Help, I'm at work and have nothing to do!

I can't focus!  I've done all the task that are the least bit interesting or demanding, but all the little stuff is just  beyond my ability to concentrate on.  But who cares about work?  You want to read about my tawdry weekend, don't cha?
So this Saturday begin my week long job of dog and house sitting.  It's always fun to be in someone else's home without them there.  Especially if they have made an investment in a nice bed and a great sound system.  And a fireplace in the bedroom.  Anyway I spent the weekend alone, M went to visit her kin, which means I spent hours watching TV and drinking.  I got to watch Seven, that was nice.  I also got to watch HBO's Real Sex 4.  It was great, the whole thing was from '91, it was a lesson in following trends more than anything else.  The tip off that this documentary was not from this decade was the blond hair.  The frizzy, big, Totally Hair Barbie, kind of blond hair. And the clothes, shoulder pads galore, plenty of neon, women actually wearing one piece bathing suits, the people in lose t-shirts, not the elegant slim fit ones we have today.  Oh, and overalls.  The show wasn't the least bit titillating, or titillatin' as I would say. I think it seemed so tame because I live in the age of the internet, where hostesses, upon running out of ways to entertain, resort to subjecting their guest to eel porn.  Maybe the Taschen books have ruined the simple blond, tan, snub nosed 1990s strippers of the world for me?  No, that can't be it.
Anyway, suffice to say that I spent my weekend doing nothing.

I knew this would happen! I just knew it!

People have discovered the art of hacking road signs.  But should just write them off as pranksters or view them as the "crazies" that everyone should have listened to at the beginning of the movie?

L'envie, l'ennui

J'ai l'impression que ma tête va exploser. Je suis une femme, je suis soif de sang, que la bête qui se cache au sein de la jeune fille. Je ne pense pas que je puisse jamais revenir en arrière que d'être fille.  Merci docteur.

There is nothing quite as a satisfying as mutilating the grammar of a foreign language.  Except maybe mangling ones native tongue.

How I get to work

A girl can dream, can't she?

By Mareike Auer.  Look up her stuff, she sells really cute keychains.  

Urban Decay has Spring looks!

I think I'll wear cat fight  to work.   Apparently the look for spring is all out war between the lips and the eyes.  All but one of the looks, cat fight, has bright lips vs. bright eyes.  That's why it wins out as my day time, at the office make-up.  I wish I could post a picture of this, please check out the link.
The spring looks are a part of their new cream eyeshadow line, which I would love to buy all of, but at $17 bucks a pop, I think I might just sticking my shadow with Vaseline.  Or should I say "vaseline", since it came from the 99 cents store.  But let us gaze on what I cannot have...

And the colors that I really, really want

Grass

Asphalt

Radium

Weeds

Incase you should read this before V-Day, M, I want one.  We're spending the day apart, maybe as a part of a new tradition, M in another county, me, babysitting finicky dogs.  I wonder if we really could pull this off every year?

How did I feel over the weekend?

Sick, again!

Yes I'm sick again.  Not the lady (read bloody, bloody period) kind of sick, but sore throat, stuffy and running at the same time nose, fever-y kind of sick.  For the entire weekend, and Monday too (I had too miss work), I wore the same nightgown and had fever induced nightmares.  Which leads me to the heart of this post, zombies.
Yes, I've become lax in zombie preparedness,  so now I've gone back to having nightmares about them.  Sure it could be the non-stop horror movie fest I indulged in over the weekend, but I prefer to think that it's my subconscious reminding me that I need to prep for the inevitable.