Paper training

And the birthday celebrations have begun. Yesterday, my uncle gave me either an extremely-late Christmas gift or a tad-bit-early birthday present. This might go down as one of the best presents of all time, too. A copy of the Memphis newspaper from the day after Elvis died.*

The whole paper is devoted to Elvis. And it's mine. All mine.

My uncle has saved a few copies for almost thirty years, bequeathing his penultimate copy to his favorite niece. Me.

In the paraphrased words of J.D., I love it so much it hurts.

Wow, I have no idea how the rest of you are going to be able to live up to that present. The bar has been set pretty high. But you still have to try, yes?

I have twenty bucks that says even if people had gotten me a present already, they just returned it based on those last few sentences. Damn. But I, unselfishly, still hope you all enjoy your three-day weekend, even as it winds down.

*Allegedly.

The REAL countdown

Ah, a three-day weekend is at hand. I just have to make it through today's class (and the topic is Indian Wars, so that should be captivating for the students), and I'm well on my way to doing nothing for three days.

What a great way to celebrate the final one week countdown until my birthday.

Quick story: so the other day I was at the mall and I passed two teenage boys who were staring at a mannequin. Here's their conversation:

Boy 1: Dude, check out the rack on that! (By the way, this was one of the mannequins that has no head)

Boy 2: Nice. I'd totally do her.

Ew. Reason number 583 I'm glad I'm not a boy. Or a window licker. Or that desperate. To each his own, though. Who am I to judge, since I want to someday stalk Stephen King.

Alright, happy Memorial Day to everyone. Have fun barbecuing, sitting out in the sun, and, uh, memorializing, I guess.

With a bit of a mind flip . .

I just re-read my last post on presents, and I noticed that I kept saying "need." As in, "I need blah, blah, blah." As in, "These things are not desires, longings, or wants. No, they are things I need. Necessities, even. So you must buy them."

And I felt thoroughly selfish and a bit ashamed. But then those feelings went away. The shame only lasts a minute, which is why I love being me. That and I have a comfortable bed.

Which reminds me (for no good reason): is late twenties too young to be having Alzheimer's symptoms manifesting? I've always lacked a good short-term memory, but I fear it's getting worse. People tell me something, and five minutes later I have no recollection of the entire conversation. Also, today I got out a skirt to iron and then I went to get a drink of water. After that, I stood there for almost five mintures trying to remember what I had been doing before. When I finally did remember, I couldn't find the skirt. I looked for 20 mintures before discovering it hanging back up in my closet. I had that bitch on my ironing board, was in the middle of ironing it, and I have no freakin' clue how it got back into my closet.

I also apparently offered some concert tickets to two different people, forgetting that they are already promised. The best part is that I did this right in front of the other people. I have also taken to renaming people/objects/animals, since I can never remember what they are really called. But ask me what day my birthday was on in 1993, and I'm all over that.

Ok, I was just thinking back on my birthday from that year and I competely forgot what I was doing. I stared at my computer for a good ten seconds before I remembered that I was in the middle of something.

Should I be afraid of this memory loss/time slippage that I keep experiencing? I'm thinking that I'll employ my usual means of dealing with potential medical issues: ignore them until they go away. The beauty of this plan for this particular issue is that I will soon forget that I even have it. Problem solved.

Greedy, greedy, greedy

So I actually debated on typing up a present list, thinking it might be a bit too vain even for me. But then I remembered that I have been shamelessly advertising for my birthday for the last three months, and that I am vain, so screw it. Here it is.

DVDs: I need all the seasons of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Seinfeld, The Sopranos, and Gilmore Girls. I also need seasons two through four of the Brady Bunch, season six (both parts) of Sex and the City, seasons two and three of Scrubs, and season two of Arrested Development.

Miscellaneous: I need the moisturizing gloves and socks from Bath and Body Works, but pretty much anything from there will make me happy. Except body spray. I don't need to smell of plum or anything else all fruity. Clearly, anything Elvis will win my approval. Let's see, what else? Oh, I need another frame. And a water filter. And a private chef. And a big screen TV. And an all-expense paid vacation, to pretty much anywhere. And a new apartment. And my dissertation to my written for me. And perfect vision. And my dryer to be fixed.

But, you know, whatever. I'm not picky. Or selfish. I provide this list only to help everyone, and also to avoid last year's birthday present fiasco with my stepmother. She bought me a purse. And I'm not so much a purse person, especially when it's big, has sequins, and is Marilyn Monroe themed. So don't buy this purse for me:



I already have it. Jealous? And don't buy me the Unseen Elvis Archives. Four copies is enough. A-hem.

A nice cocktail of Pepto . . .

I have a tummy-ache. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to buy $12.85 worth of candy, and then sit around and eat it last night?

Oh, right.

Me.

Damn. In my defense, the original plan was to buy candy, popcorn, and beer and rent a movie with some friends. Then we decided to go to a movie, but I still thought we should buy candy to smuggle in (is it wrong if I still get a thrill from sticking it to the man, or at least the theatre owner?). Then I couldn't wait for the movie, so I ripped into the gummy bears. Then the Lemonheads. Then the Raisinettes. Then the Junior Caramels (Jr. Mints with caramel instead of mints. You can pass on these.). Then the Twizzlers (which apparently I have to play with before I eat, as Sarah pointed out).

And then we didn't even make it to the movie.

Friday night in Pullman. Hang on tight, kids, it's a wild ride. To add to the excitement, tomorrow I plan on going over to the Rhetts' to hem some skirts. I tell ya, I go craaaazy on the weekends! I blame people who leave cabins on Saturday mornings instead of Sunday afternoons. Sigh, that's fine. I didn't want to go to the lake anyways.

And since I haven't been posting too regularly, here's my recap of all that is Ace:

My nephews (or maybe just one of them; I don't listen that well) are crawling.

My dog may have arthritis. Goes well with her graying snout and her graying "lady" area.

My birthday is in less than two weeks. I'll be posting the gift list soon. Because not only am I a birthday whore, I'm also a shameless present whore.

I'm a third of the way through teaching my first summer school class ever. School and 97 degree weather don't mesh, in the world of Ace, by the way.

Go read Motherless Brooklyn. Good times.

My sunburn is peeling, providing my with a daily reminder of why God invented SPF 30.

I ate the best pizza the other night. Next time you're in Coeur d'Alene, eat at The Beacon and get the Thai chicken pizza. Is it sad that I'm saving my leftovers to enjoy while watching The Sopranos tomorrow? I like to plan ahead.

That's it for a recap. I don't know why any of you are even reading this anyways, since you should be out shopping for an Elvis-themed birthday gift.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to decide if it's worth it to drive to Spokane for a midnight showing of Labyrinth. "I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say!" David Bowie in tights. Me-ow. Ew, I just threw up a bit. Maybe I'll stay in for a Sex and the City marathon, and finish off some candy. Goblin King or bad puns and discussions about funky-tasting spunk? The options are endless in the Palouse!

Guess who bought Elvis trading cards?

Wow, I can't believe how quickly May is flying by. I haven't been posting too regularly lately since I'm too lazy to cart my laptop home from work everyday and I feel that perhaps I shouldn't be posting my classy thoughts in an office where students can come walking in. They are already a bit creeped out by my Wall o' Elvis, and I think that's the only glimpse into the wonder that is me that my students need.

Bonus points for anyone who got that last reference.

Speaking of Elvis, I had to drive down to Lewiston this morning to pick up my students' finals and Laura came with me. Because Pullman is just that boring that a quick trip to Lewiston is occasionally necessary. Anyways, there is a little antique store down there that has, uh, a small portion donated to the King. That I might I might have bought out. I'm currently wearing my ghetto-gold Elvis charm bracelet. And I wore it to class. My students think I'm super-cool.

I only mention this store since my birthday is in a mere 16 days and people have been questioning what they should get me. Go to that store and you'll find gifts for Ace. I was eyeing that Elvis doll. Just sayin.

Ok, I have tests to grade and you all have presents to buy. Hop to.

Janey's got a post

Thanks to Brian's site, I wasted "work" time this morning to take a quiz to see what 80's movie character I am. Results are below, and I think I only know one person who will (a) have seen this movie and (b) think that my assigned movie character is just as funny as I think that it is. I dedicate this post to the Castaspella to my Double-Trouble.



Who's Your 80s Movie Icon Alter-Ego? Find out @ She's Crafty

Who says romance is dead?

So, congratulations are in order for Tori Spelling and her newest husband. Tori got married over the weekend. That's exciting for her.

Let's just do a little Tori-timeline, shall we?

2002: Met Charlie Shanian.

2003: Announced "undying love" for good old Chuck and the two got engaged.

2004 (July): Married Charlie, proclaiming him "the one" at their multi-kabillion dollar wedding.

2005 (July): Tori begins filming the made-for-TV movie Mind Over Murder and meets Dean McDermott (who was married, and had been for 12 years).

2005 (August): Tori and Charlie move to separate residences

2005 (fall): Tori and Charlie announce that (shocker!) they are getting a divorce because she's been banging Dean. Score for her.

2005 (December): Tori and Dean get engaged.

2006 (April): Tori's divorce from Charlie is final.

2006 (May): Tori and Dean get married.

Isn't that a romantic little fairy tale. My advice for Dean: RUN! Isn't it nice to think that before her first anniversary she was already out shopping around? And who gets engaged before their divorce is final? Wouldn't that scare you off if you were Dean? Clearly Tori takes marriage seriously. For the daughter of a billionaire, she sure is a nice little piece of white trash.

Doesn't this story scare anyone else? If she wanted to go for pure romance, she and Dean should have gotten married in July. That seems to be when she does all of her big events. Married in July 2004, cheated on her husband in July 2005, legitimize this adultery by getting married in July 2006.

But best of luck to them. Not that they'll need it, because it seems that this marriage has a rock-solid foundation.

Snap, Crackle, Gone

Screw what your calendar said, today was the first day of summer. I know this because last week was finals and summer school started today. I have never attended summer school, because apparently my retardation wasn't severe enough to keep me in over the summer and in college I was too poor/cheap to do it. But now I'm teaching it. It feels weird. Luckily, I live in Pullman and it was 46 degrees today to welcome in summer session.

I celebrated the end of the semester by going to a birthday/graduation party on Saturday. Where I decided that nothing goes better with a nice glass of wine than a Rice Krispies treat. Except maybe by "a" Rice Krispies treat, I really mean 10. Laura and I justified our shoveling of said treats down our mouths by pointing out that they are essentially air with little to no substance. Do you call someone a pig for breathing air? Then can you really judge me for eating what was essentially air? I think not. I should be a lawyer. Queen of the debate, right here.

Do you also like how I implicated Laura? Although I will admit that I was leading the charge, and I probably ate twice as many as she did. I'm such a whore for desserts.

But the party was good. Cynthia opened all of her girly presents and the evening ended with a lot of crass jokes about battery-operated presents. And I did not have a hangover the next day, so it seems like a great party to me.

I was almost glad to be in Pullman for a weekend. For the previous three weekends, I have been traveling around. I didn't post on Portland because there's only so many things I can say about my less-than-exemplary shopping habits. Maryanne and Laura bought cute clothes and shoes, and I bought an Elvis action-figure (yes, I did. Judge away.). Who do we think is the most mature in that shopping group? I have plenty of clothes and shoes, but how often does one see Jailhouse Rock Elvis?

And all my money right now is going towards buying new photographs. See the new link on the sidebar? If not, please to be visiting Stacy's site and buying some of her work. It's amazing. Reference me and I get a discount. And you? You'll get the satisfaction of knowing you saved me some money. Win-win, from where I stand.

Alright, my fat little dog needs to be walked now.

Makes me say, "Oh my Lord!"

Well, Cinco de Mayo turns out to be the dia of St. Fortunato, the patron saint of lucky finds. I love national holidays, even when Maryanne says other nation's national holidays don't count here. All I know is that I didn't have to work today and I found the best thing ever online. Sounds like a holiday to me.

Did the tease work? Are you dying to know what I found?

M.C. Hammer has a blog! Oh yes, it's true. The man who made his mark on history by turning a common, ordinary, everyday item like a typewriter into a signature dance move is a blogger. Go see his site. Enjoy it. Check out his profile. My personal favorite part is his musical tastes. He has the stuff you might expect: Marvin Gaye, Patti LaBelle, Rick James. Let's see. What else? What?!? What's this? M.C. Hammer, who is 2 Legit 2 Quit, listed Hall and Oates under his favorite music! Hall and freakin' Oates!

Love it.

And under favorite books, he listed the Bible. Giving props to God on a blog. Suh-weet. I guess that's why God gave him a mind to rhyme and two hot feet.

Bienvenida, el viernes!

In honor of Cinco de Mayo (otherwise known as four weeks until my birthday), I have decided to write today's blog in Spanish. Unfortunately, my knowledge of the language of our friends from south of the border is limited, so this promises to be short. My high school Spanish at its finest. Here goes.

Hola. Que tal? Estoy bien, y tu? Mi perra esta muy gorda. Le gusta a comer mucho. Ha ha, perra tonta.

Uh, donde esta la zapateria? Necesito mas zapatos. Claro, yo siempre digo "No tengo dinero," y este is por que. Me encanta Elvis. Oh, lo siento, Elvis-O. El fue numero uno. El esta numero uno.

Ok, that's about the limit of my Spanish knowledge. Impressivo, si? That got me through a week and half in Venezuela, though. But seriously, go celebrate Cinco de Mayo and drink some margaritas. Then listen to a rousing discussion on what has to be the most boring debate ever: the Spanish-version of "The Star Spangled Banner." Sigh-o.

Swiggin' beer straight out of the bottle . . .

As promised, here are my non-girly attributes.

A) I don't like babies. I rarely find them cute; typically they just disgust me. They're pretty drooly, they smell funny, and they cry. Loudly.

B) I have the sense of humor of a 13 year-old boy.

C) Seeing others cry does not bring out the saint in me. It does bring out the bitch, though.*

D) I am not afraid of spiders.

E) Take a glance into my fridge. It bears a striking resemblance to your nearest neighborhood bachelor's.

F) I enjoy mowing the lawn.

G) I might also enjoy The Sopranos too much.

H) I'm pretty sure that I snore.

I) One of my favorite movies is Tommy Boy.

J) I pee standing up. Ok, this isn't true, but I often wish that I could. Typically when I'm in a public restroom.

*Crying at weddings is perfectly acceptable (see previous post). However, crying because you did not do so well on a test? Not so much.

Congratulations! It's a girl!

I was talking on the phone to a friend yesterday, when somehow the topic of girly-ness came up. We both decided that I wasn't too girly, and that was that. The more I thought about it, though, the more I decided that I might, indeed, be at least semi-girly.

Here's my evidence:

A) I have color-coded my closet (thank you OCD). Looking at my closet, it is clear that the pink section is far larger than any of the others. That's pretty girly.

B) I own most seasons of both Friends and Sex and the City on DVD. And I want to own Gilmore Girls. Feminine factor: through the roof.

C) Not only do I love, love, love weddings, but I have occasionally been known to shed a tear at them. See, I'm not dead inside.

D) I have decorative pillows on my bed.

E) It takes me much longer than 45 minutes to get ready.

F) I squeal when I'm excited.

G) I give myself a weekly pedicure.

H) I'm afraid of snakes.

I) I own far too many pairs of shoes.

J) I own Air Supply on vinyl. And listen to it often.

I think I'll follow this up tomorrow by listing my non-girly qualities. Right now I need to go take a bubble bath. With candles. And Kelly Clarkson playing in the background.