today The Company is having an "offsite for team building"...we are going to a country club that has miniature golfing, basketball, volleyball, and batting cages. it starts at 2 pm, but we don't get fed until 4 pm. there will be beer, and it all seems well and good until you realize that it is forty degrees outside, and columbus day, and there are pets to go home and cuddle with, like dogs who wear goggles (doggles) and cats who saunter up to the arm bar and ask for a drink, but get turned away because they don't have ID.





later this week, i will get reimbursed a long-awaited $140 reimbursement from The Company. i have another $85 in my paypal account from selling various items on ebay. and i'm certain that if i take my powerpuff girls tin to a coinstar machine, there's at least another $50 in there. and that, killoggians, means that xmx may get an ipod, only two years after they officially became trendy.

last night, i wanted to watch 'desperate housewives' but the battle of the beltway was on ESPN and simulcast on ABC. apparently housewives was on at midnight instead. but, i mean, BULLSHIT. so i read the uber-gimmicky know-it-all and went to bed. i've been sick.

sneezing is pretty fun, but not after the 60th time in one day.

These things are evil incarnate:


I burned my left hand on one last night, resulting in much bitching and whining, lots of cold water, aloe vera gel and aveeno lotion. I warn you to leave a potholder on the skillet handle after you take it out of the oven, because you might unknowingly try to pick it up without thinking. That is how I seared my palm last night.

The rewards of my injury was a really tasty pork tenderloin with a rosemary au jus that I can use the leftovers for a sandwich today. It was surprisingly easy and cheap to make, but the pain is so totally not worth it.

Use a damn potholder.

I am either sick or depressed or both. I slept 13 hours last night and missed all of my classes, and I still feel tired and sore. Also, missing all of my classes has only added to the school-related angst and anxiety I've fallen under the spell of recently.

I should make myself some chicken soup with dumplings or go to the store and buy some english muffins, chocolate milk, or any of the sundry comfort foods that make me feel like less of a nostril-blood spewing slacker monster. Perhaps I will make myself some creamy garlic soup. Garlic is good for the sinuses, right?

I just walked to the kitchen to get a cracker and noticed that there are five large crows gathered outside of my bedroom staring intently at my window. That can't be good.

As you may or may not have read about here, I'm embarking on a series of Killoggs-controlled dating adventures.

First: Craigslist.

Now: Nerve.com.

So... I'm making my profile, I plan on using some of what Myriam wrote here, but I also need to specifically answer the following questions:

Last great book I read:
Most humbling moment:
Favorite on-screen sex scene:
Celebrity I resemble most:
Best or worst lie I've ever told:
If I could be anywhere at the moment:
Song or album that puts me in the mood:
The five items I can't live without:
Fill in the blanks: is sexy; is sexier
In my bedroom, you'll find:
Why you should get to know me:
More about who I'm looking for:

Some of these questions are really odd.

One thing that came up today when I was talking with Meredith... I feel weird about being a super jackass on a site like this vs CL, because here I am attached visually to my profile, and people I know _will_ see me. So do I want to be as huge a jackass as I was with my first CL post? Definitely not. Do I just want to skip this sort of site totally and stick to CL? I don't know.

One thing that's interesting is that you can make multiple profiles... Which is kind of weird, in general - that allows you to make multiple versions of your persona, which doesn't seem like it translates into finding someone genuine.