People send me funny texts

June 30 Jess: What's a good name for an emo fish?

July 1 Mom: Scrubbing toilets! So hey! It could be worse!

July 9 Mom: Morning! Didn't sleep all night cuz I kept thinking you forgot to close the window you cracked open and the bum from the bushes got in!

July 9 Joe: Word. I would kill someone for a nap right now.

July 17 Alexis: Yea it's official. I'm still drunk and stumbling to work. Late of course.

July 18 Drew: You're not mean just warped and twisted.

July 22 Joe: If I get a virus I'm going to shoot you in the tits.

July 24 Drew: You should rush a frat.

July 25 Mom: Super duper handsome guy with muscles and a tan hanging new gutters on our house right now!

July 25 Dad: You are a business woman now, not a college kid. Change your voice mail recording.

July 28 Bridget: Hahahahaha you slay me.

July 30 Mom: Several home invasions in Ann Arbor with thefts one in middle of the night while the people were home and sleeping lock doors and windows and be careful!

Scrabulous Outrage!

Yesterday I was alerted to the fact that Scrabulous is no longer.

GASP!

Aside from Bumper Stickers, Scrabulous was my favorite Facebook application. What will I do when I go back to the COM office in Boston and am looking for something fun to do with Tara while we sit three feet apart from each other?

Reports that Hasbro asked Facebook to remove the application have been circulating for some time. Hasbro owns the rights to Scrabble in North America, Mattel overseas. Although I won't be joining the proposed hunger strikes, I will bitch about it for at least one blog post. I guess this will give me time to step up my game for when I play against Nora, my younger coworker and eternal Scrabulous nemesis.

Apparently Mattel is working on a more legally acceptable version for North America. I'm sure people will protest, if any are still standing after all these hunger strikes. Eventually, those left will give in and resume playing the new version during work, class and other inappropriate times of the day. No one really played during their free time anyways.

If only my legs could bend like this...

This is how I envision move-in 2008. Take notes, ladies.

Catching up with Maria

So basically I've unplugged for the last several days. Sometimes I just need to step away from the computer. I feel better now. You haven't missed anything except:

• I saw and loved Dark Knight. Dark indeed. The absence of Katie Holmes was a little distracting but probably not as distracting as her tragic new hair cut. Heath was amazingly creepy. Michael Caine is a silver fox. Christian Bale will always be fantastic, although I am skeptical about his upcoming role in Terminator.
• I almost had a heart attack when a chicken recipe from a chef self-labeled "Chef-Kyle-In Middle Skool" went terribly and utterly awry. I could feel my arteries closing.
• Bridget came home with Scabies. I'm convinced I have them now too.
• I witnessed Alexis reciting Romeo + Juliet (on VHS) word for word, including the music. I never realized how bizarre that movie is.
• I experienced two new Ann Arbor bars: Monkey Bar and Cafe Habana. Both were enjoyable. The latter reminded me of a bat cave. Bridget had a problem with the lighting.
• Emily turned 21. Hilarity ensued. Especially when she decided to name me Swiss Beats and then rap while trying to issue sobriety tests to those around her.
  

According to you, my loyal readers:

If you saw a man in your bushes before you had to leave for work, 1/3 of you would call the cops, 1/3 of you would walk by and hope for the best and 1/3 of you would go out there, flail around and tell the man what's up.

Although technically the final option wins. My dad would have voted for it if he knew "telling him what's up" mean walloping him for trespassing.

When I have a lot to say, I go MIA...

Yea, yea. I'm a loser.

It's been busy here in Ann Arbor. Last weekend carnies and old people infested the streets for Art Fair. I didn't get to look around as much as I would have liked, but I saw the essentials (a punk in stilts yelling at passers-by, the beer tent, hippy musicians and a lost Asian infant following a stranger's dog through the fair.)

Dad came to pick me up Friday for an action-packed weekend. We walked into Birmingham where we feasted on burgers at the Hunter House, a diner/truck stop place. Surprisingly, there was air conditioning, good music and a crowd of civilized patrons. The burgers were excellent. We proceeded to Dick O'Dows, a local Irish pub. We ordered Guinness and waited for the band. While waiting, I had to protect my dad from a man who stood conspicuously close while ordering a fruity drink. He flexed as hard as his muscles would allow, making sure to brush his upper arm against my poor, unassuming father. The crowd was varied; everyone was there from under-aged/newly legal drinkers (including myself) and the Stepford Wives fully equipped with bags that cost more than the worth of my life and enough silicon to make a family of barbies, to well dressed European men and one woman who looked EXACTLY like Bette Midler. Dad and I got another beer and enjoyed the live music then headed home where I watched Erykah Badu on HD.

Next day I woke up around noon. We attempted a bike ride but it started raining so we went grocery shopping instead. Grocery shopping stresses me out. After that we went into the city for a lovely dinner and then walked to the outdoor Jazz Festival where we were met by another interesting crowd of people (including families dressed in exactly the same clothes and a hooker roaming around looking for work.) The music was enjoyable and the weather was breezy. Two nights of live music in a row. Not a bad deal. Sunday I woke up late again. Dad and I went on a long bike ride around town. I almost lost control of my bike while trying to maneuver across tiny rocks that constantly shifted under the tires, but ALAS! I made it. We drove into a wedding party consisting of Italian mobster barbie dolls. Dad congratulated them across his shoulder as we heaved up a hill. I almost drove into three small children speeding towards me but I got off my bike to avoid colliding with the demon children. That night dad cooked me a delicious four course meal including a fantastic red wine salad. As we headed toward the car to return to Ann Arbor he exclaimed,

"I hope you remembered your antiperspirant. You're driving."

Driving, like grocery shopping, is the bane of my existence. I never really learned. Long story. Moving on. It was a loooong drive back as I gripped the wheel trying to dart past immobile grannies and speeding teenagers, all while the Greek CD I burned for mom played in the background. My contacts went foggy halfway through the trip because I forgot solution and had to store them in eye drops all weekend. Preeeetty sure that's not ok. We got back in one piece.

Driving while singing Greek music and suppressing the urge to dance is not an easy task.

Conversations from the home front.

Dad: Why do you even bother with conversations like that?
Me: ... I don't know. I guess I just want... what's the word? Begins with a "c."
Dad: Connection?
Me: No. Like closed.
Dad: ... closure...




...

Dad (coming out of the bar): I just got hit by a fat belly.

...



At Jazz Fest:
Me: I think that's a hooker.
Dad: Too bad your brother's not here. I hear he's a pimp.

Things I've Learned At My Internship:

1. Sniffing their baby's farts makes moms happy.
2. Old people are having more sex and getting more STDs.
3. Wal Mart's new logo looks the same as a drawing Kurt Vonnegut made of his asshole.
4. Anderson Cooper is younger than Denzel Washington and started prematurely graying at 20.
5. Captain Kirk was the only person to pass the Kobayashi Maru; though there's debate as to his methods, it's commonly believed he used his charm to have a woman reprogram the Kobayashi Maru to allow success.
   

Things I Never Expected To See In Ann Arbor: Edition One

When I sat in my dorm last semester overlooking Kenmore Square and Fenway, I anticipated my future stay in Ann Arbor as nice, quiet and involving many cookouts. Ann Arbor rang similar to a cute older woman who used to be a hippy and now spends her days sleeping outdoors and making wacky crafts inspired by her younger, LSD-induced life. I also imagined trees. Lots of trees.

Ann Arbor feels relatively artsy I suppose. There are a fair amount of trees. My stay has been enjoyable. I was definitely not expecting the crime rate and sketchiness. Since my first week here I've heard stories of theft and robbery. (I'll tell you when I come home, mom and dad. It's ok.) I've been approached by every homeless person in the city. I've heard gunshots (though some claim they are fireworks) literally right outside my window.

But today took the cake.

8 AM: Standing at my desk preparing for work, I heard a strange rustling noise out my window. My spy senses activated and I stealthily pried one blind from another, peering through a sliver of exposed window. My eagle eyes located a man. Two feet from my window. In my bushes. A MAN IN MY BUSHES!

I stared for a while wondering what I should do, considering I had to leave for work and there was a stranger collecting stolen cans directly in my intentioned path to the bus. Will he attack me? Will he stab me with a secret aluminum knife fastened to his leg? Should I wake up my roommates and notify them of this development? I forgot I was still staring at him. I walked away from the window and paced the house. I decided to text Steve, only later realizing that it would be hard for him to come to my rescue from Worcester, MA.

By the time I finished preparing for work and prying open the blinds again, the man in the bushes was gone. This was my chance. I gathered my belongings and scurried out the door, phone in one hand, keys-evenly-distributed-through-fingers-and-ready-to-stab-if-prompted in another. He must have seen the rage in my eyes and hid because I made it to the bus unharmed. Wise move, creepy man. Wise move.

If I find another man in my bushes tomorrow, we're going to have problems.

Essential Driving Music: This is the jam.

My internship requires hours of blog surfing. I'm not kidding. Today I stumbled upon an interesting prompt; a reader asked one blogger, "If you had to choose 10 CDs to take on a cross country road trip what would you choose?"

Well. I love music. And I love road trips! Therefore this is a fantastic question.

I'm no stranger to long car trips. I make at least two a year (Boston to Michigan/wherever my parents live.) I also inherited my dad's passion for music so the two of us always travel with carefully crafted road trip CDs.

I'll answer this prompt in two parts: 10 CDs + 1 sample car playlist. Test some of the songs/videos. Tell me what you think.

10 CDS I WOULD TAKE ROAD TRIPPING:

1. Creedence Clearwater, Chronicle: Creedence is perfect travel music. In fact, Creedence is perfect any time music. Songs like Run Through The Jungle and Green River mirror the adventurous atmosphere inevitably accompanying road trips. Chronicle provides a healthy balance of songs you love to sing and songs you listen to as you silently stare at the sunset contemplating the life of a nomad. My only complaint is the absence of Good Golly Miss Molly. But that song alone wouldn't warrant bringing Chronicle Volume Two. I'll just listen when I get home.
2. Streetlight Manifesto, Everything Goes Numb: Every fast-paced song tells a story for you to scream along to. Each is exciting and addicting. Sing along, lose your breath and journey on.
3. RX Bandits, ... And the Battle Begun: This CD is simply epipc. It took longer than expected to grow on me but I would never travel without it. I could listen to this CD on repeat for weeks without getting sick of it. The anticipation and excitement felt when some of these songs being is essential when on a long road trip.
   
4. Kings of Leon, Aha Shake Heartbreak: Fantastic CD. Fantastic band. Wrote enough earlier.
5. Celebration, Celebration: This was my best at-a-concert discovery. I've seen them open for two bands in Boston and found their CD at a secondhand shop after seeing them. Celebration is on every Worcester playlist I make. I get lost in her songs. My favorite is Tonight. Of course I couldn't find it. So here's New Skin.
   
6. Blood Brothers, Burn Piano Island Burn: Perfect if traveling alone or with Joe (or someone else who would tolerate it.) Would not play this with mom or dad in the car for fear of inducing heart attacks. When alone, I often scream along with the singer's high pitched yells. Ideally I'd combine my favorite songs of theirs to make one perfect CD. (I have already created one such playlist.)
7. Common, Finding Forever: To lighten things up a little. Something to sooth my throat and get me swaying instead of thrashing around.
8. Outkast, Stankonia: Because I'd need something a little darker. Spaghetti Junction is one of my favorites on this one.
9. Pearl Jam, Greatest Hits: A throwback. At this point I will just want to sing to something a little more standard.
10. Ministry of Sound, Clubbers Guide Summer 2006: Go on. Judge me. But after hours of driving this long, you too would require a good dose of clubbing music. Blast this, break the speed limit, put on cruise control and take out the glow sticks.
    

15 SONGS FREQUENTLY PLAYING WHEN I DRIVE*:

*These are only some of my favorite driving songs. Playlist.com was missing essentials by ACDC, Rush, Johnny Winter and more.

As you can see, I have a problem.

According to you, my loyal readers:

Velveeta Shells taste like plastic, yet are orgasmic.
I'm glad they don't throttle you with diarrhea.
Vote again next poll.

Practicing my dance moves.

Thursday night I caught the second showing of Americas Best Dance Crew. The season started off stupid (umm... Sass Times Seven, anyone?) but it's picking up. ASIID is disappointing. I'm still rooting from them because they're from Detroit and, deep down, I know they can kick ass.

My mind wandered as I watched the show. Things that crossed my mind included, but were not limited to:

• Mario Lopez is annoying and should have given up with the A.C. Slater legacy, which would have been far better than this.
• I wish I could dance.
• Shane Sparks is the man. I love when he gets really excited by a group. This show suits him much better than So You Think You Can Dance.
  
• Mario Lopez is corny and should be bitch slapped every time he says something stupid. Which happens to be every time he opens his mouth.
• Lil Mama needs to check her attitude. She has been in a bad mood for the past two episodes. Someone needs to pull her pony tail out of that awful hat-with-a-hole-carved-in-the-top so her blood can circulate properly.
• I wonder if Lil Mama is an alien?
• We need to form an office dance crew and compete next season. (Yes, you too Nick.)

Watching these dance competitions always remind me what a bad dancer I am. Last semester, Noelle and I were bored one day and decided to search for Harlem Shake videos. We found a very interesting teach-yourself instructional by some spazz with a fake grill in his mouth. We practiced for an hour but our dancing endeavor ended tragically. Most people can attest to the fact that I still look like I'm being tasered when I dance.







Give it a go. Don't hurt yourself.

Things I am craving right now:

1. Candy. Preferably those sugary peach things or fruity Sour Patch Kids.
2. Coca Cola.
3. A leg of fried chicken.
4. A pool and an evening swim.
5. A wide-brimmed, black hat.
6. Boston.
   

Tila. I'm coming for you!

Poor Tila. I just don’t understand. She’s gone through two entire season and still hasn’t found her true love. The poor thing. If even the writers of her heart wrenching “reality” show can’t construct a character for her to fall in love with, she’s doomed. Maybe Kristy will have a spin-off now. At least it’s over.

The way Tila growls “a SHOT AT luuuuuurrvv.” She should have stuck to posting naked pictures of herself on the internet. Oh wait. She still does that doesn’t she? Whatever. Obviously she’s not really bisexual. If she were, she and Danny would be living happily ever after somewhere in San Francisco.

Before plaguing cable television with poorly scripted filth and nonsense, Thien Thanh Thi Nguyen (thank you Wikipedia) was a sheltered kid in a gated Buddhist community who eventually fled the south for big city where she worked in a strip club and began her desperate search for attention via a cold pole and the internet.

But before New York, T-cubed was confused about her race, started using drugs and decided to join a gang. She claims to have punched a girl with braces and rubbed her mouth into the ground. What a bad ass. They should have caught her on Intervention before it was too late.

See you for season three Thien Thanh Thi Nguyen!!!