Friday, February 29, 2008

More destrucation!

National Geographic Channel (aka the channel I most wish I had) is airing Aftermath: Population Zero, a special along the lines of Life After People (aka Hoover Dam Fetish Show), March 9th at 8pm.

Hey, uhm, do you get NG Channel? Need a new friend? Pick me, pick me!

I have no idea why I need to watch APZ & LAP and then read World Without Us too; I guess I can't get enough wanton destruction.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Me vs that girl you think you know.

I have now had 3 people tell me that they can't believe that I didn't like Juno that much.
Fine, I'm a pretentious music listening, thrift store shopping, Michael Cera adorer, so maybe this should be right up my alley? I can buy that as reasoning. However this is NOT the proffered reasoning.

The reason that these people think I should love Juno is that I am just like her.
Worse than that, I have been told that maybe they liked the character Juno because she reminded them of me.

I know that being smart and spunky and full of music references should be complimentary... and yet I do not like it at all.

Not one little bit.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Filler Onegaishimasu: Hairy Tub Man Edition

Uhm. I'm boring. Here watch this and I will come up something rambly and incoherent later.

Monday, February 25, 2008

I told you he was hot, but you didn't believe me.

Javier Bardem

In No Country for Old Men, totally not hot:

In real life, totally hot:

*sigh* Some androgynous statues have all the luck.

Pictures shamelessly liberated from BWE, who would never sue me, because that is simply not how they roll.

Making posts out of nothing at all.

I got a couple of great new CDs: Once (Soundtrack) and Mike Doughty's Golden Delicious. I am revelling in fantastic new music. I miss buying music all the time. I've decided to go back to buying more music, even though it is costly. I will pile them on the floor and roll around in amazing noise!


I had a date on Friday, with that tricky young man and the long and short of it is that he is a wily bastard and if I am not carefully I will find myself disoriented in Vegas with a ring on my finger.
You see, I had a plan. A plan to make him not like me. It failed.
I wanted to bring up ex's, marriage, politics, religion, my family, and in spite of the fact that looked at my phone 4 times, he was not discouraged.
At the end of the date, nestled in a crowd of people waiting for tables, he asked if he could take me out again. I notified him that that is a violation of the rules; and then I said sure, because people were looking at me like, 'you are a bitch'.
So I guess now I have to dodge his phone calls for the next week until I'm in the clear. If he doesn't leave a voicemail I won't call him back. If he does I'll wait 4 days and then be too busy to hang out with him.
If this doesn't work, I will registering for a Kitchen Aid stand mixer and new baking dishes from Crate & Barrel- so cross your fingers. Or it'll cost ya.


Saturday Paul & I checked out the AMC Best Picture movie marathon in Kent. Starting at 11 am:

Michael Clayton- which I had thought I would have no interest in, but it was incredible and certainly the best narrative film. My favorite of the bunch. I loved the conditional morality and it reminded me in some ways of Wall Street. American capitalism gone mad. 5 out of 5 monkeys.

There Will Be Blood- was very well made. It was a character or maybe mood piece and the acting was amazing, but at the end I was left with a meh sort of 'well that was a movie wherein nothing happened'. I guess there was no standard story structure and it bugged me. 4 out of 5 monkeys for being diverting and having such great acting.

Atonement- I read (see skimmed) the book, so I cheated. The movie was quite good. The costuming and cinematography were excellent. Paul and I were impressed by the casting. 5 out of 5 monkeys.

Juno- I am a killjoy, and while I laughed, I felt like it was overworked, with Juno's every sentence crammed tight with flippant talk and music likings that were pretentious and a bit out of character. So intentionally aiming for that youthful indie audience. Bleh. I still liked it- but I could never love it. 4 out of 5 monkeys.

No Country for Old Men- I also read this (although I didn't spend a lot of brain on it). It was a better movie than a book. It was done very well, but it also did not have a standard narrative format. There was a collective groan and boo when the movie ended. It was very good through. 5 out of 5 monkeys.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Curse you, The Eagles! Curse you to hell!!!!!

About 53 seconds in. Wait for it. Yea, it is a cover of what you think it is.

Well, Don Henley. NEVER.

Also, why do I not want to watch this movie, but I liked the show? Perhaps I was previously delusional? Let's assume yes.

Or is it the soundtrack?!

Damn it! I know math, you jerk!

Last night I stopped to get gas at my regular station. My car wasn't empty, at a hair under a quarter of a tank, in fact my gas light was not on; but I knew I wouldn't feel like getting gas this weekend.

It was taking a really long time and when I wandered over to the pump I noted that it said that I had put 15 gallons of gas in my tank and was still going till I stopped it.
My tank only holds approximately 15 gallons.
Figuring that I started with at least 2 gallons (probably more), it should have stopped at 13 at the most.
So I went inside and explained the situation and got the manager's number.

Today I called him and he told me that it is "impossible".

Is it possible that he doesn't know what 'impossible' means? I'm guessing yes. He told me that they just had their yearly inspection, but he would check the pump. But he spoke to me in the way that communicated that he thinks I'm a complete idiot.

If my gas had been low when I got to the station, I would shrug it off, but this seems weird to me. I've never gotten to 15 gallons at any pump and I have run my car very close to completely empty a couple of times. Once quite recently in fact.

Now, obviously gas gauges are inaccurate and fuel tank capacities are approximate, but is it even possible that they could that far off? I know that there is space in a tank for gas vapors to accumulate and that if you were topping your car off, you could encroach on that space, but could that happen when you are not topping off?

Thursday, February 21, 2008

If you are missing my incoherent ramblings

this post is for you!

1. (I'm going to get into trouble for this but...) I was at a dinner party last week and twice this kind of snotty fellow commented on my wit or word choice. Sometimes when someone compliments you it comes out like an insult, e.g. "You are twice as pretty as Roseanne Bar."
So whether or not it was intended (and I believe it was) to me the compliments sounded like, "Wow, you can string words together into coherence, which, just by looking at you, I had not expected."
Now I don't know if it is because I'm a girl, or because I had a low cut shirt, or because I am not painfully horrible to look at, but the bottom line was that in contrast to his expectation, I was not a *complete* idiot.
Which is awesome. Don't worry, annoying party guy, you look *exactly* as I expect smart guy to look.

2. After finding out that I actually know people that have been snubbed by eharmony I decided to try their 'personality quiz'. While apparently I could find "matches," I am incredulous of the concept of asking people to rate their attractiveness or stylishness, their honesty or selflessness. I wonder if women rate themselves as less attractive than they are and men higher. If honest people mark themselves as less honest. And selfless people as selfish.
Furthermore, I think the thing that struck me the most is that I had no idea if I was stylish, sexy, or beautiful. That I could not pick a number to represent me, because in spite of all my former exploits, all the accusations of pheromones, and all the pricey handbags, I can not see myself as stylish, sexy, or beautiful. I can recognize that I am slightly better than your average Walmart shoppers, but compared to my friends in my peer group I'm rough, fat, and utterly unstylish.
Additionally, eharmony asks me questions that I have a hard time answering without sounding crazy, e.g. "Quiana, what are you passionate about?"
Justice? Ethics? Living a life that I can be proud of? The dangers of raccoons?
In the end I wrote "cookies." Cookies and the loved ones to whom I feed cookies.

3. Speaking of cookies, my dad emailed me weeks ago. And I held out on you guys, because I was completely panicked.
I guess he googled me, and got my work email. I don't know if it was my googling him, or if it was coincidence, or if he reads this blog. But I feel as though my humiliating and weak moment summonsed him ala satan.
He emailed me and asked how I was, what I was doing. And I replied, politely. But then he asked me to call him, or my brother. And I haven't. I think because I can't. I physically can't.
But ignoring a parent does not make them go away. And time has made me a far better person, so what right do I have to judge someone for decades old acts? And my brother has done nothing to justify cutting him out of my life.
So I want to email him back with a link to a different blog. A blog that I am creating to show my dad and brother who I am. To be distant and safe.

You tell me, is a briefly annotated photo essay a cold/bad/crazy way to communicate with estranged relatives? Or is it crazy brilliant?

And should I pull unfavorable posts about my dad from the blog? Because maybe it is mean to say unfavorable things about someone to everyone in the world?

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

The Most Boring LARP Ever.

Yesterday someone googled "'this american life' LARP" and got to SUC.

This is the kind of LARP that I would like. I call dibs on Sarah Vowell.

I'm afraid that some sort of fight will break out over who gets to be Dan Savage, David Sedaris, and Ira Glass; but this is what happens when you have some hot NPR LARPing.

This is how I see this going. Picture Steve in a suit and glasses, sitting at a desk under a dilapidated overpass.... "Hello, this is Ira Glass. Uh... today I talked to some American Lady, it was uh poignant and touching, and by that I mean touching POOP!"

Imagine me flouncing in, dressed as Sarah Vowell, dressed as Mary Todd Lincoln.
"Damn it Steve you're ruining everything! Next time you have to be Tory Malatia!"

"WHAT!?!" declares Steve standing up from the desk to reveal he is not wearing pants, "Poop jokes are always funny, there is never a poop joke that isn't funny."

Addy, dressed as Dan Savage, toting a one-eyed stuffed toy poodle, dejectedly weeps at her bad taste in men.


Now just imagine a Car Talk LARP.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Angry Quiana! Quiana SMASH!

At Halliburton/KBR, sexual assault is just part of the workplace experience for women

The link above is to a news story about two women who were sexually assaulted by coworkers in Iraq who are not being allowed to take their attackers to court because they signed a binding contract stating that they would submit to arbitration in 'these matters.'

If this were me I would assume that walking up to my former attackers and shooting them would be an ok form of arbitration.

Since none of us can exactly boycott KBR, I think the only thing that we can do is get this story to stay in the news and on the minds of Americans. So tell your friends about this. Tell your elected officials. They should be angry. I know I am.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

What is more pathetic than watching Veronica Mars on Valentine's Day?

Reading comics and watching This Old House while eating a cinnamon roll in bed in sweats. RAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWRRRRRRR! Still single!

Anyway, I've been pondering posting the occasional poem. I've always been fond of this particular poem- though almost everyone I know hates it. But it is my blog so nya.
(Please don't sue me.)
So here it is:

Robert Creeley's Eros

Also the headache of
to do right by feeling
it don't matter, etc.

But otherwise it was one, or even two
the space of, felt

and one night I said to her, do you
and she didn't.

Happy Valentine's Day!

What are my hot Valentine's Day plans? Well, Veronica Mars and I have a date to eat delicious cookies and takeout and maybe paint my toenails.

Eat your hearts out smoochy couple types!

And now here is some thieved Valentine's Day content:

What Do These Valentine Gifts Tell You About the Gift-Giver? By Dan @ ShoeboxBlog.

Candy: Someone wants to have sex with you!
Teddy Bear: Someone wants to have sex with you!
Lingerie: Someone wants to have sex with you!
Dinner at a fancy restaurant: Someone wants to have sex with you!
Tickets to a show: Someone wants to have sex with you!
If you’re reading this right now: Someone wants to have sex with you!

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Filler Onegaishimasu: Giant Nut Edition

Guess who is still sick and disgusting? Yup, me.

Hence no good posts. If you guys want I can tell you all about what is happening on TV and in National Geographic, but my guess is that you would rather just have a bit of filler. So, hey look! It's filler! Filler with HUGE nuts!

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Random me-ness.

I am quite nervous about my health and will be making an appointment to get into the doctor's office tomorrow morning (I've been motion sick and had pain in my ears and through for a few days). Hopefully, I can complete the necessary work at the office, go to the doctor's, and go home early, because my throat is swollen and I deeply desire to sleep and not talk or have to swallow. Perhaps this is the zombie plague I've been fearing. If so, watch out because I am hungry.

The wedding, which was not without trauma, went really well today thanks to the good attitude of all involved and I think that I successfully hid the extent of my illness from the happy couple, but I think I will collapse at any moment. I pray that this wedding will conclude my long and varied bridesmaiding career.

In weird news: I agreed to go out with a MUCH younger man on the grounds that he gave me no option, which is very sneaky. Men: to throw off a chick say, "I think you should let me take you out sometime, so what's your number?" As you can see this is not a yes or no question. So I gave him my number, but I still feel like I should be able to call shenanigans.

Anyway, I'm off to bed and perhaps I will wake up refreshed and miraculously well?

Friday, February 08, 2008

Quick Thoughts

1. Last week I dreamt that I was sitting with Dean Kamen on his private island and we were discussing (read kind of arguing) about the Segway, which we were referring to as Ginger, which any nerd will understand. Anyway and finally I bellowed, “Dude [yes I totally called Dean Kamen ‘dude’] Ginger will never revolutionize human transport until it is light enough for me to lift!”

2. Yesterday I had a dream inspired by a cat macro. This is because I am nuts. This is the macro via

This is the dream:
I was on the run from someone and I was with some kid and Addy [hi Addy!] and we needed a house so I used my mammoth amounts of spare cash to purchase a giant brownstone in some decrepit neighborhood. And I bought it because it had a solarium, and in same said solarium was a fat gray cat.

3. I am a bridesmaid in my friend Bonnie’s wedding and the rehearsal dinner was last night, and I noticed that the mother of the bride was sitting on her own. So, for once a tiny kernel of pity welled up in my heart and I went over and said “So are you excited?” and she said, “No.”

Now the twist in the story is that I didn’t give her the back of my hand.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Screw you NPR!

You totally ruined the end of Season Three of Lost. I have scrupulously avoided all discussions, commercials, and blogs involving Lost. But I did not even suspect that you, NPR would be the one to utterly ruin the end of season three for me.

There you were buzzing in the background about Obama and then whammo in less than 40 seconds, you dropped a HUGE Lost spoiler. And by that I mean you outlined the entire end of season three before I even realized what you were talking about. If only I had paid more attention, I would have realized you were talking about Lost before you explicitly said what had happened in the season finale. But I can't blame myself. This is your ass-clownery NPR!

And on today, of all days, when Jim and I had plans to watch another few episodes. Another precious few that we have been parsing out to enjoy the delicious suspense.

You bastards! I curse you, NPR, I curse you to hell!!!!

In which Quiana does not make friends...

and also probably does not influence people.

So the coroner's report is out on Heath Ledger and I just have to say that there is no way that a reasonable person would think that mixing OxyContin (painkiller), Valium (anti-anxiety/insomnia), Xanax (anti-depresent), Restoril (sedative/anti-isnomnia), Unisom (sleep aid), and ibuprofen would be a brilliant plan. That is the act of an addict or someone in extremely poor mental health.

I'm not a pharmacist, but my guess was that if one pharmacy or doctor was handling all these prescriptions, someone there would have flagged him with a warning. This is why should should always use the same physician's practice and the same pharmacy.

I don't believe that Ledger killed himself on purpose, but saying that this is some tragic accident is ludicrous. Being killed in a plane crash is a tragic accident; I believe the name for this is cause and effect. This isn't some rare incident. Homemade prescription drug cocktails will kill you.

And I am ticked off and I shouldn't write it, but I want to add that after oxycodone, the ibuprofin is a bit ridiculous.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Dean Kamen, are you hitting on me?

I'm just going to assume that every time you do something awesome, such as inventing a prosthetic arm based upon Luke Skywalker's prosthetic arm, that you are totally flirting.
Dean Kamen, isn't it time for a midlife crisis girlfriend? Call me!

Thanks for the link, Drew.

Monday, February 04, 2008

sniff sniff snuffle snuffle cough HONK!

So, still sick. Went into the office for two and a half hours and left.

Now I am home and starting some delicious chili, to cook all day, so that I can sleep until 6pm.

Couldn't find Tylenol PM anywhere (fine, I only tried Top Foods) and I took Nyquil last night and I am convinced that it caused sleep apnea. Which is scary shit.

So, I'm going back to sleep soon, without the Nyquil which may or may not (probably the latter) make me sometimes forget to breathe.

But before I go I just want to say that Chris told me a homeless man is sleeping under the stairs of my apartment and I am very unhappy about this situation and my solution is to go out the back door from here on out.

Back door: now with %100 less hobos. And you can take that however you want, because I am sick and going to bed and don't have time to deal with you now, you big pervert.

Friday, February 01, 2008

Now with even more of the sexy!

So my sore throat has progressed from truck stop lady voice to fine sounding voice if you are into huge coughing phlegm fits of doom. Last night I woke up from slumber at 3 and proceeded to cough so hard I ran to the bathroom, afraid I was going to hurl. I have done this twice this morning.

I was going to go into to work but a brief glimpse in the mirror was enough to convince me that I needed to stay home some more. Which is a huge shame, as I was all set to attend a hot-tub, fondue, Groundhog's Day party tomorrow night, but communal food and chemical fumes are probably not a great idea for a few days yet. Hopefully I'll be up and moving by Sunday because I refuse to miss two excellent eating occasions in a row.

Additionally, I'm running super-slowly right now as I'm sick, but I am still super bored. I've been mostly sleeping so that is fine, but holy cow! When they say that there is nothing on TV during the day, it is completely false. There is a ton of shit on TV. Today I've watched a show where they make people over so they appear younger and skinnier, the news, three cooking shows and a documentary on Croatia. *tears of anguish* At least I can enjoy working my way through my mammoth stack of unread comics.

But what I really desire (besides ice cream and cinnamon rolls and nachos) is human interaction. Hopefully I can trick some of you healthies into hanging out with me (read lounging around + snacks) tomorrow to relieve me of my solitude. This completely destroys my personal goal/fantasy of becoming a hermit.

In other news, I am running out of food and clean clothes. Hey, please come over, there is no food and my clothes are filthy. Sounds awesome right? What? No?

ps- The owner of the good cheesesteak place I mention a while ago was gunned down by some local troublemaker who wanted to sell drugs in his restaurant. I am pretty sad about it. Thanks, The News.

OK less blog writing, more phlegm hacking!