A Short Play

Scene: A kitchen filled with dwindling late-afternoon sunlight. A sluggish, still pajama-clad woman surveys the stack of dishes in the sink, then opens the door to the refrigerator; she stands there, contemplative. She pulls out a can of Coca-Cola.

Tired, 4 p.m. Gin: [pulls back the tab on the can]
Wired, 10:30 p.m. Gin: [rushes in, in slow motion] Nooooooooooo!

THE END

I hate when I put things off for so long that they take on a life of their own, occurring to me when I roll over in the middle of the night, making me break out into a bit of a cold sweat, and then because of the anxiety it caused, I Just Can’t Deal the next day, so it gets pushed off again…and then one day I pick up the phone and JUST DO IT, and in thirty seconds it is taken care of, and then I feel like an idiot for making such a big stupid deal over nothing. And then I blog about it so you can all know what a dum-dum I am. DAMN YOU, ANXIETY!

My work email keeps (helpfully!) telling me that my inbox is almost full. Why, yes! Full of crap and nonsense!

I really, really like Christina Hendricks. She is lovely and talented, and does an amazing job on Mad Men – no one else in this world could be Joan. It’s refreshing, to me, to see an actress that does not fit the sample-size mold being recognized and celebrated. But, by focusing on her non-modern-conventional Hollywood shape – by keeping that as the first thing that is mentioned in countless interviews – people are STILL REDUCING HER TO JUST HER BODY, and that pisses me off. So the industry pats themselves on the back for embracing a curvy girl, but…they are STILL REDUCING HER TO JUST HER BODY.

Thank you, that is all.

LOVE.

via Jezebel

Whataburger has sent me an email, encouraging me to celebrate Valentine's Day by dining in their fine establishment and having a Patty Melt Whatameal, buy one, get one free.

"Yes, love is in the air at Whataburger, and it smells a whole lot like melted cheese and grilled onions."

OMG IT TOTALLY DOES!

P.S. I totally love a good patty melt, but John, if you think you can get away with that for date night, you, sir, are sorely mistaken.

John will attest to the fact that I have been in an especially crabby mood lately. Okay, "crabby" is being kind: I've been a bitch, and in no mood to deal with all these people that have to be in the same places that I want to be and encroaching on my personal space. I know it's unreasonable, but you must realize that in my brain, I'm screaming "OH MY GOD, GO THE FUCK AWAY!", so the barely-audible griping is significantly toned down.

I don't know what it is, exactly, although news of the impacts to the budget of the space program last week did not exactly have me wanting to buy the world a Coke. I could blame it on my worry over job security, or the fact that the Babymaking Thing is not going well (although if I'm barren and unemployed by the end of the year, I won't have to stress about how to pay for all the baby stuff, hahaha LOOK AT ME FINDING THE GOOD.)

The past two nights I've had frantic dreams: last night I was naked and back in high school (in the dream, not for real, although that *would* make for a great story), and the only thing I could find to cover myself was the barely-butt-covering skirt that was part of my drill team full dress uniform. Except that when I put it on, my old director Miss Kathy came out of nowhere and had me get in height line so we could practice high kicks. NAKED HIGH KICKS. The one from the night before I was having to transfer cracked eggs from...something to another, and the whites kept slipping through my fingers and I would have to start over.

I don't recall now why I started this post.

Oh yes, a list!
We went out on Friday night, and my excitement over tasty tacos and hearing good, live music (there is nothing like being ten feet from the stage and just letting the sound overtake you, interrupt your heartbeat, rattle your brain around) quickly gave way to The Pouts because the bar crowd was full of especially obnoxious, we're-so-naughty-for-being-in-a-bar-and-sipping-white-wine-spritzers-with-our-split-sole-dance-shoes-and-sequined-tops-type people. To entertain myself, I made a list of the characters I observed:

• Foreign Guy Whose Only Frame Of Reference For An American Bar Is "Urban Cowboy" (note: I reeeeally tried to get a pic of him, but it was too dark and he was not quite drunk enough to not notice the flash of my camera)
• Vanilla Ice's Less Classy Younger Cousin
• Go-Go Boots Girl (who is a fixture at this place) In A Dress So Short We Were A Sneeze Away From Seeing Vagina
• That One Really Hyper Curly-Haired Girl That Everyone Seemed To Have In Their High School Class Whose Exuberant Dancing Led Her To Elbow Me In The Back Of The Neck Really Hard
• Trying Too Hard White Dude
  
• That One Guy In White Dress Shoes And A Standalone Mustache That Always Tries To Show Off By Doing The Splits
  

Sitting in the corner, drinking my beer, and composing this list as a draft text message kept me out of trouble (read: kept me from kicking that one guy who insisted on standing three inches in front of me and SHAKING HIS ASS in that We Are Two Wild And Crazy Guys way and playing air guitar, although upon further reflection, he maybe deserved it).

Anyway, perhaps I should just keep my head down and mouth shut this week.

We're passionate about our TV game shows that take place in a taxicab

gin_is Dudes on Cash Cab: Quit fucking off and get down to the answering. More cash that way! HELLOOO, STRATEGY

[Jo] @gin_is no kidding!! i hate when they waste time trying to be cool

[Jamie] @[Jo] @gin_is I'd rather look like a giant nerd and walk away with much more money than jack around like those fools.

gin_is @[Jo] YES! You know what would make you look cool? MAKING A SHITLOAD OF $ BY STAYING FOCUSED.

Holy crap, how can it not be Friday yet

15:50

C: http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/2010/02/03/monkey-business/

15:51

G: OH MY GOD

CLOSE CLOSE

I mean, I think monkeys are cute enough, don't get me wrong

But monkeys as babies creeps me out

And Family Of Monkeys As Babies As Featured In A Professional Photo is like Stephen King

15:52

C: I think Dressing Up Animals should be a hate-crime.
15:56

G: I think hats are okay.
Pants = Not Okay.

C: No.

They're animals.

G: But hats!

C: THEY DON'T WEAR CLOTHES.

Hats are clothes.

G: A HAT IS AN ACCESSORY

C: WE MUST STAND BY OUR PRINCIPLES.

G: We are cracking me up.

Today is infinitely less Pooptastic than yesterday.

15:58

C: Hats are like a gateway drug. You start out putting a hat on your dog, you end up putting pants on your monkey.

G: LOL

C: PUT THIS ON YOUR BLOG.

I dare you.