Poo and Such

So you've heard, I'm dating a hunk of a farmboy. But what I haven't told you is that he lives with five other guys in their early to mid 20s. This provides ample opportunity for me to be horrendously disgusted. Like the time I discovered three near-dead bodies stinking up the obligatory Lovesac with a hailstorm of farts in the living room. Or that time someone left their poo mark on the only toilet in the house that isn't infested with AIDS. Yes, the kitchen is scary enough, but the bathrooms are what will deposit sheer horror into every church-going, germ-fearing soul. Luckily I have a bladder of steel, and I've learned to "hold it" even when it comes down to the worst fiarrhea imaginable. It's true that due to my "holding" capabilities I've probably set off bodily chain reactions that will result in my having to have mandatory colonoscopies every six months from here on forward, and yes, my destiny towards incontinence has now taken a turn for the worst, but these are the risks you take while dating a hunky farmboy.

Like the other day we had quite the delightful outing: my hunky farmboy took me to see the dairy cows that he's grown to love like second cousins. He introduced me to Gertie, Michelle, and Shaniqua--three charming heifers with button brown eyes and hooves of gold. He taught me how to tease the milk from the teats of each one, patiently showing me how to gently wrap my hands around their hanging, floppy pink cow phalanges. I found Michelle to be the most patient with my untrained squeeze. It was a tender, bonding moment for us all: I was making dirty cow nipple jokes that were going over his head; he was squirting fresh milk from Shaniqua's udder right into his mouth; Gertie was mooing her lazy moo song. It would have been perfect if Michelle hadn't kicked me in the face after I made a callous remark about her cow cankles. Now I'm minus a few teeth, but my hunky farmboy still loves me just the same.

Anyway, back to the housemates. So the other day, I entered the AIDS-free bathroom to give my silver bladder reprieve. I flicked the switch, turned my head and gasped with grand detestation. My eyeballs began to convulse in their sockets. My heart jiggled violently in my chest. THE GREAT POO HAD RETURNED! Except this time, the Offender had had a little better aim. This time he didn't leave his mark on the toilet seat--yes, this time he had miraculously missed the butt ring. But apparently he had been positioned at a strange angle for the GREAT POO was resurrected in the form of a gigantic, fat skid mark at the back of the bowl! The brown monstrosity was the first I had seen of its kind! Truly a remarkable feat! If I had had my phone on me, I would have documented the anomaly and posted the picture on the interwebs for all to see!

I approached the bowl wary of the massive stain and its poo powers. Gingerly, with my lady finesse, I tore off piece after piece of toilet paper to carefully place it upon the seat to give my rump some sanitary piece of mind. As I prepared to lower myself down on the poo trap, I adjusted my footing, and suddenly I heard a strange crunch. I looked down to see buried beneath my foot was the Offender's glasses. PROOF! Now there was proof of the Offender's identity! PROOF, Y'ALL!

But also, who the fuh leaves their glasses on the floor next to toilet? I mean, COME ON!

"Or would it be Purgatory"

Please send a representative. I have just made the world's largest gem sweater. IN THE WORLD.

I'm bored, so I'm blogging to say that I hope to start updating this thing semi-regularly. As if you really care, but like I said, boredom makes me do strange and bizarre things like updating a crappy blog.

Mini-update:

• I am one 10 page paper away from finishing off my decade-long undergrad career. And I keep repeating this fact because it's nothing short of AMAZING. IN ALL CAPS. Everyone had major doubts--including you! But I did it, and I passed my last mutha frakking French class. Now who da fool?
• Although due to my laziness in the Applying for Graduation department, I won't technically be graduated until August. But I'm not walking so who cares if I'm off by a few months?
• I know where I'm going to grad school and I'll be a lot more excited about it when I actually have brain time to think about it. Check in with the brain schedule next week, and it might just be a high priority.
• I'm dating a darling farmboy who likes science, nacho cheese, and movies starring Brendan Fraser. And sometimes, if I pay him $20 he'll call me Muffin.
• I spend a good amount of time with this person who takes pictures of me in crazy sparkly dresses, while I fondle broccoli. I don't know where I'd be without her. Clearly my life would be total crap if she were not in it.
• I also enjoy spending time with those whom I adore, like Naomes and Ems and other friendly friends.
• As a member of Tori Amos' annoying fanbase, I am working up towards full-throttle gay hot chips Torimania. Don't you worry your pretty head about it.
• I dream constantly of tacos. Delicious delicious tacos. My taco craving must be nourished by eating tacos. NOW. And not schmuck Cafe Rio, betch puh-lease.
• I have no interest in eating Oprah's chicken. Just tacos.
• I now have a great appreciation for massively, large gem sweaters.

And that's plenty for now.

Cheers.

United States of Tara

Because if you know me in real life, you know I just can't shut up about how much I love this show. Usually I don't proclaim full blown love until at least a 2nd season. But can we expect anything less from a show that has the actress that stars in my favorite movie of all time? And she plays several different characters, no less. Yes, thank you ma'am.

Not to mention, John Corbett is like the hottest thing ever on this show. F'reals. And our goblin poncho friend? HAHAHHAHAHAHA.

"Ahora con mas semen del toro!

So I admit my goal was not to post again until I could give this thing a makeover. But alas, I am lazy when it comes to blogging, and of course surprise surprise, tonight I just felt like doing it regardless--all thanks to Tori.

I love her.

No no, you see, I love her.

But I also love the fellow fans--even the ones that are a bit um, harsh on our favorite redhead. All of the little Tori jokes just crack me up. Like this one:

(skanked from @forums which I'm not a part of, just a lurker)

And another fake album cover also caused quite a stir. Of course, unless you love or had once loved Tori, you're not going to get any of it, so you might as well watch this clip instead:

Oh that Riker! Always sitting on computer consoles like they're a piece of furniture. Oh but sorry for the F word at the end. Shield ye eyes!

Btw, did I mention I can't wait to see this?

"That is one sad looking Hannah Montana."

I'll be gone for a while. But I'll come back really smart. So smart even, that every man, woman and child will love me fiercely.

And since she didn't mind that I had forwarded this to some pee-pull (and her blog is privy, so I can't linkitty-link), I am sharing something very, very special with all of you that belongs to my dear friend HAWTMama J. I want to make sure a wonderful, magical image is burned into your brain every time you visit this crap blog until my return:



You're welcome.

The Great 2008: Other Stuff, and Now I'm Done

And since I'm ready to move onto oh nine here's the last of The Great 2008 (in no particular order):

1) One Story
2) The Believer
3) Twitter
4) Lynda Barry
5) Tao Lin
6) He Tried It!
7) Otis Redding
8) FC2 Innovative Fiction Workshops

9) Church with Mona

10) Crown Burger
11) Under the Pink
12) Getting Lost In Portland and Calling People to Mapquest Me
13) Slumdog Millionaire
14) Watching Movies With My Brother
15) Werner Herzog
16) Singing Primary Songs on YouTube
17) Making the Decision to Go to Grad School
18) Blobbing
19) Nie Nie
20) Brigitte Bardot
21) Making Fun of the Original Blade Runner
22) Sidereel
23) Lots and Lots of Animal Collective
24) and I think that's good enough.
25) Sayonara!

The Great 2008: Panhandle Girl

I wanted to give a shout out to Panhandle Girl (especially since I just received some in the mail today), which was a fantastic oh eight personal discovery.

Panhandle Girl makes handmade, vegan-friendly soap and other self-indulgences. I love their little soaps so much I handed them out like candy at Christmas. The packaging is fun and flirty, and the soaps all smell sooo good (my current fave is Little Dinosaur Eucalyptus Mint -- it makes showertime minty and sudsy scrumptious). They always send a little freebie with each order (usually sassy magnets or soap samples), and once I placed two orders in a row because I had forgotten something, and they graciously combined the two orders together to save me a bit on shipping.

I'm a perma-fan.

The Great 2008: Best Surgery

The best surgery I had in oh eight was clearly my Lasik surgery. They fed me Valium and chocolate chip cookies. And I got to say farewell to both glasses and contacts after nearly 20 years together.

Runner-up surgery was the one where they took out my gallbladderess. This surgery involved anesthesia, which is a good thing, but not as enjoyable to come out of in comparison to cookies and Valium. And it took longer to recover. Still, I'm so healthy now, I can actually eat without it being painful! And I had lost 7 lbs a week after the surgery because my digestive system could start working properly again (although I highly HIGHLY recommend that you don't go hiking a couple days after surgery, no matter how great you feel... it still would have been quite the disastrous catastrophe, even if you had brought some toilet paper with you).

The Great 2008: Facebook

So yes, I was hater. This past year I converted. Yay for the book of face.

The Great 2008: Favorite Class

So this was a tie between Lance Olsen's critical theory class on the avant-garde (don't remember the exact title for the class), and Alf Seegert's class titled, "Studies in Fiction: The Virtual Reality and Its Discontents"... or it was called something like that. So yeah. If you're a student at the University of Utah, take a class from either one of them. You'll be happy you did.

My least favorite class is the one I FAILED and have to take again, which is French 2020. Oh that Lady Alesch! *shakes fist*

The Great 2008: Cadence Weapon: Afterparty Babies

Whoa, got a little behind on the whole Great 2008 thing. Whateves.

I cannot tell you how much I love this album. Some of my faves during the year would be played for some weeks at a time, take a break, and then come back for more. This album has been like my right hand man. We were rarely ever apart. So I'm kinda in love with him too, but I didn't need to tell you that.

Cadence Weapon's Myspace.

The Great 2008: Bests

Best Dancing in a Music Video: Lykke Li in Lykke Li's "I'm Good, I'm Gone"

Runner-up: Beyonce, her weird toaster glove, and her holy extension leotard cronies in Beyonce's "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)"

Best Sexy Voice in a Song: Nick Thorburn in Reefer's "Crony Island (feat. Bus Driver)"

I can't find this song anywhere on the internets, and I'm too lazy to upload it; here is Reefer's myspace, but that page doesn't have that song on it. So you're outta luck.

Runner-up: Nick Thorburn in "Creeper" (see the next video below)

Best Skinny Hipster Crush: it's a tie between Nick Thorburn and Dent May. EDIT: Although I don't think I could really snog Dent May. I would easily snog Nick Thorburn though. So really Dent May is Best Like a Little Brother Skinny Hipster Crush.

Nick Thorburn's the one that has teal wrist bands on, who you see walking into the house, and starts the fight with the weird black globby blob thing. And his head floats around in a bubble. (For some reason this video was removed from YouTube, and that totally pissed me off. Luckily Pitchfork had it still.) But oh my he's HAWT in this vid.

Yeah, that video... it leaves me somewhat speechless. But strangely enough I like it more and more the more I watch it.

Dent May of Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele won't have his album come out until February of this year, but um... it's leaked, so if you want a listen now, you could easily find it.

I've always had a soft spot for a little ukulele. And he cracks me up every time I watch this video, especially where he's sitting on the bed in his pajamas. And I want to eat a heart-shaped cookie.


Best Live Performance: Islands



Okay so I didn't go to a lot of shows this year, but even if I had, Islands most likely still would have won. Yes, my feelings for Nick Thorburn are a bit... intense. I'm working on it. But I mean just look at him, with his sexy wristbands. And who knew he was so cute -- I mean, watching clips from when he was in Unicorns, he had that gypsy post-pubescent hair that was always in his face. Either way, I'm fairly convinced of his genius.

Runner-up: Girl Talk

Best Music Video: MGMT's music video for "Time to Pretend"

They disabled embedding for the video on YouTube. Click here for a high res.

Best Movie: Let the Right One In


The second to last scene is... well, it's pretty fawesome. Gruesome, but fawesome. Just go see it.

Best Book: Not really a tie, but a sort of tie between Danielewski's House of Leaves (came out a few years back, but didn't read it until last Spring), and Bioy Casares' Invention of Morel (yeah this one came out over 60 years ago), and I will say so far Bolaño's 2666 is crazy fantastic, but right now I'm only on page 182 out of 898 pages.

Best TV Shows: Mad Men, Dexter, Battlestar Galactica, EDIT: oh and Gossip Girl!

I love all four, but in such different ways.

Runner-up: I really don't want people to know that I watch this show, because well... I won't go into that, but I have to say the last season had me crapping my pants. AND when Nancy discovers the drug/arms/human-trafficking tunnel, it was a classic moment when instead of saying the F-word, she just says, "Eff." And it holds so much more meaning.

The Great 2008: Julia Fierro/The Sackett Street Writers' Workshop

Friends, I love you and all, but some of you can't read worth crap. And by "read" I mean, give good feedback. And apparently my feedback is crappy as well -- it's another thing that you get better at the more you do it, and I hope to do it more and more, because I certainly need some improvement. (Although I haven't given most of you a chance -- like I promised -- to read my manuscript yet... someday, someday... the low-residency programs I'm applying to have a March deadline, so I've been taking my sweet time.)

So here I am, in the process of applying to Creative Writing programs, and the manuscript... oh the manuscript. She's such a bitch, let me tell you (sorry, Mom). That thing is one of the hardest things I've ever done (am doing) and yet one of the most satisfying things ever. F'reals, y'all. Of course, I haven't touched it in a week. Sometimes it's best to just step away from that monster. But I can't lie, she's a beaut. And she's becoming more and more beautiful each day all thanks to Julia Fierro at The Sackett Street Writers' Workshop. (And truly, I have not thanked Julia enough, but hopefully a big fat thank you note will be crowding her mailbox soon, because I am indebted to this woman.)

A couple months ago, I was itching for some professional creative eyes to take a looksy at the manuscript I'm planning on using for submissions to get into grad school. It's an excerpt from the novel I'm writing, and well... it's a beastly thing. I needed an experienced reader to tell me what needed to be done to make it better. I mean, I'm extremely harsh on my own work, and I can see a lot of things that need fixing, but squeaky clean eyeballs can see things I can't.

I was reading a blog all about applying to Creative Writing MFA programs, and they had some post about The Sackett Street Writers' Workshop. I clicked over, and saw that they also do manuscript consultations. I dropped an email, and received a prompt response from Julia, herself. Here's her little write-up from the website:

JULIA FIERRO, Workshop Director and Instructor of Novel-Writing and the Post-MFA Fiction-Writing Workshop, is a graduate of The Iowa Writers' Workshop, where she was a Teaching-Writing Fellow and worked with Marilynne Robinson, Frank Conroy, Ethan Canin, Chris Offutt, Lan Samantha Chang and Francine Prose. She founded The Sackett Street Writers' Workshop in 2002. She has taught Creative Writing in the Honors Program at Hofstra University and Fiction-Writing at the University of Iowa. Julia recently contributed to Naming the World: And Other Exercises for the Creative Writer (Random House), edited by Bret Anthony Johnston.

We discussed the services she offered, she gave me a price quote, and then I shot my manuscript her way. Best. feedback. ever.

First of all, she was extremely complimentary, and very encouraging. She had all these wonderful things to say, I was crapping my pants! Feeling so special! Then she gave me her suggestions. Oh her suggestions! Completely brilliant! Everything she said was dead on and very thorough. And she knows how to say it in a way so it doesn't sting. Or maybe it was just all so perfect that it couldn't hurt. It opened up a lot of different things for me, and it was also a reminder about how to give good feedback. What I paid her will probably never be enough.

So if you're applying to Creative Writing programs, or know someone who is, point them in this direction.

And now it's back to Revision City for me.

Oh, and speaking of feedback, here's an article called 10 Ways to Annoy the Hell Out of Your Writers' Group. It's also pretty dead on.

The Great 2008: of Montreal: Skeletal Lamping

It seems not too long ago I wrote a long, boring post about how of Montreal's last album was like teh best thing that had ever happened to me. And being that I don't really keep constant tabs on my fave bands (except for Tori, of course), I was so pleasantly surprised when I found out that of Montreal had a new album come out this year. I could go on and on about this, but let's just say I am in total lustness with this album. It's bloody fantastic. It has songs that I actually took the time to google the lyrics to, so I could memorize them instead of just singing along making up my own gibberish, like I usually do 79% of the time.

I will say that this album might not be for everyone, especially your mom. It's something back in the day I would have categorized as not being appropriate for Sunday. Which totally reminds me of the first guy I ever kissed. I was 17, and he was cuckcoo, but pretty hot for 1999. One time, we were kissing, and he was all like Grabby McGrabberson and stuff. Let's just say he kept trying to go for the silver medals, but I wouldn't let him. He seemed to get the hint, but then all of a sudden he just grabs the gold! Total Chester Molester-like! I pushed him away and screamed in his face, "IT'S SUNDAY, YA KNOW!" As if I would have let him do it any other day of the week. Glad that was my involuntary reaction. I guess I was really for keeping the Sabbath holy, y'all.

So I never saw him again (thankfully -- although I did find him on Myspace, and he's been divorced like 3 times already... it's what you get for breaking the Sabbath like that), and then later someone he worked with told me that she heard him bragging about how he would videotape girls without their knowledge. I really really really hope he recorded the whole "It's Sunday, Ya Know" moment, because that was the same night I forgot that I had gum in my mouth until after it was no longer in my mouth, and it had found its way stuck to the back of his neck. Classic! That really pissed him off. Oh and I was wearing pajamas I had made in my Home Ec class in high school, yellow with little blue stars. Sorry for the trip down memory lane (and more apologizes to those who just recently heard me tell this story).

of Montreal's myspace.

So yeah. If you haven't memorized the words to the following song yet, you should do it so we can sing it together... on a Monday, maybe?

p.s. broke my heart when I heard that I missed their last Salt Lake show. Apparently they had a horse on stage with them. A horse! Giddyup.

The Great 2008: North and South

Well hello, Mr. Thornton. Have you stopped by to be my boyfriend?

And here I thought I was over that mid-19th century romance crap. It's true I have a soft spot in my heart for Colin Firth, but it's such the Mormon girl stereotype to sit at home with a bunch of other Mormon girls, and watch Pride and Prejudice, eat ice cream, and talk about how if only you could find your Mr. Darcy (I mean, there was even a Mormon version of Pride and Prejudice: it's awful, and I'm embarrassed to say that I watched it so I know it's awful -- but in my defense it was a roommate who had rented it, and this was the same roommate who liked to watch Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen movies, like this one -- although if you starred in the Mormon Pride and Prejudice, and I actually know you, I'm sure you were just great in it... no really). Austen's great, it's fine and wonderful, but sometime you're going to have to come back to reality and like, do your own laundry. And you know, where's the bathroom in Pride and Prejudice? Because, I'm sure Elizabeth Bennett had to poop sometimes. Also, girlfriend? There just aren't enough Mr. Darcys to go around. Someone's going to have to end up with a Bingley, who's pretty average for the most part. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but... yeah.

Oh but North and South, you have awakened my former 19 year old self, who probably thought it would be cool to wear a corset. Like all the time. I'm so glad I decided to watch you this year. I think I might even have to own you, and that's saying a lot since I only own probably 10 DVDs. What can I say, I'm a renter.

The Great 2008: LIGHTSPEED CHAMPION: Falling Off the Lavender Bridge

Like you didn't see this one coming.

Lightspeed Champion on myspace.

The Great 2008: DEPLIN

Nothing like promoting a pharmaceutical as one of my favorite things of 2008! Go me!

Last year, I went pretty much bat sh*t crazy (sorry for the pseudo swearing, Mom). It's true, I was nutso, and close to being dunzo, but luckily I got back on some much needed brain meds. Nothing like a chemical imbalance to make a woman look sexy. Anyway, so back on the happy pills I went. The happy pills kicked in, and suddenly things weren't so grim, and my brain was working better. Even so, I still wasn't feeling too great over all; however by that point, I was beginning to believe that was just what "normal" felt like, and how I shouldn't expect any better.

A few months later, I saw the gyno lady. She did her usual five minute poke and prod, and then said, hey try this, and there she was back out the door, leaving me cold and alone with nothing but a scratchy sheet. And a little white and orange box. Inside the box there were blister packs of blue little pills. I didn't start taking them right away because a) the gyno lady is always a bit drug happy, and this could just be another one of her Rx kicks, and b) it seemed it was just like some sort of vitamin, so what's the big deal?

Apparently Deplin helps antidepressants work better. A lot better. In fact, whoa am I on crack now? No, I'm just in love with life! Woot!

A lot of people think I'm crazy for advertising my battle with mental illness. Well I am crazy -- crazy about being healthy and happy and yeeha, and this shouldn't be some dirty little secret to feel ashamed of. I try to tell as many people I know about Deplin; it has made a huge difference in my life. I think there are other kinds of antidepressant helpers, so if you or anyone you know and love is kinda wah wah about their antidepressant, spread the Deplin love so they can consult with their doctor about what kinds of options are out there.

Undoubtedly, I'll be on the brain meds for the rest of my life. But I'm okay with that, because now they actually work. Go here to learn more about Deplin and to see pictures of people looking all depressed, and then whoa, they're all like, happy.

The Great 2008

It's that time of year where RC Cola will reflect on what she's enjoyed most about 2008. Last year, I did a Top 25 Albums of 2007 countdown; this year, I'm going to make it more intimate. OooOOooh.

I will be sharing my top favorite albums for my personal year of 2008, what I listened to and loved the most, regardless of what year an album was released.

I will also be telling you about other faves of 2008, and since no one else in Blogdom ever reflects at the end of the year, won't this be so exciting? I'm the only one who does this kind of thing, so be grateful that I'm sharing.


How bout we start off with what I've been listening to on repeat for the last 3 days (only feeding my anticipation for their new album):

Okay. Um, okay. Okay. Okay.

Have you been watching Dexter??!


Baaaah!


I'm crapping my pants, y'all! BEST. SHOW. EVER. But next week's episode???! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

It's Alien Jazz Hands!

I made the mistake of drinking a rogue Dr. Pepper I found in my fridge at quite the late hour. I'm very caffeine sensitive... regrets from the first swig.

So I'm wide awake, and watching YouTube clips about the Alien franchise. And although I can't support the whole Alien vs. Predator thing, this clip warmed my Ripley heart.



No further confirmation needed to prove my nerdery.

Look you guys, it's another blog post... about me!

Ever feel like blogging, but really you have too much to say?

Yeah. Feeling that. Part of me doesn't trust myself either; I'm going into stealth mode, and it's more satisfying keeping my mouth shut.

I'm hoping to get a lot of things done this week. So if you're still waiting for me to reply to your email(s), don't give up on me yet. I'm adding that to my list of goals.

I'm starting to think up some of my year-end lists, so December should be quite the blogathon.

Which reminds me: I've decided that next year is going to be the best year of my life. So far, it's looking pretty good.

But right now it's: salt and vinegar potato chips; late night haircuts; having crushes on silly, unattainable boys; tardy birthday presents; suffering GRE denial; improving my life with Twitter; dreaming of sushi; making "Waitress" a daily anthem; commenting on photos I'm tagged in on Facebook; poaching internet in my bedroom; googling Belle & Sebastian lyrics; avoiding the dishes; knee-high socks with sparkly flats; rolling eyes at sports analogies given over the pulpit; hanging out with a pit bull named Diego; thinking about throwing a Christmas party; changing my mind about throwing a Christmas party; being told I look like Chuck; wishing I had Chuck's wardrobe; getting all sorts of awesome in yoga class; bored with politics; excited about Twilight jokes; taking drives to Tremonton to visit a good friend; gearing up for Young Me/Now Me photo sessions; praying for family and friends; late hours at the library; practicing punctuality at both work AND church; pie and more pie; making new friends; putting a tin can in your butt with Kristina; shocked at how great my life is; engaged in the resurrection of hotness; wondering if it's still possible to buy whiteout; "working" on my manuscript... and I can't help myself, friends... I have to say the manuscript... the manuscript is on the road to awesome.

In love with life.

"Tyler, you could be the voice of Knight Rider... the film."

1) Baby girl turns two today.

Can't wait until Christmas to kiss that little face.

2) Making some serious progress on the manuscript. All of you who were promised a read will have a copy in your grubby hands soon. And by soon, I mean before December. Hopefully this week, but I know myself too well to make such promises.

3) "Arrrgh! It's driving me nuts!"

4) So Empire of the Sun is my new fave band of the moment; yes, I've decided I love it:

Who Is It?

Hey y'all. I hit repeat this Halloween and found myself Björking again. Because I'm just that cool. Massive props to my mom though, with her mad swan dress skills.

The best was walking by a befuddled someone, and then about ten seconds later they shouted back at me, "Oh! It's Björk!"



Yes, kids. It pays to keep up on your Björk fashion history.

Next year? Bells?

Lulu

That adorable little stinker on the right is going to turn two years old in a couple weeks. And it just seems like yesterday when she was born on my parents' living room floor.