? Where they build islands shaped like pineapples just cause they feel like it?


  • “Sheikh Hamdan also has a passion for camels, cars and skydiving.”

Prince Azim


  • He apparently throws banging parties (his 27th birthday was named Party of the Year in 2009). Diana Ross was there. Meeting Diana Ross would be almost as awesome as marrying a prince. Plus, Scarlett Johansson was there, and in 2009 she was still with Ryan Reynolds, and he was probably there too, and he is one of my many potential soulmates, and I bet he totally would make out with a princess.
  • He is all kinds of charitable.
  • He is heir to a the $22 billion fortune of Brunei.


  • It’s rumored that he pays those celebrities to attend his parties.
  • Look at his goatee.


Prince Carl Philip


  • Just look at him. A prince and a face like that? Dude.
  • I can in fact point to Sweden on a map. Dubai and Brunei? Not so much.


  • He has a girlfriend. Or possibly two. Maybe three. One was named Emma.

Prince Andrea Casiraghi


  • Again – how do you get to be the heir to a throne AND LOOK LIKE THAT?
  • I bet if you’re dating the prince of Monaco you get some wicked good seats to that car race thing they do.


  • He’s apparently sort of a player. That’s a mediocre con at best.
  • He’s 26. That’s not quite Katherine territory, but it’s getting close.
  • He’s not actually exactly a prince. Prince Albert II has to die without having (legitimate) kids, and then Andrea has to chance his name to Grimaldi, and then he’ll be prince.

Princes Albert

There are at least two Prince Alberts. One races cars and one might be gay and also has to die so that Andrea (above) can be prince.


  • … in a can.

Prince Wenzeslaus


  • He’s 36.
  • The Liechtenstein royals are the richest royal family in Europe.


  • He used to date Adriana Lima (the Victoria’s Secret model).  There’s nothing wrong with that, I just don’t really feel like seeing my picture next to hers in every tabloid forever and ever.
  • There are a bunch of pictures of him in stupid tee-shirts.

Prince Philippos


  • He goes to Georgetown University – easier to find.
  • Greece is cool.


  • Greece technically abolished their monarchy, so the princess thing is sort of nominal.
  • He’s 25. And also looks like he wears a lot of hair product.


There you go. Those are my remaining chances for having a royal wedding of my own.

Unless of course Crockett has royal lineage and hasn’t told me.

But if I’m secretly hoping for a surprise royal lineage, I’m going to go ahead and hope that it’s mine, not his.

I want to be my own princess.

Tomorrow – the royal wedding food!

Friday, if I feel like it, perhaps I’ll liveblog the wedding itself!

(Apparently I care about this more than I claimed several paragraphs and princes ago).



Tuesday, April 26th, 2011

There is very little in the world that makes me angry faster than someone trying to pull a punch when they’re telling me something they think I won’t like.

So. Obviously, an example is forthcoming. I’m working on this presentation. My guidelines for the presentation consisted of a single sentence – ‘show things that high school students can do to prepare themselves for computer science in college, other than taking CS in high school’.

Fine. I took that sentence and ran with it.

What I came up with wasn’t directionally identical to what the person who asked me for it originally had in mind. Hold on while I read that sentence again…. ok, I’m going to call it good and move on. Confusing, sure, but sometimes I’m confusing okay JEESH.

So sure, what I came up with wasn’t quite what she wanted. Fine.

She told me that slowly, over ten or fifteen sentences, with little compliments strewn in between, and a concerned look on her face.

You’re not telling me I have incurable cancer of the toe, lady, you’re telling me that my understanding of your short instruction is different from how you intended it. You are telling me that now, during the last two weeks of the semester, I have to start something over again, which sucks, but it’s not TOE CANCER.

I don’t actually know if toe cancer is a thing, by the way. You can get cancer anywhere, right?

I wouldn’t have minded if she’d been like hey, this isn’t what I was going for – sorry for the confusion but let’s get this fixed. Instead she acted like I was unbalanced.

Which I’m not.

Obviously. Because rants like this always come from completely balanced people.

It’s just, if something is wrong, being babied while I’m told about it makes it worse. I’m a rip-off-the-bandaid, tell-me-I-smell-right-when-you-notice-it-and-then-make-a-joke-about-it kind of girl.

What makes you irrational angry?

summer lovin’

Monday, April 25th, 2011

Do you go through new and old music phases?

Not like today: Kanye, tomorrow: Bach. More like today: I want nothing more than to listen to something I know and love – something I can sing and dance too because I know every word and beat. Tomorrow, perhaps I’ll want to listen to the new Kanye. Or the new Paul Simon (on brief first listen, it sounded like Pauly was a little sad – cheer up, dude. Or at least be sad and wry, like in some of the Graceland songs).

Graceland is the greatest album of all time.

Anyway, I just bought something I can’t believe I didn’t already own.

The Grease Soundtrack.

Tell me more, tell me moooOOOOREEEEEEE.

*Did you know that on certain blogs, if you click on Amazon links and then buy what was linked, the blogger gets a percentage of that sale? They’re called Amazon Affiliates. I think it’s a neat idea, but I’m not one – the affilate program isn’t available in Colorado. Sad but true. Buy yourself a copy of Grease if you don’t already have one, but don’t think I’m getting anything out of it. Except for the satisfaction of a job well done, of course.