And I�m back. You would think, what with all the No Job I�m having, I would find more time to update my journal, but I guess you would be WRONG, BITCH! Sorry, I don�t know where all that unchecked rage is coming from. Possibly a symptom of my unrelenting cabin fever. I mean, I manage to get out of the house at least once a day�the liquor store isn�t going to come to ME, after all (at least, not without a delivery charge)�but otherwise I divide my time equally between listening to my neighbor harangue her no-account boyfriend loudly and tearfully over the phone, and Rachael Ray�s thousand-watt perkiness and brain-rending jokes.
Speaking of Rachael Ray, I�ve decided she�s actually a lot more talented than I had hitherto given her credit for. I mean, okay, so she can get on my nerves and stuff, and I have grave reservations about the safety of eating her food (the woman handles RAW MEAT with her BARE HANDS and then touches everything, and then �washes up� basically by rinsing her hands real quick in cold water�it�s a wonder the entire network hasn�t died of trichinosis yet), but the chick can chop an onion like it�s going out of style, AND she can talk for thirty minutes straight. I mean, I can do one of those things (and it�s not the one with the quickly moving blade near my tender, pink fingers), and even then not about food. I mean, if I was charged with talking for thirty minutes in front of a camera while cooking stuff, I�d probably spend at least twenty minutes talking about Veronica Mars.
Anyway, I also caught an episode of Semi-Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee the other day. I�d never seen more than thirty seconds of this show before, and now I believe there was a reason for that: Fate. Fate was looking out for me, y�all. Sandra Lee scared me so bad I felt it in my sperm. My children will all be born with an innate terror of tall, skinny blondes with prominent neck cords. I mean, seriously; WHAT is with the neck cords? She was in some promo spot for the Food Network�s holiday push, and it was this big old close up of her with her neck stripped bare to the world, and I couldn�t see anything else! It was like watching the inside of a piano! And if only that was the scary part.
Aside from acting like Donna Reed wacked out on mescalin, she also has this jarring habit of lurching forward suddenly and unexpectedly into the camera and POPPING her eyes open real wide in order to emphasize a point. Like she�s going to dive through your TV screen like that little girl from The Ring and eat your soul with a bit of store-bought relish. She also won�t stop moving, and chirps really, really excitedly at you about how FABULOUS everything is going to taste and how AMAZED your guests are all going to be, and it starts to feel like maybe you�re being brainwashed. Like the real Sandra Lee is being held in an underground bunker somewhere while her evil femme-bot clone hypnotizes you through the television to do its bidding. It�s creepy, y�all.
Of course, this wasn�t what I was planning to write about. Believe it or not, I was going to give you all a quick rundown of last weekend, which was a cavalcade of eventful happenings. But I�ve sort of shot way past the target, so never mind. Suffice it to say that there were dessert parties and birthday parties and office parties and fondue parties and cookie parties and me shoving my face all weekend long, and now I�m ready to hibernate for the winter.
Or to go home for the holidays. I leave on Sunday to head back to the great white north, and I�m rather looking forward to it. The holiday season is always a fun one, despite all the requisite complaining about the family gauntlet, and since I�m unemployed, it�s not like I�m going to be all antsy as I worry about the money I�m not making. Okay, I�ll still be antsy and worried about the money I�m not making (and spending), but no MORE worried than I�d be just sitting here in my apartment and watching Rachael Ray squeal at me, or listening to my neighbor call her boyfriend a fucking liar.
And with that, I bid you adieu.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: faxed exorcism I�m Watching: Everything. Wednesday night owns me now, you guys. I�m Reading: Occasionally, when I get the chance. But seriously, still working on Byzantium.