I'm updating my iPod and I just realized a glaring oversight wrt: my music library. I do not have the Beaches soundtrack! Can you help?

Rose: I know, girls. Let's make a pact that we'll always take care of each other, that we'll never desert each other, no matter what.

Blanche: You can count on me, honey.

Dorothy: Do you think it's going to be that easy getting rid of me, Rose? That was rhetorical, Rose. Ah, but what a comforting thought, knowing you'll never be alone.

Blanche: And listen, what the hell. If we do have to go to a nursing home, let's all go together!

Rose: What happens when there's only one of us left?

Sophia: Don't worry. I can take care of myself.

When you guys develop digital prints online, which service do you use? I've used Snapfish in the past, but I found them to be only so-so, and I'm hoping there's another service I'm not aware of.

Okay, can someone please tell me what happened in the last minute of this week's Grey's Anatomy? Because, despite the fact that the DVR was set to record until 10:01 and thus made me miss the first few minutes of other shows I wanted to record starting at 10:00, I STILL MISSED THE LAST FUCKING MINUTE OF THE EPISODE. Not to mention to the previews, kill me now. Thanks, DVR. Thank you huge.

There are lots of things I could update about, but will I ever? Unlikely. However, I have to mention that my car is totally paid off! I thought I had until September for my payments, but the last one was June 15. \o/

Oh, internets. Shortly after my last post, I got my second wind and bought a wrench, then went home. I fucked around with the painting a little more and put together one of the two chairs, during which time I jammed a screwdriver into my thumb (my recommendation? don't do that). I was anxious to see how the chair would look with the table, so I opened the table box and discovered...that I hadn't purchased the right table. I thought about keeping it, but it was really ugly, and I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be used outside. So what did I do? That's right, I went BACK TO IKEA FOR THE SECOND TIME TODAY. I DIDN'T LIKE THAT ASSEMBLY. I THOUGHT YOU GUYS KNEW THAT.

Anyway, at this moment, all is well. I got the right table, and now I'm back at superpana's mom's house. I really want a glass of wine, but I'm sort of too tired to move.

Ah, the weekend. superpana is out of town, so I've been oddly productive today. I'm housesitting at her mom's (they're all gone together), and I've been up since 6:30. That part, uh, wasn't in the plans, but I got up to let the dogs out and was just sort of awake. Being up at 6:30 on a Saturday is pretty lame because you can't actually DO anything. I fucked around on the internets and did a little knitting, then couldn't take it anymore and went for coffee, and then started my errands.

I got to IKEA 20 minutes before they open, people. There were a bunch of people already there waiting, actually, and they let us and our carts inside of the store, and we had to wait in line behind a velvet rope while an IKEA employee stood by, checking her watch every few minutes and making sure nobody got out of hand. It was sort of ridiculous, and sort of a weird display of consumerism that I wasn't entirely comfortable with. Then the employee unhooked the velvet rope and let us in, and I got over it.

I bought a white table and two chairs for our weird little outside "patio" area, then went to Target and Home Depot (originally typed as "Hope Depot"; fairly appropriate, no?) and purchased various necessary itema before heading to my house and painting a tiny hallway wall red. Why do I keep thinking it's fun to paint in vibrant colors, i.e. orange and red? It's fun to HAVE vibrant colors in your house, but the actual painting? Not so much. Actually, other than cleaning out the litter box, painting and assembling furniture are possibly my least-favorite household chores. And yet, this is why I set myself up for. On the bright (?) side, I am the world's worst lesbian and do not have a wrench, so no furniture was actually asembled today. I should probably go back to Hope Depot and remedy this, but I did more between the hours of 6:30 and 12:00 than I'd planned to do all day, so the furniture will have to wait. I'll have to figure something out tomorrow, though, since the painting and furniture are surprises for the Mrs., and I'd like everything to be ready when she gets home on Monday night.

Now I am sitting in superpana's mom's backyard, winding yarn into a ball and hoping I didn't make too many typos in this post; it's almost too sunny out here to see.

I CANNOT BELIEVE that no one has uploaded the new Ryan Adams record in places I can see. What the fuck is that about? I feel like the internets have failed me.

Since I woke up an hour and a half ago, I have:

• Gone to the grocery store
  
  
• Baked two dozen chocolate chip cookies (and left some dough in the fridge, just for the hell of it)
  
  
• Arranged two decorative vases for the house
  
  
• Hung a picture and a sconce
  
  

And now I'm going to knit a sock.

I seem to have accidentally deleted the Whiskeytown song, "Here's to the Rest of the World" from my computer. THIS IS NOT OKAY. Can someone please, please upload it for me?

I'm trying to plan a trip in August and the rapidly rising airfare is making me want to kill myself. So I'm wondering, what are your favorite air travel sites? Obvs I know about Orbitz and the like, but what I'm hoping to find is something new. Help?

Here's some stuff! I am drunk. throughadoor is still here, aka all is right with the world. I have to work tomorrow, which throughadoor does not because she's on vacation, and superpana does not because the school where she works is on Spring Break. I know it's sort of a dumb thing because my job is not even remotely stressful and most of the time I do little more than read Nora Roberts books at my desk and email with callmesandy, but I am in serious need of some time off. The move took way more out of me than I'd anticipated, with the packing and the painting and the moving and everything. I feel like I sound like a baby, but I seriously just need a few days where I'm just at home, wearing my pajamas all day and just not doing anything. Except I don't get vacation at work until July. To quote superpana's little brother when he starts to cry, "buh!"

I don't think I've ever talked about this before, but between episodes of America's Next Top Model, I forget about Jay Manuel. I hate him so much that I guess my brain just blocks him out. I suppose one could craft a convicing argument for why I'd forget about him week to week, but I forget about him DURING A MARATHON. Barely half an hour between appearances and I still lose all memory of him. It's appalling. And sort of nice that my brain protects me. He's awful. AWFUL. His hair is just gross. Right now he's wearing a shirt with fake boobs on it. I want to throw up. He's like a gnat raping Hagrid. "What's that? Is that a gnat back there?" That's how I feel when he shows up. I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable.

We just watched a Red Sox game and I've been knitting and throughadoor and I have consumed 1.75 liters of Jack Daniels since Friday at 10pm. \o/

In the past few days, I've had a lot of houseguests. Well, three, and actually only one of them has stayed at my house. I had the world's loveliest Australians, pene and unwinding, and we had drinks and dinner and they were the most charming ever. And now throughadoor is here, and I AM SO DRUNK. Actually, I've been drunk and almost sober already earlier, and now I am getting drunk again, which is fun, I'm not gonna lie.

throughadoor made us watch A LOT of stupid videos, and by stupid videos, I mean MCR and Panic! at the Disco and Cobra Starship. The only reason we didn't watch any Fall Out Boy is because she couldn't find any On Demand, and yes, we had to check EVERY CHANNEL. I mean, that's fine, and I used to love *NSYNC like a sick motherfucker, but I just can't handle my friends actively enjoying the same shit superpana's little sisters enjoy. Call me what you will.

Here's something, though. I made throughadoor watch that Dierks Bentley video, Long Trip Alone, and while no one actually cared when I posted about the video earlier this year, she said it's like if someone made a video just for me, and it's SO TRUE, so I feel vindicated as a human being.

ALSO, she made me this icon, which I have deemed the most fantastic Danny Bonaduce icon ever in the history of livejournal. It's been pointed out to me that it's probably the only Danny Bonaduce icon in the history of livejournal, and that's probably true, but STILL.

Proving I am nothing if not the epitome of gracefulness, I stood up from my desk yesterday afternoon, didn't realize my foot was asleep, and rolled my right ankle twice. The first time, it was just a tiny bit, and I thought I had it under control. The second time? My whole foot was sideways, with my whole weight on top of it. Plus, people saw me do it, and at the time the embarrassment was worse than the pain.

Now it hurts, sort of a lot. It woke me up twice in the night, blah blah. Anyway, the point of this story is that I was looking up my symptoms online, because that's what I do, and I've never actually sprained my ankle until now, and I found this on the utterly useless webmd:

Are you unable to free a trapped foot from an object, such as a pipe, toy, or jar?

Look, if your foot is trapped inside of an object and, instead of calling someone for help, you decide to SEE WHAT THE INTERNET SAYS? You fucking deserve to have your foot trapped inside of a pipe, toy, or jar.

Recent purchases I've made that are awesome:

1. CoverGirl VolumeExact mascara. The clump really does stop here! I was a fan of the LashExact mascara, and this one is even better. It glides on really well, doesn't flake, and holds the curl in my lashes all day. It's canonically the best mascara I've ever used.

2. Bath & Body Works Coconut Lime Verbena shampoo/conditioner. The Mrs. actually picked this out, as there is a B&BW next to the optical place we went over the weekend. My hair is really soft and shiny since using this, and the fragrance in the product lasts in my hair all day. I smell, as promised, like an island breeze.

Stealing a meme from callmesandy, slightly modified.

I have a list of 10 fictional characters I enjoy. Ask me questions like, "If #2 and #9 had a baby, what would they name it?" or whatever, and I'll answer in little snippets.

I'm watching some Top 20 Videos of the 80's thing on VH1 Classic right now, and Metallica's One is on. Scariest video ever: yay or nay?

ETA: the best canonical music video I have ever seen, also by Metallica. Is it necessary to say it's not safe for work?

Could anybody upload Christina Aguliera's Hurt for me? I haven't seen it in the usual places I download from and I have an almost complusive need to have it.

Thank you!

Things that have happened since last I posted:

* I reread Chuck Klosterman's Killing Yourself to Live and didn't realize until the end that I'd somehow mixed up this book with Tucker Max's I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, and I kept expecting Lenore to be pregnant and have ovarian cancer, and I was really confused when it didn't happen.

* My Starbucks nemesis (no, really, this guy has actually referred to me as his arch-nemesis) continues to be one of my simultaneously least/most favorite people on the planet. I hate it when he's in the store in the mornings (yesterday, I saw him and actually said "fuck" out loud), but he treats me like he can see my inner cunt and I have to appreciate that. He called me "smiley" yesterday and I wanted to hit him in the mouth. It must be love.

* We opted to have the dog's surgery on Thursday, and he seems to be okay except they didn't send any antibiotics home. I didn't call them to ask yesterday because I assumed, you know, they're the vet, they know. But he's had antibiotics for broken claws, let alone, surgery on his fucking FACE, so I finally called them this morning and it turns out we're still supposed to be giving him the eye ointment he was on prior to the surgery. Which no one actually told us. I don't know, I'm not really telling this story right, but this dog is my child, and I felt like one of those psycho Lifetime-movie mothers who no one believes when they say something's wrong, like I was in Not Without My Dachshund or something.

Chuck Klosterman would know how that feels.