Quick Update on Things

The (potential) job: still haven't heard anything.

The boy: still talking regularly, and are planning to get together this weekend .

The boy cat: home from the vet and feeling much abused and prone to vapors (actually, that's fairly typical...the vapors, not the abuse).

The orchid: flower is in full bloom.

The (current) job: still boring, mind-numbing, pointless, and so on.  Though, that must be obvious as I am posting a stupid little update instead of doing any work.

Poor Wittle Puddy Cat

That handsome fellow up there is Tiberius.  Ti is my parents' cat and he shares a characteristic with Hank Hill.  So poor Ti is at the emergency vet with a tube in a sensitive place.  I'm sorry to say that he is probably going to have a procedure to correct the issue.  No one wants to have their cat (or any pet, I suppose) die for an inability to pee.

I May Not Be A Killer

You see that? That, my friends, is proof that I don't kill every plant thing I own. That there is the first of Phaedra's new blooms and I couldn't be happier. You can see a smaller bud to the left, and there are a couple more spots that look promising. I am cautiously optimistic about her future.

And In Other News...

I found out today that I am going to be moving into the other building at work. At first, it sounded it was going to be just me and Jodi (my crazy as a loon project coordinator who doesn't really do ANYTHING on my project except occasionally go to FLA for conferences) and two other girls who are (tangentially) related to my project. It's a good thing I'm in a good mood today, or there could have been some kicking.

Then I found out that the people around me, who work on a similar kind of project, will be moving also. This is a good thing. I think I would have been hurling myself in front of the Ivyland-New Hope train if I were trapped with Jodi. As it is, she's not going to be sequestered in an office, so I'm going to have to hear her fucking loud mouth and insanely loud typing. Bah.

Really, I'm hoping that it will be a non-issue for me, but I won't know that until after my interview on Monday.

The Postmortem

I am having a little bit of difficulty figuring out how to start with my date report because nothing insanely exciting happened. Which is a good thing, because the last date I was on (remember, back in April of 2009?) went well and then I got shafted. I decided that I'm going to be way more laid back about things this time.

We met for dinner at Isaac's. It was a good halfway point and the food is good and there is a HUGE selections of beers. The boy is an admitted beer snob. Not surprisingly, the place was busy, but we both got lucky with parking spaces. Our table felt a little like they just threw one up in an available corner, but it wasn't too bad.

So far we have not had any issues with the conversation lagging. He's a good listener and always has a follow-up question ready. This is good and not good because if you get me started I can be hard to shut up. And the more I talk, the more chance there is to say something stupid. But, honestly, I haven't been worried about that so much this time around. I know I said something that were corny, and made a couple of jokes that fell flat, but that happens to me regardless of who I am talking to.

We wandered around town for a bit after dinner and talked some more. He made a point of telling me he was weird, but it hasn't been anything I can't handle so far. In fact, I would have to say that I quite like his brand of weird. Also, I'm thinking that he's playing up the weirdness the way I would normally play up the awkwardness - it's a built in excuse if you say/do something that comes off wrong. "Oh, that's just my weirdness."

He's very bright, which is excellent. I had to be more on my game than I usually am because he's not one to let a point slide. It's a challenge, but a good one. In fact, he's very much like me with the "but did you look at it this way?" thing. We both see things sideways. Humor-wise, he is VERY dry. Actually got me a couple of times. Oddly enough, I didn't mind.

As of posting time, there is not second date planned, but we did say we'd like to do this again. And I don't think it's like the "we could do it again" from the date I had two years ago. I think this one will actually happen. Mostly because I'm going to call him tonight to set it up. I won't lie; it would be nice if he called me, but I have a feeling that I'm going to have to be the aggressor for now. I'm surprisingly OK with this, because I like him enough to want to make the effort.

Disturbingly Chipper

Teeheeheeheeheeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

It's amazing how two small things can make me super happy.

Thing One: I have a date tomorrow night. I'm sure I'll do a postmortem on Friday.

Thing Two: I have a job interview on Monday! Yay!

That is all.

Another Crap Movie Review

Last night was Wawa and crappy movie night. Wawa was up to its usual standards. The movie, well, that was a new level of crapiness.

We watched Mortal Passions. Side note: there really should be a separate category under "Free Movies" in the On Demand section. Something called "Crappy Movies that are Crap" might work. Back to the movie. The premise of the movie is this: money-grubbing, cheating whore of a wife wants to off husband (played by Zach Galligan of Gremlins fame) for insurance money. Wife has plan to fake depressed husband's suicide with cokehead lover but is interrupted by the arrival of husband's older brother. To add a little drama to the drama, the brother and the wife don't get along. Oh noes!

To be fair, the movie is a product of the era, which was late 80s, early 90s. I'm talking about scrunchies and low ponytails with fluffy bangs, denim shorts cuffed at the knee, fucking Z Cavariccis! Seriously, even the older brother used a scrunchie to hold back his "I'm a rebel" long hair.

No one is safe from the wife's vagina. After the brother follows her to the lover's condo and then shoots the lover; the wife rubs herself on the brother until all his brains run into his dick and they fuck on the bed while the cokehead lover chills in the corner. Then comes the obligatory wrap the corpse in garbage bags and duct tape and toss in the trunk of the car. Then, then! they proceed to bury the dude in the backyard of Gremlin's guy house! Sure, the guy was doing some landscaping to work through his issue so there was a hole waiting, but really? Really? Really.

Of course things spiral out of control. The husband, who had only suspected cheating up til this point, has his suspicions confirmed by the brother. Some random chick who had been dating the cokehead lover shows up and acts all quirky. Which is apparently just what the husband likes because next thing you know, they are getting cozy at a diner and the quirky chick is talking about fucking. They don't, but she has no problem blackmailing the husband. And I totally skipped over a bunch of stuff there. There's a bank box filled with money, the fact that the father (of the husband and the brother. try to keep up.) had committed suicide, the brother's history of over-reacting to people who fuck with his little bro, the shrink that Little Miss McWhorey is manipulating, and Zach Galligan's fucked up right ear. I'm not kidding, people. He has an extra fold in there that was completely distracting. Major alien ear syndrome.

Predictably enough, the husband and the quirky chick find cokehead lover in the backyard. The husband removes a finger and presents it to the shrink as proof that his wife was trying to kill him. For whatever reason, the shrink doesn't follow through with calling the cops, and instead calls the wife and says he needs to speak with her. Wife shows up and when the shrink doesn't succumb to her ravenous vagina magic, she shoots him. It was actually pretty fucking funny because the recoil knocked her back into the window and she had a hilarious look of shock on her face. Cue the confrontation back the house, brother against brother. Older brother leaves, but doesn't take the cash. The husband mans up and kicks out the wife who gets in the brother's car. Quirky chick shows up and says she didn't want the husband's money and he says "Now's not a good time." Awesome.

And if you're thinking that more people need to die, fear not. The brother, feeling all guilty for fucking the wife and considering stealing the bank box $$$, drives his convertible off the road and manages to flip it over on completely flat ground. Cue Wilhelm Scream, cut back to husband sitting in giant house, hugging a bagful of cash, slightly witty remark is made, end.

I know; words fail you, right? Well, if you have Comcast (sorry, Xfinity) check it out. My slapdash synopsis really doesn't do it justice. Then again, what could?

New Who, Same Crush

This is my third attempt at this Doctor Who-related post and I'm really hoping that it works out OK.

Anyone who is the right kind of nerd knows that Matt Smith began his tenure as the 11th Doctor a few weeks ago. Well, nerds who are torrenters do. Law-abiding nerds are still waiting for the April 17th BBC America premiere. Being the more impatient sort, I and some friends were good to go the night of the BBC One premiere.

There were some serious concerns about the new Doctor: he is very young (well, 28 now but that's still younger than me), he is mostly forehead and chin, and well, he's not David Tennant. But this (obvs) isn't the first time a Doctor has been replaced, and I'm sure it won't be the last, so I swallowed my trepidation and tried not to make any(more) snap judgements.

The first episode, The Eleventh Hour, was a bit frenetic, so I couldn't really decide how I felt about Smith's Doctor. There was much vaulting of hedges, a reasonably entertaining bit with the Doctor trying (and rejecting various foodstuffs), and the introduction of the new companion, Amy Pond (Karen Gillan). Side note: I was VERY concerned that I was going to hate the new companion. Not because I have an undying loyalty to any of the past companions, but because in every teaser I saw she had this wide-eyed look of surprise that drove me mad. I did not want her to be the baffled, constantly needing-to-be-rescued companion. Also, with any luck, there will be no romantic overtones at all. The Rose Tyler thing was fine, but Martha Jones was painfully awful (no offense to Freema Agyeman). I think I liked Donna so much because there was definitely a matey vibe to the whole thing that was very refreshing after three seasons of shmoopishness. But this isn't about the companions.

After watching the second episode, The Beast Below, I was in love...again. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very fond of Tennant and his zany hairdo, and Eccleston's jug handle ears, but Smith has firmly established himself as a crush-worthy Doctor. Yes, he looks like he was half-sculpted from Silly Putty, but he's the bloody Doctor. The Doctor is the crush, not the actor. I think Steve Buscemi (again, no offense) could pop out of the TARDIS and I would still be ready to jaunt across space and time. It's the idea of being with this "very old and very kind" Time Lord that makes me all happy in my pants, not necessarily wanting to shag Tennant or Smith. Not that I wouldn't shag Tennant. I think it's the hair. And while I'm not fond of Smith's little bow tie, I'd happily rip it off and proceed to blow his Gallifreyan(?) mind.

I apologize for all the parenthetical asides but it felt right.

Today's Random, Probably False, Factoid

According to a rambling voicemal I had to transcribe, 6% of people are vegetarians. According to this, it's more like 3%. This is just one example of the bits of "knowledge" I pick up in the course of my day.

Why I (temporarily) Have No Appetite

If I were the type to believe in signs and portents, I would have gone right back to bed after getting a mouthful of spoiled milk with my Cheerios. Blech. And don't give me any crap about not sniffing the milk. It has been a long time since I have had a carton of milk long enough to worry about spoilage. Plus, it really seems like organic milk has a longer shelf-life after opening. Regardless, I'm not the superstitious type, so I soldiered on.

I went to Barnes & Noble on Friday and for the first time in I don't know how long, I left empty-handed. I went specifically for Dhalgren, but B&N failed me. In fact, it failed to have any Delaney at all. I was bereft. Then, to cap it all off, there wasn't one other book that interested me enough to be an acceptable sub. That's right, people. Nothing in the store appealed to me. How appalling. But honestly, I'm not that surprised. I don't know about you, but if I'm looking for a specific book, I'm usually hard-pressed to choose something else if my original choice is unavailable. I wanted weird scifi/fantasy, dammit! Not that there isn't tons of that out there, I simply wasn't up to the task of finding it. The happy/duh ending to the story? I found the book at a different B&N on Saturday/my dad (of course) had a copy sitting on the shelf. I even had the thought on Friday: Gee, I'll bet my dad has this book. I should really check with him first before shelling out. I forgot that amazingly quickly. I'm considering returning the copy I bought for some credit, and taking my dad's copy. He said that he never managed to get through the book, so it wouldn't matter to him how long I keep it (likely forever). So far, I'm not having that much trouble with the book, but I can be partial to weird-ass scifi (like Barker) so I think it will be easier for me than for my dad. I'm going to attempt a review when I finish, but that may be a while. And if what I've read so far is anything to go by, the review may also be incomprehensible.

Weather related comment: I like that it is warmer, but as I'm currently short in the summer shoe area, it's not as much fun as it would be if I had fucking sandals. I'd be perfectly happy (OK, maybe not perfectly) if the weather stayed cooler until I can do some shopping.