I GROK SPOCK

If this isn't enough to make Star Trek one of the best movies ever, then I have no idea what is wrong with you:
I also realized today that my top five favorite movies are as follows, in no particular order:

Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
Star Trek
James Cameron's Avatar
Dumb and Dumber
Hot Rod

What does that say about me?
Who cares?

:)

Santa Hookin' Me Up With Some Lady Gaga Heartbeats

See my new earphones? I <3>

I have to go to Andrews right now,but here is a list of five things I am in love with right this very second:

1. Downloading music.
2. My Zune
3. Orajel
4. Plaid
5. God.

More later. I'll let you know if Santa spent his (her) $108.24 wisely. If not, I'm going to write Lady Gaga and Dr. Dre a letter.

The City Calls.

(Source)

(Source)

When I feel alone, my heart always feels drawn to the city. It's difficult to disappear here. In a small town, there's so much familiarity.....and especially here, there's so much open space. There's nowhere to lose yourself where I live. There's nowhere to go in the middle of the night when you need some sort of nihilistic activity to keep your mind busy. I love the idea of being around hundreds and thousands of people, yet maintaining some anonymity. There's solace and companionship found in that, and in turn, a strange comfort. To me, the city is a brooding place. You can get on the subway and never, ever stop. You can walk on a bridge and watch thousands of lives and events unfold right in front of you, your presence unbeknown to the players. It's where I wish I was tonight....so that I could be lost and found; so that I might be alone and accompanied.

My heart doesn't feel right here. I wonder what it is that makes a heart feel settled, and whether that thing, that feeling, that person, is, or will ever be, within my grasp.

"SOO-DOO-KO", Christmas, etc.

Guess what it's time for again....

THE PARTY. My lovely Twilight-reading friends will once again gather for this momentous (and illegal) party. It is illegal this time, because New Moon is still in theatres. I have borrowed a surreptitiously made and obtained bootleg copy of the movie, which we will be watching on my new television. As the photo above indicates, there will once again be gifts. I can't show you what's in them, because the party isn't until Saturday, and some of the invitees read my blog, so NO MICHELLE. NO HINTS. I am very excited, but I still have to do some food shopping and decorating beforehand.

I also want to share with the world the fact that my parents, who don't look old, but actually are kind of old, now sit at the table and do Sudoku puzzles together. What's funny about this, is instead of using the proper pronunciation, which I believe is "soo-DOH-koo", they say, "SOO_doo-koh", which is funnier. They also each have their own SOODOOKOH system, and are insistent that their way is the best. Here is a picture of them at work when they came to visit me the other day:

This night was funny, because at one point, they were all quiet, and then my dad goes, "OH NO, I HAVE TWO FOURS!!!!" They are awesome.

And, finally, Christmas is upon us. I did happen to decorate, but somehow, I don't have one red or green decoration. Here is a photo of my living room:

I've really been enjoying the tree. I actually wish I could keep it up all the time, but I'm pretty sure that's one of those things that would very quickly push me even further into the "weird" category.

Lots to do yet. Ta ta.

Hello. I am not dead. PLUS, I HATE MY NEW NEIGHBOR.!! FAT BLOG POST!!!

Before anything, we shall discuss my new neighbor. This person has only been here for three days, and already, I have made some incredibly distressing observations:

1. There is a very cheesy, shellacked dresser that someone left in front of the hedge at the bottom of the stairs. I am guessing it broke when they tried to carry it upstairs, but instead of taking it over to the dumpster, they just left it by the bushes.
2. Every day, there has been some weird note stuck to her door from random people. I haven't gotten up the balls to read them, because it's not really any of my business, but the handwriting is loopy, and appears to belong to a stripper.
3. The neighbor owns a BICHON FRISE. I hate curly dogs. Period.
4. The neighbor, who is female, has had NO FEWER than FIVE DIFFERENT MEN over in less than a THREE DAY PERIOD. And I'm not talking good, or even decent-looking men. I am talking about scary, bearded, RAW men, with bandannas tied around their heads, and workboots on. I doubt they have even showered before coming over.
   
5. When I came home today, there was all this SHIT just PILED at the top of the stairs, on the landing. There's some huge backing to a cheap shelf, a box full of cheap shoes, TWO BAGS OF EFFING GARBAGE, and a small pile of self-help books, of which the top one reads, "FEELING GOOD: HOW TO DEAL WITH EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE." Great.
   
6. She has some manner of job where she comes and goes LATE, like past eleven. She does not dress like someone with an education, or even someone with a great deal of street sense.

I cannot deal with all this SHIT at the top of the stairs. Here. I will post a picture.

If anyone has some advice, I would love to hear it, because right now I am having fantasies of taping all of her garbage to her door.

Anyway.

I HAVE NOT TOLD YOU ANYTHING ABOUT AFI, which was LOVELY.....here is a photo:
We were right in the front....had a fantastic time. I love, love, love them.

I think I already mentioned that I got a new tattoo:

AFI stands for "A Fire Inside". This one was done at Southpaw Tattoo in San Antonio.

It's late, folks, and I have group tomorrow, and I want to get to sleep before midnight, so I'm going to shove off now, and try to forget about my neighbor, who will heretofore be known as "Bambi".

Ugh.

UGH! Facebook Rant, Sickness, Not even any good photos.

I don't even have a photo for you today. Not even a bad one.

It seems like since Thanksgiving, I have had some physical malady plaguing my general health.

First, it was the piercing. I pierced my bottom lip, on the right side. I absolutely adored it. It didn't hurt too badly, and really didn't swell...until about a week afterwards. The piercing itself was fine. It wasn't infected, what did swell up was the area of my lip right above the piercing. It swelled up so much that the skin broke, and everything stung like hell. It wouldn't go down, and the skin on the inside of my lip started to swell around the back of the post. Needless to say, it drove me to distraction and I had to take it out, which I was LOATHE to do, but had no choice. After a visit to my friend the doctor, she told me that I was ALLERGIC TO THE STAINLESS STEEL POST. What? I have stainless steel in my nose, I've had it in my tongue, NEVER had a problem. She tells me that the skin on the lip is more sensitive. Great. Allergic to stainless steel. Hope I never have to get any kind of lip surgery. Anyway, I loved the piercing, it was a pain in my craw to take it out, but as soon as I did, it healed up within two days, and the swelling was gone.

shit.

AFTERWARDS, I had to wait for the broken skin on my lip to heal, which took forever, and it HURT like a fever blister, but it wasn't a fever blister, it was a laceration, and it stung and throbbed like a robin's ass for almost a week. Then it went away.

I also got another tattoo, on the inside of my left wrist, thereby completely convincing my mother that I am either a devil worshiper, or an anarchist, or both. It has healed relatively well, but, thanks to the bitter cold weather (which i love, don't get me wrong) is still kind of dry-ish. I'm hoping that's temporary. I am also recovering from a sinus/respiratory infection that I came down with on Saturday and had to get a shot for on Monday. I still don't feel super, and my entire left sinus cavity is clogged and being difficult. I wish they could Roto-Rooter your sinuses.

Anyway, I'm about to go to bed, but first, a Facebook rant. This is not the first time anyone has typed this, but I'm going to just say it for myself:

I do not want to play Farmville. I do not want to know What Type of Alcohol You Are. I do not want to see that you have sent a "BLOND (misspelling copied from the actual post) WITH OILED UP MELONS" to your friends. I do not care that you cleaned your fish tank. I do not want to know Who Is Your True Love or what Sex In The City Character Are You. I do not want to see photos you took of yourself that give me a glimpse of your: a) cleavage; b)drunk face; or c) your cleavage or your drunk face. While I am quite sure that I have probably annoyed others with my own Facebook, activity, I am sick and cranky enough right now that I am comfortable just bitching about the violations listed above.

Ugh.