10 random ramblings (and a partridge-rant in a pear tree)

1. Occasionally, I regret not asking a guy to Tolo. And then I remember how I felt right before Olot last year, and I realize that all of the guys who didn't get asked can just deal. I had to. I survived.

2. I desperately want a pair of bitch boots. Because dammit, BITCH BOOTS. I cannot properly express how much I want them. (All you lovely people out there who hate my guts, pool your money and buy me a pair this year on my birthday, and I promise to bake something yummy in return.)

3. I just saw Transformers, and it's sad how I love much any movie with lots of explosions, high-tech warfare, and a cheesy plot. Sometimes a girl needs a good chick-flick, but other times you just want to watch people (or robots) kick ass.

4. I love my puppy to pieces (hey, I did say these would be random ramblings). His name is Sirius, he's a German shepherd/Alaskan malamute mix, and he bites my friends because he's just a teensy bit protective. He weighs about 80 lbs, and is absolutely adorable.

5. As much as I want a pair of nice shoes, I've realized that the even most adorable shoes in the universe cannot compare to the feeling of wearing a trustworthy pair of running shoes. I love my shoes almost as much as I love my dog (almost).

6. Vintage clothes amuse me.

7. Clothes from Macy's amuse me more, mostly because I don't understand how anyone in their right mind would pay $150+ for a dress that makes you look like a Hershey's Kiss with boobs.

8. Why is it that hot male models never seem to have chest hair? Chances are the guys girls marry all have chest hair, back hair, and possibly even butt hair (ick), and yet the standard of male "beauty" is of a waxed, soulfully gazing 20-year-old man in nothing but khaki shorts. Double ick.

9. After shopping, my girly-self-esteem has informed me that I have several failings, not the least of which is my fashion-blindness. (This is very different from my sarcastic-self-esteem, which only really worries about being mean to people...and then realizes that it doesn't care anyways.) This lack, however, does not compare to the one listed in rambling number 10.

10. I have realized today that one of the major flaws in my life is that I have no idea what a fedora is.

And now for something completely different, as I remembered this as something that required venting midway through the list of ramblings.

I am so done with religious fanatics. I have had it up to here with people telling me that they are very Christian and that MY religion matters to them. Because honestly, let's think a minute here. They are Christian. I am not. And this matters because apparently, random strangers on the street care if I go to Hell, but they can't see that I'm trying to cross a goddamn street and would really prefer not to miss the light. Hell can wait. I don't mind people having religion. My grandparents are religious, my mother and sister are semi-religious, and I've met some very nice people who follow their religions quite devoutly. BUT. The next person who tells me to repent my sins is going to have their signs and their nice little "Jesus is here" posters ripped into shreds and made into coffee.

The way I see things, if I don't believe in Hell, I can't go there because I am in stout denial that it exists. I don't really believe in Heaven either, so I'm assuming after I die, I'm just going to GO AWAY. Oh horror. Excuse me, Mr. Televangelist, if I'm not falling to my knees in terror. And since I've just pointedly bashed Christianity a bit, let me explain: I don't mind Christianity. I mind the uber-Christians. And since I meet more uber-Christians than I do uber-Muslims or uber-Hindus, I bash uber-Christians more. And now that I've completely over-used the word 'uber', which is just the weirdest word in the world when you look at it, I'm going back to my homework.



Uber.

Tsubaki