Obsessions

Wow, Lizett, you hardly blog, ever. Not just lately, but seriously, ever. Well, my friends, let me tell you the reason why. No, it's not my job keeping me busy, or some noble volunteer work. Stephen and I currently spend $17 a month to get two DVDs at a time from Blockbuster and boy do we make use of our subscription.

Over the summer, and up to now, Stephen and I have watched entire seasons/series of Pushing Daisies, The Wire, Dexter, Heroes, Rome, Burn Notice, and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. With all this new TV on top of the other TV we're watching, I suspect we spend 26 hours a day in front of the TV. Even as I type this, we're watching tonight's episode of House, the wonder doctor. Let's hope we don't have a baby soon so we don't have to give up on all this TV.

I've made a huge mistake

Regular Thursday night. Big TV night for me. Everything's going fine (thanks to DVR I can catch The Office and Ugly Betty, and Scrubs/30 Rock and Grey's Anatomy) and I decide to watch Grey's before I go to bed. I like to watch my comedies real time and save the dramedy for later. Big mistake. HUGE mistake. I am not one to get emotional during movies or TV shows for the most part. I was the only person in my family not weeping during The Notebook. But damn if tonight's Grey's didn't have me weeping like a little boy who just lost his dog. I guess it's a good thing I don't have class tomorrow or I might be screwed for the rest of the semester. I think I'm going to go punch myself in the gut, maybe that will toughen me up.

One down...

So, I had my first final yesterday. It was a little more time-pressured than I expected, but I think I did okay. I aim for the middle of the curve, so I think I'll fit in quite nicely there with how I did. Of course, as we all know, grades are pretty much completely random and arbitrary, so I guess it'll just be a mystery until February or so. Overall, I really liked Dix's class. He doesn't call on anyone, which seems like a good thing, but then it just turns into Dix having a conversation with himself. It can be fairly entertaining though, when he peppers his conversation with the phrases "chicken shit" and "dumbass".

So, how did I prepare for this final? By having my boyfriend come into town, of course. I actually did get a little studying done while we enjoyed season 3 of Arrested Development. I'm a multi-tasker. We also made a trip to the Home Depot, which is just as exciting as it sounds (very). There we found a new smoke alarm for my apartment, as I have been living without one for the past four months. I live in a great place, right? That's got to be an argument for warrant of habitability. Anyway, we also got cables to hook up my DVD player to my brand new HDTV. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I am slowly but surely moving into the 21st century. I love my new TV, mainly because it's big and shiny, but I will probably love it more once I get an HD antenna, after which all non-HDTV will be ruined forever. My old TV is now sitting in the corner of my room, along with my original Nintendo, as there is no room for it with my new TV. Out with the old, and in with the new.



Also, I apologize for the crappiness of the pictures. My camera is old and eats batteries like a leech, and I was too lazy to put in new ones so the flash would work. Deal with it.

McShepherd

I've been watching a lot of Lost lately. One of the many lovely things I received for my birthday from Mal was Season 2. I just saw season 1 right before school started, and then I started watching season 3 when it started, so I'm a little all over the place. Anyway, multiple episodes of Lost, along with my love of Grey's Anatomy, has made me realize - both hotties on each show are called Dr. Shepherd. And they're both surgeons - Derek is a brain surgeon and Jack is a spinal surgeon. I don't think this a coincidence. Derek = McDreamy. So what should Jack be? Mc...Rugged? Although we all know the real rugged man-beast on Lost is Sawyer. Plus, the nicknames usually end with a Y. So who is your pick? Dr. McDreamy? Or Dr. Jack Shepherd?

Your wake-up call

Now that I live alone, I'm a little more paranoid about my safety. Not like the presence of another girl under 5'2" is going to help if someone actually tried to break in, but it's always a little more comforting when there's someone else in the apartment. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard some loud knocking at my door at 8:30 this morning. I checked the peephole, and it looked like a FedEx guy. I opened the door, and he asked me to sign his little computer, and handed over a package. From NBC Universal? Innnnteresting. I opened it up, only to find that it was from my good friend, Anglee, and contained the following:

It's finally here

Tonight, my friends, is the Project Runway season finale! It's been an exciting season, and let me tell you, I think Tim Gunn is probably the greatest part of it now. Pretty much every time he saw one of Kayne's designs, he yelled out "Oh, Jesus!" Ahh, classic Tim.

I finally got my car windshield repaired today. The Phantom has taken some beatings lately. First, it got rear-ended coming out of a Target, then it had a few dents on the doors from idiots who park too close. Who wouldn't want to be close to true beauty, I know, but they could at least watch how they open the doors to their POS's. Finally, on my last trip to Houston, I got a rock right to driver's side of the windshield. So now my car is totally officially tainted. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.

Last Thursday, I went to the TLF auction, and actually ended up winning some stuff in the silent auction, including: An autographed copy of the book "The Warren Court" (yes, I'm a huge nerd), two tickets to a riverboat tour on Town Lake, and 8 yoga classes. I didn't really think I was going to win anything, but I guess there weren't that many people there this year. If anything, the yoga should be a way to finally get me to get off my ass and do something other than bowing in front of my DVR all afternoon.