Hilabulous

I am now coining the term "hilabulous," meaning hilarious and fabulous. For example, the music video for "If I Had You" by Adam Lambert. Many entertaining things have that nebulous novelty quality about them that I think can be defined under this new word. The Twilight Saga: hilabulous. Drag queens: hilabulous. You get the point.

What Makes People Funny?

The need to pursue comedy as a hobby has finally been birthed. It's been gestating for a while, and my water finally broke when I heard of a friend's recent interest in comedy writing. She's been going about it much more pragmatically than I would have done, which is probably the better way - to actually study the art of jokes. I've proposed a union, the ends being something along the lines of dual stand-up at open mic night. Having grown up craving attention, and really thriving within my few successful one-liners, I can mark off another item on my proverbial bucket list if this succeeds in any way.

Proposing this idea to my friend and also to myself makes me feel even more chaotic than ever. Just this morning I was bound and determined to return to school for a postbac in graphic design. Lack of focus has always been my downfall. Literally and figuratively, I need some effing corrective lenses up in this bitch.

You Y-Y-Y-Y-Y You

I've made the executive decision to make this blog exclusively about Adam Lambert. Not this post. The ENTIRE BLOG. I mean come on. Okay so I don't watch America's Next Top Model, and okay so I've only seen maybe three videos that feature him. But I am in. love. I want to pinch his fucking cheeks off. He's kindof a little Ra from the 1994 Stargate, and maybe that's why I love him so much.

Dog Days of Horror

This. This is what makes the internet such a wonderful place.

Reading Through Customer Comments

If you're going to visit my portion of the museum where we announce several times that sound will not be tolerated and that you will be escorted out, don't leave complaints about how you and your screaming baby were asked to leave.

If you're going to visit my portion of the museum where we announce several times that the nighttime laser shows are very loud and that we provide ear plugs for those who want or need them, don't leave complaints about how you and your husband plugged your ears for a few minutes and then were forced to leave.

For. Reals. People.

No Brows About It

What happened in my early childhood that made me completely incompetent at doing girly things?? Or even taking a desired look, and then being able to replicate it..? I feel like all my efforts are being spent covering up all the cosmetic blunders I've made.

Every time I attempt to put on makeup, it's like I'm a little girl who's gotten ahold of her mom's lipstick - smearing it around like a dejected, drug addled, clown.

Whenever I try and do minor adjustments, like trim bangs or pluck my eyebrows, it's always a "run-in with the scissors." This, my friends, is how I ended up bald once.

Just now I tried to pluck my eyebrows into some desirable shape, as I've come to realize just about everyone does SOMETHING appealing with their brow hairs. ...Where the peak of my right brow should be, there's now a bald patch. And for whatever reason I couldn't get the two to match each other, in whatever awful state - so I look like I've taken a beating .... from a pair of tweezers. I grabbed some too-dark eyebrow/eye liner and took a picture on photobooth to see if it could pass...

Here it doesn't look too bad, but we can chalk that up to poor image quality and resulting lack of any substantial detail. I guess that means I can pretend on the internet. Story of my life!

I should probably have someone teach me these girl things, or invest in a salon visit.

Fuck.

New Video

I threw this video together in response to a friend's Facebook status. He was complaining about movies that flash the little olive branch logos to try and appear legitimate, when they aren't. He was specifically referencing this.

I'm actually a little bit proud of the weird "tribal" music that came out of me recording noises and layering them. Who'da thunk??

Scents Sense

If you've known me long enough you know I have the habit of smelling things. Giving things a little sniff. My last boyfriend wasn't particularly fond of my habitual explorations of my own bodily smells. It's without much surprise that I've found my scent-memory link is very strong. Admittedly I try and catch a whiff of someone's slipstream as they pass by if they look particularly handsome.

I guess I'm a creepy s.o.b.

So you can imagine the ferocity at which I leapt upon the idea of fragrances, presented to me by a college friend. Sure, at the then-age of 23, I'd been in contact with perfumes and artificial scents for quite some time; but they were always so ... acrid. What Jenny had to show me were frrrangrannceeesssss. The type you could only find in two stores across the country, imported from France and Italy. These scents had bases and layers and hints. They were all relatively unisex, so Jenny and I, along with the two guys who hung around the apartment would get stoned and dollop perfume on our wrists and soak in the experience of smell.

Transplants From Facebook..

...or, moving this stuff to where it should have been in the first place:




1] Old video is old. But between Lady Gaga and Glee, I'm stoked that slightly operatic musical numbers with high production values are in.




2] I have been watching this for HOURS. This is what happens to my days when I work nights. A must-see for lovers of D&D and Penny Arcade.




3] WHY AM I NOT IN EUGENE?!





4] A recent Penny Arcade comic drove me to look this up. It's the 1993 logo for Cyan that prefaced the first Myst game.




5] Has anyone told 2Pac's ghost that we have a black president?




6] Oh, Portland...

The sign is advertising a 24 hour suicide hotline.

7] Tyra Banks, you just gained 5000 points in my book.

(The article in which Tyra receives an unmerited bashing.)

That's points not pounds. Blogs about Tyra's weight have more than exhausted themselves.

And now for some self-taught tutorials on how to make my posts look decent .... with images instead of text links and whatnot. Yknow, make it look like I don't henpeck my way through a session with the intertubes.

Pull Yourself Up By Your Jockstraps

Blog soon to come!
A teaser:
Who believes in this oftentimes Libertarian ideal, and why they're the only people who can believe it.

Of Ghosts and Internships

Saw a ghost again today. The first was several weeks ago when my ex boyfriend chose to appear out of thin air. The thinnest air, in fact. Today it was an old friend of mine, for lack of a better title. She was one of the key faces in the small group of friends I hung around in high school. A few years after graduation we made the collective decision to be friends more directly, as opposed to the peripheral friendship from before. This was fun, but short lived. We watched indie films about supporting local farms, which drove us to down bags of local snap peas. In an emotionally wrecked haze I did her the injustice of getting into a mutual rebound relationship with her recent ex: the man she'd shared her life with for several years. This parted us, and she renounced speaking with me. Even years down the road she ignored my apologetic messages and summons to forgive, forget, and catch up. She had deemed me unfit for friendship with her. It took me several years to subdue my pride-filled defensiveness and finally understand. Four years went by in silence between the two of us. Until today. Acne-covered and toting a bucket of bleach water, there I stood as she walked in. Perhaps she noticed me and feigned surprise, perhaps she didn't. But there she was, looking gorgeous, and there I was, the college graduate working at Subway. She'd caught me, caught me at what may have been my worst. I knew beyond a doubt that the next five minutes would be painful; politely stumbling through forced small talk and light catching up before an awkward send-off. But it wasn't. We talked a bit about ourselves, spoke civilly, both of us calm and friendly. As she left I told her I'd like to catch up with her more and that I'm glad she came in. She said she was glad as well. I hope she meant it.

On a completely unrelated note: I saw online that collegehumor.com is hiring for an editorial internship. I have a snowball's chance in hell with this job, but I'm saying what the hell and applying anyway. This is my first attempt at embracing a new idea: that perhaps acting despite reservations is better than not acting due to them. We'll see how this goes...

"but hip-hop is harder"

Watching old Spice Girls videos and reading a bit about them on Wikipedia makes me feel that ... maybe ... they're gods. And the funny thing is, they practically were for a lot of girls in the nineties. I think it hit kids my sister's age the hardest (1989ers).

Post-University Essays

Due to the particulars of my college education, I've been dissecting things with almost annoying frequency. This can come from the most unlikely of subjects. Farscape, for example, had me thinking on feminism nearly every episode; and I've come to the conclusion that perhaps it displays the ideals of not just one feminist thinker, but several -- the show practically acts as a stage on which the ideals of these feminist thinkers are personified and made to interact with one another. It's enough to make me think that I should write a short essay on it, though an essay on Farscape would be enough to turn anyone away. Not to mention, the idea seems just the tip of the iceberg; the researched involved would be extensive. So we'll see...

Whimsy.

It's probably tacky (and bad luck) to start a new blog with a break-up post - but here goes anyway! :D

If and when my ex finds a new girl, I hope she's not one of two types of women. While I'm going to feel shitty about it regardless, these two would up the shittiness.

First is the perfect woman. There is absolutely no way  to keep from feeling like she's an upgrade (pardon my gauche use of the word).

Secondly is unexpectedly lame girl. Her presence will make me question my ex's tastes and whether I fit into a sucky category of women.

Anybody who's anybody can tell you that an ex's conduct shouldn't be dwelled upon, nor should someone create an opinion of oneself based on the opinions and decisions of others -- but fuck, who doesn't from time to time?

So anyhow. Hopefully he'll find someone who's fun and unique, and will have a better attitude than I did ... but someone who's a bit of a fuckup as well.

El oh el.