31 May: A "This I Dig" Audio Daily Double! (Er, triple)

I love game shows (see several entries). When I was a freshman in high school, I had the opportunity to audition for the teen version of "Jeopardy!"; I was one of nine people who passed the written test in my group (and the only girl), but my failure to distinguish between important knowledge (like rock band front-men, which I didn't know) and trivial horseshit (like US history, literature, or the New Testament, which I did) led to my failure to move on to the actual show. It's just as well, I'm guessing -- my little bit on the test which asked me if I had any interesting facts/anecdotes about myself was left essentially blank. It'd probably be blank if I took the test tomorrow, come to think of it.

Why do I bring this up? Besides the whole "Audio Daily Double" pun (if it is indeed a pun, which I'm pretty sure it's not), no reason. I just never know how to open these silly things. Maybe go blog-generic and post a cute picture or something. Sure, let's do that:

This is literally the first thing that came up when I 

did a google image search for "cute picture".

Now on to the wit, insight, and humo(u)r that you've come to hope for (but never quite get).

Postcards From the Edge of Sanity: The Fish Tanks

This is the first in a multi-part series, in an effort to remind myself that my job, while 200% more tolerable than it was just a few weeks ago, is still crap.

Wish you were here (so I wouldn't have to be)!

When I was told that I would be working the pet department at my store, I was originally thrilled. Firstly, and most importantly, I wasn't going to be a cashier anymore, and somehow, I felt that the idiots would magically disappear once I was out on the wide open space of the floor; alas, that was far from the truth, and the aforementioned idiots will doubtless be the subject of several of these little postcards, but that is not the topic for tonight. Secondly, I thought that it would be fun to fiddle around with dog and cat stuff, gain some muscles by schlepping the large bags of food everywhere, and basically have an all-around good time.

That was when I met the fish tank. I hate those damned things.

This I Dig of Thee: 23 May 2010

I think that's the name of a song -- "This I Dig of Thee" -- but I can't find any mention of it anywhere on the world wide interwebs, so maybe I made it up. I couldn't have, though; it sounds way too hip to be anything I created. Hank Mobley rings a bell... oh wait, it's "This I Dig of You," not "thee." I'm an idiot. But it's a good tune -- nay, a great tune:






To the jump!

Housekeeping, and a Birthday update!

First off, a few announcements:

1) In an effort to write regularly, I'll be doing two regular bits a week -- my always-disappointing "3 Things I Dig (this week)" on Sundays (that's today!), and a new(er), more ranty feature, which is tentatively called "Vignettes From the Edge of Sanity" on Thursdays, and will predominately feature crazy stuff that happens to me personally at work. In other words: if you read this, and you happen to work with me, reading the Thursday will be a high-risk, high-reward venture, hilarious and depressing at the same time. Again, I'll try and be as consistent with this as possible (more for me than for you, trust me), and you can all feel free to yell at me if I fail in this epically simple task.

2) The other bits of this blog will be, basically, one-off rants and philosophical musings which, I'm warning you now, may not be of interest to anyone. Suggestions for rants and general comments, as always, are welcome.

26 Things I Want (but won't get) For My Birthday: 1-10

And yes, I know that I did my countdown backward in the title; it just seems so weird typing "10-1," like it's a baseball game gone wrong or a police code or something. Anyway, it's time to get on with it, I suppose, but before that, a bit of an update: #24 on my list was something I actually got as an early gift -- not only that, but I now have a grand total of elven -- 11! -- followers, including my own dear mother (hi Mom! Love you!), which is about 11 more followers than I thought I'd get. So thank you, all eleven of you, and on with the countdown.

Incidentally,  I have been informed that, in some respect, my blog titles are purveyors of false advertising, as several of the items are things that I actually could conceivably get for my birthday (see: #24), and that I'm sort of letting some people down. Well, let me promise you now that this final ten will be all completely unattainable -- at least in the next month or so. This I promise you. On we gooooooo.....!!

$160 million Picasso painting: Not on the list

26 Things I Want (but won't get) For My Birthday: 20-11

Seriously, I'm having a hard time making this list, kids. Most things I want are, conveniently, things I'll never have, but they also tend to be things that no one else but me would want, which tends to make for a difficult time, if my aim is to bring people into my world through the tubes of the internets. Still, I started, so I guess I'll trudge on.

Not on the list. Seriously.

26 Things I Want (but won't get) For My Birthday: 26-21

On May 31st, I turn 26. Twenty. Six. It seems like only last week I was celebrating my 18th at my parents' old house, surrounded by high school friends -- and indeed, only yesterday since I was playing a gig, hung over from my hell-raising 21st on the UO campus. If I start to think about what I should have accomplished by this point -- what my contemporaries are doing, with proper jobs and families and 401ks -- it'll be altogether too depressing for words, so instead of focusing on boring unattainable things, I'll be talking for the next few posts about superficially mood-lightening, nay, fun, unattainable things. Although I don't particularly want (or expect) anything for my birthday, it's still fun to make a wish-list, yeah? I like to think of it as a subtle hint to my non-existent wealthy friends -- you can decide for yourself if the wealth or the friends are non-existent.

The countdown begins, well, now. Numbers 26-20 are after the jump.