FYI, if you ever get a chance to install web tracking for your blog, or if you already have tracking, take a moment every now and then to check out the various search engine keywords people are being linked to your site with.  In my case, strangers usually come across my blog during searches for Escaflowne related characters or yaoi content due to my obsessive posting on those two subjects when I was a teenager.  Sometimes I get some peculiar hits though (the anonymous individual who found my site once by Googling "vegetables in ass" comes to mind.)

These are a few of the weirdest search terms I've noticed over the recent month:

"scream into the sheep"
I'm actually the first result that comes up when you type this in Google.  It's a bit of a relief since I was a little wary of what sort of obscure and potentially disturbing subject matter this could have been associated with...  *Sweatdrop*

"close up of sexy wine glass"
I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume this person was actually searching for sexy women holding wine glasses and doesn't in fact have some bizarre glassware fetish.  "Oh daaamn, look at the rim on that one, boy would I like to stroke that baby's slick stem all the way down to--" STOPPING NOW.

"friiiiiiiiiday i like friday"
Hey, ME TOO.  I like this one because the individual was so obviously and ridiculously happy about the end of the week that they felt the need to so clearly articulate their joy in the form of a Google search.  I bet you they were actually doing a little happy dance when they typed this.

"lotsalesbians"
Seriously, what blog entry have I made in the past that could have wound up in what I'm sure is a Google page full of lesbian porn sites?  I notice that they neglected to leave out the space between "lotsa" and "lesbians" -- what, is this a licensed brand name now?  Did I miss the Lotsalesbians DVD release party?

"gherkin jokes"
Interesting.  This one I feel compelled to check out for myself.  *Googles*

There was a young lad named Herkin
who was always jerkin his gherkin
His mother said “Herkin,
stop jerkin your gherkin,
your gherkin’s for ferkin, Herkin!

Hm.  I've heard better.

Mood: Content

Wow, I haven't posted in a while. This is no doubt a result of a) realizing that despite how many of my projects and hobbies revolve around the internet and computer, I really do sort of hate modern technology most of the time; and b) nothing very interesting has been going on in my life lately to blog about.

On a some what hypocritical note of my opinion regarding computers above, I was very excited recently to receive a new (at least for me) gift in the form of my sister's old G4 iBook. The closest I've ever come to owning my own laptop has been when I "borrowed" my Dad's Macbook for an extended period of time and *cough* neglected *cough* to give it back until he came and tore it back from my fingers -- so actually having one (that I don't ever have to give back to anyone) is pretty exciting for me. Lookit me, world! I'm watching West Wing on my comfy couch while I blog! :D I even updated it from OS X Panther to the slightly less out-of-date Tiger, so I can actually run most of the modern browsers and applications. Sadly, however, just like my Dad's ancient laptop, this one too also doesn't support WAP2 so I can't connect wirelessly to most networks, which is all sorts of sad pandas.

Our house now has Christmas lights up for the first time! Cute little white LED ones. I'm so excited, they look really nice all lit up and it'll make this year feel much more Christmasy~ While I'm too lazy to decorate the entire house up like my Mom loves to do at home, there are a few holiday sparklies like Christmas lights and pretty trees that I insist on having since I moved out that help make the holiday special for me. :3

Mason also helped me install a much-needed extra shelf in our kitchen pantry this morning, in which immediately following I gleefully spent a half hour re-organizing all of our dry food. I'm not sure it's normal to get as excited as I do over a nicely organized pantry, but I think we've all realized by now that I'm strangely quirky like that occasionally. (You see what I mean when I say I haven't had anything interesting going on lately?)

I buckled and pre-ordered a copy of DC Universe Online under the tantalizing prospect of getting a chance to play the beta the same night -- only to discover afterward that I shouldn't expect to receive my beta key until at least mid-November. =_= Frankly, the whole pre-ordering process has left me rather irked on a number of levels. Sony's sort of dropped the ball with their customer service -- aside from the complete lack of details regarding beta keys prior to clicking the BUY NOW button, they send out no confirmation or acknowledgment of any kind when you try to actually submit your pre-order receipt, and from what I've read they're not bothering to take any time to ever reply to customer questions and clarify the lack of information. Shame, Sony. SHAME. While we're on the subject, the whole clunky system of "send us a photo of your pre-order receipt" seems a little... ridiculous... I've never heard of an online website processing a proof-of-sale through the use of screenshots and camera photos. o_O Either way, I look forward to eventually being able to create my own super hero/villain and running amok in Gotham City and Metropolis.

Mood: Mondays suck.

I joined in on the fun and signed up for a Formspring account and will probably check it regularly until the novelty wears off. Until then, ask me anything!

A new season of America's Next Top Model has begun, full of high-pitched screaming girls, cat fights, crazy clothes, crazier hair, and of course some makeover tears. Bring it on! For reasons I can't fully explain I just love ANTM. It's my guilty pleasure show, best when combined with tasty chocolate cake. Apart from just loving to see the finished photos, I'm ashamed to say that I think one of the draws is being witness to the insane all-girl drama that erupts in the Top Model house each season from the safety of my living room. You'd have to pay me a helluva lot of money to lock myself in a penthouse with twelve spastic young women under the eyes of nation-wide television cameras for three months.

Three books checked off my to-read list over the last month: Part of the Pride by Kevin Richardson and Born Free by Joy Adamson, both about human-animal bonds with wild lions in particular. The stories and the people in them and how they're able to form relationships with big game predators like this are fascinating to me~ I also finished The Pact by Jodi Picoult, about two families torn apart by the apparent suicide pact of their two children. It was more or less the classic Picoult child angst/parental grievances/courtroom drama plot that I've come to know (and love) her for, which I still end up enjoying no matter how many time she does it. My only complaint with this one is that the ending and outcome of the trial itself was, in my opinion, completely unrealistic. }:P Her newest novel, House Rules, about a boy with Asperger's syndrome accused of murder sounds like another typical Picoult book, but like always I'm eager to read it anyway.

I went out the other day and made (what is for me) a rare venture to purchase some new cosmetics. I bought some new sheer foundation, some mascara, a couple new swatches of eyeshadow (which according to my Google researching should be ginger-flattering), and two new facial moisturizers (the sales associate that helped me was scandalized that I used Vaseline lotion on my face as it is apparently a big no-no and does more harm than good.) This is why I hate shopping for cosmetics -- I have no earthly idea what I'm doing or what I'm looking for, which leads to me inevitably having to ask a makeup associate for help, which in turn almost always ends up making me feel exceptionally stupid and embarrassed. I walk through the beauty section aisles paranoid that every other woman is staring and judging me on my complete lack of innate female prowess with makeup.

On a related note, holy jeeze I had no idea there were so many shades of black mascara. Classic black, very black, emerald black, black brown, soft black, and what I'm sure is the king of all black -- blackest black. o_O How different can one black mascara look from another? I'm glad I opted for the much harder to find (yet with a much less intimating range of selection) brown mascara. Among all of the leagues of various blacks, there is just... brown. Straight, safe, simple brown. Much less work in my opinion.

Mood: A pretty neutral day

I went out with my sister and mother this week to see the infamous Puppetry of the Penis, and I have to say that frankly I'm beginning to doubt all your guys' cringing and whining about the pain of getting kicked in the balls when you can twist, stretch, and contort your genitals to the degree that these two men did with ease. D: It was amazing and horrifying at the same time, with emphasis on tricks such as the Snail, the Pelican, and... *shudder* Kentucky Fried Chicken. I'd be interested in knowing how many of the men who allow themselves to be dragged to PotP go home and immediately try out some of the "installations" for themselves. Brings a whole new meaning to the concept of "playing with yourself".

Kudos goes out to my sister this week -- she managed to summarize the whole and entire subject range of my Twittering and compile them into a comprehensive, easy to read pie chart:

It is, sad to say, a fairly accurate representation. -_-; As a result, over the past few days I have become an increasingly self-conscience tweeter.

And oh god, after years of constant willpower I'm starting to read fanfiction again. It's like horribly addictive fandom crack and I'm trying to keep it to small quantities. Save me before I fall off the edge of the world and am never heard from again.

Mood: Tired. Was up at 5 a.m. this morning.

Sorry guys, but I'm really struggling to force myself to finish reading Outlander. It's only rated a Somewhat Entertaining on the Brenna Scale of Awesome -- there's only so many times in one book that the heroine can be almost killed and/or raped, have her big burly Scotsman husband save her at the last moment, and then go off and have piles of hot sex before it all becomes a little repetitive. At times it also feels like a bad Harlequin smut novel, with such cheese-filled gems as:

I pressed my hips back against him, inviting, and settled against
him with a sigh as his solid hardness filled me.

and...

"I want to leave the feel of me deep inside ye with my seed."

I felt silly just typing out the quote out here. I had to put the book down for a while to gather up my brain from the floor.

In other news, OMG I finally fixed my internet! It's been sickeningly slow on my Mac here at home, but yet fine on Mason's PC. *Terrible cloud of irritated confusion* Apparently Apple is doing... something... with their DNS... something or other... (I don't actually understand all the techno-babble at all) but basically whatever it is made interwebbing really slow -- but everyone seemed to point to a specific OpenDNS thing to fix the problem, and it did! HUZZUH! Hello speedy 'nets, I missed you~

I've been spending a lot of time lately expanding my (previously complete lack-thereof) collection of Batman comics, most notably issues that predominately feature the Joker and/or Harley Quinn; and heavily helped by the conveniently compiled list created by the wonderful webmistress of Love Dat Joker. (I love when all the hard work is already done for me.) So far I've managed to find everything from the main Batman series, most of Detective Comics, as well as all the animated titles and several issues and mini-series' from here and there.

It's been fun finally getting to read some of those really popular and well-known stories that I've only heard about before, despite having to battle through all the horrible retro art that makes me cringe. (I'm a sucker for the sexy, modern penciling more along the lines of Jim Lee.) Stories like "A Death in the Family" have been a great read, but the visuals almost ruin it for me. T-T

This avatar screams out for an amusing caption of some kind, but I don't know what.

Mood: Tired

Dear angry teens:

If you would like me to post your anti-Twilight rants in the front page article section -- which I'd be more than happy to do simply for the uproar and fangirly angst that it would stir -- please try to make a half-decent submission that doesn't break every spelling and grammar rule in existence. (Despite what you may think, netspeak is not an acceptable form of English.) Also preferably a submission that is more than two sentences long. (Extra exclamation points do not count towards your word count.) I am always up for spreading more LULz at the expense of Stephanie Meyer and the Twilight series, but I can't do so when you don't put in any effort!

On the related note of Twilight fuckwittage: If Twilight Were 10 Times Shorter and 100 Times More Honest

So I've been badgered into taking a trip on the Twitter bandwagon. I made a deal that I'd use it for a week and I'm on my fifth day and am still not quite sure what the whole point of Twitter is. I'm trying, I really am. *Squints* Wait, is that... Nope. Sorry. Don't see it.

I don't understand why people are flocking towards this awkward and somewhat useless middle ground between blogging and Facebooky social networking. I particularly dislike the part of this week-long deal where I'm being forced in turn to follow every Tom, Dick, and Sally that randomly decides to follow me. I don't understand. I don't know these people. I don't care what they're thinking, doing, or saying through out the day. Why are strangers following my Twitter feed in the first place? D:

The only Twitterism that I've grown fond of is the handy ability to immediately update my Facebook status straight from the Twitter app on my desktop. That's cool. I also like the idea of being able to include a widget on the side of my blog that shows my recent updates. Basically I like and will probably continue using anything involving it that directly relates to updating or displaying my Facebook status, which essentially is all Twitter really is. Starting Friday though, I'm cleaning out my spammed-to-hell Twitter friend list.

I didn't get to play any Guild Wars tonight, which I'm very sad about. :c I really need to buy a cheap computer headset. Playing in a party that I can't talk outloud to directly is really hard; I don't know where people are, or what they're doing, or what I'm supposed to be doing! There's not exactly a lot of time to spare to type out game plans while you're being mauled by a fucking gang bang of vicious skale monsters, you know?