Prague

The view of the Charles Bridge from, um, another bridge. The consummate Pragueian pic, no?
Below we have the city view atop the Petrin hill tower. It was a drizzly day, but everything still looked beautiful. You can see four of the city's bridges crossing the Moldau. Nice!
Yay! I was very exciting to finally find this. It's the Dancing House or Dancing Couple building designed (in part) by Frank Gehry. Very neat! And people are just like eh, crusing by all the time.
So that's three pics for a start. Must get on some homework. No rest for the wicked.

Kisses,
Smelly.

I'm here!!! Okay, I've been here.

So I did Prague. The whole thing. The entire city. Nothing else to do. So I kicked it on over to Budapest. Here until the wee hours of next Sunday morning. Then home again home again jittity jig.

This trip has been fantastic--have a skillion pics, but blogga doesn't like this wireless connection. So I'll send a few on later once I'm on a better line.

Have seen, heard, drunk, and eaten much--has been a great time so far. I've been walking so much that I had the worst case of cankles in my personal history. I felt extremely attractive.

More lata--it's almost midnight here and I'm knackered. A town tour on the Danube, visit to the communist statue garden, 20+ wine tasting, and folk music and dancing show will do that to you.

And for those of you who want to snidely remind me that this is a school trip--shurrup. This was a holiday for you today as well. Suck it!!

I'm just kidding, baby, I love you. Mama promises she'll be good.

Whirling Dervish

Don't even start with me.

Suffice it to say that things have been hectic. I leave for Prague tomorrow evening; there for a week, then on to Budapest for another week. This is a study abroad program for school. It's going to be great; will have laptop with me, so theoretically can post to the old COP. But only if you are really nice. And say pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!!! Then I will think about it. Below, in concise bullet form, are some of the things that have been going on since we last danced:

• My boss fucking quit. With -1 day notice. Very likely so that she would not have to pay back her sign-on bonus. Classy and oh so very ethical.
• I got poison oak. In lots of places, but the moneymakers were my ASS and eyelids.
• Didn't get my US passport back from renewal until YESTERDAY. Many tears have been shed and many pants have been shat.
• In addition to getting ready to be out of the office for 2 weeks and scrambling to recover from boss' failure to return from maternity leave, I have had class in prep for this study abroad from 5-9pm every night this week

I am worn and wrinkled but pushing on. By this time tomorrow, I'll be. . . well, I'll be packing most likely. But then a few hours after that, hopefully sitting on a plane with a cocktail. Hmm, won't that be nice!

Kisses, darlings--what would you like me to bring back for you???

Shalom and happy Friday

First of all, I didn't win the lottery. I was a little surprised, because it had, after all, been such a lucky day. I know you, too, were shocked since I would have naturally split my winnings with my faithful readers. Ah, well. C'est la vie. GALLIC COMMENTER, DID I SPELL THAT RIGHT??? Never you mind, this is between me and Le Commentar Frog. S/he knows who s/he is.

Anyway, right now I am sitting in a little cafe having a coffee and my favourite breakfast of all time, a warm ham and cheese croissant. I'm down the road from the place where I will be volunteering today. For it is Community Partnership Day at my company aka the day everyone gets to skiv off from work and pretend to do good things for others but really just wave a broom around and shit. Except for me, of course. I take these things very seriously. I was even an event coordinator one year. Totally thankless job. This year I chose my activity solely on location. It only took about 20 mins to get here and it is IN TOWN. Huge sell. This afternoon I hope to get a mani/pedi. And pick up some meds for my sister. Since I love NOTHING MORE than running errands for my Africa-dwelling sibling.

The point of this post is, well, rather pointless. But I would like to plant the seed for a future post. And that is:

We put in an electric fence this weekend.

For my escapist animal.

More later, but let me just give you a little peek. The testing process was the best thing that I have ever witnessed in easily 10 years.

Bye!

Bon chance!

Today, a special treat for you. A photo essay, what fun! But it's only 5 (shit, make that 4) pics because Blogger wouldn't let me upload more. Anyway. Today has been my lucky day! Lemme explains.

This smug fellow here plays lab tech Hodges on CSI. He's kind of smarmy bastard, but last week's episode was all about him and his having a good day. So it's relevant. Kind of. Because when I realised I was having a lucky day, I thought about him.
I did not, however, think about the fact that I probably watch too much television. Perhaps I should have. Moving on!

Got up at the crack of crack to make it to the tire store this AM to get my brakes checked. Made it from house to store in 40 minutes, almost unheard of in this town on a work day during rush hour, albeit a lot earlier than I normally leave. While I was checked in at the tire place and drinking free-but-crap coffee, the news was on and sure enough there were not one, but two major wrecks on my commute that I would have certainly been ensnared in if I had been going to work at my usual time. To wit, Atlanta traffic:

I'm in the way back, far right lane. Just kidding. Anyway, this was win #1 for me: avoiding hellish traffic. Then, the tire guy came back and said that my brake pads didn't need replacing yet and was very nice and printed out my car history and didn't charge me for anything and sent me on my merry way. Win #2!
Oh, boo. I just had a fantastic pic of the brake pads to show and I just accidently deleted it and Blogger won't let me put it back where it was. BLOGGER!!! Fuck it!

Then, I checked my email and found out that I received an additional $800 in scholarship monies for my study abroad trip next month! Wahey! Next, I had yummy Thai noodle leftovers for lunch that made my belly happy and my breath pongy. It really did look a lot like the pic below:

Fully sated, I then went on a lively walk with two of my coworkers around the lake in my work complex, taking care to avoid the massive droppings of goose poo that litters the paths. Filthy geese. Passed a couple of turtles sunning themselves. Weather was completely perfect, bright and sunny with a cooling breeze.
Then I came back for a health services appointment and found out I gained 5 pounds from last December. I immediately rationalised this away because a) I'm about to start my periodical and b) clearly it's a muscle gain, which is heavier than fat. Because even this momentary setback wasn't going to get me down!

Because it's my lucky day!

I'm going to go blow my paycheck on lotto tickets.

He gives it two fingers up!

Well well well.
Received this lovely little response from Peetah in the email inbox last night.

Note how the offending CoP post is still on his computer screen at the taking of this charming photograph.

Note that I got the double bird with supporting fingers on either side, no less than the deluxe flip-off configuration.

Note the pretend paperwork on the desk as if to say, I am important! Just look at how much stuff I have to do! And a tie! I'm wearing a tie!

Note the fakey "boy am I really mad!" expression on his face. Do I detect a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth, as if approximately 1.7 nanoseconds later he exploded into a shrill, high-pitched giggle fit lasting for several minutes? Do I?

Not buying it, Hoberman. You couldn't stay mad at me if you tried. I'm just too hilarious.

Maybe I should turn comments off for this post.

The funny thing from earlier

So, anyway, the hilarious thing that Peetah said. As Mern very astutely points out in her comment to the post below, I am very mean to poor old Peter. But secretly, I think Peetah will be quietly pleased that he got so much attention on ye olde Cup o' Pizzle today, replete with not-one-not-two-but-THREE pics. And anyway, God is already punishing me by having a strange little red dot rash pop up on my right forearm this afternoon that is ever-increasing in itchiness quotient. So don't worry, I'll get mine.

She also points out that today may be my birthday. And indeed it is. I am the mighty 3-1, the old triple uno, le trente de un ala fromage de la pong merci au revoir. I wondered what 31 means in terms of police lingo, and with ten it means a burglary in progress. As in 10-31. As opposed to a 10-21, or a burglary in the past. Stupid burglaries in the past, current ones are just so much more in right now, ha! Ha! Ha!

So, anyway. Yes, it is my birthday. And it was about this very topic Peetah and I were discussing this morning. More specifically, I was telling him about Rob's present for me, still unknown. He is going to give it to me tonight. The present, that is, you salacious pervs, jesus. And of course I was pestering him this weekend to give me a hint and of course Rob immediately called me on my bullshit and was like, why don't I just tell you what it is right now? It's . . .and took a deep breath while I ran away with my ears covered squealing nooooooooo! because I secretly don't wait to know I just want to drag out the suspense for as long as I can.

But later Rob pointed out that there was no pointy point point in giving me my present any sooner than tonight, because--and I am quoting--"it won't be activated until then."

?????

I mean, ?????










Seriously, ?????





I'm at a loss. And when I told Peter this story, he was quiet for a few seconds, then gasped audibly, and whispered, "You're going to become a Wonder Twin!"

Naturally, my braying immediately filled the office, poured out into the hall, wound round the staircases, and blew out a couple of windows on the fourth floor.

Well done, sir. Well done.

I'll let you guys know tomorrow. Any guesses? House them in Comments, if you please.

Peetah is going to fucking kill me.

Because I'm posting this!!!

And again!

So this is what happened. Peetah rang this morning to sing me Happy Birthday in two languages, and in the ensuing conversation, said something hilarious that I immediately vowed to post on the blog, post-haste. Then, when I was getting ready to post, I thought, well wouldn't it be lovely to put a little pic of Peetah up as well? Wonder if I hve one? Well, I don't, so I went out to the internet and found THIS!

Peetah earned the coveted Career Spotlight from his grad school in October 2003 and was profiled on their online newsletter. I can't believe I did not receive any kind of notification during this time and am just discovering this information now. Naturally, I devoured the accompanying article. Here is my favourite part:

"During the interview I asked a ton of questions, which ironically showed how much I actually knew."

Because I am such a loving and supporting friend, my immediate reaction was, "What a dick." Then I thought, "This is not a great use of the word ironically."

Anyway, I'll get to the hilarious thing Peetah said on the phone later. Now, it's just time to openly mock a dearest friend for a 4-year old story.

One more time!!

Okay, I'm done.

My name is Eleanor, and I have a buying-stupid-shit problem.

God help me. I am officially an eBay addict. It used to be just the occasional book or whatever, but now I'm pretty much just stopping short of used underwear. I won't even tell you how many things I have tagged as "Items I'm Watching," but it's on two pages. And about a hour ago, I hit a new low. I saw something I didn't need with only one bid for 98 cents with 1 minute left and I bid on it SOLELY TO FUCK WITH THE LONE BIDDER. Luckily for him/her (and me), I was too late.

Help.

ps. I just won a brown glass bead necklace for a dollar. See?

You talking to me?

I love how very coy this coyote looks. For those not in the know, this is the animal that calmly walked into a Chicago Quiznos' yesterday via a propped-open door and proceed to sit in their drink cooler. The employees and customers filed out, animal control filed in, and crisis was averted. Read more here.

Anyway, this look tells me that if the coyote could speak, she would--in a soft, Southern drawl, purr: "Why, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Can't you see it?

On a related note: Chicago coyotes are fucking pussies. It's not even hot yet. Now when bitches from the ATL begin hopping in coolers, then it's hot. Peace out.

I love you. No, I hate you.

Re below post: everything's fine. We talked it out, both admitting shortcomings and committing to do better. Then we beat the shit out of each other. So it's cool.

I found a pretty neat little website today called the thedailyplate. It's a pretty neat beta site into which you punch in all the food you eat per day, how much exercise you get, and your weight goals. And it tells you how many calories you can still eat to be ok. Except that I eat a million little things per day, like 7 almonds and 5 leftover Sunchips (harvest cheddar yum). And that kind of thing is hard to put in the site. Not hard, exactly, but time-consuming. But maybe this is what THEY want. THEY being the non-fatty type who want others to be less-fatty. Because I can see wanting to eat something and then being like fuck it I don't want to have to log this in.

Or maybe I actually hate this website after all.

This is not a funny post.

I feel like crap. I have approximately 1,852 things to do before Ginny and Paul get here tomorrow and I have been running around like a madman all day today and will continue to do so until I pick them up tomorrow afternoon. So when my boyfriend calls and tries to make funny (read: not funny) jokes about me not being busy at all, I get angry and end the call. Then call back and leave a message about why I am pissed. Then take his call, find out he hasn't listened to the message, get mad and hang up. And steam for a while. But now my steam is condensing into sadness. And I can't concentrate on my shit that I so desperately need to work on. And it sucks. And I realise that sometimes it is easier being alone. Not that I'm going to do anything rash, but it's true for right now.

Thanks for letting me vent and putting up with my bullshit.

I like television.

Especially when I have lots of boring reading to do and I want to procrastinate. Last night, I had about 50 pages to read of horrendously boring motivation theory claptrap, so I decided that it would be a good idea to watch telly and then mute it during commercials and read. So basically a 5:1 telly:reading ratio. Not particularly clever. Cut to me still being up at 130am. Hallucinating. But I couldn't help it! Scrubs was on! I wasn't even aware of this show until it was on for a couple years. And I still haven't figured out when it actually comes on network television. But since it's syndicated now, I don't have to! Plus I have about 4 years of episodes to catch up on, so it's like new!

Even though I find Zach Braff ever-increasingly whiffing of dickhead, he does have good comic timing. And John McGinley is pretty much always spot on. Turk, Carla, the Janitor, Elliot: fantastic. Last night an episode made me laugh out loud. By myself. That's pretty hard to do.

So I give Scrubs props up. I'm a fan. A very, very late fan who doesn't know when it actually comes on. But when I accidentally catch it, I like it!

Welcome, wee one!

I am pleased to present to you my goddaughter, Miss Meaghan Sophia Kelly. She is three days old, 19.5 inches long, and around 7.7 lbs. Her talented and now very tired mother knitted this gorgeous sweater.
Wave and she waves back. With her mitted little paw. To protect her from her teeny little fingernails that can't be cut yet. She sleeps a lot--she has, after all, been through a lot in such a short time. I am visiting her for the first time tonight. See you soon, darling. Love!

Things I just thought about today, okay?

Totally inspired by Elbo's aces post today, I wanted to write something similar. Except the things I thought about were 1) something I used to be obsessed about and no longer am, and 2) something that I was never and have no plans to ever be obsessed about. So it's um, not really the same thing after all. But, as my mother always says, fuck it!*

1) The album OK Computer by Radiohead. I have bought this CD approximately nine times. Every time has been precipitated by a sudden, jerking memory of a song off of it, followed by the complete and utter destruction of my dorm room/apartment/house looking for it, followed by a resigned repurchase. This last time, though, I found it hiding behind the sunshade in my car. Naughty OK Computer!

This album fucking rules because of, and I'll just put it out there, track 5. Let Down is one of the most heartbreakingly tearsmashingly soulrippingly amazing songs ever written. It has seen me through some times, my friends, and it is aural beauty, plain and simple. Clearly, the rest of the album doesn't suck by a long stretch, but oh. Let Down. I was playing it during my errands at lunch and had to fight the urge to not go back to the office and drive around all day. And smoke pot. And wear thrift-store clothing. And too much lipstick. Good times.

2) Movies are so expensive to rent these days. So I find myself buying films that I wouldn't ordinarily purchase because it costs 53 more cents than renting it. And I would probably return it late, so I am likely saving money in the long run.

Anyway. I purchased Thank You for Smoking during one of these vid sto trips the other day. And after watching it in silence, I thought, "Eh." Immediately afterwards, I thought, "I bet this film has a lot of deleted scenes." Sure enough, it had approximately 900. I suspected this, because it just seemed so disjointed and not very connectedy. This is a technical film term that I learned from my years on the international cinema circuit. Great cast. Interesting premise. It just didn't. . . it just didn't. Shame. But now I have it forever to watch again and again!

I also bought Young Adam, a film with Ewan McGregor and Tilda Swinton that has some of the most sexually charged scenes in a well-made film that I've seen in a while. So if you're needing some sexy time but don't feel like shilling out for the purid porn again, I highly recommend it. You know who you are.

*Ann Quin would never say this, how dare you.

Classic. Dork.

So I'm on Spring Break. Woo Spring Break! Sping Bake! Rustle me up a beer bong and a joint! Clothe me in a string bikini and . . . nothing! Date rape me and leave me unconscious in an alley in Mexico! Spring. . . break. Hmm.

So what Spring Break really means is that I am still at work like normal, but I don't have to go to class this week, do any homework, or stress about the homework that I'm not doing. So it's really not very exciting at all.

But because I always have to be wired up about something, I made a massive to-do list to capture all the things I have been putting off for the last couple of months because of school. To organise it all, I put the list into excel, adding columns for due date and status so that I can effectively sort and update the action items.

Instantly, I felt the cloak of social awkwardness envelop me like an old friend. My netherparts shivered as though I had never been laid. My glasses grew into hornrims and a plastic protector sprang from my pocket.

But I am embracing my nerdiness because I love typing "Complete" into a row of something I have done. And yes, I did think about creating a drop-down menu of options instead, like "Not started" or "In Progress." And yes, I still may do it. My list is up to 36 rows. I told you I had a lot of shit to do. And yes, get a life is on it. So shuuuuuuuuuuuuurup!

Heart-exploding l'amour!

So I don't talk about my boyfriend a lot on this blog. Because he's an asshole.

No, he's not. He's lovely and wonderful and funny and smart and handsome and all that crap. Still, I try to leave all the vomity sentiment off of this blog. Because I know you will be insanely jealous and, in a stubborn stance of green-eyed defiance, stop reading the good old Cup of Pizza. And I can't have that. Until today. Because today, my boyfriend wrote a song for me. And it's called, "Eat Shit."

I will pause for a collective sigh of vicarious ecstasy.

Rewind: I realised on the way into the office this morning that I had forgotten my mobile. So when I got in, I rang Rob to let him know this and that he would only be able to contact me on the office line today and after that he was out of luck. He was, at the very best, underwhelmingly nonplussed. But I didn't think much about it until I got back from a meeting and had a voicemail from him. This voicemail wanted to let me know that he had forgotten his personal mobile and that the only way to reach him was via his work mobile. And it was dripping. with. sarcasm.

Rang the brother back and pointed out that when he can't get ahold of me, he has a tendency to whinge like a small infant. And he shot back, "Know what my favourite song is right now? It's called 'Eat Shit.'" And then he sang it for me:

Verse 1:
If your first name is Eleanor
And your last name is Quin
Eat shit!

Chorus:
Eat shit!
Eat shit!
Eat shit!

So Rob, 1, Eleanor, 937,322,705. But purely for a quick wit and catching me slightly off-guard. . . my songwriting skills are CLEARLY superior. Natch.

My lovely little Ginblossom

Yay! Ginny is coming! My beloved friend Gin just emailed me her itinerary--she and husband Paul are coming for a weekend in March. They live in DC in an amazing house with 2 wonderful boxers. The dogs, not pugilists. Gin is my best and oldest friend. We met at the end of my freshman year in college. That night we got drunk and ran around in the ocean. Friends forever! She is one of my favourite people in the world and I am proud to be her friend. So I dedicate this post to the one I love.

Here is Ginny on one of her last visits to the ATL, pretending like this is her car. This would, in fact, decidedly NOT be her car.
Fact: Ginny has a near-obsession with wearing matching bra and panties. She also used to have a nose ring. Now she has a wedding ring. I know because I was her maid of honour. The maid of honour who got drunk and broke into the pool at the reception with the best man and went skinny-dipping.

This is Ginny standing over a vent in a parking lot. I love that she looks so pretty and dainty and her hair is going WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!

Fact: Ginny lived in Italy and Spain for a couple of years--I went to visit her in Perugia when I was living in London and we had an amazing time running around and eating ourselves into an oblivion. Toward the end of the trip, I got a stomach ulcer from too much espresso. Gin got her hair tangled in the hair dryer and I had to cut it out. I took a picture first. Then, we missed the train going back to Rome meaning that I missed my flight back to London and I had to sleep in the airport on a table.

This last shot is Ginny dancing in my hall with a purple boa. It's blurry but I love it. Looking at it I can remember her smiling and shimmying around and saying cha cha cha!
Cha cha cha indeed. I love her. Mwah!

Why did the maestro pound the piano keys? Because he wanted them to b-flat.

NPR had a neat little story on Morning Edition this morning. It was all about the weird, cosmic effect that b-flat has on the universe. Like that it makes alligators go batshit and black holes hum it for skillions of years. You can read all about it here.

Interesting story, but they missed probably the greatest use of b-flat of all time.

And that is, of course . . .as the super secret super spy secret password from JUMPIN' JACK FLASH!!!!
Jumpin' Jack Flash! It's not even Jumping, it's JUMPIN"!!!!! What a great movie. Whoopi! With her giant toothbrush! The mannish German woman doing calesthenics on her computer! The trick chair in the office! A slutty Carole Kane! A not-dead Phil Hartman! Lady Sarah, in her little pink sheets in her little pink room! Shitty breadsticks! Jack, you sheeeet!

Clearly I own this movie on DVD.

I think I'm going to watch it tonight.

ps. I totally just made up that joke in the post title. Be honest, it was kinda good.

Yipperdee skipperdee doo

Yay! The reunion tour for The Police was announced today! I'm very excited, even though ATL dates have not been announced. Surely they couldn't resist the chance to make even more money by skipping over our fair city. Chicago, I note, is already on the line-up, so shizz. . . I MAY BE COMING UP, CLAIRE!!!!

Whenever I think of the Police, I'm reminded of the story of one of the Fowler girls, pulling up next to Sting's limo in the early 80s in Holland and he flipped them off. Good times.

I was reading about the concert announcement on cnn.com, and I got to the bottom and noticed this ABSOLUTE BOMBSHELL:

"Additionally, the Australian-New Zealand band Crowded House plans to end a 10-year hiatus once a replacement is found for late drummer Paul Hester."

HOLY CRAP!

Now that's news! v v v v v v v excited to see Crowded Hizzouse. Did you notice in the above pic that they misspelled Neil Finn's name? After all, he is only THE LEAD SINGER.

In other news, Phil Collins is rejoining Genesis and David Lee Roth is touring with Van Halen. SNOOOOOOORE!!!