This Film Is On.

Reason #1: I got married. 

On September 29th. It was a pretty awesome day. 

Then we honeymooned in Northern California. That was pretty great too. It was my first time on the west coast, and I miss it/In-N-Out Burger already. 

I have yet to change my last name, but will! Shortly! And not just because I heard my W2 will be messed up if I don’t ASAP! (Leave me alone!)

(Sidenote: We haven’t even shared wedding pictures with Facebook. So feel honored, Tumblr.) 

Reason #2 About a month ago, we got a dog.

He’s also pretty great. We rescued him at the Humane League, and he was listed as a Jack Russell Mix - We’re 99.9% positive his other half is Beagle. Thus, he’s a Jackabee. 

We named him Burly. It’s a Parks & Recreation reference, as well as a Simpsons reference - and we both thought it was pretty great.

I have no clue how this guy was found as a stray with no ID, since he came equipped with a bunch of training under his belt. He’s approximately a year and a half, and we adore him.

That being said:

1. Expect me to update more often.

2. Expect a lot of those updates to be pictures of my dog. 

I know I’m not big on tumblr, but just in case - have any of you had a cat get stuck inside a couch before? 

I couldn’t find Finn yesterday during my lunchbreak, and didn’t think much of it. But then when I came home and she was still missing, I felt ill. In fact, I couldn’t eat my dinner of hot dogs (prepared by Greg, kindly) until she was found. We seriously tore up the entire apartment for about an hour, and then resorted to looking under trees and bushes outside. I started to panic, as - I love this cat. Like, her and I are best friends. (At least, she’s my best friend. She might be best friends with a plastic bag. I never asked.)

Long story short, she was inside the smaller of our two couches. (For those of you who are like, “how can a cat get inside a couch?!”, just check how thin that decorative lining is underneath. And how easily that decorative lining gets destroyed with two moves and cat ownership.) We estimate she might have gotten stuck inside for about 7 hours. Which is horrific.

When I tore open the lining to free her, she gave me a look of pure love. Or, her eyes got bigger than normal. I’m probably totally reading into the exchange that took place. As she left the couch, she kind of walked with a wobble, similar to every movie I’ve seen that involves a cow birth/newborn calf. I made sure she ate, and she was super affectionate. Greg and I were total heroes.

She’s been clingy ever since - like, following me around, and staring at me. 

I’m not complaining, as it’s adorable and really ups my ranking against that aforementioned plastic bag, but… I’m starting to worry that now she feels like she owes me a favor. “HEY MAN. YOU SAVED MY LIFE, I SAVE YOURS.”

I also felt compelled to share, since oddly enough, “my cat is stuck in the couch” got few results on google. I hoped there’d be a traumatized cat forum, with a “couch incident” subforum I could contribute to. 

*Okay, I kind of intended it. 

If I could have attended any event in the history of - well, at least my 28 years on Earth?

This. Always this.

Amy Poehler sings “Bad Reputation” with the Foo Fighters at the SNL finale afterparty. Makes me smile every time I see it. 

My dear friend Dan reminded me that I haven’t posted anything to Tumblr in about a month. So, here are some interesting tidbits!

#1 - I had my wedding tasting on Saturday, and looked over some linen patterns.

Me in 2009: If I ever get married, I won’t stress about stupid things like linens.

Me Now: WHAT COLOR WILL THE NAPKINS BE? THIS CAN RUIN EVERYTHING.

I think we’re decided, but we go over centerpieces this upcoming weekend. I’m sure this step will only fry my brain on the issue even more. The one thing we decided on is no table runners. I’m both proud and ashamed to know what the hell a table runner is, after 28.4 successful years of not knowing. 

#2 - I’m actually quite ashamed over the fact that I always thought that LeVar Burton hosted NickArcade. He was on Jimmy Fallon the other day, being awesome, and this conversation happened:

Me: I hope he mentions NickArcade

Greg: .. Why would he mention NickArcade?

Me: He hosted it.

Greg: He definitely did not. 

Me: Greg, trust me. He hosted it. *Karen looks on wikipedia* … Shit. Wow. Well, the guy who hosted it was famous for something else.

Greg: I think the guy who hosted it only did NickArcade.

Me: *Karen looks back on wikipedia* Damn it! You’re right. Seriously, my mind is blown right now. 

… See, I’m ashamed since I pride myself on knowing dumb trivia about old school Nickelodeon. Ask anyone, it’s the one thing I’m good at. And this should have been common knowledge for jerks like me. I’m like the person on Wheel of Fortune who chokes, and guesses a letter that’s already on the board despite taking several tests to get to that point. I mean, I still google-search for Donnie Jeffcoat news whenever the opportunity arises (pretty much once a month) which highlights this petty devastation even more. 

Sigh.

Sidenote: I saw a butterfly the other day, and the theme from Reading Rainbow has been in my head since. So I think I made it up to LeVar. 

#3 While walking around Downtown Lancaster this weekend, this sign was spotted:

This is the most terrifyingly uninformative bulletin ever. Since, A) Are you telling me I should look out for a coyote? And B) There is no B, or further points. Is there a coyote, or what?

Alright, I’m re-convinced. Tumblr-ing is fun. I’ll make sure to be more Tumblry in the future. 

was find a really stupid game on my Kindle called “Style Me Girl”. I then proceeded to play this game for roughly six hours. I had to talk myself out of not using real, human money to get to the next level - but trust me, I was tempted.

I then took a break from the game to make hot dogs.

That is all. 

While in Brooklyn last weekend, I decided to buy a book on my new Kindle at Leigh’s apartment, just in case the shoddy Wifi on the train would punk out - as it did on the way there. Leigh suggested “The Fault In Our Stars” by John Green, which she said “was a Young Adult novel that will be made into a movie soon, but it’s good!” I trusted her opinion. And read that shit in less than a day.

The problem? Now I think I’m obsessed with it. I already started a re-read (keep in mind, I bought it on Sunday and it’s currently Tuesday) and have googled reviews since I finished. The book isn’t even great, but it just sucks you in. I’m also trying to figure out who they’ll cast for the film, and I’m crossing my fingers that it’s not Shailene Woodley. Even though I never saw The Descendents, I did see the first season of “The Secret Life of the American Teenager”, and it’s horrible.

Seriously. Now I can, at least, identify with all those Harry Potter nerds I’ve made fun of prior. Sigh.

Honestly? When the movie comes out, I can’t even drag Greg to see it. He suffered enough when I made him sit through the horrific experience of “Post Grad”.

I’ve owned a digital camera since digital cameras had the capability of only holding 25 pictures, and weighed a ton. I was like the Zack Morris of digital cameras.

The con is, I always feel tempted to look back at old pictures I took, that I can’t upload to facebook without people thinking I’m clinging to the past. (Which I kind of am. Kind of. Maybe?) I’m so happy that websites like “webshots” still exist in some mutated form, since that was like the flickr/snapfish of 2003. It was honestly where everyone uploaded photos, during that awkward span of time between One-Hour Photo and the internet getting truly awesome. 

That being said, I resurrected this picture of me and my friend Jodie (a new mother to an absolutely gorgeous baby boy, by the way) at some lame Millersville event.

I honestly can’t believe that I fell into the “bare midriff” trend. I also can’t believe that I wore a shirt for a drink I had maybe twice, and deemed “too expensive”. And thirdly? That jean skirt was about ten years old by the time this was taken, and I have yet to find a decent replacement. I won’t lie - I miss it, even today. I think I finally had the guts to sacrifice it to either Goodwill or The Garbage Can about 3 years ago. Even though it had the weird man-bulge and “looks like I had an accident” fade you might see in the front since Day 1. 

But all in all, I’m so happy the internet kept this account active. Seriously. This was from way before I was smart enough to remember how important tangible photo albums are.

On Sunday, I was like “I’m not feeling too great.” Monday, I felt slightly worse. I decided to “go to work, disclaim I felt like garbage, and see how the day went.” The day was manageable. Tuesday, however? I woke up, half delusional, feeling like a snot monster. Everything hurt. I called off, feeling guilty (but honestly, even I didn’t want to be around me in the garbage state I was in) and sat around in crusty pajamas, half-listening to a rerun of the Comedy Awards. You know, the only Awards show that recognizes Parks & Recreation*. Multiple random naps were taken. 

That day of being useless made Wednesday and today a bit better - while I’m nowhere near 100%, I’ve still managed to be a functioning adult who has accomplishments besides “I took a shower today” and “I made a Soup At Hand, even though I really didn’t feel up to it.”

Seriously. I have a sneeze-line. An actual wrinkle formed based on my sickness.

So, okay. I took this scary giant picture of my face 10 seconds ago to try and prove the line, but my camera phone is literally the worst ever. It doesn’t even have any type of flash, so my “pictures” usually look like sad shadows. Honestly? It’s not a very big line. I can see it, but I doubt anyone else can.

The truly terrible part is, IT HURTS. IT HURTS TO SMILE. AND I SMILE ALL THE TIME. Really! Sometimes I’m smiling, and someone asks me what’s so funny, and NOTHING IS. MY DEFAULT IS A SMILE. I HAVE TO MAKE UP SOMETHING, SINCE “MY DEFAULT IS A SMILE” IS THE LAMEST SENTENCE.

*I reminded myself - Y’all should watch the Parks & Rec finale tonight. I’m watching it solo, while eating a large amount of celebratory Old Bay shrimp. Surrounded by my pile of tissues. I’m the worst person. 

**Based on tissue snobbery, all of the tissues used between Sunday night and today included menthol and/or lotion. That’s how hardcore my situation is. 

Our family owns an apartment in New York City, and my Dad has been staying there for a day or so every week. For a few weeks, he’s used the excuse of “fixing up the apartment” for the visits, but recently, he’s been more involved with the NYC lifestyle - for example, tonight he told me of a horrific/entertaining bus venture to The Strand.

After reciting the story, I told him I was proud of him for taking the risks for a new adventure. “Back in Woodbridge, the big news of the day was when someone walked by with their dog,” he said. “Besides the bus mishap, I passed two protests on my way to the bookstore.” 

My Dad and I are pretty much cut from the same fabric. We enjoy life at a simple speed, but I feel like we both kind of seek adventure that isn’t always present. He kind of inspired me tonight, to go outside of my comfort zone. After all, here are two pictures I took of my “night adventures”:

My cat really likes pretzels.

And!

I ate this questionable, crab-flavored popcorn tonight.

(By crab-flavored, I assumed they meant Old Bay. It tasted nothing like expected, but could be blamed if I end up in the hospital in the next 24 hours.)