Not dead, but nothing is happening

Well, that isn't true. Things are happening, but it's nothing I can blog about at the moment. So for that I apologize.

In other news:
Last night a sixteen year old boy told me I was ugly.

16 Year Old Boy: Do you want to get to know me?
Sarah Booz: No, you've been rude and I have no interest in getting to know you.
16YOB: Yeah? Well you're mugged!
SB: I'm what?
16YOB: You're mugged! Fucking UGLY!
SB: How old are you?
16YOB: How old are YOU?
SB: Twenty three. Aren't you a little old to be throwing out "Your ugly!" insults?
16YOB: Well you're ugly!

etc.

Aren't teenagers fun?
He eventually got kicked out by the hostess after repeatedly calling a friend of mine either "McLovin!" or "HARRY POTTER!"

Then I slept most of today, had lunch by myself and am now going to pick up my laundry.

See? Nothing worth blogging about. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Food of the Gods is all I could have hoped for, and more.

Remember the movie Food of the Gods that I mentioned in this post? Well I finally saw it last night and let me tell you, it was spectacular. For starters, it's rated PG. Oddly enough "PG" in 1977 allowed people to say "Shit", allowed relatively large amounts of fake blood, and allowed childbirth. Interesting. The effects were genius. And by "genius" I mean "craptacular in the extreme". All of the giant animals were just regular animals super imposed over the action via blue screen. Really really obvious and crappy blue screen. And the blood! The blood was neon orange. It looked like paintballs. It was literally the worst fake blood I have ever seen. This movie must have had a budget of approximately $24.

I advise you all see it. Or we work out a drinking game based on it. Let's do the latter, kay?

In other news: my friend PETE, who I love and adore and has been MISSING for the last three years, reentered my life today thanks to the magic of Myspace.

Pete and I went to camp together for one summer when we were about fifteen, became friends and just kept being friends. He was one of the few people who saw my father in the last few days before he died. He was one of the few people who my father gave presents to when he was dying: drugs, a pipe, flash paper and a hidden sparker that would ignite the flash paper in your hand. When I was a teenager and absolutely horrified by every word that came out of my parent's mouths, Pete would provoke my father to tell him stories about going cross country, doing too many drugs, the time he had the DTs, etc. I was completely appalled, but it made Pete and my father in to really good friends. Pete even wrote an essay about my father for a class he was taking in college. On top of all that, he is one of the nicest, craziest people I've ever met in my life and I've had nothing but fun when we've hung out.

So when Pete went missing a couple of years ago I was really bummed out. I've spent about six months trying to track him down, to the point where Seth suggested that I hire a private investigator if I was really so worried, but with no luck. Then today, out of NOWHERE, dude contacts me on Myspace, apologizes for not inviting me to his wedding, and tells me A) that he lives in California and B) that he misses me. I'm upset that I missed the wedding, but so incredibly happy that my friend is not dead.

So yeah...it's a pretty good day.

And I'm having salmon for dinner. Mmmm...Salmon. Any ideas what I should do with it? ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Scrubbing Bubbles or Strange names I have called my lovers

I have called my boyfriends some really weird things. This is a habit I picked up from my mother who, while she only ever called my father "Honey", "Dear" or "You Asshole", was fond of giving me odd pet names when I was a child. These included, but were not limited to:

• Mouse Mouse
• Hamburger
• Fuzzlehead
• Whoever You Are
• Fred

I apparently decided I would keep up this tradition but, since I don't have children, my boyfriends become subject to whatever odd name I decide to call them at that moment. When I was younger, I tended to stick to normal things like "Baby," but as I've gotten older the crazy has taken over and I have ended up calling people some really weird things.

My last boyfriend, for no particular reason, became "Butt Butt" one day. "Butt Butt" evolved into "General McButtButt" which in turn made me become "The Esteemed Lady McButtButt." I really wish I was joking about this, but I'm not.

Seth, luckily, has given me my fair share of weird petnames, so I don't feel so bad when I call him something entirely random. He started calling me "Lamb" when we were first dating and so he, of course, became "Sir Lambsalot" one of the famous Knights of the Lamb Table. On a regular basis he is any combination of the words head, space, face, case, pants, pumpkin, lamb, etc. It is perfectly normal for me to pick up the phone and go, "Hi Spacehead-lambpants!" Which makes NO SENSE. Well yesterday I decided that his new name should be "Scrubbing Bubbles." The best part about it is that it almost sounds dirty. It also sounds like there should be a funny story accompanying the pet name but (guess what!) there isn't. I'm just a crazy person.

Happy Tuesday! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves