evil is alive and well.

The title of this post may appear to be a bit melodramatic, but I promise you it is not for two reasons: (1) it's in reference to a song on the new Jakob Dylan album which is not remotely melodramatic but instead very fantastic, and (2) my thesis may be evil but I have doubts as to the "alive" and "well" parts.

I stayed up all night the day before my parents came to visit for graduation in May. I was working on my last class final. I was extremely productive, partially cause I was hopped up on Diet Rockstar and partially because I thought that was the last all-my graduate career. Sadly, I was wrong. I'm turning in the first full draft of the thesis tomorrow and I still have a crap load to do. So it's the library for me... at least until they kick me out when they close at the absurdly early hour of eight p.m. (Although I've considered pulling a Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. If you have not read this book you must.)

And then I'm going to take a half hour dinner break in which I eat and watch the new Weeds episode (I tried to watch it last night but conked out like an oldie--but a goodie!). And THEN, i'm going to drink Diet Rockstar, drink of champions, and finish this MFer!

I'd like to say that today is IN FACT that last all-nighter, but optimism has clearly screwed me before.

--buelsy (pugilistic pessimist)

recent life events.

1. I saw the Fish Tank Guy again the other night. He was jumping around his living room making weird arm gestures. Being the savvy spy that I am, I assumed he was playing Nintendo Wii. Maybe even one of those new, super cool Wii Fit games. I was momentarily jealous. But as I passed his porch I caught a glimpse of the TV. He was watching Family Guy.
2. I was eating a microwave pizza the other night while watching Law and Order and had an unfortunate freak accident. A rather large piece of scalding cheese flew off the pizza while I was taking a bit and landed on my lip. It not only hurt but also left a freaky burn mark on my lower lip. This makes my lips look like they are severely chapped. It also kind of makes me look like I have herpes.
   
3. I've been letting my cats go on the porch for a little while each night. They dig it. I heard one of them tell the other that I am the coolest cat mommy around.

--buelsy (does not have herpes)

there's always memory lane.

I took my old iPod to the gym with me tonight. This is the iPod I bought right before I moved to UCLA and engraved with the words, "have a little faith, there's magic in the night." And let me tell you, that iPod has taken me to some magical places. I don't think I'll ever be able to get rid of it.

While I was foraging the cross ramp, I found an old playlist titled "Power Up." It reeks of KROQ and the summer of 2005, but in a good way. It's nostalgic, but not the type that makes you feel droopy for the rest of the day. It's intense, but not like Fergie (when I listen to Fergie at the gym I feel so intense that I want to punch things... and people). It's going to be my playlist for the rest of this week. Maybe it should be yours too:

1. "Sugar We're Going Down" -- Fall Out Boy
2. "Move Along" -- The All-American Rejects
3. "Banquet" -- Bloq Party
4. "Helena" -- My Chemical Romance
5. "A Favor House Atlantic" -- Coheed and Cambria
6. "Holiday From Real" -- Jack's Mannequin
7. "Futures" -- Jimmy Eats World

Seven is the magic number.

--buelsy (toughin' it out)

how to save the world.

I'm a firm believer that there is a correct way to put toilet paper on a toilet paper holder. It should look like this:


See how the end of the roll is hanging over the top as opposed to under? THAT is the correct way to dispense toilet paper. Unfortunately, not everybody in Christmas Island is as enlightened as I. Today I went to Cup of Joe for a meeting and used their incredibly-cute bathroom. Within exactly seven seconds I realized that something was gravely wrong. You guessed it. It was the toilet paper. Hanging all backasswards and looking lonely. So I fixed it. You know what they say: good deeds keep karma away. And I hear that chick is a b!tch.

--buelsy (bathroom do-gooder at large)

word on the street.

Thanks to those who commented or called to make sure I was not in fact losing my mind at the time of my last post. I am pleased to say that I am no longer quite as keen on the idea of giving up and hightailing it to Simi, CA. I think I'll stay here and finish my thesis and then throw myself a crazy-ass party instead.

NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH:
I was taking the trash out last night and as I was walking back into the building I noticed that one of my neighbors* down the hall** had his porch*** door open. The guy has a gigantic fish tank that takes up nearly all of one wall. He was putting the tank's cover back on after assumedly feeding the tank inhabitants or fiddling around with the inner-workings. As his hands left the top of the tank one trailed down and remained on the side for a moment. If it's possible to fondle the side of a fish tank, that is exactly what he did. I felt fairly sure that the fish appreciated it. After all, fish need love too.

*I recently moved and never posted about it. Messy Manor is no longer, both literally and figuratively. The new apartment (which some have determined to call The Villa) is extremely tidy.Given the fact that I currently have no job, no school, and a thesis to avoid, I've become bizarrely adept at domestic tasks. Starting over helped too, because let's face it: sometimes apartments just get so messy that you have to move.

**I maintain that I was not spying. Fact of life: If you leave your porch door open people are going to look at your fish tank.

***Porch is a funny word. Say it five times out loud. Funny, right?

ANOTHER NOTE ON DOMESTICITY:
I'm making fish fillets with eda-mommy and double baked sweet potatoes for dinner. I bet you wish YOU were invited.

--buelsy (aquarium-friendly)