Anyways, here are the things I’ve learned today:

- The Nazis were big fans of Atlantis. They thought the survivors from Atlantis were the ancestors of the Aryan race, which is what made it so superior. Clearly.

- Career backup QB for the Indianapolis Colts, Jim Sorgi, was cut by the team and signed by the Giants. And someone edited his wikipedia page to say this: “On December 9, 2009, Sorgi was placed on injured reserve due to a strained right hamstring from holding Peyton Manning’s clipboard since his rookie year.” I swear it wasn’t me.

- Ricky Martin is officially out. (I found out from texts from last night. I am ashamed.)

- Taking Back Sunday released an album in June of 2009. I guess they’re officially off my radar. They recently announced they’re reuniting their Tell All Your Friends line up though.

However, if you would consistently lose at “Are you smarter than a 4th grader?”, or would choose to participate in that show at all, it is likely you are a dumb girl. (I do not mean to imply that this trait is unique to those without a Y chromosome. In fact, I am sure that there are more dumb dudes than ladies out there. But I am not trying to get a date from that pool.)

I get that no one likes learning chemistry. I will even forgive things like “your so cute”, cause hey compliments > grammar. Oh, you don’t “kno” what “>” means? Sigh. This isn’t going to work out, is it?

I need to keep this short. Anyways, I just imagine someone going to every store in a strip mall and asking if they carry novelty size antlers, appropriate for attaching to a car. It’s stuff like this that made the Grinch so mad about Christmas.

Anyways, the day after Christmas, I went back to UMass for the first time since graduating. People always say it’s like a city — except most cities don’t empty out for break. It was completely empty. I walked around for almost three hours without seeing another human being. Since I basically never slept when I went there, I had walked around campus at all hours. I had never seen anything like this. It was bizarre.

So, if going back to some place you spent four years of your life isn’t unnerving enough, wait for it to be abandoned and visit.

I’m not bitter,
it’s just I’ve past that point in my life.

However, if you would consistently lose at “Are you smarter than a 4^th grader?”, or would choose to participate in that show at all, it is likely you are a dumb girl. (I do not mean to imply that this trait is unique to those without a Y chromosome. In fact, I am sure that there are more dumb dudes than ladies out there. But I am not trying to get a date from that pool.)

I get that no one likes learning chemistry. I will even forgive things like “your so cute”, cause hey compliments > grammar. Oh, you don’t “kno” what “>” means? Sigh. This isn’t going to work out, is it?

Who doesn’t like getting well-wishing text messages on their birthday?

Texting me at 11:38pm the day before my birthday is like the sweetest thing ever. Thank you for thinking of me (i.e. checking facebook and seeing that my birthday is coming up).

The thing is, when that text message says, Happy Bday! I know it’s early, but it’s midnight somewhere… it hurts my soul.

At 11:38, it is 12:38 somewhere. It is 1:38 somewhere. But there is nowhere that it is 12:00. It’s time zones. WE ALL FUCKING LEARNED TIME ZONES IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. And back then, every topic took a week. Were you absent the whole week? Was that the time you had chicken pox? It’s called make up work.

And when you say something that dumb, the following things run through my mind:

And now it’s 22 minutes until my birthday, my mind is full of thoughts about how the American educational system is faltering badly, and it’s all your fault.

I’m sure it’s strange that my mind works this way, but we’re just always going to be different that way, aren’t we? This isn’t going to work out, is it?

Here’s take two:

My last apartment was shitty. Really shitty. For some inexplicable reason, it had these two huge eagles on the front of the building. At least six times a week I would see someone passing by stop to wonder why such a terrible building had these eagles. I never knew.

Here’s what I had at the 45 minute mark:

60 minutes in, after the break:

As a result, I am rolling out the first installment of my second art project. Here’s the way it works: I take a picture of something. I give myself an hour to draw it. No overtime, and I have to post the results no matter how I feel. Rinse. Repeat. I was going to call it “Drawn in 60 Minutes” (get it?) but I am still debating. In the meantime, here’s take one:

I feel very, very out of practice.

And no I’m not talking about the complex set of neuron firings, muscle reactions, and laws of physics that are required every time I make any sort of motion. (Although there are some mornings that I feel this way. I have a very serious coffee addiction.)

I am talking about the process of put-everything-you-own-in-boxes-consider-what-you-have-accomplished-since-the-last-time-you-did-this. I’ve done this every year for the last 7 years, and it’s always been in August. (Not to get off track, but August is the worst month. Hot. No holidays.)

Moving isn’t one terrible thing. It’s three. There’s the week of packing beforehand, as you continue to live in a place as it goes to shambles. Then there’s the nightmare of coordinating and carrying that is moving itself. And of course, you are exhausted, sweaty, and angry, and you can’t nap because your bed is underneath everything you own in the world, which brings you to phrase 3: unpacking.

In case you’re wondering, it is a lot easier to get a printer into a metal waste basket then it is to get it out. That shit was like Excalibur.

Naturally, it’s only when I’m moving out of a place that I realize I have absolutely no photographic proof that I ever lived there.

My life in shambles 2008:

My life in shambles 2009:

Ugh. The number of things these pictures have in common is going to give me nightmares.

some things,
Never Change

The Green Monster Burger – The Real Deal, Jamaica Plain, MA

Some might argue that a hamburger cannot be a sandwich. I argue that a hamburger might be the best kind of sandwich. Try to approach life with an open mind.

Anyways, the deliciousness of this burger speaks for itself. Avocado. Cheddar. Bacon. Any one of these things is a worthwhile eating experience. When you combine them all and add a burger underneath, you start to complete my life.

avoiding,
Puns

I have such questionable maturity.

catching,
Up

Slow down dedicated Marky Mark fans, I am not speaking of your beloved actor, rapper, producer Mark Wahlberg. I would never dare call him a B list celebrity.  Put away your torches, you funky bunch.

No friends, I am speaking (writing?) of Mark Walberg, the prolific gameshow host. Since I have spent most of my week off watching Temptation Island (a Fox reality show, circa 2001) courtesy of Hulu, my mind has wandered to wonder where the “other” Mark Wal[h]berg has been. Well, he has apparently been spending his time hosting a new Fox reality show, Moment of Truth.  It’s nice to know that there is someone besides me that has changed so little in the last 8 years. Stay strong Mark L. Walberg.

the,
Happening