Happy Halloween to you all. I am currently sitting behind the circulation desk at work wearing a black cape and witches hat. And being particularly non-productive (or is it unproductive? For some reason me and the words ain't so goodly these days.). Oh well. Everyone deserves a little slack-a-thon every once in awhile, right? (Notice that my witchy superpowers include the ability to justify laziness to myself.)
On tonight's Mystery Halloween Library Theatre: The Case of the Wayward Panties:
the reference librarian has just found a pair of black underwear on the floor in front of my desk. Since I had no idea they were there, apparently they belong to a very absent-minded ninja.
Hmm... about that great big update I promised. It's sitting prudishly on my computer refusing to give up the funny. So I won't torture you all with my tedious 'Dear Diaries'. Needless to say, I've been pretty busy with school. Which I don't actually mind. This is the first time I can remember starting the year and not counting the weeks until the end of the semester. I'm going to be kind of sad when it's over, since I really like the people in my lab class.
So what have I been doing in my state of academic bliss? Well, working my tail off, (actually reading my textbooks!) staying after class to put in extra time in the kitchen, thus ingratiating myself to my instructors forever. (You can call me Captain Keen). Oh, and developing a shamefully school-girlish crush on one of my teachers. This seems exceedingly ridiculous in a 24-year-old. What is it with me and older men who teach me things? (Please control your gag reflex, by older I mean 35 or so.) The other day he spent about 45 minutes after class asking me about my internship plans and giving me advice about the industry based on his own experiences. How amazing is that? I'll move on before this really deteriorates into out-and-out hero worship. It's just cool to have a mentor, is all I'm saying.
That's about the whole ball of wax, unless you count me indulging in the Alfred Hitchcock marathon that's been on Turner Classic Movies the past week. Caught most of my favorites. In my opinion, the best Hitchcock movies are as follows (and they all have Cary Grant in them. Coincidence? I think not.):
1. To Catch a Thief Hilarious. Cary Grant is a retired cat burglar who gets drawn back into the game with a mysterious femme fatale, played by Grace Kelly.
2. Notorious. Cary Grant as a government agent sent to persuade a traitor's daughter (Ingrid Bergman) to go undercover. Ineivitable love affair and danger ensues.
3. North by Northwest Cary Grant is a millionaire playboy drawn against his will into a government investigation. Along the way he is seduced and betrayed by Eva Marie Saint.
There you go. Three brilliant who-dunnits to fill your next idle weekend.
Oh, and I had an awesome time at my best friend's wedding reception this weekend. Costume ball + great food + open bar= fun for Lisa. Isn't it funny how much easier dancing gets the more you drink? We ended the night on the dance floor, completely pissed, pledging our eternal devotion to eachother between old Violent Femmes songs. My friends and I get rather sentimental when drunk. So if any of you end up indulging in a gin and ginger with me some evening, don't be surprised to leave with a bolstered sense of self-esteem, or the vague inkling that I might be lookin' to sink your battleship. (I just made that up. Today's game has been to come up with progressively more ridiculous euphemisms for sex. I'm quite proud of that one.)
Take it easy
On tonight's Mystery Halloween Library Theatre: The Case of the Wayward Panties:
the reference librarian has just found a pair of black underwear on the floor in front of my desk. Since I had no idea they were there, apparently they belong to a very absent-minded ninja.
Hmm... about that great big update I promised. It's sitting prudishly on my computer refusing to give up the funny. So I won't torture you all with my tedious 'Dear Diaries'. Needless to say, I've been pretty busy with school. Which I don't actually mind. This is the first time I can remember starting the year and not counting the weeks until the end of the semester. I'm going to be kind of sad when it's over, since I really like the people in my lab class.
So what have I been doing in my state of academic bliss? Well, working my tail off, (actually reading my textbooks!) staying after class to put in extra time in the kitchen, thus ingratiating myself to my instructors forever. (You can call me Captain Keen). Oh, and developing a shamefully school-girlish crush on one of my teachers. This seems exceedingly ridiculous in a 24-year-old. What is it with me and older men who teach me things? (Please control your gag reflex, by older I mean 35 or so.) The other day he spent about 45 minutes after class asking me about my internship plans and giving me advice about the industry based on his own experiences. How amazing is that? I'll move on before this really deteriorates into out-and-out hero worship. It's just cool to have a mentor, is all I'm saying.
That's about the whole ball of wax, unless you count me indulging in the Alfred Hitchcock marathon that's been on Turner Classic Movies the past week. Caught most of my favorites. In my opinion, the best Hitchcock movies are as follows (and they all have Cary Grant in them. Coincidence? I think not.):
1. To Catch a Thief Hilarious. Cary Grant is a retired cat burglar who gets drawn back into the game with a mysterious femme fatale, played by Grace Kelly.
2. Notorious. Cary Grant as a government agent sent to persuade a traitor's daughter (Ingrid Bergman) to go undercover. Ineivitable love affair and danger ensues.
3. North by Northwest Cary Grant is a millionaire playboy drawn against his will into a government investigation. Along the way he is seduced and betrayed by Eva Marie Saint.
There you go. Three brilliant who-dunnits to fill your next idle weekend.
Oh, and I had an awesome time at my best friend's wedding reception this weekend. Costume ball + great food + open bar= fun for Lisa. Isn't it funny how much easier dancing gets the more you drink? We ended the night on the dance floor, completely pissed, pledging our eternal devotion to eachother between old Violent Femmes songs. My friends and I get rather sentimental when drunk. So if any of you end up indulging in a gin and ginger with me some evening, don't be surprised to leave with a bolstered sense of self-esteem, or the vague inkling that I might be lookin' to sink your battleship. (I just made that up. Today's game has been to come up with progressively more ridiculous euphemisms for sex. I'm quite proud of that one.)
Take it easy
posted by lisal8 at 3:42 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home