Thursday, May 29, 2008


Today was an awesome day again. No particular reason-- well, maybe one particular reason, but I think I'll keep it to myself this time. I'll just tell you it's a political reason. :P

Anyway, I got a new hat today. An Indiana Jones style fedora, to be more specific. I was planning on replacing my faded bleached dirty resort baseball cap with it... but it doesn't breathe very well, so I think I like the ball cap better. But I'm definitely keeping the fedora for my hat collection anyway. And besides, it's stiffer and has a nice... what do you call it? Dip? Where your head goes. So I bet I could use it for some new juggling tricks, with practice.

I finished reading Mistborn for the second time today. Did I mention Brandon Sanderson is an absolutely amazing author? Besides the fact that the stories in his books are awesome and presented in a spectacular way, they're also very insightful and leave you thinking about human nature, society, politics, and religion. Not any specific religion, really, but the way people look at religion in general.

I've never particularly enjoyed practicing religion, personally, (except for the social aspect, I guess) but I've always found it moderately interesting learning about religions from an outside (objective? subjective? I get those words mixed up) point of view. Two of my author favorite authors, (after Sanderson, Wrede, and Coville,) are atheists, but their books still have religious insights. They carry the message that people need something to believe in. Even atheists, I think, believe in something.

I guess I'm not really interested in religion so much as interested in people's interest in religion. Maybe I should have been a psychologist or something. :P

Shutting up now. Toodles!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008


The last few days have been spectacular!

I got some homework done on Monday, my first day off... but around three o'clock, I heard the housekeepers cleaning the room next to mine. That's not right, I thought. They should be in the 200s by now. Sure enough, about five minutes later, I heard someone coming running up to the porch and then Rye's voice said, "Tessie! Are the other 400s done?" She said something muffled, and then I heard Rye tapping his list a few times, counting rooms, and then say, "We have one hour and 25 rooms to clean and we cannot have overtime today!"

Rye's funny on his panic attacks. Well, I was bored of biology anyway, so after a few minutes of debating whether to help or not, I wandered in to work and said, "Hi hi! You guys sound like you could use some help. Am I allowed to volunteer here on my days off?" So I put in two hours worth of work (part of Rye's panic attack was because he misread the clock) for free on a day off. The best part was that when I showed up, Rye calmed down, so I got to feel helpful.

Then this morning, my phone rang at ten o'clock, and Rye asked, "So... how would you like to work again, for money this time?" So I got to work six hours today too. Did I mention I love my job? I guess I have almost more fun at work than I do after work. Especially now that Emmelie (I'm pretty sure that's how it's spelled) has started. We have a lot of fun. Possibly even too much fun. She looks a lot like my old roommate Rachel, but her personality reminds me a little more of Hillary's mixed with Monarc's. Of course, none of you know both Hillary and Monarc, so I guess that doesn't tell you anything. What's amazing, though, is that she's seen The Last Unicorn, and The Gnomemobile, and Quest for Camelot, as well as a few other fairly obscure movies I've seen that no one else has. Most of the time, the obscure movies I've seen are dismissed as unimportant and not worth watching, so it's nice to find someone else who saw and enjoyed them. Also, she actually sings with me, which is fun... except she changes key periodically. Rawr!

I'm writing a goofy housekeeping song, just for kicks... as well as because Emmelie thinks it's funny, which makes it worth working on. When I get a few more verses, I'll post the lyrics here. If I can figure out how, I may even record the song itself. It has to be sung in a housekeeper accent, you see....

Also, Grease Monkey's back in town!!! Yay!!! She took me to see the new Narnia movie, Prince Caspian, on Monday. It was a pretty good movie. Definitely strayed from the book, but still good, and worth seeing. And the graphics were astounding! And, Grease Monkey brought me a skinning knife from the North Slope! It's awesome! It's all black except with a silver-colored edge on the blade and it's wickedly curved and looks like some kind of evil magic knife from a story or something. It's even got a sheath and case thingy so I can carry it on my belt. I've decided not to start carrying it regularly just yet, though... For one thing, my belt is starting to get pretty heavy, since I already carry my Leatherman and my mini-Maglite on it, as well as my keys hooked to the belt loop. And when I'm at work, I carry a radio and a rag tucked through another belt loop, and occasionally a stained pillowcase through yet another belt loop. Call it a scientific experiment to see just how much I can carry before the weight on my belt either breaks the belt or makes my pants fall down despite (or maybe because of) the belt. Except not a very devoted experiment, because I'm not carrying the skinning knife on my belt. Yet. Instead, I keep it on my desk and toy with it when I'm bored. That thing is sharp! Not to mention totally awesome, of course.

Monty was going to fix my car today (finally), but I was supposed to bring the car in at four, and I got called in to work, so I was working then. But he tracked me down and I just gave him my car keys so he could take the car in and work on it anyway. Not only did he fix my converter, but he fixed my old converter, so I can take the other one I bought back in and return it. Cool cool! And best of all, now my precious runs quietly again! Just like when I first got her, she runs so quietly that I can barely hear the engine after I start her up. Did I ever mention I love my car?

So I'm definitely getting up early tomorrow and getting donuts for Monty and everyone else in the boat shop too. Because happy day! My car works! :D

Also, know what's really scary? Maybe it's from juggling, or maybe it's from lifting so many heavy dirty bags, but I actually have visible muscles on my arms! Holy cow! Rawr, fear me and my manly strength!

I'm fully burned out on MMOs now, so I think I'm going to quit them for good. I'll miss Mervyn, Kathala, Estarien, and Krispyn, though. Especially Mervyn. You just can't have a gnome rogue for two years and not miss him when you quit. Gnomes are the epitome of awesome, and there's no arguing that. You can try, but you will lose. The coolest thing about Mervyn was that for the longest time, he had one dagger that glowed red and one dagger that glowed green. He looked like one of Santa's elves, lit up like a Christmas decoration. It was awesome!

I finished Goblin War, so I'm rereading Mistborn, even though I have seven unread books lying around waiting to be read. I don't know, I felt in the mood to read something I'd read before. And besides, Brandon Sanderson is definitely one of my all-time favorite authors. Seriously, I highly recommend both Mistborn and Elantris. Best. Ever.

Anyway, I'm out for now. Toodles!

Monday, May 26, 2008


...teehee. O (the author of this webcomic) often thinks about things most people just accept without thinking about. The comic occasionally is a little... "open," but overall, I think it's a very good comic.

Of course, I've thought about this particular problem, which is why I always wear cargo pants. Or loose carpenter jeans. Or other pants that have plenty of functional pockets. Sure, "that's why women carry purses," but I guarantee if I had a purse, I would lose it. Repeatedly. And I would go crazy being forced to carry something around with me all the time, making one of my arms only semi-functional until I'm forced to finally put the purse down somewhere to get full mobility in both of my arms and subsequently... lose my purse. (That was a big run-on sentence.... I hope you understood it, because I'm not rewriting it.)

Friday, May 23, 2008

Did I mention I'm an idiot?

We got a new girl at work today, Emmillie. Or Emillie. Or Emmilie. Or something like that. Until I learn how many Ms and Ls she uses, I'm going to call her Em. Anyway, she's sixteen years old, and Rye warned me to be nice to her and not corrupt her or scare her, because he'd heard she was shy and religious both.

She's not shy. At all. And she "avoids church like the plague" in her own words. Even though it was her first day, she was perfectly comfortable and acted like she's been here for months. She worked as a housekeeper at the Breeze Inn for the last year or two and before that, she worked in her parents' laundromat. Beth, of course, adores her already. She's just a few inches shorter than I am, delicately built while still looking spunky, and is pretty much dead gorgeous. She smiles and laughs a lot, loves telling stories (usually about her million and one friends), is super enthusiastic about everything, and is smart, seeming to know everything about everything. She's in drama, she's played the piano for ten years, she likes to sing, she likes camping, et cetera. I can't tell if I love her or hate her.

It's really nice hanging out with someone who's smiley and enthusiastic, for a change. But I almost felt like she was overshadowing me or something. I felt very out of place when Beth and Em started talking about Zac (guy who worked here last summer). He was Beth's Favorite last year (I don't know if he'll still be the Favorite or if Em will be the new Favorite), and Em knows him and likes him a lot, so the two of them just starting gushing about how wonderful Zac is and he's funny and likes anime (just like Beth! zomg!) and has a goal he's working for blah blah blah blah blah. I felt very out of place. Of course I like Zac. He's a fun guy. But I'm not about to gush over him like a starstruck teenage girl...

Anyway, I figure by the end of the summer, Em and I are going to either be best friends or mortal enemies. But I do think that I'll try and get her and her friends to play Dungeons and Dragons this summer. I bet several of them would play and we could have a real campaign with more than three people this year!

So anyway, after work, I finished my book, Goblin War. It was awesome! I want to get the other books in the series now, because Jig rocks my socks.

I decided that instead of playing LotRO with Rye and Tom and Allen, that I wanted to go for a walk. I had a lot on my mind, okay? And this is where I learned a valuable life lesson. If you're going to hike in the woods on a mountain in the middle of nowhere by yourself... at least stay on the trail. And if you're stupid like me and decide not to follow any trail, don't try to climb down a cliff so you can cross a waterfall so you can scale the cliff on the other side. I apparently have horrible depth perception or something. Not to mention horrible judgment.

So I saw no other easy way to get to the other side of this waterfall than to climb down this cliff. I looked down and decided it looked like it would be cake to climb down. There were quite a few ledge-looking things covered in pine needles and it couldn't be all that far. And, I thought, once I got to the water, if I couldn't easily get up the cliff on the other side, I could just follow the river down the mountain a ways and cross further on. I don't know why I assumed that. I guess I wasn't thinking straight. At all. Also, I'm an idiot.

So I started to climb down, and it turned out that the "ledge-looking things" were at about a seventy degree angle. And they were made of loose dirt and mud. I didn't realize that until I was about five feet below the top of the ledge--too far down to get back up, because it was too steep, and the dirt was so loose it was impossible to climb up. So I kept going down. And the further I got down, the looser the dirt was. At first, there were a few tree roots to hold onto... but then those were gone, and I found myself twenty feet down with nowhere else to go and my hands slipping off the last tree root, which I had to hold in a horribly awkward position that felt like it was ripping off my thumb. I looked down. Now my depth perception was working. Once I let go of this root, I would slide down about fifty feet before crashing through twenty feet of Devil's Club (think spiky poisonous plants... with thorns. Spiky thorns. That are long and sharp and rip easily out of the plant to get embedded in your skin) and then falling off a fifteen-foot ledge, smashing into rocks below that, and being washed away by the waterfall. Not good.

Holy crap. I thought. I'm going to die. I'm seriously going to die.

My hands slipped a little more.

Oh God, I'm going to die.

And then I slipped and started sliding down the mountain. The only thing that kept me from falling to my death was a little root several feet down that I had managed to grab onto. The root wasn't even as big around as a pencil. And with my weight on it, it was started to pull out of the ground.

I'm dead. Oh God, I'm really going to die. For real. Oh God oh God oh God. Normally I don't use the phrase "oh God," but when you're about to die, it seems like an appropriate time (hypocritical though that may be, I guess). There's no way. Oh geez, this is going to hurt so bad... And dangit. Dangit dangit dangit. There's pine needles in my shoes.

...Yeah. I seriously thought that. Here I was, clinging for dear life to a thin root that was about to break, fifty feet above a waterfall halfway up a mountain in Alaska, when no one knew where I was, and it would probably take weeks for them to even find my dead body... and I was freaking out because there were pine needles in my shoes. Pine needles. It was so ridiculous that I started laughing. Hysterically.

Terror is a funny thing.

Through sheer luck, I managed to make my way over to a dead tree. And out loud, I said, "Oh my gosh... thank you, tree. I mean... I know you're dead... and I'm sorry about that... but thank you." Then I started cracking up again. "I know you're dead, and I'm sorry about that." Wow.

The tree, even though it was dead, and only about two inches in diameter, seemed sturdy enough to support my weight while I figured out what to do next. I suddenly remembered I had my cell phone in my pocket. I pulled it out and sure enough, I had one bar of reception. I thought about calling for help, but I didn't think anyone could really help me much, short of flying a helicopter to me and making me climb a rope ladder, but there were so many trees around that no one would find me and a ladder wouldn't reach me. Besides, that would probably cost me a lot of money I didn't have. So instead, I thought of calling Rye or Beth up and saying "Hey, I'm sorry for dying, really. Didn't mean to cause trouble. Just so you know, I left Rye's keys on my dresser. And the radio. I accidentally took it home after work. Sorry about that."

I decided against calling anyone, though, because deep down, I still refused to believe I was going to really die.

Well, to make this long story a little shorter, I somehow managed to get all the way home without anything but sore muscles and two minor shallow scratches on my leg. And very muddy clothes, of course. Talking to myself the whole way actually helped. Kind of funny how that works.

Remind me never to leave a hiking trail by myself again, even if I do know exactly where I am....

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Lint Monkey Juggle Good!

I actually made a video! Zoh my gosh! But my camera batteries still refuse to last more than two minutes at a time, so instead of one continuous video clip, I had to paste together a bunch of short ones... which is okay, because it gave me an excuse to edit out most of my stupid mistakes.

Review review! :D

Still having problem after problem getting my car fixed. With luck, it'll get fixed next Tuesday (knock on wood). When did I break off my catalytic converter? February, I think? This is getting silly. But that's okay.

I finished the Book of Lost Things, by John Connolly. It was an astounding book--I couldn't put it down. It reminded me a little of the Chronicles of Narnia in some ways, and it parodied a bunch of fairy tales, and it had a very definite message behind it. It was a little bit bloody, though, just a warning. It didn't glorify the gore, but it was bloody enough that I wouldn't recommend it to a small child. It's about a boy, about twelve years old, whose mother died. His father remarried soon after and I guess the main thing about the story was about how he had to accept the fact that his mother was gone, let go of his grief, and accept his stepmother and half-brother into his life. But in doing this, he got sucked into the fairy tale world of the books he loved to read so much. I'm not explaining it well, but I thoroughly enjoyed the book. It's been a while since a book has sucked me in so completely.

I'm now reading another book called Goblin War, by Jim C. Hines. It's a light-hearted, funny book told from the point of view of the clumsy, none-too-bright goblins in your typical fantasy world. Honestly, it's no wonder goblins are usually level 1 or 2 monsters. I'm about a third of the way through it, and it's another one I don't want to put down. I highly recommend it if you're looking for a funny fantasy book.

I'm still struggling through the Dragonbone Chair as well.... It has its moments, but I still can't really get into it. I have trouble getting into books that have too many details, whether it's landscapes, characters, politics, religions, or background stories. Give me humor, plot, and dialog and I'm happy. Well, okay, throw in character development too, and leave out the emo stuff.

Anyway, that's all for now. I do have work tomorrow. Yaaaaay! Toodles!

Sunday, May 18, 2008


Exhausted after a long day of work, I came home and reviewed the reason I never sleep on my stomach. After twenty minutes of drooling all over my arm, my snores woke me up. I never snore... except when I sleep on my stomach. Ditto with drooling. Honest.

I spent the last two days house-sitting for the Packs, which meant I slept in a real bed, a soft one with a temperpedic (sp?) mattress pad and no less than seven pillows on it. Now my back is killing me from sleeping on a soft bed for the first time in years.

I also got to babysit the dog, Kodie, and the 20-some chickens. I've decided I don't just hate ravens. I hate all birds. Stupid chickens. Every time I tried to get their water thing to fill it up, about six of them would peck at my hands, and they never stopped their incessant chirping, no matter what time it was, and they kept trying to fly out of the cage (succeeded three times, too) and they smelled bad and made a big mess. Besides that, they're ugly. Even uglier than my little sister. (Partly because my sister got really pretty, but I'm not about to tell her that. Oh, oops, I kind of just did.) But seriously, I can see why people kill chickens. Because they're ugly and stupid and smelly and mean and not really good for anything else.

Kodie (I finally learned how to spell her name right!) is the best dog in the whole world, by the way. She's a Corgi, so she's got really short stubby legs and no tail, so instead of wagging her tail, she just shakes her furry butt. Her ears stick up like a cat's instead of drooping like a stereotypical dog's, and she has a very expressive face. I swear she smiles when she's happy. She sat and watched me while I practiced juggling, and when I dropped the balls, she ran and got them and brought them back to me and didn't even make me fight her for them like I expected she would. (That picture isn't Kodie, it's just a picture of a Corgi I yanked off Google. Kodie doesn't have any black on her back--she's mostly yellow. She's also a lot cuter.) When I left to go to work, Kodie begged me to take her with me and gave me such a look for deserting her that I felt guilty all day long. Yeah, she's got me wrapped around her paw....

Having use of a kitchen was a dangerous thing.... I baked some brownies that surprisingly turned out really really really well, which is new and exciting. But I also cooked a new invention that ended up making me really sick all night. There's a reason I don't cook, remember?

Hm... so I got to work with Steven all day today, which I actually enjoyed. Steven has a habit of stopping working to talk to you, but most of the time, you can just remind him to get back to work and he will without getting offended. I really appreciated working with him today mostly because I really wanted someone to talk to, and Steven is one of the only people who works here that I feel like I can talk to about almost anything, because he actually listens and actually seems to care. He often asks me to tell him stories, which always makes me happy, because if you know me well, you know I love telling stories. Heck, I was in Storytelling Club in college. Very briefly, because it overlapped with the improv team I started, but still.... I don't get the chance to tell many stories anymore. Most of the time, when I start to tell a story, people don't react and seem to get bored with the story, so I feel obligated to hurry up and get to the point. No, dear coworkers, I'm not trying to blame or point fingers or anything like that, honest. Just saying I really enjoyed working with Steven today.

I watched Beauty and the Beast yesterday for the first time since I was like five. It was a lot funnier than I remembered it being. I laughed my way through most of the movie. But the special edition has a scene that definitely wasn't in the original version I watched. It included a song called To Be Human Again, and I honestly felt like it didn't add anything to the movie. In fact, it put three songs back-to-back-to-back, which almost made me start to lose interest. F-minus. But yeah. Funny movie.

That's all for now. Toodles!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Le Fou

Much as I love making people laugh, sometimes I really get tired of playing the fool.

Example. Today during lunch break, Tessie homed in on the fridge and pulled out some kind of sausage. She turned to me and said, "Here, you have knife, you open this for me!"

"Um..." I hesitated. "I think Beth or Tom or someone wanted that, and that really doesn't look like the kind of thing you can just cut open and eat..."

"No no, is fine, you open, we eat." I protested once or twice more, but arguing with a Phillipino is impossible, so I figured it was easier just to open it for her. So I pulled out my knife and cut it open, and sure enough, it was raw sausage, the kind you make into patties and grill.

Sue came over and said "Oh, not good to eat. Need microwave. Is raw!"

At that point, I threw up my hands and said, "Okay, you guys have fun with that, I want nothing more to do with this, I don't cook." Sue put some on a plate and popped it in the microwave as I cleaned my knife and put it away, and just then, Rye walked in the room.

"What the heck... you guys, you can't just microwave and eat this stuff, it'll turn into rubber. That's the kind of thing you fry or grill."

And Tessie and Sue both turned to me and started laughing and acting like I was the one who had decided to microwave it. I tried to say I wanted nothing to do with it, but nobody listened, and when the microwave was done, Sue said, "Oh, look, Lint Monkey, your food is done," and pulled it out and presented it to me like I was royalty. Everyone else refused to eat any.

Of course, Beth was mad that "I" had ruined her dinner, because she had planned on taking it home and eating it. I overhead Tessie and Sue telling her later about how I had gotten into it and decided to microwave it and ruined it and so on.

It's not a big deal, I know... But right now, I'm getting really tired of being the village idiot. And I really don't want to be made to look like a liar, either. Believe it or not, I'm really not a total idiot. I'm not!

Oh well... I guess I should go get some ingredients for dinner. I'm cooking fajitas for the Packs tonight. Yay cooking! I haven't really cooked in months. I don't particularly enjoy it, but I think I can trust Cindy to not hang over my shoulder and tell me what I'm doing wrong while I try to cook.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008


I decided to pull out my juggling balls and learn some new juggling patterns. I'm working on Mill's Mess right now and I've almost got it... but not quite. Next goal is to learn the Pendulum and my long-term goal is to learn Rubenstein's Revenge. I also learned two other patterns I don't know the names for--they were relatively simple, though. One of them is fairly easy, but it looks really cool. You have your two balls juggling normally and a third ball kind of circling them on the outside. Hard to explain, but it looks nifty, especially with colored balls.

The sad thing is, to learn the Pendulum or Rubenstein's Revenge or almost any other new trick, I'll have to seriously work on doing two in one hand, because they're all dependent on that. And by the way, my left hand is a traitor. It seems like about 90% of the time I mess up, it's because my left hand fumbled. Rawr! Guess I need to start working on my ambi-dexterity again.

There's also, I think, some kind of cosmic law that says that whenever I drop any ball I'm trying to juggle, it has to go underneath a piece of furniture and roll to wherever is the hardest possible spot for me to reach it. I think I spend more time chasing the stupid balls under the bed or the dresser than I do actually juggling. Stupid cosmic law.

For some reason, practicing juggling has gotten me more excited about going back to school this fall. I've decided nothing, not even Leading Edge, is going to keep me from juggling club this year.

I'm still waiting to hear back from the school to see if I'm allowed to go or not... I hope, I hope, I hope!

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Nyuk nyuk

I'm becoming my father. Today I had to weave my way through a crowd of people and instead of saying "Excuse me" like any normal person would say, I said "Beg pardon." Who says "Beg pardon?" My dad, that's who. And no one else that I've ever met that I can think of. And it's been a year and a half since I last saw my dad. Genes. Nasty stuff. They'll chase you everywhere you go. Horrors!

I really have written a few posts in the last few days. Well, not exactly. Mostly, I started writing short stories, but then got bored halfway through writing them and decided to save them instead of posting them. It's okay. They weren't great stories anyway.

My room smells a bit like dirty socks. How distressing. I'd rather not smell like dirty socks, personally. I'd rather smell like... oh, I don't know... clean hamster litter. Actually, clean hamster litter smells pretty nice. But the best two smells in the world are rain and freshly mowed lawn. (Mowed? Mown? Whatever.) Oh well, better dirty socks than rotten food.

New subject! I have to wonder about this whole venting thing. People say "It's important to vent to people when you're frustrated because otherwise it builds up and then you explode and lose your temper," but as far as I can tell, venting is just another word for complaining, and it's better to just try and think of something else and let the annoyance die away by refusing to think about it. That or by laughing at it. I've noticed a huge number of problems can be solved by laughing at them. Not all, obviously. You wouldn't want to go to your grandmother's funeral laughing maniacally or you'll end up in a padded cell. But you're all smart, you know what I mean.

New subject! Actually, not really. I'm tired because my neighbors thought it would be a good idea to make a lot of noise in the wee hours of the morning. Not even sure whether they were singing or listening to the radio or watching TV or what. Punks. I should have banged on their door and asked them to quiet down or at least called the office, but... well, I didn't. I've kind of been out of it lately because I'm coming down with something. Oh well, I'll get over it.

I had a monster headache the other day. I have a very high pain tolerance, and pain medication doesn't really affect me very much, so I usually avoid taking it unless I'm practically dying. My headache was so bad that when it got to the point that I was shivering from the pain, I finally gave in and decided to take some medicine. Of course, the only medicine I have is the motrin and the percocet they gave me last summer when I got my wisdom teeth taken out, and I was in no condition to drive to the store to get Tylenol or whatever. So I got some food and took a motrin... and then I looked at the bottle and realized I'd accidentally taken a percocet instead. Oops.

The funny thing is, percocet makes both my parents as loopy as the Trix rabbit. I have other friends that it just knocks them flat on their butts for several hours. It hardly even affects me. (I've taken it only once before, right after I got my wisdom teeth out.) I was amused slightly easier than before (no hysterical giggling or anything, though) and after a few hours, I got a little light-headed for about half an hour. Then I was back to normal. That's no fun!

Well, at least it made my headache go away. Huge relief, there. Definitely going to have to be more careful reading medicine bottles in the future, though.

That's all. Toodles!

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Dogs and sex. No, not at the same time.

I think it's very nearly criminal that so many places don't allow pets, especially apartments for single people. If you're going to live by yourself, you almost have to have a pet, in my opinion. Right now, I would give my soul for a dog. (After all, it's not like I'm using it. My soul, that is.)

I got interrogated by state troopers the other day about an accusation of sexual harassment. It was a little unnerving. I forgot to call the guy "sir." Darn it.

Today I found a used condom in a bed. It was really really gross. First time I've ever actually seen one, to be honest. Well, first time I've recognized one, anyway. Now I think about it, I want to say I've seen one before, but I might just be thinking of balloons.

Also, it's officially summer. Doing in-house today, and this guy came to the door in his underpants. Real nice guy, cute smile, very friendly... and very much in his undies. His rather tight undies. I'm fairly certain I didn't start to blush until after he closed the door, but after that, I think even my arms turned red, I blushed so bad.

Lots of, uh... interesting stuff going on lately, I guess. While we're on this topic, I may as well go ahead and rant a bit. I was reading a book called Fortune's Fool. It's by Mercedes Lackey. Very good book. So I'm reading it and going "Wow, I really like this book. This is a good one. I should recommend it to my friends. Oh... hello, unnecessary sex scene." Just out of the blue. Hello. I didn't really need to know all that. In the last year or so, I've gotten to the point where I can sort of handle sex scenes... to a point. But I really don't want to know all the details about what goes where and who bites what when. I really don't want to know that. So I'm skimming over it, trying to find where the scene ends and to my delight, it was exactly one page long, front and back. So I ripped out the page (it was my book) and the scene very nearly seamlessly went from page a to page c. Cool. Book's better now. It implies what they did, but at least doesn't go into detail. And it's a good book. So I'm reading further, going "Yay, good book!" when suddenly "Hello another unnecessary sex scene." This one was longer and I had to rip out a page and take a pen to a third of the next one. Like I said, I'm not as entirely squeamish as I used to be, but I really don't want to know what's in which position or just how fast they're going at it. I really really don't want to know. Really.

Why do so many people insist on randomly throwing in scenes like that into perfectly good books? The book would have been perfectly fine if the characters weren't screwing each other silly every few pages (especially since they're unmarried). There really isn't a point to it. And even if they are, do we have to know every detail about it? As my dad says, "I don't care what you do behind the bedroom door so long as I don't have to hear about it." It almost seems like people throw love interest into stories just for the sake of having it there. A lot of the time, they don't even really love each other, there's just this attitude of "You're a girl, I'm a guy, let's have sex."

Katy, my old English-major roommate, says sex in a story is symbolic of need. Screw that (no pun intended). I think people are just more likely to read a story that makes them feel slightly horny because a lot of people are naturally obsessed with sex. That and authors get giggles from writing crap like that. It bothers me, yes it does. I'm sure sex is nice and all in its place, but why does it have to be paraded all over creation like it is? Why can't we parade things like brushing our teeth instead? Cutting our fingernails, maybe. I can see it now... some hot, steamy, tooth-brushing scene, caressing the toothbrush, loving the toothbrush, feeling its bristles gently rubbing your gums, tasting the sharp sweetness of the toothpaste... okay, you guys, stop thinking dirty thoughts. I don't know what you're thinking, but stop. Honestly, what's wrong with you?