Pandas are so cute they actually make my teeth hurt. Seriously, I can't stand it! I mean, I know I said it about the baby penguins, but there ain't no human baby this cute!

macamonies

Whenever I make Kraft mac n cheese with the powder cheese, it always ends up a little runny. I could never figure out the right milk and butter ratio. Plus I usually use skim milk because that's what I have in the fridge so that doesn't help the runny factor either. Yesterday though, I happened to have some heavy cream in the fridge. Well, problem solved! No more runny cheese!

Of course, then things got weird when I added jalapeno jelly and crushed potato chips on top. But it was soooo good.

Why do I know this?

There are two pictures of Summer Redstone and Tom Freston in this week's EW. There aren't any captions with the pictures, but I saw them and saw the word "Viacom" and both their names popped into my head. I mean, I'm kind of appalled I not only know who Tom Freston is, but that I also know what he looks like. What kind of crazy, useless shit is stored inside my head and is that why there isn't room for me to remember where my keys are?

411 this ain't

I got a comment to one of my posts that strikes me as totally absurd. This is what it said:

"doer" said...
Hello, just visited your blog, it's informative. I also have a Ebay related web site. Please visit and hope that it's useful.

Keep in mind this is in response to a post about how I dreamt I was in love with Lance Armstrong and he was in love with my mother (that still kind of creeps me out). I mean, I'm not trying to sell myself short, but if there's one thing my website is NOT, it's informative.

Eat Buttons and Die!

I've lived in New York for over seven years, but this recent episode has to be one of my favorite stories. A few weeks ago I went to City Center's Fall for Dance Festival for the first time. As those who have been can attest, seating is cramped. It's nearly 8:00 and there is no one sitting next to me, so I'm feeling hopeful. Of course, this was not to be. I end up sitting next to quite possibly the meanest woman in the city! The first piece is Molissa Fenley & Dancers performing Hemispheres, to which there is no music for the first ten minutes or so. You can hear every cough and twitch and of course, everyone starts turning off their cells (why they couldn't do that before the show started, I have no idea). There is a lady behind us (also not very nice) (apparently) who doesn't seem to know how to turn off her phone. She is pressing a lot of buttons. That is when this exchange takes place:

Lady Beside Me: Turn off your cell phone!
Lady Behind Me: That's what I'm tryin' to do. You wanna turn it off for me?!?!
Beside: Eat your buttons!
Behind: Why don't you eat my buttons?
Beside: Drop dead!

To which there is no comeback. But seriously, "Eat your button!"? What kind of comeback is that? The best part is that the lady beside me hated Hemispheres.

All Quiet on the Western Front

Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front may very well be the greatest war novel of all time, as the dust jacket proudly proclaimed. It was remarkably moving, well-written, funny...all those things a great book should be. Written from the perspective of a German--the "enemy"--you realize life is life, regardless of sides. The books that have made me cry can be counted on one hand and this one made me weep quite bitterly at the end.

Favorite quote: In himself man is essentially a beast, only he butters it over like a slice of bread with a little decorum.

Where do these people come from?

I dreamt I was in love with Lance Armstrong but...he was in love with my mother! She cared not a fig for him.

Grrrrrr...

I'm not in a good mood today. It's way too busy at work; I think I'm getting an ulcer. I'm going on vacation for a wedding but all I really want to do is sit on the couch at stare at the walls for four days [no offense to my very dear friend getting married]. And then I get this work email that is just bullshit. We're all about sending out bullshit emails that don't mean anything or have anything to do with work, really, (like "there are cookies on the table" or "come see my band play") and it was the breaking point for me. What I really want to do is punch my fist through the computer screen and use the keyboard as a sledgehammer. But that would be viewed by my co-workers as "crazy" behavior. So all I can really do is delete the stupid email. But, man, did I click "delete" with all my mighty fury!