KITTY!!!

My most important news of late is that I get to HAVE A NEW KITTY for my birfday. This one might even not bite me everyday, but to be honest, I'm not really holding my breath. I think this yearning was brought on not so much by my friends' assumptions that I will someday turn into a crazy cat lady, but moreso because I don't have a job. "But Meg," you say, "You graduated from college and everything? Why no job?" To which I reply, "I have no marketable skills. Kiss it." No really, I think I have job leprosy. Except when it comes to admin jobs. Administrative people freaking love the idea of me. Unfortunately, I've never been a good liar, so when they ask me what I want to be doing in 10 years and I reply, in the nicest manner possible, "not this", there's usually some kind of awkward silence. It's pretty cool.

Moving on, so I am getting a kitten. Namely, this kitten:



Hmm. He looks a wee tad demonic. Ah well. Beggars can't be choosers. My brother thinks that I'm just getting a kitten because I'm bored. Again, I say, suck it. I should have been a debater in high school. So now we must all think of a name. I'm pretty sure I'm going to call him either Dante or Micheangelo to keep with my angelically Italian theme. Serafina doesn't precisely live up to her namesake, but she does enjoy biting my ankles and sitting in shoeboxes, so that's pretty awesome.

At any rate, I have already had the suggestions "Puddle", "Batista", and "He looks stoned to me". So fire away. I'm all ears.

I sing ye praises, oh Guyver

I haven't seen a bad movie this awesome in awhile. It had it all. Monster costumes that were highly reminiscent of the same work in all 3 of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Mark Hamill (I believe I got his name wrong in the previous post), and Asian fetishes.

Seriously, the love interest for the rather all American Kansas city boy is someone who is supposed to be Japanese, but I'm pretty sure that she's Chinese or, in some strange world, Korean. Either way, the protagonist clearly watches a ton of Anime and wants her pretty bad for the duration of the hour and a half movie. The girl's dad turns into a giant monster fish at the beginning of the movie while he's fleeing some corporation's other giant fish-esque monsters, except the chick monster is hairy, which I don't really get. Anyway, so the old supposedly Japanese dude dies and his daughter is all sad and Sean, the protagonist Asian lover, is all sad because he was so going to make a move on Miski, the Chinese/Korean/Japanese girl. He sort of comes across this weird alien artifact while he is clearly spying on her. Incidentally, the artifact is hidden....hold on, there's a steamy love scene on TV.

Okay then, false alarm. Anyway, the artifact that Sean finds is hidden in a lunch box. So of course the fish mutants kidnap Miski and Mark Hamill plays some random FBI agent that also turns into a bug mutant at the end and dies, but more importantly, Sean turns into this alien suit thing and kicks some ass. Right before they RIP OUT HIS BRAIN. So that was awkward. But he regenerates by first making tentacley eyeball juice love to Miski's hand, right before she freaks out and throws him into some monster's mouth. Then Sean pops outta that dude just like Athena, ready to steal cities from Poseidon. The end is super awesome because not only is Miski held hostage *with a handkerchief*, but the final boss looks like Skeletor had a love child with a Jackalope. An ugly Jackalope.

Well, the moral of this hasty posting is that you people hella have to go out and rent the Guyver. If I ever buy it, I'll be sure to pass it along, but it's pretty key. Ooh! Also, at the end, when Sean morphs back into stupid crappy Sean from his Guyver cool form, he, naturally, shows up buck naked in front of Miski, who looks suspiciously like she's seen it all before. I mean, the boy is as bare as God pushed him into this world, EXCEPT that he's wearing sneakers and socks. Ingenious.

My week in verse

Actually, that's an outright lie. Instead I will use two lists, one good things that have happened to me and one of bad, and a simple numbering system, which I personally always thought worked better for poetry anyway.

Inferno

1. I woke up today to several things. Serafina had burrowed her way to between my feet and was mewing angrily everytime I moved. But, more importantly, my mother had called and left a message saying, "He didn't do it." Referring, naturally, to her 1 year old puppy that poos in my room pretty much every other day. I found out later that she was joking; though, ironically, I also found out that he had eaten two shoes of mine, one an expensive suede wedge, but I think the damage can be hidden, and one from a pair by Coach of wooden mules that, for the menfolk out there, look a little bit like this, but more summery with a wooden sole. I handed them to my mother in an "I told you so" fashion, and she estimates that she can sand them down. The fact that the dog almost ruined two pairs of shoes is bad, the image of my mother with an industrial sander is adorable.

2. I ate enough roasted potatos in one day to make a petite ox ill.

3. The sixth Harry Potter. I won't ruin it for others, but What the fuck, J.K.? What the fuck?

4. I spent an entire week watching Jeopardy hoping that the asshole that's the current champion will lose, with my hopes built up during one particular game by some dude that looks like John Malkovich, only to have them dashed in Final Jeopardy. It burns.

5. I decided I kind of like Mariah Carey's song "We Belong Together".

Paradiso

1. I realized that I hate Mariah Carey's song "We Belong Together".

2. I effectively convinced my mother to look online at kittens since I'm gunning to get a Havana Brown for my birthday.

3. I got to see the movies Ladyhawk, From Dusk Till Dawn, and I'm about to watch The Guyver. The best bad movie of all time starring none other than Mark Hamilton. Run, don't walk, to the video store.

4. I also ate almost an entire box of Honey Bunches of Oats (Strawberry edition) in under 4 days. Screw protein.

5. My mom's new hairstylist gave her a hair cut that resembles that of my 4th grade Texas history teacher. So cute. I made her wash it immediately.

Alrighty then.

Manly accessories are hard to find

So Richard and I decided to go shopping whilst he was in town over July 4th. Shopping for what you ask? And I will tell you: manly accessories. What does that mean, one wonders. I have no idea and neither does Richard. He's like an artist, the mall is his palette, his style is his canvas, and I'm a snotty critic that couldn't get a real job as an artist because I have no definable talent and smoke a pack a day. We perused the Galleria at what I considered to be the gayest shops I could find, but there were no bracelets or manly jewelry available. We even shopped at Kenneth Cole for a murse, but they must have been out or something. (I wonder where Oliver got his...) Finally, we ended up at Hot Topic, a store geared toward angsty, unloved teenagers. I felt a little out of place since I wasn't 13 anymore, but tried to fit into the vibe by cursing anything too mainstream and instead joining their national chain of rebellion. At any rate, they had a Slipknot sweatband, as well as one with hearts, which was my personal favorite. Richard also wanted to get a chain wallet, which I vetoed before he could get the phrase properly out of his mouth. I almost capitulated though when we found one with a squirrel on it that said "Beware the wrath of my nuts!" Those angry squirrels... I think in the end he decided just to get a tattoo, but I wanted to get a Grumpy Bear doll. So cuddly and angry. *giggle*

Speaking of shopping, a few days ago I went to an outlet mall in the Dallas area, which is full of nice stores. They even have an Adidas outlet, whose shoes I lurve, so I was particularly happy to see that there. I scampered in with a gleeful laugh and chose some items that are very sport trendy AND massively on sale. After gathering all of my little treasures together, I proceeded up to the front register and, naturally, got the most proficient register person they had. The conversation, though short, was priceless and went as follows:

boyman: "How are you today, ma'am?"
me: "Just fine."
*noticing that he has forgotten to ring up a jacket, I push it toward him*
me: "I think you left this out"
bm: "Oh...JK!"
me: *pause while I consider saying nothing* "What?"
bm: "What?"
me: "Really? JK? Like just kidding?"
bm: "Uhhh yeah." ~sing songy voice~ "Just kidding!"
me: "You need to IM less."
bm: "What?"
me: "Less IM, more real world."
bm: "Uhhh have a nice day."

God I am only 1 year out of college and I already hate high schoolers. In other news, I watched Catwoman today and wasn't nearly as disappointed as I could have been. As I told Khris, after seeing Elektra, nothing really seems that bad. It's like the world of cinema is outer space and some stars are simply brighter than others. And Elektra is a black hole, sucking out all of the life and joy you have ever garnered from film before. And those of you who can identify my accidental pun shall be well rewarded with the promise that I will *never* make you watch that movie. Needless to say, Beck was displeased because he thinks I tricked him into seeing a chick flick. Beck, no one said it wasn't going to BE a chick flick. And you should be happy I let you gaze upon Benjamin Bratt for that time. *gargling noises*

I want my mother to come back from Mexico

Namely because normally the dogs are her responsibility because, let's face it, they love her best and that's cool with me. Also, the puppy has been licking one of the legs of the chair in her office for about 10 minutes. That's gross and more than a little weird. I've also been on poo brigade all weekend because the puppy isn't fully trained, despite being a year old. He knows not to poo in the house in front of us, but that's not especially helpful when he goes ahead and does it anyway when we're not watching. Little bastard. He also has some aversion to grass. It's like hot lava for his little delicate paws and while I stand out in the middle of the yard calling to him, he kinda just looks at me askance and sits down on the driveway to avoid the lawn.

In other news, today is July 4th, but I went to an unprecedented display of fireworks last evening. I say unprecedented because July 4th is not really my holiday. I can't precisely see what all the fuss is about and I refuse to do battle with some random hicks just to see some fireworks. My friend Tony had a little "reception" at his airplane hanger at the Addison Airport, so me and some other people all scampered down there and had daiquiris and really spicy queso and waited for 2.5 hours to watch fireworks. We then waited another hour for the fireworks and then traffic. All in all it was more fun than I expected, mostly because of the people. I remained unimpressed by the bright lights, except when I was positive they were going to light us all on fire. I promised Gary $25 for each individual time he was engulfed in flames due to a firework, but despite their proximity (they set them off in the middle of the airport and they explode directly overhead), the wind blew most of the singey bits away. Cool. Also, *someone* tried to untie my halter top. Not cool. It comes off when you do that, guys. And if *someone* tickles me again, I'm going to hit him in the kidney and then kick him in the shins for good measure. Okay then.

Which brings me to an interesting conversation I had with Thomas, who is the sibling of my friend Amy. We were talking about wolphins, the product of a really horny dolphin and a really drunk orca. Ironically, orcas are in fact dolphins, as opposed to whales, so I wonder what genius thought that up. At any rate, I was prompted to ask the question of how the orca gets drunk enough to sleep with the prostitute of the seas. So, upon remunerating on what it would take to "set the mood", I came up with wine, Marvin Gaye, a really big bubble bath, a fireplace, oysters, and chocolate. Thomas came up with Barry Manilow and beer. And that, my friends, is the inherent difference between men and women. When I looked at him askance and said "Really?", his response was, "Well where would you even find that much bubble bath. Mine makes more sense." Sigh.