garnishing the cocktails of my mind
-[Though, I did love this sentence pair: This, in short, is our rink of dreams. If we build it, they should come.]
-Everyone wants to talk Sanjaya. Everyone. Unfortunately for all those people -- including the guy I've never seen in my life who rode three extra floors with me in an elevator at work to have the conversation -- I've never watched a single episode of a single season of American Idol. It's, like, the one reality show on television I refuse to commit to. [Something that, in and of itself, speaks volumes considering I watched All Aboard! Rosie's Family Cruise 15 times last year on HBO. And I would have kept going if Katie hadn't called an intervention. And still, I watched it again once last week.] TheGuyI'veNeverSeenInMyLife told me some ridiculous conspiracy theory that call center workers are calling in votes for MrMohawk. I'm here to say: it's not happening. As Indians, we engage in schadenfreude in a way that I almost can't explain in words. And we're known to eye with evil. Especially when it's one of our own.
-I've mentioned before that I hate pets. And I do hate pets, dogs and cats specifically. I hate how their owners kiss them and treat them like people and then wonder why a four-legged creature covered in fur and native to the wilderness ate their kid's arm. I hate pet funerals, pet outfits and when animals talk in movies. I hate Barbaro and Montecore and Tinkerbell, and I hate every single one of the animals stuck on the roof of a house that got a split second of air time during Hurricane Katrina. This week my rage went to a new place and I hated the 16 dogs that got so much attention post-PetFoodGate 2007. Especially when, by contrast, as of this writing, we've lost 3266 Americans in Iraq. That's all I'm saying.
-[SeeingEyeDogs are the exception to the above.]
-Sometimes I think America is like a 27-year-old woman. She chose, seven years ago, the guy who looked good in hats, who had a lot of swag, who was fun to go to bars with, but who ultimately became the guy whose decisions broke her heart three thousand times over. She wonders now what would have happened if she had chose that other guy, the boring guy, who talked about the unsexy things she didn't want to think about when she was 20, things like 'the future' and savings plans and renewable energy. She sighs. She knows, at that point, it was a gamble either way. She saw him the other night, the other guy, across a grand, glittering ballroom. He was wearing a tuxedo and someone else's ring and he'd gained some weight, but, when he touched her face, some of that old magic sizzled between them. She buried her face in his hand and they stared at each other, in a long glance that spoke volumes, for all the things that could have been. The irrational part of her wondered briefly if she should have fought harder for him; her more steadfast elements reminded her what's done is done, that everything happens for a reason, that all that matters now are the choices she makes for her future.
-And, to that end, America is, as Lester would say, "on the dating scene". She's got all these choices. Like, 22 freakin' choices. And she's looking for someone who is inherently good. And honest. Who wants to be with her for the long haul, for all the right reasons.
-I'll steal [once again] TWM's [once again] fair-haired muse and replace her with a choice of my own. And to that end TheMiddleAgedManCrush [not to be confused with TheOldManCrush (think: Lee Hamilton)] never disappoints. Sure, they're nerdy and rumpled and have a sense of humor that makes you roll your eyes. But, somewhere along the line, they made the intersection of Sensibility and Global Vision not just another good school district but the kind of place that makes you want to build a house, plant some trees and invest everything you have in tomorrow.
For your consideration: another curious collection of thoughts, reaction and observations that didn't make it into a full-length post this week. They're sort of like the people you've quietly crushed on and never confessed: sure, something sparked; sure, something lingered; sure, they still cross your mind [as they once crossed your path] from time to time, but you know in your heart of hearts that some things are better left fleeting, that anything more involved just wasn't meant to be.
-If my favorite image of the week was this, my favorite video of the week was surely this: At first it doesn't look so bad. Then you start thinking, "This is a really long zoom." Then you start thinking, "Dude, when is this camera going to stop zooming out?". And then, if you haven't dissolved into a fit of giggles, "What the fuck?! Is this a joke?" Though, the bug in the corner reminds you: C-SPAN rarely jokes and always comes to play.
-[True Confession] I cannot, for the life of me, understand debates over stadiums and casinos. I've tried. Hard. But when people start talking about either, there's a part of me that just shuts down. Ultimately, I find them to be a little bit like logarithms, where I'll never understand their genesis or reasoning or argument but mostly, I'll never want to.-[Though, I did love this sentence pair: This, in short, is our rink of dreams. If we build it, they should come.]
-Everyone wants to talk Sanjaya. Everyone. Unfortunately for all those people -- including the guy I've never seen in my life who rode three extra floors with me in an elevator at work to have the conversation -- I've never watched a single episode of a single season of American Idol. It's, like, the one reality show on television I refuse to commit to. [Something that, in and of itself, speaks volumes considering I watched All Aboard! Rosie's Family Cruise 15 times last year on HBO. And I would have kept going if Katie hadn't called an intervention. And still, I watched it again once last week.] TheGuyI'veNeverSeenInMyLife told me some ridiculous conspiracy theory that call center workers are calling in votes for MrMohawk. I'm here to say: it's not happening. As Indians, we engage in schadenfreude in a way that I almost can't explain in words. And we're known to eye with evil. Especially when it's one of our own.
-I've mentioned before that I hate pets. And I do hate pets, dogs and cats specifically. I hate how their owners kiss them and treat them like people and then wonder why a four-legged creature covered in fur and native to the wilderness ate their kid's arm. I hate pet funerals, pet outfits and when animals talk in movies. I hate Barbaro and Montecore and Tinkerbell, and I hate every single one of the animals stuck on the roof of a house that got a split second of air time during Hurricane Katrina. This week my rage went to a new place and I hated the 16 dogs that got so much attention post-PetFoodGate 2007. Especially when, by contrast, as of this writing, we've lost 3266 Americans in Iraq. That's all I'm saying.
-[SeeingEyeDogs are the exception to the above.]
-Sometimes I think America is like a 27-year-old woman. She chose, seven years ago, the guy who looked good in hats, who had a lot of swag, who was fun to go to bars with, but who ultimately became the guy whose decisions broke her heart three thousand times over. She wonders now what would have happened if she had chose that other guy, the boring guy, who talked about the unsexy things she didn't want to think about when she was 20, things like 'the future' and savings plans and renewable energy. She sighs. She knows, at that point, it was a gamble either way. She saw him the other night, the other guy, across a grand, glittering ballroom. He was wearing a tuxedo and someone else's ring and he'd gained some weight, but, when he touched her face, some of that old magic sizzled between them. She buried her face in his hand and they stared at each other, in a long glance that spoke volumes, for all the things that could have been. The irrational part of her wondered briefly if she should have fought harder for him; her more steadfast elements reminded her what's done is done, that everything happens for a reason, that all that matters now are the choices she makes for her future.
-And, to that end, America is, as Lester would say, "on the dating scene". She's got all these choices. Like, 22 freakin' choices. And she's looking for someone who is inherently good. And honest. Who wants to be with her for the long haul, for all the right reasons.
-I'll steal [once again] TWM's [once again] fair-haired muse and replace her with a choice of my own. And to that end TheMiddleAgedManCrush [not to be confused with TheOldManCrush (think: Lee Hamilton)] never disappoints. Sure, they're nerdy and rumpled and have a sense of humor that makes you roll your eyes. But, somewhere along the line, they made the intersection of Sensibility and Global Vision not just another good school district but the kind of place that makes you want to build a house, plant some trees and invest everything you have in tomorrow.
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