Hometown: The Roch, MI (aka. The Crotch, aka. Crotchscratcher, aka. Crotchmolester, aka. Rochester)
Currently Living: Clawson, MI
Height: 5'8
Weight: Ha ha, yeah right
Favorite Color: Blue (preferably navy)
Profession: Researcher
Favorite Nickname: Trick, Sloan
Favorite Drinks:Vodka Tonic, Guinness, Diet Dr. Pepper, Dirty Martinis, red wine
Favorite TV Show: Friends, Sex & The City, Project Runway, The Amazing Race, Iron Chef America
Least Favorite TV Show: A Baby Story, I Love Lucy, Martha Stewart, Everybody Loves Raymond, every hour long drama
Favorite Books: The History of Love, Beloved, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Fight Club, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The of Being, SurUnbearable Lightness vivor, Empire Falls, The Corrections, The Bell Jar
Favorite Movies: Little Miss Sunshine, Anchorman, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Wordplay, American Beauty, Life is Beautiful, Amelie, Breakfast Club, Singin In The Rain, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sleeping Beauty, Dancer in the Dark, Duets, The Virgin Suicides, The Manchurian Candidate (1962), Austin Powers I, II & III, My Best Friends Wedding, Moulin Rouge, Tommy Boy, Billy Madison, The Shining, Gone With The Wind, Bridget Jones' Diary, Chicago, Love Actually
Guilty Pleasure Movies: Xanadu, Dirty Dancing, Overboard, Groundhog Day, Steel Magnolias, 10 Things I Hate About You, Bond movies, Footloose, Clue, Murder By Death, High Spirits, A Cinderella Story
What I Do Too Much: Check email, crossword puzzles, complain about my job to friends and family,
Obsessions: sushi, Indian food, ranch dressing, toenail polish, song lyrics, hands, awards shows, symmetry, avocados, maps, dreams, This American Life, the display in my car that tracks my MPG
Pet Peeves: loud eaters, slurping, gulping, arrogance, snoring, bad grammar, repetition, late mergers, ripping cardboard, the word "chunky", intolerance, couples in a restaurant sitting on the same side of a booth, pop-up ads, privacy manager, men that drive without shirts on, being foolish, unfairly jumping to conclusions, being made fun of, cat-calling, people who type too hard
Greatest Fear: crossing bridges
Relaxing Activites: late night drives to sing by myself, headstands, hot baths,
Wish I Was: Ansel Adams, Jenifer Aniston, in love, living alone
Prized Possessions: ring from my grandparents, flower pot of my Grandma's, electric blanket (temporarily broken), tongue scraper, my bed
Craziest Thing Ever Done: getting a tattoo, strip Jenga
Things I Eventually Want To Do: skydive, buy a guitar, learn how to play the aforementioned guitar, take flying lessons, travel to France, write a novel, learn how to play the harp, tap dancing lessons, run a marathon
Monday, June 12, 2006 I can tell that we goin' be friends....Ohhh...and so Monday drags me down again after such a fun weekend. Even though I know full well that I should be devoting more time to contructive work over the weekend, I justify it allll away. For example, "Well, it's unheard of to do work on Friday night! I just busted my ass all week, I deserve a night off!" Or another example, "Well, I have to clean the bathroom and do laundry on Saturday, and that should roughly take....all day. And by the time I'm done, it'll be time to go out." Or, perhaps one more example, "Man, I swam today and went for a walk, and have been out in the sun all day. I definitely think a Sunday evening nap is in order." So as you can tell, I took the slacker vibe to the limit this weekend. And now Monday blows.
Then, there was even that moment yesterday. Driving with the windows down, dancing to G Love and The Staple Singers, making jokes with the boy about his trunk being open (never gettin' old!), knowing that my face was sunburned, thinking about a fantastic morning, that I was certain that I couldn't be happier. It's that exact moment. That one. Right there. That one that's getting me through my Monday. That's reminding me that amongst the turmoil of all the bullshit that we deal with on a daily basis. That those moments are still there to be had. When it honestly feels like there isn't a giant weight on your shoulders. When you (and everyone you're with), can shove it all aside and just sing all the words to "Booty Call" and not give a crap about anything else except getting the words right or singing them as loud as you can. That's what it's all about.
Well, it's time for me to head to the gym. And only because I'm beginning to amass pictures and such for my thesis presentation (we'll ignore the fact for now that it's no where NEAR being started/done), I'll give you some really bad bird flu jokes. Enjoy.
