Don’t ask. Tired, but I can’t sleep. (And NUMB3RS premieres tonight, so I need to stay awake—that is an incredible show, with a phenomenal cast and brilliant writing.)

OK, so here’s the thing. This is Jennifer Love Hewitt’s new show, and I’m sorry to all those who love her (Andy :P), but who thought this chick could act? I mean damn.

No acting ability people, nada. At least not in this genre. Was she good in Party of Five? I was young; I don’t freaking remember. I thought Saved by the Bell was the best show on TV.

And now the damn thing just got scary. Shit. Supernatural crap freaks me out.. watching this was such a bad plan.

And 30 minutes later…. the writing is crap. I mean absolute trite. So I don’t entirely blame the bad acting.

The coworker has a thing for Angel cards. Similar to Tarot (I think?), they have different images and words that, when properly shuffled and meditated on, are supposed to tell you what’s going on—past, present and future.

I find such things, including Tarot, palm readings, magic eight balls and horoscopes, to be nonsense, but nonetheless, it’s always entertaining when she decides… nay, demands, that I get a reading.

So after lunch, which included wine and possibly bad shrimp (she is now asleep on the floor and I am debating going to have my stomach pumped—ugh), she shuffled the cards and had me pick a number.

One of the cards that came up said I should listen to my dreams, because they’re telling me what to do.

It’s disturbing to me that the card was right on the money. I have been having intriguing dreams lately. Full resolution dreams, in damn Technicolor… the kind where you wake up and you continue whatever conversation you were having in your dreams and are freaked out that the other half of the conversation is no longer another human, but a cat. Meowing. With a strange, “WTF?” look on her whiskered face.

And I thought I was eating too many pickles before bed.

I met the single gal today. We need to have a blogmeet people, because we are good times. 🙂 Love the dog, too, sg. 🙂 And thanks for the advice. (I love that smart people read this blog and then give me smart advice.. even though I probably won’t take it.)

Anyway, on the drive home, I kept smelling woodsmoke, interspersed with sweet grass. I love fall. I love the leaves, I love the chilly air, I love drinking cocoa and I just love the smell of woodsmoke and sweet grass.

Fall is here people. Yay. 🙂

And that also means the start of the new season of TV shows… another yay. Lost was on last nice—fabulous show, excellent cast and excellent writing and the premiere was incredible. CSI premieres tonight, so I’m all psyched about that. And the OC is new today as well.

Ah, fall. Oh how I adore thee. 🙂

I adore other things too. Typically not people, but lately I’ve started to like people more. Huh. Crazy. Mainly you people ’cause you’re just damn interesting. And then this guy who’s also damn interesting.. met him because of you people and your brilliant blogs. Kinda getting attached to him, too. But I won’t bore you with the details.

Blogs are good, that’s about it. 🙂

So I am going to refrain from deleting the previous post, even though I wrote it in a fit of insanity and I really hate when I do that.

But I thought I would leave you with this awesome new song that a friend/annoying-person-i-know recommended.. it’s very indicative of how I feel lately.

Photograph, by Nickelback

Every time I say goddamn, it makes me uncomfortable. Sometimes I think that’s why I say it. Every time I pass a church, I sigh. I pass plenty on my way to work. Sometimes I think that’s why I can’t stop smoking. Every time my mom calls on Sunday I know she wants me to tell her I was at church all day, and not getting the oil changed in my car. Sometimes I think she’ll do that every week just in case. Every time I think about the future, I wonder if I’ll end up back in the church. Sometimes I think that’s why I keep running farther away.

I still listen to that music. It still makes me smile—and cry. I still miss him, and I wonder if I ever won’t. I still wake up early on Sunday. I still try not to pray, because I don’t want to be a hypocrite. And because I’m afraid there’s nothing there… and because I’m afraid there’s something there.

It would be so much easier if I just conceded. I can’t shake it. It sticks with me every damn day. It made me who I am and it’s also what I hate. But I don’t believe in it.

We have been on the same conference call since 9AM.

It’s 1230PM.. it doesn’t look like it’s stopping anytime soon.

I can’t get any other work done AND I am bored out of my mind.

Kill me.

The coworker, the single gal and I share a deep love for this show, as disturbing as it may be.

Anywho, more importantly… they showed the trailer for Rent. Which I have seen because, well, I can’t freaking wait for this movie to come out—but anyway, I really, really can’t wait now. Phenomenal musical, just damn phenomenal.

AND, the main reason I decided to mention all of this.. apparently someone is turning Memoirs of a Geisha (outstanding book) into a movie?! Where have I been? They’re showing that trailer next.

OK: Shit, it’s produced by Rob Marshall (Chicago) and stars Ziyi Zhang as Sayuri and Ken Watanabe as The Chairman.

Now, here’s the thing. If they kill this book, I will flip my lid. This book is remarkable and while yes, it’s always tough to turn a book into a movie, it has been done with some success before.

I’m all psyched now. Can’t wait to see it. 🙂

When I was a kid, I loved Kix cereal. And Lucky Charms. There’s probably five or six other brands that I loved, but those were the two that I adored the most. If you think about it, they couldn’t be more different. Kix is air popped and corn based—and that’s it. Lucky Charms is some sort of regular cereal pieces, but mainly it was all about the sugar marshmallow charms.

My sister used to go through the entire box of Lucky Charms and siphon out the marshmallows… I think that’s why I ended up sticking with the Kix most of the time.

Why am I talking about cereal, you ask? No reason. ‘Cept I woke up with my first alarm (I require a couple), and therefore had time for breakfast here at home, and I had cereal. I haven’t had cereal in ages, but about a week ago I was in the grocery store and I saw Honey Bunches of Oats. And that was way more appealing to me than Kix or Lucky Charms.

In case you wondered (which I’m sure you didn’t but you’re reading this, so shut up), Honey Bunches of Oats is grub. The best. And now my crazy cat is drinking the milk from the bottom of the bowl, so I must run.

BUT, question of the day (because you know I’m all about reader participation): What cereal do you eat? Is it different from what you ate as a kid?

So, apparently, according to Dave Barry and god-knows-who-else, today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Um, ahoy mateys?

And so, just for shits, What’s My Pirate Name?

My pirate name is:

Dirty Anne Flint

You’re the pirate everyone else wants to throw in the ocean — not to get rid of you, you understand; just to get rid of the smell. Like the rock flint, you’re hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you’re easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!

I take great offense to that. 😛

UPDATE: BTW, she is part of the god-knows-who-else bunch. 😉

When the guide on the TV tells you that one movie is on, but the channel runs a completely different one.

I hate that.

Or when a movie that I expect to have a happy ending, doesn’t.

I really hate that.

Fortunately, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is also on. Aragorn.. ahh.