I'm with it, I'm hip. Tucka, tucka, tucka, tucka

News flash: I do not live in 2009.

Friday night, karaoke-ing in the Governor/Dobro household, I was shamed into admitting:
- I did not know the words or tune to Alicia Keys' "No one"
- I had no idea Blink 182 was still together and that they had come out with a new album of semi-depressing punk music (which isn't to say I don't like it)
- If it had been my choice of song in the public/privacy of their home, it would have been the Bangles' Walk Like an Egyptian (but I lost out to Roxette's Listen to Your Heart -- maybe the only other song I knew)

(side note: The people who designed the karaoke game, Lips, are some smart/tripped out people. In addition to the trailer being targeted at the bored-of-partying, the videos created to go with the songs - you can choose the "real" video or some cartoon mock up - are, seriously, for people on drugs only. I was sitting sober, listening to my friends break it down to John Denver's "Country Roads" while watching cartoon cobras lick and fight each other over vanilla ice cream cones that fell from the sky. It was....a little scary)

Now, who knows what year I actually live in, but there have been way too many pop reference moments lately that have gone over my head. I'm not going pretend I was always up on pop culture, but let's just say that in the Trivial Pursuit 90s game, I kick ass and take names.

Recently, Mrs. P told me that her husband has decided that is important to stay "hip" to pop culture so they are making an effort to do things like watch episodes of the new 90210 and talk about Hannah Montana (who, I have to admit, I didn't know about until she told me who it was -- I feel like Lisa Simpson in the Waverly Hills episode; does that TV reference but me any pop points?). But I'm not sure if I'm willing to go that far; I thought my interest in vampires (see prior post) was enough. Do I have to start reading US Weekly? (does US Weekly cover Hannah Montana?)

At the end, my brain's going to be worth two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That sounded horrible, didn't it? Bring me another maitai!

I'm about to go have a 2 or 3 martini lunch. F*ck it I say -- we're in a recession, there is limited amount of work I can bill, it's finally feeling like summer in NY (read: 90 something degrees. 134% humidity) and it's Friday.

I think I desrve my martinis for other reasons:
1) geometry scares me
2) sufficiency data problems are like reading swahili
3) I am pissed at my liberal arts education
4) I wish I was an engineer for like, just the next two months, with an engineer's brain and like, y'know, like smart
5) Wow, I'm talking as if I've alread had those martinis

The moral of the story is: Never talk to muffin trees.

Actually, the moral of the story is, standardized testing is making me feel stupid. I don't actually know how to solve for "if Fred leaves Florin at 95 mph and Tommy leaves Guilder, driving an average rate of 73 mph, what time do they meet at the Florin/Guilder border?"

(two points for anyone who gets the hidden movie reference)

Is he cute? Ask him if he wants to stay.

I have lost my Vegas virginity. I think it's somewhere on the pool floor of the Venetian.

So, all the movies that talk about Vegas and what happens in Vegas? All those movies are accurate. Well, excepting the whole acid trip thing from Fear & Loathing. Skipped that one...this time around. Honestly, its enough of an acid trip without chemical stimulation (not like I know what acid is like, please take note potential employers). Seriously, I had red hair. Like RED hair.


I've always wanted to be Rainbow Bright...

Your ego's writing checks your body can't cash

Twitter. Tweet. The Twizzle. Twitphilia. Twat. Twitching. Tweeple. Twitaphobia.

I now have a "handle" on Twitter. Ugh. I am more than sorta angry about it. But I was forced (no, seriously, forced) to sign up by Mr. Roadmonkey. Literally, dude went onto the site, made up some dumb name for me (Roadmonkey Girl? Do I look like the kind of chick that wants "girl" or "ette" on the end of anything? Do I dot my 'i's with small hearts? Hey, while your at it, buy me some pink stationery with "Steffie" at the top and put a bow in my hair....maybe will make it easier for you to hold when I puke on your shoes).

So, I've quickly become interested in the mass hysteria around "Twitter ruining civilization" and being only for megalomaniacs (since I, of course, as a self-deprecating blogger can not yet be counted as an egoist). Do I believe I am witty? Of course. Do I think I'm interesting? No. Should anyone other that the 6.3 people who read my blog have to be exposed to my inane ramblings, propensity for politically incorrect comments and toilet humor? Of course not. (AND I can't even do any of those things in Tweets because I represent a "brand" of "educated travellers" who "want to make a difference." Apparently, people who want to make a difference aren't allowed to make fart jokes.)

Which leads me to the question of the hour:
What the hell am I going to Tweet about?

Topics I've considered are as follows -- please email/FB/tweet/blog comment/text/call/fax/mail/sign language/write in snow any and all suggested additions:

- Wanting to hire a cleaning lady for my apartment that's the size of a small yurt

- Liking the word "yurt" and all stories associated with "yurts"

- Being slower than people pushing baby carriages while running

- Liking marshmallows....a lot

- My personal recipe for disaster: Agua de Valencia

- Is it quicker to Chicago or by bus?

- Food I missed the most while backpacking: Sushi

- Food I missed the most while living in Europe: Sushi

- The glory of the Stroopwaffel

- How much I hate Rachel Ray, for no reason

- The non-altruistic reasons I want to go to Brazil

- Singing in the shower

- Paper vs. plastic

- Appreciation for mandatory recycling

- How to get rid of fruit flies