Thursday, June 29, 2006

"It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" is the new "Arrested Development"

So there are approximately three people I can think of who actually watched Arrested Development religiously. One of them is me, one is Amanda, and the other one is no longer with us. Unfortunately since we were the only three loyal viewers of pretty much the funniest television series to grace the small screen, it was cancelled. A little bird told me AD might be picked up by Showtime, but it hasn't happened yet to my knowledge.

Fortunately there is hope in a show that debuted tonight on FX called It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. It appears to be a show about a brother and sister, their two mischievous friends, and all the shenanigans they get into. I'm watching it tonight and I have never laughed at people in wheelchairs, racial slurs, flaming bags of poop, and Danny DeVito so much in my life. An added bonus is that FX has managed to skirt around FCC profanity regulations because they definitely say "shit", and they use it abundantly (I'm easily amused). Of course you already know about the "S Bomb" if you watch another one of my favorite shows on FX, Rescue Me. Must have something to do with Safe Harbor shizz (I'm trying to think back to the late Dr. Pasternack's Media Law class with Maud, but even though we both got As, I can't remember all that garbage).

Try not to think I'm callous about the wheelchair thing. You'd have to watch it to fathom the hilarity. It has to do with running over your best friend with your SUV, strippers, and faking polio for sympathy at a shopping mall (followed by a wheelchair duel in said mall). I love it. They also do a MAD redintion of Extreme's "More Than Words".

If you're not sold at this juncture, our senses of humor are obviously disparate, and for that there is no remedy. For those lackluster individuals, I recommend reruns of Friends (which, relatedly, IASP mocked the "fountain" scene in one of their show promos... cops are involved and I couldn't be happier!).

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Countdown to D-Town

If you couldn't tell by my sermons on my trips to Dallas, I was impressed with the city and everything that comes with living in a ginormous metroplex. In Ruidoso, I can't overnight a package from the Post Office (I know this because I needed to overnight my final paper for my last class at Tech and they were unable to process my request). I can't go out to eat because I know that besides the restaurant I work at, everything sucks and will not only probably make me sick, but is most likely to have body hair of some sort in it. If I want something dry cleaned, I need to be prepared to wait at least a week to get it back, and that's for one item.

Well, my helpmate Jeff (not to be confused with the famed Colonel McAdoo), has been trying to escape the wiles of Ruidoso ever since I met him in 2003. After returning from my first excursion to Dallas, I suggested that Dallas would be a great place to escape (read: move) to. He initially scoffed at my suggestion, claiming the Spurs were going to win the NBA championship, and that meant he'd be moving to Austin, since he made a deal with himself, equating where he would move to who was the best in professional basketball. Well, shortly after I returned the first time, Dallas booted the Spurs, so Austin was out. I immediately text him, saying he was going to have to move to Dallas, but he also had Hawaii in mind, should any team from a shitty city win, like the Pistons. I explained in simple terms that he was far too pretentious to attempt to live as a surf bum in Hawaii. He agreed and started looking for an apartment in Dallas. And yes, this was just an opportunity to post a gratuitous picture of Dirk and his hair.

We had some stipulations for the apartment. On his friends' suggestion, we looked in Uptown. I had to be able to take my doggie, Willie, because he's cool and doesn't like having to wait a month to get groomed in the Dizzle. The apartment had to have two separate bathrooms, and bedrooms on opposite sides of the space, for obvious reasons... when Jeff brings the ladies home, I really don't need or want to hear what's going on over there. You know, which video game they're playing or whatever.

So I think one day while Jeffrey was at work, I narrowed the search down and he picked Post Square. Selling points: Dry cleaners in the ground floor of the building, along with a smoothie shop, and a Starbucks. I guess I need to start drinking coffee again because I can't live three floors above a Starbucks and not spend half of my money there on fancy, caffeinated drinks. I'm going to be like Tweek on South Park... anyways, here's a pic:

Here's another of what I understood to be the main entrance when I saw it:

Here's the floorplan, if anyone's interested:

Tentative move-in date is July 22, although I'd love to move in sooner. I'm sort of going between just getting the eff out of here on the 21st, taking the fam for a weekend in Dallas (full of fun-filled activities like moving furniture and extended periods of time in a vehicle together), OR working that last weekend and then moving Sunday or Monday (still with the fam, of course). I'm leaning more towards just leaving ASAP...

No, I dont have a job yet. Yes, I am looking. And I tried to put one of those cool countdowns on here, but none of them would work. :o(

Friday, June 16, 2006

These are a few of my favorite things...

Out of sheer boredom comes a comprehensive list of things I highly enjoy and loathe presently. Not to worry, it does not include raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens. Or warm woolen mittens for that matter.

In television I love:

Fuse. If you don't have it, get it. Unless you're gay and you still watch all that crap on MTV. Those of you who know me, know how I feel about MTV. It can go to hell and die.

The 4400. I watched it religiously on Amanda's TV in Lubbock and I will continue to do so here in the Dizzle. Long live Tom Baldwin, Kyle Baldwin and Shawn. May they be seen in their underpants frequently (but not together, please) on the show.

In TV I hate:

MTV. We have already covered this.

Reality TV. Especially the talent competition ones (besides Top Chef, but that's over).

In music I love:

Pretty much anything where the band sings all whiny and screamy. I love it and I can't get enough. Is that genre called screamo (as opposed to emo)?

In music I hate:

Lil' John and all the beepy rap songs he keeps putting out. Since when did the beep on my mom's answering machine (circa 1989) become a musical instrument? Stop. You were cool when you hung out with Usher. Thanks for bringing crunk to light, now it's time for a nap.

The bands who keep trying to make videos that look like Stanley Kubrick films, or bands who make themselves up to look like Alexander de Large doppelgangers from A Clockwork Orange.

In cereal I love:

Lucky Charms. I had forgotten how delicious they are... magically delicious. My renewed love for the Charms is recent. I hadn't eaten them since I lived in the Zeta house and we had the generic kind that came in a bag. The real thing pretty much has a 50/50 cereal bits to marshmallow ratio. Really, it's a little more 'mallow than I like, but what the hey. I can't knock the marshmallow goodness. What I especially appreciate is how the cereal turns the milk a manufactured shade of grey. Grey = Magic.

In cereal I hate:

Anything that doesn't have "sugar" listed in the first two ingredients. And anything that claims it's good for my "heart".

Topics to discuss at work I love:

Passive-aggressive. I like to call Le Bistro "Passive-Aggressive Island". I think everyone is a little passive-aggressive. It's the modern way to avoid direct conflict with another (or yourself), but still make them think about what's wrong with them.

Shtarnsh, Eddie, and the new sweaty kid.

I don't think there is much I won't talk about at work...

People I'd love to party with:

Probably that sloth from the Dallas World Aquarium. I bet he's a wicked good time. I'd like to have a drinking contest with him.

People I'd hate to party with:

Charles Barkley and any magic Christians.

What I hate about Ruidoso:

The Texans driving around at 15 miles per hour, up the road to my house. This really makes me angry because I like to drive about 35 mph on the same road. It's fun! But when I get to see the looks on their faces, I see fear. It's my belief that they believe they are lost in Brady Canyon and cannot find their way out. Ever. Then I laugh.

What I love about Ruidoso:

The same thing. It gives me the opportunity to drive like a stock car driver and yell obscenities at people I'll never see again.

Monday, June 12, 2006


Another fabulous weekend in Dallas, kids. Good times, good Miller Lites, great heckling... about to be continued here. Friday night we traveled from Addison to the Greenville area. I'm not quite sure if we were in Upper or Lower Greenville because we drove around so much, which I could tell Ratheen really enjoyed. We ended up at a place called M Street, which apparently brings out everyone's inner gay with its house music, candles, and velvet booths. I wasn't such a big fan (primarily because of the bad music and warm beer), but I think Phil and Ratheen really got into it, which you can see by this picture:

I think it's great that you two are out there and proud. The way you two stare into each other's eyes is so touching. You probably can stop the mom jokes now... we all know what you're trying to cover. ;o) Here's a fairly heterosexual picture for any of you who are feeling uncomfortable (I don't know about that look on Jeff's face, though...):

I decided I should pose for a pic with Phil's blouse of the evening at the other bar we went to (not sure what it was called). It was pretty cool (and I am referring both to the bar and Phil's shirt). We hung out on the roof of said bar with an awesome view of Downtown. Here's a kick ass shot of Phil's striped shirt du jour:

What Ratheen is doing is anyone's guess. I'm fairly certain it has something to do with Phil's nipple, though.

I also got to hang out with Badger and Rooki- I mean Michael from NMSU. Badger had fun reminiscing about "college". I know this because if the Pee Wee's Playhouse word of the night was "college", everyone would have been incessantly screaming at Badger's stories. Or Jeff saying, "That's classic Badger!" Here's Badger getting animated about something at M Street. I was too busy trying to find some ecstasy to make the house music more bearable to know what he was talking about.

So I found out I have a feature on my Kodak Photo Software that allows you to make a photo look like a cartoon. Or more specifically, the famed A-Ha video from the 80s, "Take On Me". So I decided to make Jeff look like a member of the band. Watch out for those guys with tools chasing you...

Take on me. Take on me. Take me oooon! Take on me. I'll beeee goonnneee, in a day or twoooooooooo!!!

Probably my favorite part of Friday night was eating at some taco place on Greenville Ave. It was like being in Mexico... delicious. The salsa was super hot. So hot that Ratheen and Phil were whining about it, and Jeff had the guy put like seventeen times the normal amount on his last burrito. The eating contests you have with yourself, I will never understand, Jeff.

Anyways, Saturday Jeff and I headed Downtown and after we drove around in a circle for about an hour, we ate at Hoffbrau Steaks. I ate the greatest hamburger of all time, called the Roadhouse Burger. I think it would have made Dalton proud. It had Dr. Pepper barbeque sauce on it, which may sound weird, but it was very tasty. I also had fried pickles for the first time, which is pretty much like eating fried salt... delicious and crunchy fried salt, dipped in ranch dressing, that is.

After we ate we walked over to the Dallas World Aquarium to check out the wildlife. It was an aquarium, but so much more. There were bats, spiders, poisonous frogs, snakes, sharks, monkeys, a SLOTH and his human companion... here's a picture I took of a dog:

There were also people fish and some "actors" dressed up in Mayan costumes, playing with those sticks that sound like rain. I saw a little more Mayan man-leg than I had expected to that day, but it's all good.

Saturday night included drinking big, stoopid beers at Logan's with Phil, his friend Brandon, and eventually Larry. What you need to know is that the giant mugs at Logan's are never clean and Phil's shirt was black. I finally got to eat some P'Eatzza that night. It was everything I hoped it would be and more.

Sunday... damn... I was drunk again on Sunday. I started at Bread Winners in Uptown with a frozen mimosa, which was incredible. Jeff had some entree named after Dirk Nowitzki, which I thought was great. I'm probably going to become BFF with Dirk when I move to Dallas and we'll have sleepovers and play Trivial Pursuit and tell each other secrets and trade hair styling tips. ;o)

So what is important about Sunday is we had to get to Humperdink's in Addison like six hours before the game to get a good seat, and of course we started drinking right away. It's also very important to note I beat Ratheen and Jeff twice at NTN Trivia and won the entire game once. A few other people showed up, including Baer, who I mentioned in my previous Dallas blogs. This time I was a little more coherent and realized he reminds me of the Scottish Soccer Hooligans from Saturday Night Live... like you never know when he might go postal.

What else from Sunday... oh, Neil should probably know that if he tries to steal my sunglasses next time I see him, I will defeat him with a karate chop or a C-walking contest. On that note, here's a picture of Larry from Sunday night:

So anyways, it was a great time. I left very early Monday morning, watched the sun come up at Dallas Love Field, flew into El Paso and drove to Las Cruces so I could eat some Si Senor and tell Jeff about it. I must enjoy good Mexican food while I still can!

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Dumb and Dumber.

stu·pid ( P ) Pronunciation Key (stpd, sty-) adj. stu·pid·er, stu·pid·est
1. Slow to learn or understand; obtuse.
2. Tending to make poor decisions or careless mistakes.
3. Marked by a lack of intelligence or care; foolish or careless: a stupid mistake.

It has come to my attention (or rather been pointed out to me by certain individuals) that my I.Q. (high Q, or haiku) has taken a turn for the mildly retarded side after graduating about three weeks ago. I used to build sentences with words like "generalizeable", "socialization", and "academia". Now I say things like "dude", "whatever", and "mud butt" (is mud butt one word?). It's kind of like that book, Flowers for Algernon, where the guy gets really smart and then turns dumb. Except for there are no mice in my story.

I can no longer complete simple tasks like spell "warrior" correctly, or just grab one piece of paper to cover a table at the restaurant. I'll get two pieces even though I only need one. I have forgotten how to count. Currently, I employ a calculator for simple mathematical equations, although I can quickly determine, based on the price of someone's meal and the tip they left, what approximate percentage they left me.

My reading consists of Harry Potter and Cosmopolitan, while my television viewing includes cartoons like The Simpsons, Family Guy, Futurama, and Spongebob Squarepants. I used to watch a lot of A&E, I think... I went to the new X-Men movie the other day and I liked it. I LIKED IT. Grad school Sarah would have never even gone to that movie.

Formerly in my possession was Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra, but I have apparently misplaced it. I wanted to read it, but now I am afraid that the ideas in the book may cause my feeble mind to implode, so I should probably just start the Harry Potter series over again and continue my quasi-intellectual conversations with Jeff and Donica about where all of the Horcruxes are located, whether or not Snape is good or evil, and who R.A.B. really is.

Amanda wanted to get her sense of humor back. I think I'm still pretty funny. I just don't wanna be dumb anymore...

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Emotional Overload

Today I endured a bombardment of emotion. So much that I ended up shedding a tear or three on two seperate occasions. For the most part I can keep my emotions in check, unless I'm made victim of a surprise attack, which has really only happened three-ish times in my life (all three in the past six months... yesss).

Hey, guys, I know what you're thinking... premenstrual syndrome, right? Not so much. For one thing, I think PMS is just a huge conspiracy theory/hoax/excuse, and another: I am a person who believes in changing your attitude as much as you can when you notice it turns sour for no apparent reason. I believe you can apply the line, "Get over it. Go out with someone else," from Wayne's World to a plethora of life's situations. And for another thing, it's just not even PMS time.

Today I was strongly persuaded to finish a certain section of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince while I was at work. Yeah, a perk of working at Le Bistro is I can read sometimes, but reading this chapter while at work was not so much a good idea. Said chapter got me all misty-eyed, I text Amanda and she said she didn't know how I was controlling my behavior, I replied and said I'd had a lot of practice in the last five months.

Continuing with the chapter, it became even more depressing, and I was sitting next to Richard on the patio, nonchalantly turning away so he wouldn't notice me crying at work. I think (no, I know) the last and only time I cried there was when this broad told me I'd made her the worst cappucino of all time (even though I made it the same as all the others and have had no complaints), and Jeff just had to capitalize on the heckling opportunity. Of course he didn't think I'd start crying because that's very un-Sarah, but it happened.

So Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, more specifically the chapter titled "The Lightning Struck Tower", or chapter 27, or page 596, got me started.

Then I went to the new X-Men movie with Jeff and Caryn. *sigh* Dude, a movie about mutants totally got me all choked up. I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it, but there were two instances when I was seriously crying, and trying once again to conceal my asininity (yes, it's a real word because I said so and I have an advanced degree, which permits me to make up words on occasion). Stupid X-Men and their stupid sexy powers of love and destruction... GAWD!

So then (wait, actually this happened before the movie) Jeff and I went to the Coyote Cantina to have an after-work tottie (I had Coca-Cola) and see my mom, who was hanging out after having endured the wiles of my bitter grandmother in Roswell for four or five days. My mom pretty much immediately starts in on how the medical examiner who performed my brother's autopsy had to talk to my other brother, Josh, about what happened the night before Matt passed away. Josh was very upset, obviously, but managed to hide it from me yesterday and today while my mom was gone.

The mom, however, made it a point to tell me all about it, which in turn upset me. Josh didn't tell me about it because he knew it would upset me, I'm sure. The bar is not the place to discuss these matters, but whatever, it's sometimes the 90s. When we first got the results of the autopsy, my mom came to my bar when I was still working there and told me. Yeah, always a good idea... not. I changed the subject this evening as soon as I could by saying, "Hey guess what? Richard said 'style-life' instead of 'lifestyle' today." "Ha ha ha ha ha..."

You know, a couple of people have tried to talk to me about Matt when I've been drinking, they've been drinking, or both. It's really just not a cool idea, for future reference. I'll talk about it when I want to, but if I'm out, having a Miller Lite, chances are I came out to have fun and not talk about the devastating circumstances surrounding January 6.

The flipping point is that all the sad deaths in the books and movies I read and watch remind me of my brother sometimes. Especially now as we're approaching five months without his physical presence. A lot of people took it upon themselves to ask me what happened to him in the days and weeks afterwards, and I really took offense. First of all, who's business was it, and secondly, why the eff does it matter? What matters is he's gone. Now that we "know" what happened, I think most people probably asked because they just didn't know what to say, and could not fathom why a perfectly healthy 21-year-old would randomly die in his sleep. We don't know why, literally and figuratively. It's a medical anomaly. Pehaps a heart arrhythmia, they say. And by "they", I mean the medical examiners (plural).

Sorry if this ruined anyone's moment, but don't worry, the moment will come back to you. If you've gotten this far in this uber-long blog, take a few things away with you: Sarah is most definitely not a robot, she doesn't want to get philosophical when she drinks (unless it's about Anchorman or the cultural significance of Duck Tales), and she wants you to make sure she didn't spell warrior wrong. Don't you feel better already, great blog warrior reader?