Rather than bitch about my job or other stuff, like my job, I think I'll do more obsessive listy-ness.

The continuing list of things I'm mildly obsessed with:

Our new DVD player (which we like to call our DEEEVEEEDEEE player, because it sounds funny). OOooooh, how have we lived this long without one? It's one of those Black Friday sale jobbies, but man, it works just fine. The picture! The non-jumpy pause! (So perfect for porn! Not that I would know! Really!) The cool and random features like "zoom" and "angle"! Subtitles in French! It rules.

Still, the dishwasher. I'm newly impressed every time I pull some formerly dull item out to find it's been power-washed into shiny newness. The other day I was cooing over the brilliant gleam of our can opener, and Kenny, after also admiring its shine, started narrating our idiocy in the style of a nature documentary: "The Simpletons are continuously amazed with the shininess of common household objects. Their former habitat was much more rustic and they seem to take nothing for granted."

Natural disasters have also been fascinating me lately. I recommend everyone read "A Short History of Nearly Everything" by Bill Bryson. He writes in detail about the amazingly volatile nature of the earth we live on. Did you know, for instance, that Yellowstone park is one big roiling underground volcano? It apparently tends to blow in a big way about once every 600,000 years. The last time it happened? 630,000 years ago. Ha. If it blows, there goes the Midwest!

He also writes about earthquakes and asteroids smashing into the earth and all kinds of cool stuff, which was definitely on my mind last week when we had a freaking earthquake. Who knew we were on a fault line? It was pretty cool, other than the one fleeting second when I realized that there was nowhere safe to run and hide. It only lasted for a few seconds but it was a very strange feeling.

Cold Mountain, the movie. That Minghella fool better not mess it up, because I love the book. There was a sneak preview showing on Friday night, held at the circa 1928 movie theater where I used to work. I wanted to go, but then found out that premiere was a benefit for the The Virginia Historical Society and The Museum of the Confederacy. That means all those civil war reenactor types will be there and I just don't want to get involved with all that crap. Amusing side note: Cold Mountain actor Lucas Black (you know, he's the: Hey, it's that kid! from all the southern-themed movies.) apparently made a guess appearance at the preview. I almost wish I'd gone just for the chance to walk up to him and say "Ah laike tha way you tawlk!" or maybe "Whatcha got in that bag? Warsh?" Damn, Slingblade was a fine movie.

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Just in case you think I'm going soft and haven't been obsessively hating stuff too, here�s a list of crap that's been pissing me off lately:

Goddamn fucking Clay Aiken. The last time I checked, he LOST AMERICAN IDOL. Right? Yes? He lost? Then why the hell is he freaking everywhere? I'm so sick of looking at his weasly face that even Ruben would be a nice change. Ugh.

Remember up there how I said I loved our DVD player? Right, well if I love the player, I hate the remote. The remote makes me feel like I'm my mother- I stare at it for a long while, then put it down and walk over to the DVD player and push the "on" button by hand. This remote is some sort of cruel joke. It has approximately 560 tiny buttons, none of which make any damn sense. Some of them are labeled with two functions, just to make things stupider. Title/Ret.? 1/All? What the hell do these do? Also, the most used buttons, like "play" and "pause" are the SMALLEST ONES. How does that make any damn sense? I still haven't found the mythical "menu" button the directions keep telling me to push. Screw that shit. Remember back when cable TV was new and the remote was huge and clunky like that game Merlin? And it was attached with a long cord? Those were the days.

Christmas Cards are not going to happen this year. I just can't seem to get my shit together enough to care. So, uh, Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Here's a stamp!

And finally, the thing that's driving me the craziest. That Goddamn Disaronno commercial. If you watch Queer Eye you know the one I'm talking about. A group of yuppie fools at a bar, ordering unbelievably nasty drinks involving amaretto liquer. Disaronno martini! Disaronno Sour! Then, this creepy woman orders a Disaronno on the rocks (oh, that is so nasty) which apparently impresses the incredibly creepy bartender.

The voiceover is meanwhile talking about Disaronno's "warm and sensual taste" but I swear to God they actually say "warm and sexual taste". Anyway, she drinks her nasty drink and the bartender tries to take her glass. She shakes her head at him, paws a cube of ice out of her glass and sucks on it. God, I can't believing I'm even writing this. Then, in a moment of unsurpassed creepiness, the bartender, viewing her cube-sucking, gives her this slow, nasty, I've-got-a-hard-on, smile. Oh my GOD, it's so bizarrely nasty and I think I just grossed myself out by writing this. Ick.

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So that's it for now. My mouse hand is all frozen because our house is very cold and it's sleeting out and I want some coffee. Have a good Sunday all, and don't forget, the Survivor finale is on tonight!

6 chatty monkeys