Being drunk is no fun for an introverted control freak. I talk way more than I want to. I end up feeling very exposed. The next day I always wonder what people thought of what I was saying or if I was insensitive toward someone because I was too busy blabbering the night before to pay attention to how I was affecting people around me. Apparently I also become quite fixated on exactly who the hell Alec Baldwin is. There's ususally a pretty strict filter between my brain and my mouth. It seems that filter is removed when I have a few brewskies. I'm not so sure that is a good thing. I mean, come on, imagine if everyone said everything that popped into their brains. There would be a whole lot of shit out there that would have been better off not said.

So, I will be the designated driver from now on. The designated sober one. The designated person who gets to keep her filter intact.

Or maybe I should just be less of a control freak and stop worrying what people think of me.

Sequin

Sequins do not belong on clothing. Plain and simple. They do not belong on purses. They do not belong on hair accessories. They do not even belong on holiday sweaters. There are very few places where sequins do belong. And all of those places have to do with crafts made by or dress up clothing worn by children under 6.

Now, don't get me wrong. I do not hate things that sparkle. I was, in fact, called a ferret once because of always being drawn to things that sparkle. I like a nice sparkly gem. I think good beadwork on an item of clothing is quite nice. I don't even mind the occasional (and I stress occasional) rhinestone trim. I am undecided about glitter. But what would possess a person to adorn themselves or their belongings with sequins?

They are just too loud. They remind me of that episode of Captain Kangaroo where two people are sword fighting on a bridge above some dangerous-toothed animal. The victor wins by shining the other guy in the eyes with his mirror shield and causing him to lose his balance and fall off the bridge. They make me want to shield my eyes.

Maybe it's just leftover frustration from not being able to get the damn sequin to stick to my picture no matter how much glue I used when I was 4. Maybe it brings back bad memories of the sequin-adorned teacher who made us attempt dance salsa in high school spanish class as an excuse to bring her husband to demonstrate how sexy it could be. I don't know what it is, but sequins should not be considered clothing.

So, sorry to anyone who's been trying to leave comments for the past week. Apparently I had comment moderation on without knowing it.

Caps and lower case letters

After thinking to myself, "There should be a button on my computer to change text that has already been typed to all capitals, or if I have left the caps lock on accidentally, from all caps to lower case letter." Now I had no idea there was such an option on my computer, but was pleasantly surprised that someone else had thought the same thing and deemed it important enough to put that option in Microsoft Word.

Yay for people whose job it is to make my life easier!!!

Just so you know, this is what happens if you rub emu oil on your face.

Insano Suburbanite drivers

Snow does something to suburbanite drivers that it doesn't do to city, small town or country drivers, or at least not to the same extent. City drivers drive the same speed in the snow. So do country drivers, only with the four wheel drive on the truck turned on and the possible addition of snow chains. Small town folks slow down about 10 miles per hour, but at least they're not freaking out.

In the suburbs, people drive very fast, almost smash into other cars/posts/trees then slow down almost to a stop, gain their composure and speed up again to the previous dangerous speed.

Yellow lights lose all meaning and green and red lose a lot of theirs.

Here's what went through the mind of one driver moments before his frond end was smashed by another angry driver, "Oh, what are those flashing red lights 2 blocks up ahead? And what are those things across the road that looks like a giant straight candy canes? Oh, what's that? A train? Does that change the rules about what I am supposed to do at this red light? Maybe I should stop on this side of the nifty fat little white line when it is green and then when the light turns red again inch my way out into the middle of the intersection because the big candy canes are being raised up into the air. That must mean it's my turn, right?"

On a side note, where could you possibly be going in Wheaton that you find it necessary to go over the train tracks at a speed that causes your front wheels to leave the ground?

I am so comfy.

I'm wearing slippers at work today. After putting on my boots this morning to go out and remove snow from the car for 10 minutes, changing into shoes just seemed like a little more than I wanted to handle today. So, I'm sitting with my feet hidden under my desk feeling like I'm getting away with something even though no one would care that I'm not wearing shoes. And I'm drinking piping hot coffee.

I am so warm and it is so cold outside. I have won!!!

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe hits pop culture

I've been on a Narnia kick recently with all the press the upcoming movie release has gotten. Well, I've been on a Narnia kick for my whole life minus three years, but I'm reading the books again now. It seems like something to do the books that were such a part of me as a child has been appearing on every magazine cover and newspaper and even on tv. The Lord of the Rings movies were quite exciting for me, but I read those books at an older age, though I had seen the trippy 70's cartoon version of The Hobbit when I was a youngling.

The Chronicles of Narnia were the first "chapter books" I read in my clubhouse (a sewing cupboard put to better use). I've probably read the books five times and I've seen the old BBC movies more than that. Sadly, those particular movies made someone I know think Mr. Tumnus was a pedophile. How sad. I love the animal characters, the sense of wonder and the multiple layers of depth of the story in these books. Like any good children's book, there is a fascinating story for a child, but a depth that is only understood when it is read again at a slightly older age or by an adult reading to a child. It's great how a fictional story can help you understand truth that would otherwise be incomprehensible. Or maybe it just drives that truth home both in your brain and your heart. Anyway, I am excited to go to the movies this Friday and to finish the rest of the series of books again before then.

I just hope the director is as fanatical about this story as Peter Jackson was about Lord of the Rings. A movie can never live up to a good book, but the closer it gets, the happier I'll be about it. If there are good actors for the parts of Lucy and Aslan, the movie will have passed my first critique. A less creepy faun might be nice for my friend, too.

Maybe Disney will stick with what it's good at...taking a good story and producing it well for the screen instead of writing their own abominable ones.

What is so fascinating about vampires?

What is is that's so fascinating about vampires? They're monsters, but they're almost human, and they used to be human. They're powerful. They are all but immortal. They are creatures of darkness, confined by a cage of daylight. They take someone else's source of life as their own. They are ultimately selfish and soulless, and they do everything for their own pleasure. If someone else benefits from their actions, it is because it benefits them also... Maybe it's because they're so close to being human, but they're not quite. They're a twisted version. What humans would be were they completely evil. They have human appetites outside of the bounds of morality.

Or maybe they're simply scary monsters. I would just like to see a more complex reason for why I love shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel and the notoriously awful movie Van Helsing.