Rants 2006


Summer 2006

I hate shopping for pants. Frankly, I hate most women’s pants. They are uncomfortable, unattractive, and expensive. What’s up with being so low-waisted you get a plumber’s crack, so tight you have no room to sit, so wide you trip on the legs, or so narrow your calves are trapped like sausages? Or even worse, more than one of these problems! And women’s pant styles change all the time, so if you find one that fits well, good luck finding it in six months. I’m going to start wearing garbage sacks. So there.

Hot weather. When I can take no more clothing off and it’s still too hot, I would like to issue a complaint. I fear we have round two of the heat coming up shortly.

Sadly, I fail to appreciate the classic American musical form. It’s, well, annoying and tedious. And the music doesn’t “do it” for me. I wish it did, but it doesn’t. I can think of a very few exceptions: Little Shop of Horrors and, uh, Little Shop of Horrors. Oh, Avenue Q was fun, but because of Sesame Street music, not American musical music. Um. I think I survived Sweeney Todd fairly well, but I recall a lot of blood that I think perked things up.

Pigeons are horrid, horrid creatures.

Spring 2006

Went to a fancy-pants political gala last night, and the self-important adults all seemed a little ridiculous. Far too many grown-up events remind me all too much of Model United Nations when I was in high school — we had lots of fun bustling around making loser countries feel left out and passing notes. But somehow I assumed that things would function on a higher plan when I was grown up. But at least we all get to pass notes and use our special electronic communication devices. Speaking of which, I’m ready for my Star Trek transponder!

So I recoded this site, but then I got bogged down in the number of pages that need to be transferred. Oh well. And then I stopped updating all together. So sad.

Why won’t the java applets run on my computer? Why? I want to join my class chat rooms, but instead I am stuck outside. And I can’t even press my nose against the window and see who is talking. So lonely…