pour me some Haterade, baby

I don’t generally consider myself a cruel person, but I watched the video of Ashlee Simpson getting booed at the Orange Bowl, and a cool spring of schadenfreude welled up in my parched soul, and lo, didst I laugh.

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A tip o' the lid to [cream] for inspiring the remainder of this entry.

Feeling: Very very hungry.

Thinking: About G. We're having a double date (how retro!) with his best friend and his wife. I'm a bit nervous; even though I've met them before, I had alcohol to lubricate my shy-gear, and was much more outgoing than I ordinarily would be. I'm sure it will be fine, though.

Hoping: That this zit on my cheek goes away soon.

Wishing: I could get the song from the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory trailer out of my head.

Craving: A Subway 6" sub on white with ham, mustard, and pickles. And a Coke. And a bag of Lay's salt and vinegar potato chips.

Fuming: About how the department secretary always puts stuff in my inbox and writes "Please record!!!" on it, as though I am a child that constantly must be told what to do.

Planning: To do laundry tonight. Envy my glamorous existence!

Hating: The department secretary.

Wondering: Why dogs kick their leg when you scratch their tummies.

Reading: Bleachy-Haired Honky Bitch by Hollis Gillespie.

Listening: To "T'en Va Pas" by Elsa. I must find more songs by this woman toute suite.

Lusting: After Sawyer from "Lost". I want to lick syrup from his navel.

Faking: Work.