The worst thing about having company is 1) I have nothing interesting to write about and 2) I don’t really have time anyway.

Beach, a little shopping, lots of Project Runway, lol, and not much else.

Tonight we’re partying at a geodesic dome, complete with potato gun, lots of pot being smoked and vast quantities of alcohol.

You know, the everyday stuff.

Edited to add: Also, go watch this video on the NYTimes website. It’s funny.

Hi, I am bored and the ONLY ONE working from anyone at my office, which is BS.

So I’m having fun. 😀

85% Geek
So I am taking quizzes.

And I have retained some knowledge of science, amazingly.

Whaa…? I should’ve at least got a PG-13 rating. They only noted bitch and crappy (really?), and missed all the good bits.

Note: when making banana bread (or anything sweet for that matter), pay attention when you set your ingredients on the counter.

And maybe don’t make baked goods when you’re tired.

Because Liquid Smoke instead of vanilla is not something you can take back.

Trust me. Your delicious treat will not be delicious, nor a treat.

And it’s very, very sad.

On Wednesday the Porkchop’s sister arrives, friend in tow, to spend a few days with us.

This meant, of course, that this weekend was comprised of lots of cleaning, a moderate amount of fretting and the moving of a futon. A large futon. A giant-mother-fucking-heavy-ass-futon that was too long for my Jeep but I insisted it was fine.

It was only six miles, after all, and on back roads. So the Chop and I loaded up our friend’s futon, and precariously drove home, the back door swinging open, the Chop holding the armrest to keep it in the car whilst simulataneously telling me that a) his arm was dislocating and b) why didn’t I tell him this was my plan?

To which I replied, “Well I told you it was seven feet long, what did you think I was going to do?”

I thought you had a plan!

“Dear, do I ever have a plan? This, this was my plan. We drive home with the back door open.”

THAT IS NOT A PLAN. If you’d have told me, I would have brought bungee cords.

“We don’t have any.”

We would have gone and purchased some.

“Eh, that’s too much work. See, we’re almost home, no problem!”

It was a fun morning. Now he’s passed out on the couch and I’m making banana bread. Party central over here. 😉

Last night, after everybody was in their respective bedtime locations (crate, basket, end of bed and bed), Regina started barking. Loudly. I rolled over, said shush, and noticed that the porch light had come on (it’s motion activated).

And for some reason, possibly because I had been watching a Law & Order marathon, that scared me to death.

Normally Reggie doesn’t bark, so several loud, shrill and pointed barks at the door is highly unusual.

And the Chop has been in NYC since Sunday.

So I opened her crate and systematically went to every window in the house, in the dark, to shut and lock them. Then, since our French doors seem awfully easy to break into (at least to me), I pushed a heavy cabinet in front of it.

I put Reggie back in her crate, but moved it closer to the bed and decided to sleep on his side (next to her), turned on the AC in the bedroom and tried to will myself to sleep.

Five minutes later I retrieved one of the military knives my father gave me for protection and slipped it under my pillow.

This morning I felt like an idiot, but the truth is, I felt incredibly vulnerable. We live on a very quiet street, and our house is up a little hill, set apart with woods and a stream behind it and I don’t honestly know how well our neighbors could hear me if I started screaming. (Some of them are old, lol.)

Before I met the Chop I lived quite easily alone (however it was on the second floor, with people above and below, and the doors had several locks apiece), and part of me wonders if I’ve gotten less of an independent-take-on-the-world-bring-it attitude since we moved in together.

And I don’t particularly like it, lol. So, independent women who previously lived alone but are now living in sin/married, did we change or is it dependent on perceived safety (locks, second floor, etc.)?

Need to waste some time? Go here. Have fun.

Earlier today I ran across an article that detailed danah boyd’s ethnographic research into Facebook and MySpace, but I don’t remember where. Maybe Boston.com?

Fortunately, one my favorite bloggers (who I just recently found and who is an incredibly entertaining writer), Accordion Guy went to her presentation at Harvard and blogged about it on his other site, Global Nerdy.

The most interesting bit in my opinion? Her research concluded, among other things, “that there is a sharp divide between the MySpace and Facebook cultures: Facebook is working class and subculture, which Facebook is upper-middle-class and college-bound…. Note that the U.S. military is banning the use of MySpace, but not Facebook. They’re banning what the soldiers are using, not what the officers are using.”

MyEvilSpace is loud and garish and cluttered, while Facebook is clean, simple and has Google-type ads.

Her research is really fascinating and I’d say dead on. I hate MySpace because it is just ugly, but I am ambivalent toward Facebook. Actually, when I was in college I even got a page on it, simply to look at my friend’s pages.

I had a slew of spam comments that showed up in my email this morning, so dutifully I opened the blog and started deleting.

Then I realized I haven’t posted in a week, which of course makes me a very bad blogger. I would sit here and say, “Oh, I’ve been busy, work’s been a bitch, the dog and bf are taking up my time, yada, yada,” but the truth is, I kinda forgot. And then I realized (on Wednesday) that I had nothing interesting to share.

Which sucks, because it’s now Sunday and I still have nothing interesting.

Last week was the first day we picked up from our farm share, and the dog there tried to hump Reggie, who was not very impressed. I never realized that iceberg lettuce had lots of curly green leaves surrounding the pale green, compact part you get in the supermarket. I’m assuming they take them off when they are washed, but I dunno.

We were supposed to leave for vacation with the Porkchop’s family yesterday, but his work is evil and so we had to cancel. Now he’s leaving today for NYC through Wednesday, and he’s not very happy about it.

My homepage, when I turn on a browser, is Boston.com, and this morning, I briefly scoured the front page, searching for something exciting to share.

Prince William and his former girlfriend are probably back together.. eh, not that exciting. It’d be more entertaining if he was dating Britney or Lohan, or someone equally troubled.

Part 1 of a 7-part series, “The Making of Mitt Romney”? Upon further inspection, it appears the writer has been paid by the Romneys to a) fawn all over him, b) fawn all over Mormonism and c) annoy me. Hello, how is this journalism?!

And then of course, there is this little gem… say hello to the Ugliest Dog in the World. And no, I’m not kidding.

Father’s Day for me consisted of 1) IKEA for three hours with J, 2) BBQ at J’s parents (where her dad proceeded to perfectly Dog Whisperer Reggie and it was ridiculous, lol) and 3) go fishing… for the first time… and catch five fish.

😀

Apparently I am never invited to go fishing again, seeing as how J and her dad only caught one fish apiece. 😉

The best part?

Coming home to find that the Porkchop and J’s sugar had finished putting together our new furniture pieces from IKEA.

Being in love means you never have to put together furniture again. And it’s awesome.

Fishes, in order of catching.. (by the last one, J was not interested in taking pictures anymore, LOL).

One of the best parts of our little jaunt to the Cape was that Regina could frolic on the beach and wear herself out.

One of the not-the-best, but still OK parts, was that we had to take her with us everywhere. (Information I did not have prior to renting this place.) This was irritating simply because we had her crate and she would’ve been fine for a couple of hours… but fortunately, Ptown is incredibly dog-friendly, and not only did we wear her out on the beach, we wore her out walking around town.

And she met dozens of new friends, had biscuits fed to her by the handful and praise lavished upon her goofy little head. In short, they all loved her and she them.

Readjusting to reality has been tough, to say the least.

This was on our last morning, when we were leaving.
She was bound and determined to go back to the beach.

Oh, also, does anyone have any good recommendations for futon matresses? We don’t have the space for a full bed in the second room (hi, bookshelves and cd racks galore), and we don’t want a crappy futon that everyone will despise.