You GUYS. Firstly, when I got back from Hawaii, my router was all fucked up, so I’m posting this while sitting atop a mountain of clothing because I have to sit in this hellhole of a room to use internets (other than my beloved/heavily abused gphone).
Anyway, those of you who know me IRL know that I made a decision to start doing all these healthyish things as soon as I got back. Such as:
*starting to run
*quitting smoking cigarettes (WHITE KNUCKLING IT, expect some posts telling all of you how much I H8 u even though I actually heart all of you so hard)
*quitting doing certain things and/or people that I need to stop “doing”
*quitting the PhD program, which I tried to do via gphone email (literally) at the airport bar. GUESS WHAT, didn’t work. Why doesn’t it work? How does this continue to happen? I’ve done this, what, 8 times now? God, I almost wanna check my blog archives just to record my own audacity. Anyway, he was like, no. ”Whatever, Ang. I”ll placate you for now, and I’ma let u finish, but you’re gonna gradumate cause I’m a new professor and I don’t care.”
*getting a house keeper every two weeks
[Ed. Note: Check out the difference between gphone pics and iphone pics. iphone pic is the clear one in the middle fml]
Hi yes I routinely look at my naked ass in the mirror. YOU DO IT, TOO, so hush your face. The accident scene was such a blur and the EMT’s did several things to me with gauze and liquids, but I did not recall anyone aiding my ass with band. Took me a while, but I finally remembered that the fucking bitch doctor wouldn’t give me painkillers, and instead told a nurse to put some pseudo-strong ibuprofen into my glute. MYSTERY SOLVED.
[EDIT: She eventually gave me the painkillers after I threw a shitfit.]
hi do you think I need to clean this? Last year:
As of this morning:
(Yes, that’s a pink wig. Don’t even worry about it.)
Update — one for depth measure:
It looks like shit. How many loads of laundry do you think that is? I’m actually going to clean it, so whoever guesses the closest gets something from me in the mail (liquid, gas or mineral).
1) Any form of WIN in the Passive-Aggressive Games of the Monday 330 meeting
2) Mother stopping by to get all in my kool-aid and fuck shit up [Currently In Progess]
3) Anything Balls-to-the-Wall
4) Stevie Nicks calling Lindsay Lohan’s kettle black? Luv Steve, but hasn’t she done enough cocaine to safely say that she has done a SHIT LOAD of cocaine?
There is no cure for embarrassment. Only avoidance. Or alcohol.
The single most embarrassing event I can think of? Passing a pouf in public. Cutting the cheese in Calcutta. The two worst-possible-evar-scenarios:
1) Audibly breaking wind in a group, and it very obviously came from YOU
2) Silently dropping a gnarly egg-bomb, and it’s just you and one other
Clearly, there are two options:
1) Acknowledge it: Make a joke, gracefully apologize, say “Whoops!” and quickly change the subject
2) DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE
I really don’t know what’s best. I think dying is pretty much the only feasible option.
When is the last/worst time this happened to you? OR ARE YOU NOT GOING TO SAY ANYTHING. You can change your name if you want. I’ll wait at least a week before I out you. :D I know the heaviness of the situation; it’s even worse than when my woman’s blood spotted on the butt of my jeans in junior high.
EDIT: Pussy farts are now included, since overnight you commenters have grown a modesty gene or something (blaming it on Queen Mother, Rev. Twatkin?)
I ASSASSINATED that presentation.
Just kidding. But I didn’t die, vomit, OR start crying! Actually, I think I did pretty well for my first conference talk. OMFG PICTURZ:
Sorry I’ve been MIA! My connecting flight was canceled and other boring shit happened, but I’m back and holy crap did you guys see this last night? Or this? Or this?! [And thanks for the tights, Yipany!]
Ugh. Time to put on the big-girl panties, cause I’m giving my first talk at a conference. Fucking LAZER-POINTERZ. Grown-ups staring at me while I try not to act like a fucking spaz.
Not entirely sure how wearing BGP’s are gonna help me, but hell, I’ll give it a shot.
So it’s really great that not only do I have the SARS (I’m really ill and pretty sure this is what SARS feels like), but I also have Three Big Meetings tomorrow.
Two of the three involve PowerPoint slides accompanied by my voice, and I’m seriously considering wearing my SARS mask so people will get creeped and want to GTFO as soon as possible.
Yeah, you’re gonna want to wipe down your monitor after leaving here.
So he got dropped from Kellog. Who fucking cares.
I AM GETTING CROTCHETY AND OLD. I don’t think I used to bitch so much about everything. Isn’t this what really old people do?
So I tried not to look at this while I ate my dinner last night:
I’m not really into tentacles. At all. Would you describe something as “tenticular”, “betentacled”, or “awash with tentacle”?
But don’t worry, I’m not on suicide (homicide) watch yet.
*****BORING DETAILS ALERT*****
I used to work on biological networks, but I’m not a biologist, so I wanted to stab my eyes out every day. I’ve always wanted to work on poverty problems, but as I’ve noted before, that’s a pretty crazy thing to try and write a Computer Science dissertation on.
I pointed all of this out during fart meeting, and mister silver-tongued gypsy man was all, “Boo-yah! I’ll let you work on social networks and you can fix poverty like that. And terrorism.”
Btw, by social networks I mean this kind:
and not this kind:
Then he shoved a research paper in my face about “Social Network Capital, Economic Mobility and Poverty Traps” in developing countries, and I figured he won again so I pretty much got up and left. Cause that sounds pretty cool, right guys? Guys?
You may now begin placing bets amongst yourselves about when this post will make the rounds again. By my watch, should be about same time next year. I guess no one’s gonna pay me to pet kittens and puppies all day, so I may as well try this.
BONUS MATERIAL — and SPEAKING of social networks — and breastfeeding — Nakkins is one of the Greater Digital Artists of our time!
Filed under: Jesus Christ, The Lord, don't, mental, oh fuck, scotch, teaching, what a dick, working
Dudes. You know how I like to drop out of the PhD program every year? WELL, I QUIT AGAIN TODAY (via an epic-ass email sent at 3pm.)
My boss’s response: ”I understand your frustration and anxiety. I used to feel that way, too. Let’s meet tomorrow and I’ll give you some tips/lessons I’ve learned on how to deal with stress.”
Jigga WHAAAAt??
He clearly is in denial or only read 1/8th of my email. I picture him looking at it with one eye closed, pointer fingers in his ears, and screaming “LA LA LA LA LA! I CAN’T HEEEAR YOOOOU!!!” Did I mention that the email was epic, and listed all of the reasons why I want to quit, as in QUIT, the program?
@L$H%@$#gw^. So now I get to have “Awkward Conversation of the Year” at 4:30pm tomorrow. At least my Friday presentation for work is now canceled (high-five, guys!)
Wish me luck. I have no idea if I’ll get snake-charmed into staying in the program that makes me hate my life and all living things. LE FUCKING SIGH.
Filed under: Iowa, beer, bored, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, what a dick, you
OK guys: FLIGHT CANCELED. If I could bitch-slap the weather, I would.
I was so looking forward to NOT THIS. Since I am an emotional handicap, I’m pretty sure the entire airport knows I how I feel about my extended stay in Iowa.
Please, someone talk to me. I’ve already tried screaming SERENITY NOW!!!! but that pissed everyone off.
I’ve started drinking.
That smile was captured en route to the Airport of Sadness. It has been turned upside down. A couple-few more heinekens and we’ll right-side-it-up again.
Filed under: Iowa, bored, chillin today, eating food, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, you
Relatively Constant Circumstances:
- Softwater
- Going ANTIQUING against one’s will. Oh yeah I am being super-cereal about this
- Where is the tobasco? Do I have to eat the fish eggs
- Can I put this down your garbage disposal / do you like your dishes in the dishwasher facing North? [AGAIN, super-cereal] / where do I put my empty glass bottle?
- Had to leave all my recreational “God made dirt => dir’t don’t hurt” plant life at home
- B&W movies, of which I don’t have an across-the-board prob with, but who watches “The Day the Earth Stood Still” in its original version when you have 20-something guests in your home?
- Sneaking alochol. Hoping no one planned to put scotch in their eggnog, as I have stolen and hidden it in the basement guestroom.
2) 
3) 
7)
Consequences of the Above C ircumstances
- I cannot get clean, no matter if I rinse long enough to freeze myself out when 6 other people are taking/have already taken showers. Filmy soap scum is an evil, slippery force.
- I’ll show you the rest of my “finds” shortly.
- I am not satiated. Not hardly. The W.T. in me doesn’t like fish eggs.
- I don’t want to be a pretentious dick about your refusal to recycle so let’s all get uncomfs when I ask where to put the empty glass .
- I could handle this whole thing in a more civil manner if I had some herbal assistance and had decided to bring my Wii. My lungs are sort of thanking me, though.
- Actually, who wants to see either version? OK, if you’re a guy with the guy retard gene, may-hap you wanna see the remake with KEANU. Full disclosure, I have the retarded chick gene that has caused me to watch Kate Hudson’s “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days” 130492x.
- When there isn’t 50 people up in the kitchen, must spike whatever is on hand, and with a quickness.
Bonus glass of FAKE WINE of TRICKERY:
P.S. I hope you guys hearted your ecards if you requested one. If you still want one, send me an email at halfassitude at gmail. Wuv you guys, would rather hang out with you via interton any day.
So I’m not sure what I was thinking with this one. I already has a job, and they are none too pleased w/my latest stunt.
I got a call to teach a couple of classes at the local community college, and I was like aight, let’s meet and see what’s up. What is up is that they need someone STAT, and what also is up is that my current employer is not exactly throwing a parade right now. BUT:
FTW I’m not teaching a class at the University next semester, just TA’ing (Teacher Assistant’ing) twice a week. The main concern is how it will interfere with my research. I would like to GTFO of this program one day and before I get hit by a bus or something.
After an epic convo with my boss this afternoon, I think I might could do all three. Final decision to come tomorrow. If my boss(es) DO NOT WANT, then I’ll post another pic tomorrow evening with sadface and two wine bottles indicating extreme disappointment instead of the joy you see above.
Filed under: farts, hammock, intertron, me me me, movies, oh fuck, teaching, what a dick, working
I know I don’t have to explain this to you, because I am clearly one of the better Camera Artists of Our Time and you guys appreciate art. I can tell. But this piece, which I was moved to capture this morning, is entitled “Loneliness” because OBVS, just look at it, and also cause every joy has been sucked out of my life since I am also the Stupidest Decision Maker of Our Time.
Agenda for the first day of the rest of my life:
- Download more music because I am a moron who throws computers around and doesn’t back up her shit
- resolve my love/bored/confused relationship with Yo La Tengo, Bloc Party and Broken Social Scene
- figure out how to get Pandora to work WITH me and not AGAINST me (just cause I marked that I liked a song doesn’t mean I’m OBSESSED with it)
- Write an exam for the class test tomorrow
- Respond to 50 intermittent emails about why students can’t make the exam tomorrow due to recent bodily harm
- Thrash around on the hammock and complain for 30 minutes before I start my research (for MEETING tomorrow, h8 meetings 4 lyfe just everyone leave me alone)
So they built extra cubicles, and I am now forced to drive all the way to work just to sit in one. I’m fucking pissed. Thank GOD “The Slurper” is not in my lab this time (more on him and a longer vid later, right now I have something naughty to do that takes precedence.)
We all know that I don’t exactly “thrive” when forced to do something I don’t want to do. I generally act like a 5-year old in these situations, which is why I spend a lot of time at home. HOWEVS. Last night I tried to make an exception, and all things considered, I give myself a B minus.
Oh wells. I have an extremely hard time concealing my displeasure, to the point where it should be considered a legal retardation or handicap. I was good for about 2 hours, then it started leaking via facial expressions and “funny” [I thought they were funny] comments. YOU CAN’T TAKE ME ANYWHERE.
Know what, alarm clock? Know what woulda been cool? If you had told me that after 5-7 snoozes on my part, you would be like “FUCK YOU then”, and proceed to make executive decisions regarding the rest of my day by shutting yourself off completely.
*BTW, anyone who owns an alarm clock like the one above is an automatic asshole. No questions asked.
So I shot out of bed with 15 minutes to get ready, took a quick Trailer Park Shower (splash of cold water on the face, a fresh layer of deodorant, and a quick teeth-brushing). I was feeling down in the dumps, so I decided to make myself even later and get an Egg McMuffin: I am 100% positive that they fried it in butter today, if that is even possible. Or someone accidentally dropped it in a vat of butter — either way, I almost threw up in the morning meeting I was late for.
A butter-soaked mcmuffin may sound good, but it’s actually quite raunchy. Feeling much better now, hammock-side with a cold one, beautiful day outside, carbon monoxide alarm going off again but not consistently so let’s hope I don’t die. Friday’s are my FAVORITE.
Filed under: he-celebs, oh fuck, old people, politics, she-celebs, tv, what a dick, working
I am so freaking P.O.’d about this. I know I expressed great regret over the last presidential debate-drinking game, but events of tonight’s caliber only come around once or twice in ever. UnFORTUNATELY, I have my weekly Meeting of Death tomorrow morning, and predict that I’ll be working late into the night.
This insanely awesome show will be on in the background, but I won’t be able to experience the event as fully or deeply as the rest of the nation, which no doubt will be engaged in some drinking game. Unless I will, in which case I’ll formulate and post the rules as we go on my tumblr: http://halfassitude.tumblr.com/
