One Month In

Number of movies seen:  10
Number of times dining out:  10
          *****For a take-out queen like myself, this is, like, wow. 
Number of pounds lost:  7
Number of books read:  5
Number of coupons clipped:  5
Number of fun future excursions planned:  4
          *****Stay tuned for future updates...
Number of workouts with Jillian:  3
Number of school projects completed:  3
Number of fabulous Broadway shows seen:  1

The Upstairs Neighbor

I think my neighbor may have been placed on this earth solely to torture and test me. 
Seriously, this guy is unbelievable.
I have written about said neighbor before, but last night/this morning/whatever time it was took things to a whole new level.
It appears my neighbor has discovered the joys of sex.
Awesome.
Way to go.
Congratulations.
Happy for you.
What-ev-er.
The more innocent of you out there may ask how I know this to be true.  I'll just put it like this:  it's like that episode of Friends where Phoebe is in Ross's apartment and, through the window, sees Monica and Chandler hooking up and screams out "My eyes!  My eyes!"
Except mine is like "My ears!  My ears!"
Why yes, you're right, it is disgusting.  (And rather disheartening, too, but that's off the subject at the moment.)
And here's the real clencher of it all:  aside from "all the sex" (another Friends reference, of course) there's also all the talking.
From a little after one until about six this morning, it was just blah... blah blah... blah blah blah blah...blah blah blah... blah blah, interrupted only by, well, you know, the aforementioned sex.
And for all that talking I could decipher hardly any of what they were saying.  Most of it sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher, and the little I could make out was something about dogs walking on their hind legs.
Totally idiotic.
It really comes down to this:
I couldn't care less what he does up there.  He can learn thai chi.  He can stick household objects up his nose.  He can count the revolutions of the fan blades.  He can whittle small horses from blocks of wood.  He can install a revolving door and let every girl in Oktibbeha county stream through.
It matters not to me.
If he would just. shut. up.
Honestly, and I shudder to even write this, but I think I could almost deal with the sex if all the other junk that constantly seems to be going on up there--the talking, the blasting of the music, the sounds I can only speculate on (moving furniture, perhaps?), the apparent learning of another language that, from what I can tell, involves him repeating phrases back to some sort of mechanical voice--was kept to a minimum.
Is that so much to ask? 
Am I being unreasonable and tyrannical?
Ugh, whatever.  I don't care.
It's 7:03, and I'm exhausted.
Wait... what is that I just heard?  Are you serious? 
After the sex and the talking and the talking and the sex, when they finally go to sleep... would you believe he's sawing logs up there, snoring so loud the people up the street at City Bagel can probably hear him?
Nice life.
Seriously, nice life.

Here and Now

Yes, this is still an operating blog. 
I've just been... uninspired.  Actually, not so much uninspired as just inspired to do other things besides blog.
More on that another day, though.
For now, I'm just reveling in the here and now.  And right now things are like this:
Yesterday I went to see Avatar, and was less than impressed.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I am perhaps the only human being, including those that make up the Hollywood Foreign Press and the Academy of Motion Pictures (you know... "I'd like to thank the Academy..."), who wasn't blown out of their chair by this movie.  Maybe my 3-D glasses were defective or something, but I just thought it was kind of dumb.  So... Avatar, thumbs down. 
Last night after coming home from the movie, I was ecstatic to find my new favorite show airing on repeat.  The show:  Criminal Minds.  I am so addicted it is not funny, which is why its so great that A&E plays the old seasons over and over again.  I'm slowly but surely getting all caught up and putting all the pieces together.  My favorite aspect of the show?  This guy:

He's this whiz kid who has something like three PhDs, and he's just as dorky as he looks.  I heart him.  So, Criminal Minds and Dr. Spencer Reid, thumbs up.

Today has been spent cleaning my apartment.  As in, that's what I've been doing since eleven o'clock this morning.  Although it had to be done, I could certainly have found a more fun way to spend the day.  Cleaning my apartment all day, thumbs down.

Because I cleaned my apartment all day, this dump is shining like the top of the Chrysler building.  (Note:  my apartment, albeit small, is not really a dump, per se; I just got carried away by my inner Miss Hannigan.)  Seriously, it is clean.  You could eat off the kitchen floor... or on a fan blade (yes, I dusted them)... or on the bathroom floor... or in the bathtub, for that matter.  (Who would want to do that, though?  Eating off the floor or in the bathtub, thumbs down.)  Anyway, having a squeaky, sparkling, fresh-smelling apartment, most definitely thumbs up.

So, I was supposed to go visit Katie this weekend in Oxford, and this visit was going to include a much-hyped Jersey Shore-themed house party.  (Y'all know my affinity for all things Jersey Shore.)  In the end, though, I had to take the route I hate sensible route and stay home, doing much-needed things like schoolwork and the aforementioned house cleaning.  Missing an amazing time with a great friend, thumbs down.

Wednesday night, however, I had a mucho fun dinner with some of my favorite hometown ladies to celebrate Summer's birthday.  I hadn't seem them in several weeks, so it was great to catch up with them.  There was storytelling, a little dishing, sushi, and, of course, laughing.  Laughing 'til you cry with people you've known forever, big, big thumbs up.

Music & Lyrics

I have adored Michael Buble since the moment I first knew of him.
Well, almost.
There was that time when Lindsey first mentioned his name to me, and I said he must be a tool because his name was ridiculous.  She also made it sound like all he did was play the piano, and I wasn't sure I was all about that.  I was an idiotic college sophomore at the time, however, so I don't really count that as my first meeting with Michael.  This whole side story is irrelevant, actually.
Anyway, I now truly adore Michael.
I own all of his cds; I have made my mother realize she loves him, too; I have seen him in concert.  His voice is totally dreamy, and he's pretty easy on the eyes, too.  Ah, swoon...

...And I'm sidetracked again.
Where was I?
Oh, yeah.  Michael.  Michael's music, rather.
Specifically, Michael's latest single, Haven't Met You Yet.
Have you heard it?  If you haven't, I would highly recommend taking a listen.  It's divine, really.
This song says perfectly what I have lately come to realize in my life, and it says it in an upbeat, positive manner, which is so the direction in which I'm trying to follow.
It's even better with the music, but here are the lyrics:

I'm not surprised
Not everything lasts
I've broken my heart so many times I've stopped keeping track
Talk myself in
I talk myself out
I get all worked up, and then I let myself down.

I tried so very hard not to lose it
I came up with a million excuses
I thought I thought of every possibility

And I know that someday it'll all turn out
You'll make me work so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, that I'll give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet.

I might have to wait
I'll never give up
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are
Whenever it's right
You come out of nowhere and into my life

And I know that we can be so amazing
And, baby, your love it gonna change me
And now I can see every single possibility

And I know that someday it'll all turn out
You'll make me work so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, that I'll give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet.

They say all's fair in love and war
But I won't need to fight it
We'll get it right and we'll be united

And I know that someday it'll all turn out
You'll make me work so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, that I'll give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet.


You may think it cheesy, but, for me, it rang true.  I believe he's out there, and, when God's timing is right, he'll fit into my life like a puzzle piece. 
For now, though, I'll just keep laughing through life.