How Old Am I Again?

Another obsession (as of late):

from here.

from here.

from here.

from here.

from here.

from here.

I can hear my sister making fun of me now.

An Empty Bookcase

A few days ago, my Mom asked me the name of the last book I read.
And you know what?
I couldn't remember.
Translation = THAT SUCKS.

So, I'll make ya'll a deal: you suggest some titles to me, and I shall read them.
Okay?
Okay.
Read: I am soliciting some advice from you, Internets
Particularly if your name is Lizzie or Molly Beth.
Anyone else is welcome to participate, as well.

As of this moment, I have A Wolf At The Table on my nightstand.
Any other brilliant ideas?

I know I can count on you guys...

from here.

Distractions.

It's my day off today.
I haven't showered.
I haven't even left my bed.
Yes, I am aware that it is almost one in the afternoon.
It is my day off.
What do you want from me?

Also: there seems to be a large, gray feline who doesn't want me to get out of bed, either.
Or do anything other than scratch behind his ears (i.e. type on my laptop).
Observe.

Oh.
And now he is trying to chew the computer to get my attention.
Awesome.

I'm really good...

...at making not-so-good choices.

Specifically, the fact that I have been roped into seeing "Paranormal Activity 2" tonight.
I love being scared.
But hate scary movies.
Ironic?
Maybe.
Bad idea?
Definitely.

And, you may ask me, "but Molly, shouldn't you be blogging? Because, you know...it's been about 50 bajillion years since you've done so."

You're right, gentle reader.
You. Are. Right.

And I will do so.

When I have my next day off.

Which is Thursday.

Until such time, I am going to enjoy my tofu nuggets from Trader Joe's.
And then proceed to get the poop scared out of me.

Love!

If drinking vodka in the middle of the day is wrong...

from here.

...then I don't want to be right.

Attention People:

I am in super-mega-major project mode.

I don't know what's going on.

But am I currently:
spray painting.
regular painting.
stealing paint sample from Home Depot (secret project. Will post pictures)

Organizing the heck out of:
my dresser drawers.
under my bed.
my closet (the clothing AND the shelves full of crap. I know.)

cleaning the bathroom.
doing dishes.
50 billion loads of laundry.
dusting. (dusting?)
vacuuming.

Weird.

Be back on Planet Earth tomorrow.
Hopefully.

BULLS#!T

Okay J.Crew.

I get it.
I get that every time you guys have a corporate meeting, priority numero uno is: "how can we make Molly's life suck exponentially more?"

A veritable gaggle of cashmere sweaters in new colors?
Maybe.

Seductive, feather-light silk shells that work under cardigans and blazers?
Slightly painful.

Creating a line of breathtaking wedding apparel when I have no need for such a thing?
Torture.

But this?
This latest stunt of yours?
Hilarious.

And not so much in a funny "ha ha ha" kind of way.
More like a funny "stab stab stab" way.

Seriously, J.Crew.
Making your factory store available ONLINE?
A bounty of beautifully constructed and moderately-priced classic fashion at my fingertips?
That's just low.
Even if it IS only on the weekends.

My bank account and I do not approve.

from here.

And neither does this sea turtle, apparently.

Gather 'Round, Designers

Damn.

Tim Gunn let Team Luxe haaaaaaaave it on tonight's episode.

Dear Timmy,

You are my fave.
Make it work.

PS- Gretchen is a heinous bitch.

In case anyone was wondering

Some things about my life at it's present state:

I joined a gym.
So that I don't look like this:

It should be of note, however, that on Tuesday evening I spent 45 minutes on the elliptical machine because I thought, "I'm relatively fit. I can handle it" and proceeded to pull both my calf muscles and am now forced to hobble about like a 103 year-old.
Which kind of supports the notion that I needed to join a gym in the first place.
If you ask me.


I just spent a gloriously relaxing (...right) week with my charming family here:

That's me and my wonderful cousin, Jenny.
Here we are acting all nonchalant around the paparazzi.
Being famous can be sooo annoying, don't you think?
Photo-essay on our fabulous adventures soon to come.


I also got a new job.
Like, as in one that involves and office and a desk and company.

Pretty groovy, right?
I enjoy it.
And I will tell you all about it.
Soon.
My life is only so interesting.
I have to milk sources for bloggin material when I can.


Also, some people had some birthdays:

photo from here.
Their names are:
Mom
Dad
Blake
Gramma
Grandpa
Marie
Lara
Amber
Aunt Jane
Danny
And I owe them all special birthday blogs.
What?
Shut up.
I've been busy.
That doesn't make me a bad daughter/granddaughter/niece/cousin/girlfriend/BFF.
Okay. Maybe it does.


So what was the point of this post, you ask?
Mostly to make my grandmother happy because she keeps whining about how I never blog anymore.

Old family photo found from here.
Looks good for her age, doesn't she?
I'm actually kind of impressed that she can still use a computer.
Way to go Grams!


Stay tuned for more awesomeness.

If you ever wanted to know what it's like to cry at work

Just ask the me from ten minutes ago.

I found this a little bit ago via A CUP OF JO.

Lara tried to stop me.

I didn't listen.

What's wrong with me?

I dare you not to cry when you read it.

I dare you.

I'm going to call my grandfather and tell him I love him.

Right now.

And so should you.

Stupid Decisions

We all make them.
Some of them involve too much tequila or a second cupcake or the color mauve. All of which I of course know nothing about.
Some of them are a little more serious. Some of them have a profound effect on the rest of your life.

My choice tonight was none of that.
It was purely self-indulgent and the result was something along the lines of me getting the sh*t freaked out of me. Which is really productive when you're in a big building all by yourself, you know, at night and stuff.

Sometimes when I work these overnights I watch movies or television shows on websites that stream media. I don't download anything- I just watch stuff that's readily available. As of late, I've kind of been on a "WB shows of my adolescence" kick. I just finished the first season of "Rosewell", and tonight I decided to see what "Supernatural" was all about.
I guess you could kind of say that my television show tastes while working fall into the same category as my reading habits (see: Cullen, Edward): teenage girl.

I will admit that I've always been something of a scaredy-cat.
I couldn't watch "ET" until it was re-released when I was, like, 17.
"The Leprechaun" scarred me for life and to this very day I cannot watch it or even look at Warwick Davis without experiencing chills up my spine. This made viewing "Harry Potter" a little difficult.
The giant mole-thing from "City of Ember" still give me nightmares. And I saw that movie a mere two months ago.
Basically I have little to no tolerance for things that are even remotely unnerving.

So...and why did I choose to watch a show entitled "Supernatural" again? One would think that a show whose title pretty much implies that it has everything to do with ghosts and demons and monsters would send up red flags all over the place.

No so much.

I suppose I figured that I could handle it. After all, if I can survive living in a studio apartment with 96876 boxes, a single bathroom, two cats, and one cranky boyfriend, I can probably deal with any daunting thing that the worl has to offer.
Besides, how scary can a show birthed from the same network which spawned the likes of "Dawson's Creek" and "Popular" really be?
Apparently very.
At least for me.

Don't believe me?
Let's just say...
There's a security guard from the main hospital on his way out here right now to check the building for anything ghost-oriented.

I'm not even a little bit kidding.

Dear Eric and Marie

Yes that is your sock.

No, I don't care.

I know. I'm a bad friend.

Sorry.

Love,
Molly

PS- He also chewed a bunch of paper up. All over your living room floor.
You're welcome.

Am I The Only Person This Stuff Happens To?

The Universe attempted to tell me one of two things on Tuesday night:

1. I should not be eating tater-tots at midnight.
2. I should consider wearing less make-up.

Whilst baking those amazing nuggets of potato-y goodness with the oven set at 450 degrees, I bent down to inspect the browning progress (burned is a good way to describe my tot style). When I opened the oven door, I felt like someone punched me in the eye. Oh, and I smelled burning hair.
So that was a good sign.
According to the bathroom mirror, the oven was attempting to burn the mascara off my eyelashes.

"Ow" is right.

Now I have miniature red burn marks underneath my eyes.
Plus it hurt like hell.

But for some reason, I don't think I'll be following either of those suggestions anytime soon.

Thanks anyway, Universe.

Because after all, tomorrow is another day.

I think that someone must've put a Voodoo curse on me this week, or something.

Kind of like David Boreanaz on "Buffy."
Except that might have been a Gypsy curse...
And I still have my soul. So, not QUITE the same.


First, my laptop commits suicide (okay, really it probably counts as more of an assassination...but whatever).

Then, all of my cardigans have been abducted by the clothes gnomes. Rather, that is the only explanation that makes sense at this point, as I cannot find ANY of them. (PS- Marie, did YOU steal them from me? I promise to only yell at you a little bit if you did...)

Finally, the Pièce de résistance: I got a speeding ticket last night.
And I'm pretty sure I wasn't even actually speeding.

Sigh.

Two happier things (that seemed to have escaped the talons of the evil Voodoo/Gypsy curse that is defiling my existence), however, make my horizon just a tad brighter.

1. I am almost done with the fourth and final book in the Twilight series. This is both good and bad, as I'll probably slip into a deep depression when I'm finished much like I did with the last Harry Potter book, but I'll also be able to continue on with my life as a normal human being without the added handicap of thinking like a thirteen year-old girl.

2. Drum roll please.... it's my little brother's birthday tomorrow!
What?
You didn't know I had a little brother?
Well, that's probably because he is currently living in the far reaches of the Eastern seaboard, aka Providence.
And he's turning 21 tomorrow.
Which means...I get to write another super-awesome mushy birthday blog post!

Which he's sure to love.

Not.

I might get beat up for it, actually.

But maybe it'll embarrass him the teeny weeniest bit.
Which will make the ruptured spleen I will undoubtedly receive as my gift on Christmas morning so very worth it.



I'm so excited I can hardly wait.

Just Like Boston, but Without the Political Dissention

So, I spilled tea all over my laptop.
And now it won't turn on.

Yeah, I know. My genius amazes me, too.

Hopefully, my dishwasher/snow shoveler/computer repair guy can make it work again.
Either way, I will be accepting donations for a new laptop and/or emotional therapy.


Just so this post isn't totally gloomy, here's a picture of the cutest cat ever (mine) doing his favorite yoga pose:

I like to call this position "Inappropriate"

The Verdict

Re: Quantum of Solace

Ummm...I was bored.
Like, for real.
I think we all expected better, especially from "the best Bond movie ever."
No seriously.

One of the more redeeming elements?

Please observe the display at the right -------->
Yeah.
And he wore some really awesome Valentino suits.
And a tux.
A TUX.
I think we all know how I feel about men in tuxes.

Yes.


On a more productive note... the tire is fixed! Freaking finally.
Three cheers for AAA, who arrived in under ten minutes, not to mention the fact that they got down on the dirty, nasty, wet ground. While I watched.
I salute you, AAA!


We watched this movie tonight before I had to go to work about vampires in Sweden and bullies and bad haircuts (I only included that because there are a LOT of bad haircuts in this movie-- more on that later). It was, to say the least, enjoyable. Scratch that. Very enjoyable. It was poignant and profound and not at all scary like other Vampire-oriented flicks. I'm not even kidding. It in no way made me think that I would wake up in the middle of the night and look out the window and endure a paralyzing wave of terror coupled with visions of vampires leaping across the roofs of snow-covered buildings in the moonlight.
Not that such a thing has ever happened.
Especially not after watching 40 Days of Night.

Anyway, the best part of the movie was not, as you might imagine, the artistic styling or progressive character development. I think the award for most entertaining movie element goes to the colorful commentary that comes along with watching ANY movie with me.
Not because I'm witty.
Mostly because I don't always think before I say things.

For example, I decided to let everyone know that I had been to Sweden (where the movie was set, in case you missed that part). I happen to do that every time I'm watching a TV show of movie that involves someplace I've been.
Why do I do such a thing?
Because I am awesome.

So I announced that I was familiar with the Swedes. Like the bad-ass that I am.
And, as a result, I endured some following questions all throughout our movie-going experience:
"Hey Molly, are all haircuts in Sweden that crappy?"
"Do all Swedes walk around in their underwear constantly?"
"Apparently, Swedish forensic science is not as advanced as their furniture-making abilities."

Okay, so maybe that last one was me.

Either way, I should probably stop painting myself as some kind of expert on foreign culture. Particularly since I'm not.

Oh, and a quick note to my Mom:
I hereby solemnly swear to never EVER put you in a nursing home.
Explanation to follow sometime in the near future.

I'm going to go eat some more jalapeno pretzels now.

Why Did I Get Invited To This Party Anyway?

I did something incredibly stupid last night. No, Mom. I didn't kill a hobo, harvest his organs and sell them on the black market. At least I would've made some money in that scenario.



Wait for it... wait for it....




I ate a doughnut.

AND THEN I GOT HEARTBURN.