Thinking up a title is requiring more energy than I'm willing to expend...

Ever since it was revealed that Callie's real name is Calliope, I have a hard time watching Grey's Anatomy without singing Bruce Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light" ("with this very unpleasin', sneezin' and wheezin, the calliope crashed to the ground"). I know what you're thinking, but you'd be wrong; though Manfred Mann's version is the more oft-played one, it was originally written and recorded by The Boss.




And this, friends, is exactly why I've been AWOL from blogging lately. I HAVE NOTHING AT ALL INTERESTING TO SAY.

I'm going to go ahead and blame this on my having to quit caffeine. I'm blaming everything on this. When my doctor told me I should (oh, and ps-it's not for anything scary, like heart problems or blood pressure or migraines, just something that I don't feel like I need to broadcast all over the world wide web), I literally felt a panic attack coming on, like my cheeks flushed and I could feel my heart beating in my ears. I have to be AT WORK and LUCID at 7am IN THE MORNING, in OAKTON WHICH IS VERY VERY VERY VERY FAR AWAY. OH AND HAVE WE TALKED ABOUT MY SLEEPING ISSUES, WHICH CAUSE ME TO GO TO BED AT LIKE 3? BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, THAT'S A FACT. Prior to last Friday (and I basically quit cold turkey, which we'll talk about more in a minute), my routine was this: drink one can of Starbucks iced light coffee at 6:30 am in the car, drink one can of Diet Dr. Pepper at work at like 8-ish, Starbucks run sometime between 9 am and 2pm, more Dr. Pepper in the afternoon. Now that I see it written out, it seems a bit excessive. But, guys, I'm the chick who had ONE class before 11:15am all through college and it was at 9:05 in the basement of the library and I couldn't open my eyes at all, through the entire class.

Now, I quit coffee once before, but I did it gently. I started bringing a thermos of black coffee to school every morning when I was 15(this is one of the positive aspects of reaching your adult height before you're 12-not having to worry about stunting your growth. The negatives include creepy old men hitting on you and not being able to fit your legs under the desks in your 6th grade classroom). I basically stopped drinking it every day my sophomore year in college. I picked it up again when I started this job in October. I completely forgot about the withdrawal symptoms.

And because this time I'm cutting out ALL caffeine, including chocolate and diet soda, I'm feeling it harder. Last week I was SO MEAN to everyone and my head hurt and I cried at least 6 times (to be fair, one of the times was because of the headache, so there you go). It's a little easier this week, but still. Last night I actually dreamt I was drinking a regular Coke in all it's caffeinated splendor. And I had to wake up and drink water on my way to work because life. Is. Cruel.

Oh, also, drive-thru lady at the Taco Bell in Fair Lakes: I'm still not totally sure why my asking if your Diet Pepsi was caffeine free resulted in your uncontrollable laughter, but you're so very lucky that my arms weren't long enough to reach into your little window and squirt hot sauce in your eye.

No matter how tough life gets...

...at least your hair looks better than Phil Spector's.

Now, I'm not a fan of Psycho McCrazyFro. He completely mangled Let it Be (so badly that after hearing Let It Be...Naked, which was the version released a few years ago and is the album the way that Paul intended it to be, I deleted the original from my computer, and my life. So...I really showed him. I think he's really feeling it in the old wallet), and then he went all O.J. on us and killed a woman. When I saw the picture on the left from the pre-trial hearings a few years back, my eyes could not communicate to my brain what I was seeing. And while I'm no stranger to the Power of the Frizz, I find this unacceptable. Because he actually woke up in the morning AND MADE HIS HAIR DO THAT. Um, also, please imagine what it looks like when it's down. Christ.
THEN he showed up the other day (pictured at right) with his hair cut like Peter Pan. While it's an improvement, he still looks like walking crazy.



Also, Neve Campbell? Valiant effort at trying to force us to pay attention to you.
I wonder what happened to her hairstylist. Perhaps he ran. He ran so far away. He couldn't get away.

SUCK ON THAT, CAESAR

Well, it is 11:47 so I'm going to go ahead and declare my victory (unlike others...Duke*...). I have once again survived the Ides of March. So logic would dictate that Jenn=more evolutionarily (did I make that one up?) fit than Julius Caesar.




*That was mean. But IU just beat Gonzaga, I'm feeling cocky, I'm just gonna go with it.

"You are gifted in many ways"...

...said my fortune cookie last night. For about 3 minutes I seriously entertained the idea of calling up the restaurant from which I purchased my General Tso's tofu and trying to find out where they bought aforementioned cookies so I could drive to the factory, find the guy who writes the messages, and just hug him for an uncomfortably long length of time. I needed to hear this. Even if it's coming from a pastry, I'll take validation wherever I can get it. It's been a rough couple of weeks.

Speaking of needy, attention-hungry twenty-somethings who really don't want to do any actual work for a living, let's talk Idol, shall we? Some highlights from Tuesday's show:

-Second favorite quote of the night, courtesy of Generic Interchangeable White Girl Contestant#4: "I just go out there and try to sing every note." Lofty goal, sweetheart. When I'm walking, I try to walk every step. You need to leave now.
-First favorite quote of the night, courtesy of Ms. Abdul: "The audience doesn't know anything." Uh, here's what I do know:

• In order to believe that crap about you never having been drunk in your life, I'd need to suspend my disbelief an uncomfortable amount, and abandon all laws of science and logic


• I know that you actually named an album Vibeology, though I'd be lying if i said I knew what it meant


• I know that you sang a duet with a cartoon cat.

-I NEED to know what the hell Sanjaya did to warrant the intense hatred and disdain that the show's hairstylist must harbor towards him because, GOOD LORD. It has to be something bad, because I can't imagine what would make them risk their reputation/abandon all hairstyling ethics like that unless he really deserved it. I have a theory that last night was meant to be Justin Guarini-esque. Instead, homeboy ended up looking like Shirley Temple. It was a hot mess.

There's nothing more to say about this.

The Worst Blogger Ever

Don't be mad at me. Here, enjoy some Glam Rock Mick as a peace offering.

ONCE AGAIN, I apologize for the lack of blogging as of late. My Internet is spotty and my personal life exploded and daylight savings time came and I got confused because last year was my first time doing it in like 5 years because Indiana never had it until last April and I've been having a bunch of bad hair days and Tide is discontinuing my laundry detergent and it's all just been a mess. Hopefully things will get back to normal this week and I can resume wasting my time (and yours) with my long-winded rantings.

Two quick things to mention for now:

1.) Maybe the manufacturer of my preventative inhaler could come up with a better system of letting me know when it's running out instead of me waking up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath and freaking out because I've haven't had an attack in over a year. That would be aces. I used to be able to tell because it would feel significantly lighter, but ever since those bastards switched to an ozone-friendly formula, I can't tell. Effing nature, man.

2.) I know that I say this a lot, but Fruit Punch flavored Crystal Light on-the-go packets will LITERALLY CHANGE YOUR LIFE. They are AMAZING. All of this time I have wasted on Raspberry Ice. These ones taste just like the fruit punch that you used to drink as a kid before you turned like eight and, if you're a female, magazines and TV told you that you had to worry about getting fat, and you were doomed to a life of drinking only boring water and Diet Coke, which, less face it, no one on this planet actually enjoys the taste of (Diet Pepsi is a little better). They also kind of stain your teeth and lips, so you might want to enjoy them in the comfort of your own home, lest you scare the people on the street.

Must be the season of the witch...

I've known about the Coulter debacle for days now, but I chose to ignore it because, much like lice need a live host, the she-beast needs publicity and attention to continue to insult our sensibilities with her fried-blond locks and cute 90's call-girl fashion choices. But now that she's going down in a fiery blaze of peroxide and hate-fueled glory, we can discuss it.

First of all, you have got to listen to the actual sound-bite to fully appreciate it. She just sounds so damn proud of herself for making a pop-culture reference (the Isaiah Washington/Grey's Anatomy thing), it's adorable. Never mind the fact that it's like months old and no one cares anymore. It's so cute to hear her try to talk about things that she thinks real humans are talking about. Oh, Ann. You're like a family pet who thinks it's a person. You're a dog. In more ways than one.

I guess my favorite part about this is that because Edwards is married and no one has really questioned his sexuality, she kind of inadvertently used "that word" in the "synonym for stupid" way. How very 5th grade of her. I think she meant it in the "not manly enough" way. You know, like how he doesn't drive drunk or shoot his old man friends in the face.

Speaking of my fave V.P. in all the land, it was revealed yesterday that they found a blood clot in Cheney's leg. They treated him at G.W. I'm shocked! Why not Walter Reed, Dick???

Ceftin is my Valentine

I know what you're thinking- and yes, I know that I'm two weeks late and that it's an antibiotic, but still. I need to sing it's praises. I feel 8902020 batrillion times better than I did this time last week.

DISCLAIMER: If you think that I'm a cool chick because I'm never label whore-ish and don't obsess about fashion or dumb girly things, stop reading and skip to the next paragraph. Thanks. Unfortunately, I still can't really taste or smell anything. And I am SO SAD because I got excited when I read about the new Coach fragrance in last month's Allure, and I got the cutest little sample bottle of it on this little key chain mailed to me over the weekend but I can't smell anything! And it's full of smells that I love, like sandalwood and green mandarin something that I've never really smelled but I know I'd love.

Oh, also! Mary-Kate Olsen! You are ridiculous! For some reason, the New York Times decided to give America's Favorite Living Troll Doll/Hobo a public forum in which to write an "editorial" (I use the word loosely here...read it and you'll understand) about....her favorite purse. It reads like a 2nd grade exercise on how to write a paragraph("I like frogs. Frogs are cool. And green. I really, really, really, really, really like them"). I mean, I know that the on-set Full House tutor probably wasn't exactly a world-class educator, but good lord. It's nice to know definitively how vapid she is, instead of just imagining it.

Also....

Tell me she doesn't look like exactly like Miss Havisham. If she's a style icon, than so is the pile of laundry sitting in the corner of my room right now.