"Was there an original thought to be thunk? Or was he forever doomed to be an emulator, or worse, a regurgitator? And if he was, so what? Doesn't every college sophomore majoring in English because they have no freaking clue what to do with their life know that disdaining the derivative is the height of unoriginality? More importantly, what was the likelihood that he could keep writing without landing on even one declarative sentence? And why did he use the idiot word "thunk"? Is he actually an idiot? Or is he wildly clever? Will we find out one day? Who knows? Who cares? Should he continue trying to write a blog when he has a raging flu and is so heavily intoxicated from a potpourri of over-the-counter cold medications that he keeps referring to himself in the third person?

Probably not."

Doing dishes makes me want to make brownies. It's a real circular problem.

I did dishes last night, making my breakfast of leftovers this morning both delicious and unhealthy.

Sigh. First Jewel Staite gets married, then Natalie Portman; now Kaley Cuoco is engaged. Life sucks.

Thank goodness Yvonne Strahovski and Emma Stone are waiting for me.

Time keeps flying by, and it's hard to get back into writing something every day...

But here is something I HAVE to share:

http://muchadothemovie.com/

My new favorite phrase: Going full frontal whack-a-doodle.

I can't wait to work professionally as a psychologist, just to put that down as someone's diagnosis.

"The idea that I am the first person to find your ignorance so unbearable, to the point I have to leave the room, is implausible to the point of absurdity."

"Wait, what?"

I do love me a random conversation with a hippie liberal every now and then, but I keep forgetting their rule about big words.

I have finally finished moving to Madison, which means I once again have time to blog. I spent the last couple months planning, and plotting, and possibly scheming; but now I am moved, and job hunting from a much shinier location.

So... what was it I am supposed to write about here again?

My new apartment is fairly nice, though it needs some furniture. A couch would be nice, since my old one was too fat to fit in the door (which is what I get for buying an American couch); stuff to make my guest bedroom more like a bedroom and less like a place I put crap I don't want cluttering up my room; and most importantly, a larger bed. The last because, as every girl who isn't my mother that has visited my apartment has told me, I'm not going to be getting any on a twin sized mattress. (Don't bother with a comment, the not getting any regardless joke is too obvious.)

I don't have any roommates, which is nice, but taking some getting used to. Despite enjoying it, I didn't cook much in my last couple living arrangements, because I'm too obsessive compulsive about needing a kitchen to be clean to cook in it, and too lazy to clean up a roommates dishes so I could. Of course, now I just feel dumb, cooking entire meals just for one person, and am too lazy to do so very often. It's a paradox. (a paradox, a most ingenious paradox. we've quips and quibbles heard in flocks, but none to beat this paradox.)

I spent a few days taking care of a friend of mine's dog. It was pretty much a perfect* dog. I think every girl I have ever dated needs to take lessons from this dog on being a good companion. Sad... but very true.

*I say "perfect", but I did hear rumor of her owner being forced to adapt a 1930's european style appeasement policy towards the little nazi in regards to clothes getting chewed on... but I don't believe it, I think it was just an excuse for her to leave old clothes laying around the floor of her house.