red. velvet. chocolate. milk.

it’s called “holiday milk”, which sounds terribly euphemistic to me (and was part of the reason why i bought it), and yes, it’s milk so i had to take a lactaid before i cracked it open. but once i did…oh man. i do not like milk at all, but i loved this holiday milky goodness!

it doesn’t taste exactly like red velvet cake but that’s fine. it tastes super sweet and decidedly unlike regular milk. one serving recommendation on the side of the carton suggests steaming it (yes!) and serving with whipped cream. i hear other people like hot milk and whipped cream (i don’t) so try that if you dig it.

you can’t download any apps on it, it doesn’t have wifi OR 3G, and soorry canadians, it doesn’t come in a bag. but you can get it at target this weekend for $1.79 and i think dany heatley likes it.

you’re welcome.

miranda july. writin’ books. makin’ movies. kickin’ ass.

People tend to stick to their own size group because it’s easier on the neck. Unless they are romantically involved, in which case the size difference is sexy. It means: I am willing to go the distance for you.

–miranda july, “the shared patio”

“this looks like deep-fried shit, why do i love it so much?” -me, 2010

word to the cheesecake factory staff who kept me fed on the crazy iphone line. especially the guy who kept bringing me corn fritters.

you little motherfuckers.

little noah is my friend jesse’s baby. he was 18 days old when i met him. he doesn’t do much. as i held him, someone asked me “aren’t you just dying to have one?!”

babies don’t like good music, or alcohol, or trying new food (i bet babies don’t like oysters at all). they like milk a lot. i don’t. i also hate loud noises at home, yelling, and plastic toys look cheap and cluttery. so no, dear woman, i am not dying to have one.

the only time i EVER think kids are cute is when they are tiny little kids playing hockey. like the four-year-olds. oh man, i can’t explain it, but they kill me. little monsters on ice.

enjoy the golf course, detroit.

and yesterday, i signed papers to join the stanford university of retail operations:

yeah. that’s right. i’m your enabler now, here to dish out your technological mistresses over which you lust for months, then line up outside the store with all the other sweaty-palmed dorks who want the same damn thing, then you take her home and touch her in private.

well, not yet. i start training on 21 may.

in the meantime, i have to figure out if i’m going to keep both of these jobs or let the lower-paying, higher pressure one go. i’m not stranger to selling tea, but i’m new to the commission-based sales model and i have a lot of qualms about selling people extremely expensive tea with supposed health benefits. they make it seem like tea cures all, but guess what ? asians die too. all the time, every day. granted, the japanese seem to have a lock on the supercentarian set. but they still die a lot.

i’m definitely sad about not working in the library anymore, and realise that i may not get another opportunity to do so until i get a grad school internship, if that.

also on the day apple offered the job to me, i got an email saying that i was invited to take a test for the same library job i just got fired from (although this one comes with some semblance of benefits, and a guaranteed 20 hours a week–wow, twenty whole hours !). i don’t have much interest in switching to a new library, where i will be treated like shit because it’s a job 16-year-olds can do. but i’m a snobby Masters-less member of the library elite: my attitude and my ideas won’t get me very far without that degree, so why not go tell the public how to use an iPad ?

although, i will hand it to the tea people: this is one hell of a good product.

in addition to cheering for my #2 team, i am also preparing mentally for our #1 to face the aforementioned foes, zetty, datsyuk, and the rest of the detroit red wings. i am already thinking of more dirty russian phrases (pasha, i have some choice words about what a dog did to your mom), and boycotting IKEA for the duration of the series.

in order to be a sharks fan in the playoffs, you need a high degree of “mental toughness”, quite possibly the most talked about concept in all of hockey. we got through round one, now we steady ourselves for the fight against the red wings. i will need xanax.

side note: if anyone has an mp3 of the ENGLISH version of the “bleu blanc rouge” song–the one that’s like 20 years old and tremendously awkward–i will paypal you a real, live dollar.

i leave you with the best rap in the world ever, and for you non-francophones, i even bothered to find the subtitled version. vous me remercierez plus tard: