Allow me to reintroduce myself:
I dig philosophy, feminism, art, the color green, literature, pizza, spoons, mumblty peg, pizza, 3-part harmonies, veggies, pizza, & theatre. I really like pizza. I’m a decent, but uncreative cook and recently asked Emmaraptor if it was a good idea to roll tofu in baking soda before frying it. I’m a philosophy graduate student about to make the small fish, big pond move to NYC. I’m an addict, specifically I indulge in twitter (philososaurus! philososaurus!), talking about my rabbit, Yoshi, and talking about Yoshi on twitter.
Despite my initial desire to wipe my entire blog clean, — how much one changes in just 6 months is surprising and sometimes painful to have proof of it on the internet — but, frankly, a lot of it still stand true. I still love my rabbit. I still miss Marselle. I still think that rape is terrible. I still have rainy days that are manageable and rainy days that are not. I still enjoy translating klingon on my down days.
Further, I’m still not sure what I want this blog to be. Until I major theme is found, it’s essentially an accompaniment to my twitter and a way for me to resolve, externally, my trials and tribulations. Much of it will be personal, most of it will be reactionary, some of it will be comical, and all of it will have the f word in it.
IM convo with my sissy pants (to tide you over until I post my comics):
r u talkin to a boy???????
omg u r
i’m translating klingon
ah how normal i should have guessed
Thanks for letting me break and make and break promises about my comics. All other excuses have been pretty bs until this one: my bff’s going away party was moved up until this evening.
Last night I had a dream my friend John had to go to Afghanistan and his ex was going with him. And that there was a half woman half octopus and some pirates underwater. Yes, this is in Afghanistan. I apparently went too because I was apart of this fight and it was like we were on the playground with big fake swords saying things like, I already hit you. Nuh uh, you missed!
Doesn’t top the dream I had the other night. It was a fake Zombie dream. I was in a school and it was Zombie infested and we had to get out so we decided to go through the cafeteria. We broke off chair legs and were about to go in all bad ass. I opened the door to the cafeteria with all the Zombies and apparently my brain was like, whoa this shit is about to get wayyy to scary. At that point we realized it was just a big misunderstanding and these people were just a little sick, not zombies. Then we treated them and everyone got along and no one was eaten. There was also someone called the pink knight. I know, I know.
I have the imagination of an 8 year old on acid.
I have a hunch about the cinnamon roll……….
I’m going to go ahead and assume I didn’t mean “don’t forget to get a bunny from the grocery store.”
“I used to drink an awful lot of coffee, but I was told after the age of 40 you have to be careful with coffee and wine. Apparently, that can be one of the reasons older women get bloated around their stomach… I don’t miss having a glass of wine because I’ve switched to vodka. I don’t really like vodka that much but if I’m at a party I have a small one with a lot of fizzy water and a huge squeeze of lime. Initially it’s like medicine but I’ve got used to it now.” — Liz Hurley. [Daily Mail]
(courtesy of jezebel.com)
I’ll take my coffee and wine with a side of bloated stomach puh-lease.
Seriously though, coffee and wine is probably half is not more than half of the liquids I consume daily (if it counts, it’s mostly coffee).
Personally, it sounds like Liz Hurley still hates her vodka medicine, but godforbid she gets a little bloated in the middle. Just and FYI, Liz Hurley looks like this: