Big Girls Don't Cry Over Bad Grammar

I really enjoyed the new Fergie single until I noticed a glaring grammar error in the chorus. The same, terrible faux pas repeated several times until by the end of the song I could think of nothin else. (Bonus points if you can name the mistake.)

I really need to get back to school where I can surround myself with people who, by nature, obsess about grammar.

Nothing Ever Stays

There's something nice about coming home from a long day at work to find a package addressed to you, especially when it's something you'd forgotten you'd ordered, and are thus even more surprised.

Eating mac and cheese while listening to the CD contained in said package is even nicer.

I move to abolish email and facebook. Especially facebook. I miss the days of getting actual mail. Granted, I'm not too old, so my memories of receiving mail are mostly of Hello Kitty stationary, lick'n'stick stickers and pen pals. I still miss it.

Surfin' USA

In approx. 34 minutes I will depart to Sunny California for one week's vacation, or as I like to call it: Operation World Takeover (colon) The Golden State Episode; Surfing, Bridges and Seth Cohen.

In preparation, I have taken all the necessary precautions. Behold, the California Survival Kit, containing:

- Seasons 2-4 of the OC, fitted snuggly in my iPod.
- Various California-inspired reading material (the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Microserfs, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, etc)
- Dozens of songs about California, to be arranged on the plane, to create the perfect sunshiny road mix
- Camera and new batteries, to document any important events (Golden Gate Bridge, Venice, meeting Zach Braff (if only))
- The magic pink sunglasses
- Sunscreen (SPF 55), to be reapplied continually
- Numerous "hip" guidebooks (including two issues of Spin) to charter me through the cities
- A teddy bear (to protect me in South Central)

Hopefully I haven't forgotten anything.

three weeks in

I am an envelope stuffing machine

paper mooning it

Upon learning that my little iPod (Lucky, 11 months old, white 60GB video) was sick, I promptly wrapped him up and brought him in to Costco for a full refund. I used my winnings to buy a brand new black 80GB iPod (which I have named Moesha. I'm still deciding whether or not that's hilarious and clever, or just a little racist.)

And, since iPods have gone down in price since I bought Lucky (who, since we're being totally honest, was a trade in from a 60 GB photo) a year ago, so now, not only did I walk out with a brand new iPod, but with $70 in Costco credit that I put towards a gorgeous new 22" flatscreen monitor (My 6-year-old 15" CRT monitor is sitting sadly on my bedroom floor, awaiting his fate.)

I have totally got this whole Costco thing figured out.

It's beautiful outside, from what I can tell in here

Anyone have a job so terrible that it reminds you why you chose to pursue post-secondary school?

I do. Enter Melissa's Summer Job, 2007. Hell for $12 an hour.

Okay, so it's not really that bad. A lot of my friends are doing things that are much worse, but a few of the tasks I've been given are so terribly boring I have actually started to blank out for an hour or two at a time. This makes me nervous.

Also, I've spent the last two weeks or so arranging by hand thumbnail sheets of about a zillion Illustrator files, and only today learned Photoshop can do this for me. I have three sheets left. Grrr.

childhood

For the first time in about a decade, the ice cream truck drove down my street, ringing its bell.

My sister and I got sprang into action, grabbed some change and ran outside like we did when we were kids to get some ice cream. Sure, we had ice cream in the freezer, but it's by far inferior to any ice cream that comes from a truck with a bell.

We reached the driveway grinning like idiots and watched the woman driving the truck look at us, smile at us, wave, and continue driving despite our attempts to mime "Yes, we want ice cream!"

We saw her a few blocks away, selling ice cream to some little kids. The moment has passed.

It was more disappointing than the time I mistook the knife sharpening truck for the ice cream truck. (sidenote: only ice cream selling vehicles should be allowed to ring a bell in the summer.)