Changin' it up

A big smushy thank you goes out to all of you guys for the lovin' feelings. These past few weeks have just been so very assy for me, and I think the momentum of every depressing, disturbing, distressing, disastrous and/or dicked up thing that has happened in that time period has glopped them all together as a Giant Ball Of Assy, which plopped down upon my unsuspecting subconscious right around last night.

Sounds like fun, huh?

So, yeah, thanks for the cyber-hugs, which I know some of you pervs were trying to turn into cyber-fondles, but that is so not happening because I am not that kind of girl. Although I love you anyway.

Unfortunately, I cannot take all of your suggestions. For example, Teets and Matty recommended I go not-quite-criminally insane in an effort to get out of the Army for good.

Now, that would just not be right. It would require the entire abandonment of my ethics/morals, which I just can't comfortably do.

Plus, I've already researched the whole insanity angle, and it doesn't get you kicked out anymore -- they just give you pills unless you threaten to do anyone harm, in which case they lock you up. Nice try, though, dear ones!

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I watched the second Bridget Jones attempt yesterday after work and must say I have mixed opinions on it.

Yes, I know everyone else who cares to has already seen the movie, but I will talk about it because I CAN, DAMMIT! And also because I READ THE BOOK and can talk about it as a SNOOTY READER OF THE BOOK. So THERE.

Opinion 1: Renee Zellweger is really not that pretty, is she? I mean, good for her getting famous in spite of that, and she certainly spruced herself up a bit for Chicago, but as far as A-list celebrities go, she is the one who failed to dodge the ugly stick. Which makes her the perfect one to play Bridget Jones, who is supposed to be Not So Fetching As All That. But I don't think she needed to walk all bow-legged and waddly like that, I mean, what is she supposed to weigh, like, 130, 140? Last I checked, 140 doesn't make you lumber around like a pregnant mare.

Opinion 2: Although a few minor points from the book were kept in the movie, for the most part, the only similarities were the fact that the two shared a title. Therefore, I really can't compare any further, because it would be like comparing a chocolate pie to a chocolate cookie -- both edible, and tasty to those who like chocolate, but really nothing alike.

Opinion 3: Hugh Grant is really getting old! Holy shit! But I must admit, I prefer his asshole characters to his bumbling, shy, you-must-like-me-because-I'm-unsure-of-myself-oh-and-also-I-have-an-accent-so-don't-look-at-my-teeth characters.

And there we have it! The reason why I am not a movie critic.

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Apparently, I have quit smoking. I just woke up the other day and realized I had not smoked in nearly 24 hours, and then I went back to sleep.

I know! How weird, right? I'm never able to get back to sleep once I wake up!

Oh, and the smoking thing, too -- fucking crazy. I don't know how it happened. I just, you know, quit, inadvertently. I smoked one of my roommate's Marlboro Reds ("Reds: For when you really just want to die quickly!") this afternoon, and it was cool and all, but I haven't really wanted one since then.

Ha! Fuck you, Addiction! I blow my nose at you! And cough up my lung, while I'm at it!