Lesbian Cookies

Ok, so this is a short addendum to last week's feminist rant to warn you about cookies turning women into independant thinkers. It must be stopped. Read here.

Lesbian cookies really are the last straw. Can't hetereosexuals keep anything for themselves? (100% kidding.)

Abortion cookies? Sounds nicer than "Plan B."

In other disjointed and unrelated news...

NERD TV ANNOUNCEMENTS:

1. Sherlock just announced they're coming back in January. Steven Moffatt is second only to Joss Whedon in writing and direction.

2. The 50th Anniversay of Doctor Who which includes my beloved 10th Doctor is going to be shown in select theaters in 3D. Since I don't know anyone in Denver nerdy enough to go with me, I'll have to go alone... or I'll probably forget to go anyway and have to watch it online because I can't ever remember when things are happening.

3. Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D is fucking awesome. Joss Whedon. I'm terrible at watching TV when it's on -- instead preferring to watch a series in its entirety 7 years after everyone else is done talking about it -- but this is deserving of my full and current attention. If I could remember when and what channel it's on... It's a mix of all your favorite Joss alumnus actors, Avengers' B-squad characters, and a host of new not-exactly-super-heros for you to love and hate. There's some cheese, but it's quality sci-fi and is giving me an Agent-Coulson-themed girl-boner.

UNRELATED THINGS I'VE LEARNED:

1. The day your internet dies, you will find yourself sobbing somewhere. It might not be about the internet, but that will be the last straw.

2. If you're going to continue to rest your glass of <insert beverage... probably wine> on the couch instead of putting it back on the coffee table, you're going to end up with a wine stain. Why do you keep doing that? You...

3. Instead of taking off your wrinkled shirt, turning on your iron and going about that business when you're already late for work, just use the flat iron you probably already have on for your hair. It's fast and it only hurts a little (lot) when you accidentally let the lava-hot fabric touch your skin again.

4. If I paint my nails while on boring converence calls, I pay way more attention. I'm serious. Otherwise I read Facebook. Plus, Bonus: Pretty nails next time I'm in the office.

MORE THINGS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING ELSE IN THIS POST:

1. I purchased a new outfit for running now that it's getting colder. Black pants, black jacket. I'm thinking of getting a ski mask and running in the neighborhood after dark just to see how many rides "home" I get from the police. Typically when I'm at my furthest point I wish I had a ride anyway. If I just linger near someone's garage I'll get a free ride, right?

2. Last night I dreamed that WC was the substitute instructor in my Barre class. He played a song that was basically an indie-rock cover of the chicken-dance song and when I giggled, a hipster dude wearing eyeliner and skinny jeans got up in my grill about making fun of his favorite band. I almost resorted to violence in a class called "Ballet Body." I need a dream therapist.

And probably a day-therapist again, too, since I'm still indignant like a hipster really did give me shit vs my brain made up the whole thing.

3. I think a coworker was hitting on me the other day, but I'm not really smart enough to recognize these things. This is someone I don't chit-chat with but he popped up on IM with "Hey...How are you?" People ask me this all the time and then follow up with "Can you please <insert annoying thing that takes hours to complete>." So I gave my standard "I haven't exploded yet." He kept trying to engage me. I kept waiting for the "Can you..." and eventually he left the conversation.

I told WC about this like "Jeff was being SO weird today. Why would he do that?" To be filed under "THINGS I SHOULD ALREADY KNOW": Don't tell the dude you're dating from the office that someone else from the office is hitting on you because then the dude you're dating will call the other dude your boyfriend and make fun of you relentlessly. Also, learn to recognize strangled flirting in others. As someone inept at flirting, it is imperative to recognize my own kind... if only to avoid it.

IN CLOSING, I like songs with clapping. I don't know why. (Sorry it's just the song and someone's pictures of the bands.)