September 02, 2006

Lisa: good intentions

The plan after the marathon was to keep running three times a week to maintain my conditioning and avoid reverting into a complete heifer. The plan has failed.


Use the elliptical trainer already IN MY BASEMENT to exercise 45 minutes a day, four times per week. That's one episode of Alias. Manageable, right? Plus, no waking up super early to drive somewhere and run in the blistering heat/freezing cold.

I'm hoping that posting this resolution on the Internet will obligate me to follow through somehow. That worked great for the marathon and arguably the diet, but no so much for the schedule. I think I went too far with the schedule, though. I was being too bossy and was forced to rebel against myself. Besides, I want to settle gently and organically into a pleasing and comfortable routine, not join the damn Marines.

ANYHOW, I would love to hear your self-motivation ideas. Pass them along in the comments.

September 04, 2006

Lisa: Just another priceless work of art/In his gallery

This weekend Blake's parents cleaned out their storage shed, and Blake got to bring home a bunch of his old toys, including a fairly impressive collection of Battle Beasts...

and M.U.S.C.L.E. men.

I'm not sure what he's going to do with them now. Perhaps reenact Shakespeare plays or Austen novels?

September 05, 2006

Lisa: Labor Day (It's a Holiday)

Sarah, Marci, Mallory, and I spent most of the lovely Labor Day holiday shopping. I promised Marci I wouldn't post the picture of her holding up a giant pair of tummy control panties, but I'm sure she won't mind if I post this super cute picture of her at lunch instead, right?

Isn't Marci the cutest? Don't you want to date her? I know I do. Here I am with Sarah:

I promised Sarah I would crop out any evidence that the camera flash rendered her shirt transparent in this one. Plus, seriously? Stop trying to ogle my sister's breasts. It's creeping me out.

But enough lunch. There were shoes to be salivated over!

Thanks, ladies! You're the most fabulous friends a girl could have.

September 06, 2006

Lisa: Heigl's Dialectic

The newly bloggerific Mindy brought to my attention the fact that Katherine Heigl grew up LDS. How did I not know this? It isn't mentioned in her rather extensive IMDB bio (which does happen to mention that she dated Joey Lawrence), so perhaps I can be excused. As Sarah so insightfully asked, WHY ARE WE NOT FRIENDS WITH HER YET?

Sarah: What Not to Do

Today on Two Loose Teeth, I am offering priceless dating tips for guys, totally free of charge. Your future dates will thank you. And now, without further ado, a list of behaviors that I or my friends have experienced to avoid while on dates, especially at the beginning of a courtship:

Do Not:

  • Take me to an overlook spot frequented by high school students hoping to park and make out. It's not going to happen.

  • Joke about how your drink/meal is too expensive. It makes me feel like my drink/meal is too expensive, so your insistence that you pay just makes the entire situation awkward.

  • Repeatedly express that you think your "drink tastes like bile." No one wants to be dating the whiney guy that talks about bile. The same goes for being rude to the waitress or complaining excessively about the food. We all want a pleasant dining experience, but you're starting to ruin mine. Toughen up.

  • Honk or call me on the phone when you arrive to pick me up. Park, get out of the car, and greet me at the door. You will be rewarded.

  • Talk about other girls on our date. Dude, seriously.

  • Talk bad about guys I've dated. Yes, maybe they were jerks. Maybe they were a waste of time. Still, that is for me to decide, and me to say. When you tell me how lame they were, you're telling me that I have bad taste or make poor decisions. The idea is to make me feel better, not worse.

  • Bring up how much money you have/how nice your car is/how expensive your cologne is/the high end brands of clothing you prefer. Especially don't hand me a check to give to your sister, just so I can see that $300 is just pocket change to you. I'm not impressed.

  • Obviously cross the line between flattery and dishonesty. You think I'm cute? Nice. Pretty? How kind of you. Hotter than Kate Beckinsale? Now you're just lying.

  • Refer to "us" or being together or working through problems, or something along those lines before we've even gone on a date. Yes, it's true: girls can get freaked out by too much commitment too soon just as easily as guys.

  • Maybe this is a personal thing (ladies, please let me know if I'm weird), but I will not shop with you or try on clothes or accept gifts that I wear from someone I'm not dating somewhat seriously. We don't know each other. I'm not letting you help me pick out clothes. It's weird.

  • Be a stingy tipper at the restaurant.

  • Hump my leg when you ask me to dance. That is not dancing.

  • Force me to make decisions. This is another personal one. I hate making decisions on dates that were your idea. No, really.
  • September 09, 2006

    Lisa: It's 11:30 and the club is jumpin, jumpin

    The girls and I got dressed up and went dancing last night. Aren't my friends pretty?

    Sarah was looking so sultry, I had to encourage her and Mal to go for the fake makeout. Luckily, Sarah's enormous hair disguises the fakeness, so everybody wins!

    Photographic proof to the contrary, Sarah was not drunk.

    See, here she is looking perfectly normal!

    Here I am with the lovely Marci...

    After a regrettable accidental car-flirting incident, we made it downtown. I tried to take some pictures inside the club with my phone, but fortunately for everyone, they turned out dark and blurry. You'll just have to take my word for it: a booty-shaking good time was had by all.

    September 11, 2006

    Sarah: Pretty Plug

    I've written before of my love affair with my computer. This constant companionship, however, has taken its toll, mostly on little Powerbook's power cord. One part broke when my mom tripped over the cord (It was my fault. I had the cord extended across a doorway. Very foolish.), another after continued strain. The final straw, however, was when my computer may have slipped off of my couch (oops! I'm sorry computer!) and landed squarely on the small part of the power cord that connects to the computer. The result was not pretty.

    These pictures were taken after I tried to straighten the metal with needlenose pliers. Both the computer and myself were too traumatized to photograph the carnage before my attempted rescue. Obviously, the smooth circle of metal was damaged. I winced in pain when I tried to unite the plug with Powerbook. I ordered a replacement that day.

    Luckily for me, UPS Ground only took 2 days to deliver my new power cord.


    This story has a happy ending. Powerbook has a new younger, hotter life partner.

    Lisa: breaking the silence

    We here at Two Loose Teeth have created a strong foundation of superficiality, bolstered by hundreds of entries completely concerned with the asinine and banal details of our own tiny little lives. When Hurricane Katrina hit, I was worried about a prediliction for the Spice Girls. Previous September 11th anniversaries were commemorated with unintentionally crude signage, Vanessa Carlton, or not at all. I shudder to think at what I have called apocalyptic in the past.

    I would like to think that I don't mention the really big things because others have already said it better, or that the shallow details I immortalize here are part of what makes me human--part of what it is to be an individual, a woman, white, twenty-something, LDS, from Utah, a U.S. citizen, whatever. That my superficiality is somehow culturally relevant or part of my identity, and something that I have to hold on to in the face of adversity or attack. I would like to think that. The truth is probably that I am just shallow.

    In the interest of having a soul, I would just like to state for the record that some things are worth remembering. So, here's to those who did say it better. And thanks also to those who work every day to make it possible for me to live in my comfortable little cocoon. When you're ready to get your mind off the serious stuff, come on over and get a good, healthy dose of the things that don't matter. There's enough here to go around.

    September 14, 2006

    Lisa: Fight! Fight! Fight!

    The Wall Street Journal Online posted an awesome article Tuesday contrasting Encyclopaedia Brittanica and Wikipedia, and featuring an email exchange between Jimmy Wales (Wikipedia founder) and Dale Hoiberg (Brittanica editor-in-chief). They each have great points, but my favorite part is when they get heated, all "I can only assume Mr. Wales is being ironic." and "Fitting words for an epitaph!" and "Sneaky? I beg to differ." If you have ever found yourself doubting the reliability of the Wikipedia model or participating in a debate over the use of traditional vs. new reference formats (and what librarian hasn't), check it out. Fine family fun!

    Lisa: Growth Industry

    Recently, a "friend" suggested that, if I really wanted to start making more money, I could become a crack whore (Thanks, Wikipedia! Think Brittanica has an article on that?). I took this kind bit of advice to heart, and have formed a new life plan (complete with easy-to-follow steps!):

    1) Become crack whore. Give sex for drugs, but then sell the drugs instead of taking them myself, thereby earning enough money to...
    2) Finance plastic surgery, allowing for...
    3) Upgrade to high class "escort," trading sex for money (cutting out that annoying "crack" middleman) and making myself available to...
    4) Find a rich but lonely businessman with a heart of gold, a la Pretty Woman and...
    5) Get him to fall madly in love with me, which shouldn't be too difficult considering we have so much in common. Of course we would...
    6) Get married, in which case I would have so much money and spare time on my hands that I would naturally...
    7) Start a foundation to help crack whores like myself get started.

    I think this plan has some real potential, don't you? Aren't friends great?

    September 15, 2006

    Lisa: Hashed

    It is always a bit disturbing to discover you've been using a phrase incorrectly for decades. The phrase I have in mind today describes the little parallel counting marks one writes, usually in groups of five with the fifth mark crossing over the other four and sort of grouping them into a pleasing, easily counted bundle. What have I been calling these marks?

    Hatch marks.

    "Hatch marks" does not exist as a phrase at all. I don't know if I just made that up, or if it's related to "hatching" (the use of fine, parallel lines drawn closely together to create the illusion of shade or texture in a drawing), or what. The phrase I was probably originally going for was "hash marks," but both the sports meaning and the mathematical one ( though both dealing with parallel lines) are a bit of a stretch. It looks like the phrase I should have been using all along is "tally marks" (there's even a little picture there to seal the deal). I guess that does make sense, what with "tallying" meaning "counting" and all. And the term "tallywhacker" is suddenly more clear.

    For extra learning power, "little counting marks" are actually called a "unary numeral system," and the five-mark bundles are referred to as a "five-bar gate." Try whipping those bad boys out at your next cocktail party.

    September 17, 2006

    Lisa: All growed up

    Congratulations to our friends Grady and Charles, who both found out they passed the Utah State Bar exam yesterday.

    We're proud of you guys!

    Lisa: somehow it's weirder than the accordion

    That, my friends, is photographic evidence that Dave's band has added a saxophone as part of their new song, Kimono and a Fan. I think I'm getting acid flashbacks to my days as a jazz band groupie. Good song, though.

    Canadians Among Us played at Kilby Court last night before Maritime (who were awesome, check them out).

    September 18, 2006

    Lisa: maybe a new pair of shoes would help

    Do you ever find yourself wanting to stomp and scream and cry a little bit, because life just isn't fair? But then, because you're a grownup, you smile and go out and do your job like everything is fine? And then maybe you realize that you ARE fine, or at least no different than you were before, except a tiny little piece of your soul might have died, but the piece is really so small that probably you wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't been looking for it? And after that, if you are feeling really maudlin, you might start wondering how big your soul used to be? Or what happens when it's completely gone?

    No? You don't? Yeah, me neither. I don't even know why I brought it up.

    September 19, 2006

    Sarah: Arr, Matey

    Today is the International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Yaaay! I mean Yaaaarrrrrr!

    [So, is this the day we watch our pirate porn? -- Lisa]

    Sarah: 6. None of the above

    Sunday night, after I had fallen asleep, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone. I had received a text message. This is an exact quote:

    (FW:)SeNd diS 2 evEryoNe aND C Wat thEy vOtE u! 1.=ghettO 2.=cute 3.=cooL 4.=i'd marRy u 5. fun

    Is this what the kids are doing these days? Sending junk mail/spam/forwards via text message? Because I am NOT DOWN.

    I would like to add: this text spammer must be punished. If you would like to inundate his myspace or phone with annoying messages (the more nonsensical capital and lowercase letters the better), let me know, and I'd be happy to provide you with the necessary information.

    Lisa: she did it!

    It looks like my role model Pamie, who inspired me to start training for my marathon, has run hers. Now why didn't I think of Maui?

    September 20, 2006

    Lisa: deal breakers

    I was just reading the comments for Heather's post on 'red flags' in dating, and it got me thinking about some of the guys I wasted my time on back in the day. One gem in particular comes to mind. Someone who I thought was worth dating just because he read interesting books. This guy...

  • told me I "could have played harder to get"

  • told me I should wear sexier clothes and more makeup

  • told me he liked tall girls (I'm 5'4"), black girls (they don't make 'em more lily white than I), and girls with glasses (I have 20-20 vision)

  • said that when he got married, he planned to tell his bride they were going on a romantic cruise for their honeymoon, but actually book them for an NFL cruise where passengers get to hobnob with pro athletes

  • planned to get married in the year 2000, purely so that it would be easier to remember how many years he'd been married
  • Believe it or not, I let him dump ME. My self-esteem was just that low. Thank goodness, I wised up and married someone who was crazy about me. I love you, Blake! And thanks for not taking me on an NFL cruise.

    September 21, 2006

    Lisa: Tool of the Week

    Even though I've had my Powerbook for years, I never took advantage of one of its handiest tools:


    Until now, that is. My awesome new phone is also equipped with Bluetooth, which means I can wirelessly browse the files (read: self-portraits) on my phone, copy them to my computer, and post them here for you fine people to see.

    See? Everybody wins.

    Lisa: size isn't everything

    Blake should know better than to ask me about upcoming library programs while I'm falling asleep.

    Lisa: I think Charlotte and the spider from Arachnophobia should have a Celebrity Deathmatch.
    Blake: But...the spider from Arachnophobia is like 100 times bigger!
    Lisa: But Charlotte is clever.
    Blake:'s just so much bigger than she is!
    Lisa: Blake. She writes words in her WEB. Haven't you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword?

    September 23, 2006

    Lisa: cuff 'em

    I am powerless against french-cuffed shirts and the links that go with them. Mighty Goods never fails to showcase cufflinks that are unusual but understated and tasteful. My latest favorite is this set of Phillips-heads. They're great for a guy who is handy but still likes to dress up, or as good-taste maven Maggie so delicately puts it, "a not-so-subtle commemorative gift for when you're ready to take this relationship to the next level."

    Actually, if you need a thoughtful gift for anyone on your list, Mighty Goods is the place to find that perfect item she never knew she always wanted.

    September 24, 2006

    Lisa: We're bringin' Buffy back

    Luckily, Sarah suggested we bring along a few props when we stopped at Crown Burger before heading to Darby's for the newly-reinstituted Buffy Night.

    If you look carefully, behind me in this picture you can see the guy who visited the men's room approximately 50 times during the course of our meal.

    September 25, 2006

    Lisa: I am the gatekeeper

    I was thinking about dressing as Pam for Halloween, but after seeing the original Ghostbusters last night for the first time, I'm thinking Zuul is the way to go. Seriously, how hot is she?

    Also, I might have fallen in love with Egon. So...I'm attracted to nerds. This is not news.

    Assignment for the internet:
    Until I looked it up just now, I was pretty sure that on the Ghostbusters cartoon, one of the team members was a gorilla. Wikipedia shows no evidence of this. Maybe there was a show on around the same time that featured a gorilla and a man wearing a khaki jumpsuit? And the gorilla and the man might have ridden down some kind of slide during the opening sequence? The first person to figure out what show that was gets a very special prize. Until then, this is going to drive me to Snorks levels of pseudo-memory-driven insanity.

    Sarah: I'll be your love suicide

    Lisa sent me my favorite text of the week (and it's only Monday!):

    The ladies who work at McDonalds are totally discussing if the lyrics to 'i'll be' are "crying shoulder" or "crying soldier."

    Now, I didn't know anyone had thought about this song since my senior year of high school (see also: Lighthouse's "Hanging By a Moment"), but I was surprised how right "crying soldier" sounded when you keep singing the lyric that way. How many other people thought this song was more military than it actually was? Apparently a lot. At least the McD ladies were smart enough to not think Edwin McCain had earnestly vowed to be your Captain Aphid and your better wetter holder.

    The more I thought about this song (class was boring today, sorry), I kept thinking that "I'll Be" was in a movie. It turns out that I was right. But I've never seen that movie! It is, however, in my Netflix Queue... I know. I'm a little ashamed. Not ashamed enough to take it off, though. Besides, people seem to love the soundtrack for this movie. And I trust pink_suga and missy_prissy13 explicitly.

    Back to the mistaken lyric, have you ever wondered what has been written about crying soldiers? Well, this poem, for one. The google image search was mostly sad.

    In conclusion, bad poetry and cheesey teen movie soundtracks? Good. Trying to make fun of crying soldiers? Bad. Soldiers are good. I am pro-soldier. They do a job I couldn't do.

    I leave you with my favorite mondegreen: Dress it up with the droppings of a lamb.

    September 26, 2006

    Sarah: Does this mean it's "Fall City"?

    Last Saturday I attended the Spring City Artists' Studio Tour as an excuse to hang out with my mom and dad.

    My parents have been working hard on their new house, and the improvements are really starting to show! Here's some before and after for comparison:

    Old roof:

    New roof:

    New roof! Shiny repaired spire! Pretty!



    Period appropriate fence! Woot!

    My parents were adorable. They let me drive the riding mower, and it was the most fun without vampire teeth I've had in a very long time.

    Unfortunately, I had so much fun that I left crazy mower lines all over the lawn. Mom fixed them.

    Action shot!

    It's like the Jazzy for gardners. In the coolest possible way.

    We also picked pears for some of my parents' artist friends.

    Obviously there is no shortage of "cute" in my gene pool.

    It looked like fall was coming to Spring City.

    One of the artists had a very pretty calico cat.

    I learned that calico cats can only be female "unless they're cross-dressing," jokes my mom. (I told you there was plenty of cute.)

    I stayed until my dad's eyes were drooping and then drove back home. It was quite a fun weekend.

    Lisa: potty mouth

    I like to focus on the hard-hitting issues. You know, those relevant, timely matters that require extensive research. The subject I have chosen for today is automatic-flush toilets. I can only assume that the automatic flush feature was intended to create a more sterile public restroom environment. I'm sure the sequence of events is supposed to go something like this:

    1. Enter bathroom stall, closing and locking the door behind you.
    2. Lower trousers and sit down firmly on the toilet seat, to avoid the seat-splattering that inevitably comes with hovering. (YEAH, I SAID IT. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.)
    3. Do your business.
    4. Stand up and reposition clothing.
    5. Exit stall without touching anything except the locking mechanism of the door, giving nary a thought to the unsightly contents of the toilet behind you, which will be effortlessly whisked away as you leave the bathroom stall.

    Unfortunately, the sequence of events I have encountered in real life often goes more like this:

    1. Enter bathroom stall, closing and locking the door behind you.
    2. Lower trousers and begin to sit down, only to hear the toilet start flushing. Jump back up in an undignified fashion to avoid getting splashed. Wait with pants down for the flushing to be over so that you can sit down. Hopefully you didn't wait too long before you decided to go.
    3. Do your business, accidentally moving slightly as you carry out normal bathroom functions, setting off the sensor that in turn activates the flush. Make a split-second decision whether to endure the possible splashing or to raise yourself off the toilet before your business is 100% complete. Repeat several times if the sensor is faulty, which it usually is.
    4. Stand up and reposition clothing. Look down at the toilet, which has apparently used up its quota of flushes and is now resting in a dormant state, ready to display its contents to the next user. Wave hand in front of sensor, to no avail. Look desperately around the plumbing apparatus at the back of the toilet for a button or lever that will manually activate the flush. If you find one, press it gingerly and proceed to step 5. If not, lift the toilet seat a few times, hoping that will somehow set off the sensor. When it doesn't, do a little dance in front of the toilet (remember, no one can see you). When the toilet doesn't respond, mime sitting down and standing back up. Glare angrily at the toilet bowl for a few seconds, then shrug when it finally flushes with no apparent impetus.
    5. Exit stall having touched not only the locking mechanism, but also the toilet seat and possibly a squishy plastic button that you know never gets cleaned.

    Am I alone? Does everyone else love automatic-flush toilets? Because I am afraid this is an instance of embracing new technology just because it is new, not because it is better.

    CNN, call me if you ever need programming ideas.

    September 27, 2006

    Sarah: Musing

    Last night I went to the Muse concert at Saltair with my brother Dave. Lisa couldn't go because she had to work, so I promised to give a very detailed account. Here we go. After I yelled during the car ride that we were late, lost, etc. (Dave was very patient and indulgent) we arrived at the venue to find a line that wrapped through the parking lot of people waiting to get inside. Here's Dave waiting in line.

    This is what Saltair looks like:

    Not quite as cool as in its heyday, but still a sort of interesting looking venue.

    After waiting in line for a while, we met up with Michelle and then got inside. The opening band hadn't started, so we took some pictures.

    The inside is basically one big rectangular room with a stage at one end and restrooms on the other. There are stairs on either side of the room that lead up to an upper level. On one side is the SaltSlick, a bar where some people went to get alcohol, others just for a better view. The other side was the VIP area, but that? is just lame. We stayed on the main floor. Dave and I ran into Mallory and her brother Mikey, but I forgot to take a picture. Believe me, they were both beautiful beyond all reason. They chilled out in the back of the hall, but Dave, Michelle, and I were just about exactly in the middle. Mallory and I texted sporadically throughout the night.

    The opening band was The Like, a group that Dave described as "exactly like the Bangles. But not as good." They are a girl group, though, and you have to respect girls that rock. Or try to rock.

    Text from Mallory: Is this the first band?
    Text from Sarah: The first we've seen.
    M: Muse better be next or I might punch a face in. Special
    S: Lol. We agree. Special

    After The Like's set, I started to get picture happy. And the crowd started to push towards the stage, so we got a little closer. Check out how close we are and see Muse take the stage after the jump!

    I took pictures of Dave and Michelle to show how close we were.


    The guy behind Michelle was a little disturbed, so I showed Tiny Sideburns the picture I'd taken to show it was of Michelle, and not him. Thus began my concert-friend-making.

    I took this picture under the premise of showing how close I was to Dave, but mostly to show you, dear reader, that there was a guy near us that looked like my high school boyfriend. A Band Member lookalike! In a ridiculous hat/earwarmer!

    I've never seen someone at a concert look so apathetic. This dude was practically falling asleep. We'll call him Drowsy McLumpyBored.

    I thought I was going to have to make out with this guy because he was completely pressed up against me. Surprisingly, after I just turned towards him and took a picture, he backed off.

    Dave and I asked if we could take this picture. Dave took the picture, and I'm chatting with the subject. We call him Wormhole Guy, because we kept seeing him pushing past us towards the stage. But we never saw him go towards the back. The only solution? There was a wormhole. As a bonus, you get a better look at Not-Band-Member's hat.

    We made friends with the two guys standing behind us, mostly because I was worried that people would feel left out if I didn't take their picture. That was probably illogical.

    Meet Ammon and Ben.

    While the stagehands were setting up for Muse, the crowd would scream everytime a someone walked onstage.

    Yay sound guy!

    Text from Sarah: There's a couple that keeps watching me. I think I might take their picture just to bug them.
    Text from Mallory: Lol punch them in the face.
    S: Definitly.

    While we waited, Dave and Michelle surfed the internet on Dave's phone.

    Michelle declared her own myspace her favorite myspace.

    Right before Muse took the stage, A tall guy stood right in front of Dave. So unfortunately, this was what he saw.

    or, if he stretched his neck he might see...

    No, he didn't know we were taking pictures of his immaculately sculpted hair.

    Then Muse took the stage! Yay! They were loud and rockin, and there was much screaming, singing, and booty-shaking by me. Much hopping up and down by others. I think we were at the perfect place in the crowd because we were not at the back, but we weren't in the jump-y, moshy part of the crowd either.

    Muse began playing "Butterflies and Hurricanes"
    Text from Sarah: It's ur favorite! I'll punch some people for u.
    Text from Mallory: Your number has been called.

    Dave took a picture with his phone and emailed it to Lisa.

    Ammon kept offering to hold my camera up higher for pictures (he was tall).
    Text from Michelle: He likes you i think.

    Muse played "Supermassive Black Hole"
    Text from Sarah: I so totally commented on ur myspace about this song.
    Text from Mallory: Hee I just told Mikey that. Just shoved someone.
    S: Good work! I think I'm being flirted with.
    M: Is he tall? Because I didn't get the memo stating that you had to be at least six feet to attend...
    S: Lol. Yeah, he got the memo. It's like the opposite of Dave's band's fan base.
    Mallory and I have joked that all of Dave's fans seem very short. They have a concert this Friday, so you can check that out, if you'd like. In contrast, Muse's concert was full of people over six feet tall. Weird.
    Today on MSN Messenger, Dave illustrated the phenomenon:

    Apparently ghosts like Muse, because there were a lot of orbs in this photo...

    Or perhaps they're just hanging out in Saltair because of the curse.

    That picture was taken during "Knights of Cydonia". The chorus lyrics were projected up on the screens in time with the music.

    I have a few more pictures from cell phones en route to my computer.

    I'm working on a video clip, which would be the first video in Two Loose Teeth Blogging History. Right now the file is too large, so I'll see what I can do.

    I couldn't leave the concert without acquiring some fabulous booty. I had planned on purchasing the shirt from their site, but it wasn't for sale at the concert. Instead, I got this red shirt. The giant circle isn't on the shirt. Just a little ghost that followed me home.

    It was fun! Hurrah! Lisa, I so wish you could have been there!

    Lisa: I'm...sorry?

    I just tried to help a charming young girl seeking to further her education.

    Baby Momma: "Do you have the GED study guide for 2006?"
    Lisa: (I look it up.) "Well, we own a few, but they're all checked out. Would you like to put one on hold?"
    BM: "I'm in kind of a hurry. Do you have 2005?"
    Lisa: (I look it up.) "Yes, but it looks like those are all checked out too. I could put one of those on hold...?"
    BM: "I have to take the GED next week."
    Lisa: (Sympathetic noise.) "They probably have some online study aids."
    BM: "I don't have a computer."
    Lisa: "Well...we do have computers here that you can use." (I point to the public computers.)
    BM: "OK." (She stares at me. She obviously doesn't like this answer.)
    Lisa: "...They might have some study guides checked in at the City Library System or at a school library."
    BM: "Like, what school?" (She smirks. Obviously I am dimwitted because if she is taking the GED that means she dropped out of school.)
    Lisa: "The University of Utah library might have study guides like that."
    BM: "I don't have a car." (She just stares at me. I am obviously supposed to fix this problem.)
    Lisa: "OK. Well...I know there are a lot of bus routes that go up to the University."
    BM: (Kind of rolls her eyes and keeps staring at me.)
    Lisa: (I stare back.)

    Baby Momma's friend rescued me by coming over and telling BM that her dad might have a study guide from last year if he hadn't sold it on Ebay yet. Otherwise I don't know how I would have gotten out of that one.

    September 28, 2006

    Lisa: Just too white and nerdy

    Blake braved the wilds of the Internet today to forward me this Weird Al video. His sacrifice was not in vain.

    It's funny because it's true. And the Donny cameo doesn't hurt, either.