Maxin' and relaxin'

Okay, seriously, I do have interesting things to blog about, I swear-- but as the result of a super-busy whirlwind weekend of fun (Congratulations, Karin and Ryan!), I just need to spend a night or two relaxing (and finishing a library book that is dangerously close to being overdue). I do hereby solemnly swear that I will be back blogging like a maniac within 48 hours, so please don't abandon The Unwilling Adult as being comatose.

In the meantime, here are some quick tidbits to tide you over until I can get to the real shiznit:

1. The dentist? I have to go back. And have all eight fillings redone, as the first doctor did them totally wrong. I also have to rinse with a truly heinous fluoride mouthwash that has the aftertaste of vanilla, mint, and sweet barbeque. More on this later.

2. I have an insanely large zit on the side of my head-- roughly the size of a baby's eyeball. I'm thinking that soon it might develop cognizance and start vying for control of my brain. Pictures to come? If you dare gaze upon its horror.

3. Megan and Matt were here this weekend for Karin's wedding, and we went to the zoo and saw the cutest orangutans ever. When my strength has returned, killer orangutan YouTube footage.

4. The Bourne Identity is the first action movie I have ever seen that didn't make me want to kill myself. Discuss.

Any idea...

...why my sidebar has now migrated to the bottom of the page, making my blog most unattractive and perhaps downright amateurish? I have many new things to say-- on my horrific experience at the dentist, on why the new BNL CD, while good, could have used more "Old Apartment" and less "Helicopters"-- but I feel I cannot move forward until I have fixed the Ugly Ugliness of my blog in its current state. I've asked the Blogger people, but they have not yet responded, as "unattractive sidebar" probably does not rank very high on their list of bugs to fix in Beta.

In the meantime, I just wanted to post quick, in an effort to remain off the "comatose" list over at (Mis)Adventures. This weekend one of my close friends, Karin, is getting married, so I will be out and about in the real world (as opposed to last weekend, which I spent almost entirely in the Cyber World or the Flavor of Love World, alternately).

In further music news...

I just totally downloaded* "Sexyback" by Justin Timberlake (Ashley's latest flame), and am about fifteen seconds away from burning it to a CD so I listen to it eight hundred times in the car on the way to work tomorrow.

*Legally! Legally! From MSN Music! Just in case Metallica stumbles upon this site and wants to exact a weird revenge involving an "angry chair," whatever the fuck that is.

Barenaked Are Back

...or at least I think they are, based on the very brief listen I was able to give this CD since I purchased it a few hours ago. I have never really been one of those people who just puts music on in the background-- if I need to concentrate at all, it better be silence, and unlike most people, almost everything I do, including walking and going to the bathroom, requires an insane amount of concentration-- so I haven't had a chance to listen to the entire disc yet, let alone the ten or twelve times it takes me to fully grasp the goodness or badness of a CD. But I am confident that by the end of the work day tomorrow, I will be able to give you a definitive verdict on the quality of this CD.

But so far, it's looking good. I was vastly underwhelmed by their last CD, Everything to Everyone (which isn't saying much-- I liked "only" seven of the roughly twelve songs on the CD), and so was a little worried about this one. But it is sounding very Born on a Pirate Ship and not so second-half-of-Maroon, so I am pleased.

Also, please note that I am fully aware that it is patently uncool* to like Barenaked Ladies anymore, and that I should have stopped after college, like everyone else. (I could make a Dave Matthews Band comment here, but I won't, because all my friends are DMB fans and I don't want to get beat up.) However, those of you who refuse to acknowledge that BNL did not, in fact, peak with "One Week" are really missing out on a quality band. I won't go too far into it, as many of you are far more music savvy than I. But I defy you to call BNL a novelty band after listening to "Break Your Heart," "Jane," and "Tonight Is the Night I Fell Asleep at the Wheel."

So buy this CD. Do it. Do it or I'll break your tail lights with a lead pipe. For real.

*Also patently uncool? Gauchos, apparently. Not one of you has one opinion on the gaucho craze? Oh, God, I've totally missed it. I will never be fashion forward.

Gauchopalooza

May I just use the last five minutes of my lunch today to tell you that I wore gaucho pants to work today, and I simply cannot believe that they are letting me get away with this? The outfit I'm wearing right now (sadly, sans sassy vest, as depicted here) is more comfortable than the PJs I woke up in.

Even though I am probably far too late-- as we speak, all the thinner, prettier, more fashion-forward girls than me are setting fire to their gauchos in big oil drums, their pert noses wrinkling in disgust-- I must admit that I am now a full-on gaucho convert. Viva los gauchos!

An open letter to those with teeth

Dear Dental-Minded Americans,

You may have heard some sort of claptrap at one point or another in your lives that indicated that you should be going to the dentist every six months or so in order to maintain your dental health. I am here to tell you now that this is patently untrue, and that, in fact, going to the dentist will only make whatever dental problems you may have a bajillion times worse.

Observe: About six months ago, I decided to start going to the dentist, not because any of my teeth were particularly bothering me, but because my parents made it seem as though if I didn't go to the dentist soon, I would most likely be dead before my thirtieth birthday, as dental problems, especially undiagnosed ones, are evidently the number one killer among all age groups and races.

Over the past six months, I have gone from having what were undoubtedly unhealthy but perfectly nice and painfree teeth to having extreme sensitivity in pretty much all the teeth the dentist worked on (in one spot, so bad that I can't really chew on it, which will likely cause me to wear down the teeth on the opposite side of my mouth much faster, which will definitely end with my face being severely lopsided), a still-gaping hole where my wisdom tooth was pulled, and the sinking feeling that one of the teeth he worked on is just a millimeter larger than all the others, causing my bite to come down awkwardly.

And last night, while I was dilligently flossing, a piece of one of my teeth broke off. Just broke off. Which, I might add, was not a regular occurrence in my Pre-Dentistry days.

So now I have a hole between my front teeth where the Tooth Piece used to go, and a toothache that my aunt, who is a dental assistant, diagnosed as needing a root canal, which sounds wholly unpleasant, and one monster tooth that is bigger than all the others, and, to top it all off, my dentist keeps mailing me mysterious bills for $10, which I keep paying, because I don't know what else to do, and my dental insurance keeps mailing me even more mysterious letters claiming I had other coverage during several of the aforementioned procedures, and they want me to prove it. Which I am so not going to do.

In closing, no matter what anyone tells you-- Mr. Rogers, your parents, anyone-- do NOT go to the dentist, as it will only end in heartbreak. And toothbreak.

Hugs and kisses,

Kim

Pitfall

I just learned something terrifying-- I can no longer comment on non-beta blogs using my Blogger account! I can still comment-- I know you're all breathing a collective sigh of relief-- but only by designating myself as an "other," which makes me feel weird and very M. Night Shyamalan.

So the point of this, I guess, is that you all need to become Blogger beta right now, because it will make everything easier for me. And isn't what this whole experience is really all about?

Okay, I promise a non-Blogger beta themed post by the end of the day. So check-back, beta-lovers!

Dig!

I am so Blogger Beta right now. Please take the time to check my sweet new additions, as it took about forty minutes of sitting with a hot, hot laptop on my lap (no doubt rendering my sterile, per an article I read in Maxim magazine the other day). Also, please note that now that I have the capability, I will be updating not only my blog, but my sidebar, color scheme, and font selections at will. And giving my posts retarded tags, even though they don't need them.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am the future! Behold my shiny metallic glory!

A brave new world

After having consumed two glasses of margarita and a beer, I feel this is an excellent time to attempt to convert my blog to Blogger Beta (because obviously, a moderate buzz will definitely help me with any programming issues I may encounter along the way). So I just wanted to write this post to say that if I mess anything up, and my blog becomes unreadable, I'm really, really sorry. But the good news is, if I have to start over from scratch, I can have a blog name that is not so unintentionally porny.

Wish me luck!

Long Awkward Pose #1

Here it is-- the much anticipated Long Awkward Pose I shot of Pen and Ashley during my trip to Wilmington (inspired, I must credit, by the website of the same name). I sincerely hope that there will be many more to come (provided anyone gives me permission to blog them, or that they even consent to having their picture taken after I have pulled this stunt a few times).

It's poorly lit and hard to hear, but man, is it full of memories...

Dear Wilmingtonians,

By the time most of you read this, I will already be on my way back to Ohio, singing loudly with the radio and giving Ben the creeps (a little). But I wanted to be able to say, if only once, that I, too, blogged from Wilmington (as well as drank too much in Wilmington, bought too many things in Wilmington, and prepaid for gas for the first time ever in Wilmington).

Also, I would like to state for the record that all the above-pictured people, along with Meg and Thomas, who sadly had to leave before the group picture could be corralled, are sexy bitches.

Does it sound too Hallmark to say I miss you all already?

Ooh, um yeah, upon reading that statement, especially when left alone as its own paragraph like that, it does. So while that statement is true, let me end instead by saying that there are no people I'd rather let mock me mercilessly for leaving my purse in a gas station bathroom. Again.

Labor Day Weekend '06-- the countdown begins

Weirdly, I've been so worried about the approach of Sucknesto (now downgraded to a tropical depression-- in your face, you crap-ass storm!) delaying my vacation that I haven't really had time to fully grasp the fact that I am, in fact, going to be in Wilmington in less than 72 hours.

In fact, it really just hit me a few minutes ago, when I read Ashley's appeal to Ernesto to disapparate, or whatever depressions do. And now I am doing a happy dance of joy-- I am coming to Wilmington! To see many Blogger friends (actually-- I think pretty much everyone I'm going to see is a Blogger friend. Does this mean we are self-involved? I say NAY!), and walk on the river walk, and eat doughnuts and go to Sonic and drink Cheerwine!

It has also just hit me, really, that I have a shitload of things to do. So far, I have:

1. Made the perfect vacation CD
2. Sort of cleaned a little
3. Put away a whole bunch of other CDs
4. Ripped up the 1,000 credit card applications I have accrued over the last two weeks.

I have not:

1. Packed
2. Gotten maps to Charlotte or Wilmington
3. Gotten cash for tolls
4. Gotten gas
5. Actually cleaned
6. Acquired snacks for trip
7. Figured out how to work my effing video camera

Et cetera.

Now, granted, most of those things have to wait until tomorrow night anyway. But now that I have finally caught on, not unlike a dog being lured into the car with Snausages, that I am going on a trip, I want all these things to be done now, so I can begin the road trip portion of my journey, and listen to my sweet new CD, which features both "Apache" by The Sugarhill Gang and "The Lees of Old Virginia" from the soundtrack to 1776. Ben, I'm sure, will be thrilled.

For those of you still pining...

Arrested Development season 3 DVD is out today, and on sale at Target for $20.

Rest in peace, Bluths. Rest in piece.

And not to change the subject, but-- also out on DVD today and on sale at Target? Flavor of Love season 1. Why won't you buy it? It has a special feature called "The Blackucation of Pumkin." Buy it! How can you not?

Worry Wart

It's something that my mother has been saying forever, but really, I'm starting to think that I really do worry too much, and it's starting to get me down. For instance, this weekend, I worried about:

1. My impending haircut

2. The completion of a project that absolutely had to get done and in the mail by a certain time

3. An invitation I had to turn down

4. This vaguely threatening letter I got from my dental insurance people

And now, I have the haircut (and it just keeps getting sassier with each passing day!), finished the project, turned down the invitation only to be met with great understanding, and straightened out the insurance situation. One would think that I would have learned my lesson about worrying, seeing as how every single thing I worried about this weekend turned out just fine, and in some cases, actually great. But instead, I have simply shifted my worry to include:

1. The imminent distruction of my upcoming vacation to Wilmington by that hellhound, Ernesto. Curse you, Ernesto, and all your windy fury!

2. My inability to answer all the requests placed on my blog for the "all request and dedication post" (some famous fictional dinner partners I would enjoy-- the Invisible Man from Ellison's Invisible Man, Mrs. DeWinter from Rebecca-- or, better yet, Rebecca herself. Some weird foods I have eaten since grad school-- salmon, monte cristo sandwiches, mozzarella cheeseburgers)

3. The Department of Education's malfunctioning website, which will not allow me to post my student loan payment online, meaning I have to mail it in, meaning that the check will inevitably be lost, resulting in my first ever late student loan payment, and probably my deportation from the country.

Et cetera.

Honestly, there probably isn't a day that goes by that I'm not worried about something. And it's often something stupid. I once agonized for an entire day under the belief that a girl I knew hated me (which makes no sense, since I didn't do anything to make her hate me, and didn't actually even like her very much, so what did I care if she hated me?), only to be curiously vindicated when she smiled at me in passing, thus assuring me that she didn't hate me at all.

Is this normal? Do the rest of you worry this much? Has my obsessive worrying worried any of you in the past? Please confirm my general normalcy, so I don't have to worry about that, too.

And by the way-- if you want to see something worrisome, trying doing an image search on Google for the word "wart." You'll see why I went with this anxious, slightly menacing looking woman, who, if you look at her in the right light, looks a little like a red-headed Brigitte Nielsen.

Miso Sassy

Okay, this is probably not what it's going to end up looking like-- according to the stylist, my hair was so thick and heavy from having been long for such a long time, the remaining portion of my hair will have to "remember" that it's not being dragged down by the weight, and will eventually curl up even more. But first reports clearly show me as being a sexy, sexy fox.

By the way, this is The Haircut That Almost Wasn't-- I got a call this morning letting me know that my stylist had taken ill, and all other stylists were busy until next Wednesday! Knowing that it would improve the situation, I immediately began sobbing, ceasing only once a second appointment could be established at a different salon-- two hours earlier than the original one was supposed to have been. So in your face, Sick Monica! My monies went to Crystal at Francesco's (although my heart will always belong to Ladies and Gentlemen Salon and Day Spa)!

Return of the fro?

Unless anyone has any reason why I shouldn't do this, I think I'm going to go crazy-go-nuts and get my hair cut like this again. So please don't tell me not to unless you really, really, really hate it. Please.

In fact, don't even tell me. Don't say anything. Just think of this as a warning. I am totally getting my hair cut like this. Maybe even shorter. But not crazy short. But no-ponytail short! Which I haven't been in two years.

Yipe! As someone who wore their hair so short that she couldn't even put barrettes in it until she was 21, I have no idea why this is freaking me out so much. But I am totally freaked. But still totally doing it.

Lady Mix-a-Lot

Before I begin with today's request, let me just say: to Frisby, the images come from Google Images-- I highly recommend it, as it has never, NEVER failed me. And to Mendacious-- I am totally NOT avoiding your request. It just requires a bit of time to ferment...

And now, without further ado...

Two words for you-- mix tape.
--Croot

Songs That Sound Like They Came Out While I Was in Grad School, But Didn't:

1. You're Beautiful-- James Blunt
2. Bad Day-- Daniel Powter
3. Orange Sky-- Alexi Murdoch
4. I Don't Wanna Be-- Gavin DeGraw
5. Sugar, We're Going Down-- Fall Out Boy
6. Over My Head (Cable Car)-- The Fray
7. Black Horse and the Cherry Tree-- KT Tunstall
8. Bitches Ain't Shit-- Ben Folds
9. Beverly Hills-- Weezer
10. Somebody Told Me-- The Killers
11. Float On-- Modest Mouse
12. My Doorbell-- The White Stripes
13. Wake Me Up When September Ends-- Green Day
14. Kelly Clarkson-- Since U Been Gone
15. Wheels-- Cake
16. Take Your Mama-- The Scissor Sisters

Selected Liner Notes, in which I Cover My Ass, and also 'Splain Some Things:

Track 1-- I can definitely see myself, sitting on the porch swing in front of my house, vaguely crying and smoking cigarettes while watching the rain, imagining how this song really obviously was about me.

Track 3-- This song technically came out while we were in school, but no one heard of it before it was in Garden State, and also in the commercial for the really ugly SUV that looks like a milk truck.

Track 4-- Isn't this the theme to One Tree Hill? I don't think that's why I always think this song came out while I was in grad school. It just has a Wilmingtonian vibe to it.

Track 6-- We would all think this song was about us, all the time.

Track 8-- This song, not unlike "Gin and Juice" by The Gourds, would be very popular among everyone at first, but then, slowly, everyone but me would grow to hate it, while my love for it only flourished, to the point of horrifying everyone.

Tracks 10 and 11-- These songs also came out while we were in school, but so close to the end of school that they did not gain popularity until after I was already back in Ohio.

Track 16-- I would totally sing this on the way to get Hot and Fresh donuts at the Krispy Kreme.

Party time! Excellent!

If you could throw any kind of party, what theme would it be? Who would you invite, and what would you wear. Would party-goers play Pin Lucifer's Tail on Mark Harmon?

--Pen

I have never been successful at throwing parties, except for a very brief period in college in which I threw awesome ones, but I think it was because I was the only person I knew who didn't live on campus at the time. Dan and I did throw several parties at our apartment on South Fifth, including one of the Welcome Back parties, but I think it is widely believed that, of the three years my class was in school, it was probably the lamest of the welcome backs (although there was a horse cop involved, later in the evening).

So if I could throw a dream party-- what kind of party would it be?

Dang it, Pen! This is a hard one!

You know what I think I would like? I would like to throw a Post Secret party. In which each guest would be required to write down one of their secrets and mail it to me, with no return address, and I could post it on the walls of my house before they came over. Then, while we were drinking and walking around and talking, we could read each other's secrets.

Taking things a step further, we could all bring out secretly favorite food-- like how everyone says their favorite food is something fancy, like Pad Thai, but really it's macaroni and Cheez Whiz.

And maybe? You could only gain admittance to the party if you had an awesome secret. But then I would have to know who had what secret, and that wouldn't be fair. So instead, you could only come to the party if you complimented my outfit, which would secretly be from Wal-Mart (in keeping with the secretiveness of the party).

Ooh, I so want to throw this party now. Mainly because I have a deep-seeded need to know secrets! And because I like the fact that, now that we're grown up, it is customary to bring a gift for the hostess. Ahem. Just saying.

All Request and Dedication Hour

I don't know about the rest of you Bloggers, but I tend to go through cycles-- from euphoric Blog-related glee to fallow, idealess stretches of evil (often brought on by prolonged quality-checking of the company's collections system).

So, rather than go silent, I thought I'd leave the content up to you (read: make you do most of the work) for a little while-- at least until I can get back on my feet, or until something interesting happens to me, other than this mondo, all-consuming Chin hemorrhoid situation (also brought on by the collections system).

Here's the deal: you drop me a comment with any topic you want, and I promise I will write at least three sentences on it. Some restrictions apply (namely, please don't try to trick me into giving my opinions on world events, as the closest I have ever come to being a political expert was that glorious day in 1992 when I got an A on my election notebook in social studies). Please also don't make me say bad things about people. Unless they're like celebrity people, or people I don't know. Then, screw them.

You want me to write something about your cousin? Bring it. Existentialist art? It's on. These mini-blogs will not be factual, nor particularly educational, but they will be more entertaining than, say, a step-by-step analysis of Where Collections Went Wrong.

Help a sister out here. You provide the topic, I'll provide the words. It's magic time.

I am herbivorous

Just as an update, I totally ate the salad. I added some sunflower seeds and a few slivers of grilled chicken, and it was fabulous. I even passed up a trip to the much beloved Pizza Hut all-you-can-eat* buffet to enjoy it. I am so healthy, it's scary.

The best part is, having eaten such a healthy lunch, I am now free to eat a ginormous celebratory dinner this evening. With dessert. Because I earned it through matchstick carrots.

*For the longest time, I did not know that AYCE on a restaurant's sign meant "all you can eat." I thought it was some sort of weird code, or the name of a group, like the BPOE (I don't know what that stands for, either, but it seems sinister). But then I thought, why would the AYCE (which I perceived, for some reason, to be like a religious organization) eat wings at Hooters? That's when it all came together for me...