There is no pun that's not been overused already.

Goodbye social life, hello Vitamin D deficiency! I just bought a Wii!

Y'know how they're impossible to find? Well I have a friend who works at Pokemon, a connection I never thought I'd have use for, but he called Nintendo World and name dropped for me, so they held a Wii today for me to get at lunch! I got Zelda: Twilight Princess, Super Paper Mario, and most importantly, Harry Potter! I used to be scared my neighbors would hear me having sex and think I was gross, but NOW all they will hear is "REDUCTO! STUPIFY!" and especially "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" because I am Ginny Weasley.

But seriously. Srsly. My friend just told me you can buy old Nintendo games for super cheap because the Wii automagically finds your wireless internet connection. You can even check the weather! I really hope they have Bubble Bobble because Lord knows I haven't heard that inane theme song enough billion times in my life. I will also buy Tetris because Nintendo Tetris is the only version worth anything.

Busty the Vampire Slayer

Speaking of celebrity racks, let's take a look at the cover for the long-awaited (for me, at least) Issue #5 of the Buffy Season 8 comic. The entire issue is devoted to a decoy Buffy, which is why the figure is pulling her skin off. Most unsavory.

But ok, back on topic. Do you not find hilarious the rip in her top revealing a glimpse of Buffy underboob? What's that all about?

I don't read a lot of comic books. In fact, if you don't count The Sandman series, I've read exactly 4, and I bet you can guess what they are. (Hint: We're discussing #5.) Yet, I still am hyper-aware of all the ridiculous boob-enhancing outfits those impossibly thin superchicks vacuum seal themselves into. And is this really necessary with our Buffy, who may I remind you was created as a symbol of feminism?

I'm not offended because I don't effing care about exploiting Buffy. It's just kinda funny.

But what does bother me is that... ok... we're dealing with a seasoned warrior who has kicked the ass of every demon she has faced for 9 years. Are you honestly telling me that homegirl ain't wearing a spors bra? I'm not a girl or a fighter, but it seems obvious that if you're gonna be punching and running and being thrown across the room, you're gonna want a little support.

Am I wrong?

My Morning: Digest Version

• As anyone who follows my Twitter account well knows, today I am having delicious white cheddar cheese and some moist banana bread for breakfast.
• I can already tell this is going to be one of those Fridays where I don't get anything done. Here's an embedded list to examine why:
  • I took forever to go to the store and cafe to get all my delicious food that I now have to write about.
  • The pile of work sitting next to me is so boring and dry, and just looking at it makes me barf up cotton balls.
  • When an idea pops into my head like "I should stay home sick tomorrow" or "I don't want to do anything today" I ALWAYS carry it out, even if it's just a passing notion. And this time it's in writing.
• In Harry Potter news, someone else has finally noticed that J. K. Rowling has a lovely set of... Weasley twins. This is perhaps the last thing you cared to read about, but you need to appreciate it a LITTLE because I had to disable the library's sex filter to find the link so now the entire IT department probably thinks I spend all day looking at celebrity boobs.
• Reinforce your pelvic bones, boys, soon my ass will be made of rocks! I had another great workout yesterday except for the time when I had trouble descending the stairs to the locker room because I had done so many squats.

Ok, that's all. I'm gonna go daydream about video games.

I am a buff mountain man

I did it! I went to the gym yesterday at 3:30ish and it was toto empty and I had the greatest workout ever! It was fun, and there were still some sexy guys around, but it didn't bother me because they seemed like good people. The kind of people who understand that everyone has to start somewhere.

Plus, no matter how stupid I looked, there was a guy there who looked stupider, and I could see other people looking at him like an idiot. He was really beefy and into himself, and he kept flexing in the mirror, and when he would lift, it was all stuff that was way to heavy for him, so it was all GRUNT, UNNNNGH, AAAAAAAH, ONE! And he'd count out loud to make sure we all knew how good he was. I was kinda hoping he would drop something on his foot, but he didn't.

Then this douchebaggy, chubby Korean kid decided to bask in his reflected manhood and started talking to him about sports, but it didn't work, he didn't look any manlier.

Anyway, back to how awesome I am. You wouldn't believe it because I even had no trouble doing my triceps kickbacks. Those are always the last thing I do on arm day, and I get really nervous for them because I'm tired by then and I suck at the exercise as it is because I have no triceps muscles and also sometimes I fall down. But yesterday I was like WHOOSH and I did them all no problem! It was incredible, I looked in the mirror and thought "Whoa, didn't that guy star in Troy??? Oh, no wait, that's just me."

Anyway don't be jealous that I look like this:

and you look like this:

Today is legs and butt day.

Iron

Yesterday I was sitting at home at 8:45, and I realized I hadn't been to the gym since Jesus died (I let myself go in my grief) and I'm not sure how it happened, but I just got up, got dressed, and went to work out.

I was especially excited on the way over because I figured since it was 9:00, the place would be pretty empty. So la ti, I got there and the C/V area was actually kinda busy, but I worried not because it's always like that, even at 6:00 a.m. when there's nobody on any other floor. I found a machine because I like to run for about 5 minutes on a treadmill just to warm up before I lift, but there happened to be this REALLY beautiful and built man on my personal TV, so I used him as motivation and ended up running until 9:30 when the show ended. It was pretty cool. He was blonde and wearing a blue shirt and was in a gorgeous house, so if any of you know what show that is, please TiVo it for me next time it's on.

Right. So after my extended warm-up, it was time to head upstairs to hit the weights. Ok, there are two weight rooms. Maybe three, really. One is for girls. The other is for girls. I would love to work out in one of those, but neither have free weights heavy enough. So I have to work out with the boys, and at 6:00 in the morning when I've been there in the past, there are only a couple boys, and it's been cool. Last night, I was excited for there to be ZERO boys because it was so late at night, but there were THOUSANDS of them!

They were all over! Sitting on every bench, lifting every weight, hanging from things! It was like nothing I had ever seen before except this one really outrageous orgy scene on the internet once. And even in that, they were all skinny Bel Ami men. These were Falcon men. They were Titan men. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of them actually battled Hercules.

This is one of those reasons I hate being gay. Do you know what it's like for something to be so intimidating, yet so arousing? People in there actually saw me come in because I stood out so bad. I had to leave, I was way to embarassed to work out. There was one guy against the wall doing HANDSTAND PUSH-UPS! You can't expect me to push my ego aside when there's that kind of Cirque du Soleil bullshit going on!

On the way home, I decided exactly who I was going to talk to and say "You need to make fun of me, I just chickened out at the gym." Luckily, he was online. He came through, called me a "puss." I chose him because I knew he'd use that word or something like it.

Anyway, so I went to bed and set my alarm for extra early because I'm going to try something new. I didn't feel like going to the gym super-early today, so I came to work at 7:00, which is the earliest I've ever been here. This means I can leave at 3, and I'm going to see if the gym isn't less crowded then. Because honest to Pete, I don't think I can handle another overwhelming experience like last night. All I need is a month or two of near-solitary weight lifting. Once I can lift an amount befitting a... what's the word.... male, I'll be totally at ease among the other... males.

I don't know what my problem is, but none of you are allowed to say anything to me because you're all the same way.

I am back

I read Deathly Hallows last weekend, obvs. I finished it Sunday night and SPOILER ALERT I didn't like it. END SPOILER ALERT

But the more I think about it and listen to people talk about it, the less disappointed I become. This is the same thing that happened to me with Half-Blood Prince, which I totally hated the first time around. Yet I still feel that this last book was the weakest of the series.

That's all I'm going to say because I don't want to ruin anything for anyone, but I do have to mention the fact that Jo Rowling STOLE my word and totally owes me a billion dollars. All her characters keep saying "effing" as in "Voldemort is so effing rude" or "That is the ugliest effing horcrux I've ever seen" and that's totally MY thing to say, and I know because I stole it from Mean Girls.

In other news, I've spent the past hour daydreaming about what would probably be the most fierce and amazing TV show/book series EVER to exist, and after paying billions of dollars for the rights, I'm going to create it. It's called Hermione the Vampire Slayer and none of you can steal my idea.

Aren't you glad I'm writing in my blog again? I have so much to offer.

Out to Lunch

I'm on a sort of internet sabbatical. There are other things I want to be doing these days both in and out of work, and there's no use forcing myself to do the blog thing (reading and writing) because none of it would come out right. My muse has left me. But I will be back soon, mostly like on Sunday to cry over the new Harry Potter book.

That said, I still obsessively check my stats because I am lame like that. And I wanted to share my top five incoming searches for the past 7 days because I think they provide a nice self-portrait. They are, in order:

1. beautiful men
2. hot gay men
3. ginny weasley
4. attractive men
5. candyland

And I guess that pretty much sums me up.

KT Tunstall @ Highline Ballroom

Last night I schlepped my ass over to the Highline Ballroom again for the KT Tunstall concert. You will kindly recall that I went there about a month ago for a Pipettes concert. It's a nice space. Clean, friendly, well-ventilated, neat balcony area, overpriced bar, fun colored lights. As far as New York performance spaces go, this is one of them.

As far as KT goes, well... First of all, she was late. An hour late, a whole hour! And the Ballroom was playing some pretty shitty music while we stood there. Luckily, the boy to my right was super cute and all alone, so I mostly passed the time daydreaming about inviting him over to stand with me. I'm not sure who's fault it was that everything was behind, but considering some guy was still screwing around with microphones and guitars 40 minutes after the show was supposed to have started, I'm going to assume it was somebody's.

Then KT got on stage, sang some songs, left, came back, sang some more songs, and left again.

And that's really all there is to say. It was a solid set. The songs from her upcoming album are entertaining and kind of taking her in a new direction. One of them even made me want more beer.... y'know, instead of a nonfat latte. So that's on the list. The first single from the album is the best one, but I can't remember what it's called. Oh, and she had a thousand more musicians behind her than I expected. A SEXY guitarist, a drummer, a keyboard/trumpet/garbage-lid guy, two girl backup singers I wouldn't have noticed if they weren't introduced, and a bass/cello guy. I was nervous she would sound... I dunno... overdone... but it worked!

The concert felt short, probably because there was no opening act. I was also in a sort of zone and just went with it. Anyway, I was pleased. There's my million-dollar review.

Now, a note about taking pictures at concerts and how impossible it is: It's impossible! Well, for me. I have a regular person cheap camera, no photographer skillz, no idea what the camera functions do, and a serious aversion to using a flash because it a) flattens images and makes them all fake and b) negates all the cool colored stage lights. So I was a little bit back from the stage playing with settings, zooming in, and doing my best. I took 116 pictures. I was able to salvage 25 of them in Photoshop, and they're still all blurry and grainy, but some of them have bright colors, so I'm fine with it. I guess. Here's a selection. You decide:

If you want to see the rest, here's the link to the set. The thumbnails make them look awesome, it's the actual-sized versions that have problems. I bet with a better camera and maybe a class I'd be a fab photographer. Anyone got $1,000?

Hey, I wonder if that guy I linked to last time when he reviewed the Pipettes concert was at this one....checking.... He was! Ok, read his review at Music Snobbery too because he knows actual things about music and though some of his pictures may SEEM the same as mine, they have actual quality in them. Oh, and based on the angle of these shots and recognizing him from the Pipettes concert (it's easy to tell because he has a nice camera), I totally know who this guy is and he doesn't know me. I feel like a perv.

Today At Lunch

During lunch this kid on the street in a bright yellow shirt stopped me in the cutest way, and he was really friendly and really hot. He had perfect hair and perfect teeth and I could tell he worked out. He was 19, which is perhaps a little young for me, but I've been known to make exceptions in extreme cases like this one. We talked about my work and how he's a student who is sadly out of money and has to quit his job at the end of the week and move back home for the rest of the summer until the semester begins. His name is Alberto and he's originally from Equador, though he had no accent. It doesn't get much sexier than that.

So we were talking for about 10 minutes, but I only half heard what he was saying because I was rendered temporarily deaf by his killer forearms and green eyes. As a result, now I'm saving the life of a kid in Egypt for just a dollar a day.

At least when my penis starts using my credit card, it makes the world better.

Take this pink ribbon off my eyes

Hi welcome back, where've you been, anyway first I need to tell you about this girl--this drunk girl--that I met last night.

So I was standing in this shitty karaoke bar that I hate now, and I was talking to Mark, probably about how we hated the place, and this girl comes up to us fascinated and says "Are you two together?" So we respond with an emphatic "NO, no, not at all" and explained that I used to be with Brian (Mark's brother who was standing RIGHT there) and then she compared us to Justin and Britney even though we just told her we were not dating.

I asked her which of us was Britney, y'know as a joke. Without hesitation, she said to me "You are!"

Ok listen. First of all, Pop Culture 102: Justin and Britney? Not even. Also, Britney Spears is a deranged pig in a wig, and I am nothing like her.

But I didn't say that. Anyway, then she told us that I was pretty and Mark was cute, so I forgave her. Then she made another comment about us being together, even though I was pretty sure we covered that topic to death.

Then at one point she turned to me and just stared. It was like somebody switched her off, she was just standing there motionless looking at me. So I said "What?" and she puts her hand on my shoulder in that drunk person way and slurs to me "Y'know... I don't know a lot about gay guys.... but you're a girl!"

If that didn't strike me as so funny, I would have been offended. I wasn't, though, so I put on a mask of righteous indignation and said "WHAT? I'm not a girl!" and looked down my pants to emphasize the point (not in a visible way, I'm not some sort of flasher perv.) She explained that she simply meant I was pretty... like a girl. So I guess it was a compliment.

Then I remembered that people tell me this ALL THE TIME. CONSTANTLY! The only celebrities I get compared to are girls (Britney Spears, Tina Fey, Katie Holmes, UMA THURMAN) and men who wear makeup (David Bowie, Boy George, Marilyn Manson).

In conclusion, I defy gender barriers, which I guess is pretty neat, but I still wait for the day when someone compares me to an actual dude.

To My Underpants

Alright, Underpants, I'm warning you! You tricked me into thinking your luck had kicked in by causing there to be two delicious chocolate cupcakes waiting at the lunch place for Deb and me, but when we went to eat them, they were overbaked! And then I bit my lip and was bleeding.

I shouldn't get so angry. Perhaps you are doing your best, Underpants. When I put you on this morning, I noticed there was a slight tear in the seam of the elastic band because I am such a cow. I know that must be really difficult to cope with, so I'm not mad. And I still have faith that you'll come through eventually. You have 10 good hours left before I strip you off, crawl into bed, and evaluate my day. Hopefully we can put this all behind us.

I meant this to be whimsical, but I started bitching again, sorry...

C'mon, Lucky Spiderman Underpants! Do your stuff!

Today I am wearing my Lucky Spiderman Underpants, my favorite article of clothing upon which I have just bestowed the honor of capital letters. When I wear my Lucky Spiderman Underpants (not to be confused with Lousiana State University) everything goes well all day! Today, they are failing me.

First, I had trouble getting out of bed, which, to be fair, is not the fault of the LSU because I was not wearing them at the time. Then I stepped on my cat's tail, which I suppose we will also not blame on the shortcomings of the LSU because neither my cat nor I were wearing them then either.

But since dressing: 1) I ripped a page in my book because I turned it too strongly (I don't know my own power) and 2) we had another morale-boosting impromptu meeting with my boss, this time about how "certain people" have been telling him some of us "abuse" our break and lunch privileges. First of all, certain people is so obviously this one guy, and you could tell because 1) he looked awkward when this was being said and 2) he has no social skills and he knows it.

Ok, maybe it's not that one guy, that's not really fair to assume. (Lots of unfairness and misappropriation of blame today, have you noticed?)

The point is, we all hate our jobs. We all hate the way things are handled around here. Morale is at an all-time low, and now we're being hounded about a problem that isn't real. Fine, maybe I take 30-minute breaks instead of 20 sometimes. Maybe one day I'll go to lunch at 1 and the next day at 1:15. Am I the fucking Productivity Anti-Christ? Am I missing crucial 2:15 impromptu meetings where other pressing matters like this are discussed? I submit that I am not.

I also submit that the biggest hit to my productivity in the past 6 months has been due to me hating my job. When I'm in a good mood, I'll put on a podcast and WHOOSH I just cataloged the entire library. Today, I am in a shitty mood, as I usually am at work these days. Today, it is more like WHOOSH I just cataloged another negative emotion for my psychological archive, drew an inspirational post-it, wrote in my blog, called my mom to bitch about things to her, wrote an e-mail to my librarian friend to share the frustration, and maybe got around to some work by accident.

Why is it so difficult for management to realize their employees are people, and people work best when they're allowed to do things their way and not treated like naughty children?

Now if you'll excuse me, my Lucky Spiderman Underpants and I are 3 minutes late for lunch, and I would hate to be one of the reasons this library system is falling apart at the seams.