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April 2004
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June 2004

More ADD from Vegas

Y'allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll... How I have only sort-of missed you so. Today is the first day since Monday that I felt like ponying up the $9.99 per 24 hours for Internet access here at the hotel, as I have been too busy and too drunk to do it AND there was some crazy worm virus running amok at the trade show and hotel early in the week. (Take THAT, capitalism and investment conventions! Some 14-year-old locked in his hotel room while his parents went out and lost his college fund decided to hack Champion Rental Services and destroy all rented computers with a seriously annoying virus.) So I was scared to connect lest the clean and virgin Grand Duchess New Hotness become infected and maybe destroy my perfect FreeCell record. Also? Did. Not. Care. And I still really don't. But since I paid for the Internet to look up restaurant reviews, I might as well do something useful like post. So here. Post! I actually tried to write a post earlier in the week...a guest entry written by the Drunk Guy At Amy's Table during my Important Business Dinner on Tuesday. But it sucked because I was cranky and bitter over being... Read more →

Up On the Airplane

(Howdiddly-do from VEGAS, babies. Tons of hilariously mundane things happened to me today, as did some craptacular crappolish things. But I'm tired and desperately need to de-funktify and get all pretty for dinner so I'm just going to post a bunch of random crap I wrote on the plane.) I can now use approved portable electronic devices. Whee. I cannot, however, get up from my seat for another 20 minutes, since I flew out of Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. (And you MUST call it the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport at all times. It’s like, a federal crime not to.) Everybody must stay in their seat for the 30 minutes after take-off or before landing at the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, because the people who live outside the 30-minute diameter around the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport have it coming, frankly. (Note to self: Don’t let anyone on the airplane see that, ever, as it is Not Funny, Please Come With Me Ma‘am type material.) I barely got my suitcase zipped this morning as my insistence on bringing my own blowdryer (it’s ionic!) caused some space issues. As did my adorable new makeup bag from Target, which I... Read more →

Error: Memory Overload, Begin Nonsensical Ramblings Now

Done! Done done done done done! So while I wouldn't necessarily say I made them slut finals my bitch, I can at least say that I was not made a bitch of. Which is remarkable, taking into account the breathtaking amount of not-studying I did on Friday night. I mean, I tried. I started. I wrote some definitions of boldface words down in a notebook. And then I read a GQ from three months ago and watched TiVo'd goodness all night. (Confidential to ER: Shut up, ER. Why you make me cry so? I. Don't. Care. About. You. So stop making me cry over one more freaking dead baby. And maybe stop killing so many damn babies.) I even turned my phone off Friday night so I wouldn't be interrupted. Unfortunately, all this meant was that I missed Coleen's call when she was stranded with a flat tire (and pre-happy hour!) and needed distraction while she waited for a tow truck. Luckily, this meant that I was the recipient of the best voice mail ever, as it was in chapter form. Chapter form! With a narrative arc and everything! I love it and am never deleting it, ever. Anyway. Today... Read more →

The Not-Calm Before the Storm

Needless to say, I’ve been busy lately. And I mean busy as in bizzay. (Unless that only refers to busy as in gettin' bizzay. Because that? Not so much.) Ever since the horrific crapulence of Wednesday night, I've been a wee chicken running around with my damn head cut off. (Dude, the spell-checker totally says crapulence is a word. Is it? Heh.) Papers, studying, work…I won’t bore you with the details. Instead, I’ll bore y’all with a list! Yay for lists! Yay for no transitions or narrative cohesiveness! Yay for you shutting up about it! 1) I got the paper done. Or, as I like to put it, I made that slut paper my bitch. Which is how I’ve put it to quite a few people, none of whom found it as amusing as me. But I don’t care. Slut paper. Was made. My bitch. 2) The paper probably sucks. But I really don’t care. (Okay, yes. Yes I do care. Because I am a huge nerd who gets beyond worked up over grades. I get hives at the prospect of a B-. Which is really sad, because at 26 years old with a good job that really doesn’t care... Read more →

About Last Night

Right. So if you haven't read my mini-meltdown from earlier, go read it. Now here it is minute by minute super slow motion action. Whee. 6:00 p.m. Father-in-law calls. Will be in town tonight and wants to take us out for dinner. Hell yes! Leave work, with dry-cleaning that has been hanging on coat hook in office for a week, feeling immensely pleased with self. 6:33 Home. Messy, messy home. Toss dry-cleaning in heap on closet floor, shove all clutter into drawers, closets, etc. Feed poor starving (starving!) yowling cat and change into cute going-out-for-dinner outfit. 6:45 Boot up laptop. 6:55 God this laptop sucks ass. 7:03 Log onto online classroom to check for final exam review shit. 7:04 WHAT. THE. FUCK. 7:05 WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK 7:10 Call Jason in hysterics. 7:11 Jason: “What the FUCK?” 7:13 Sobbing gasping heaving panic attack. 7:13.57999 Flashbacks to every anxiety dream I’ve had about papers I didn’t know about, tests I didn’t study for and classes that I SWORE I DROPPED and what do you MEAN I’m still registered for and have to take a final in and I haven’t been to a single class and... Read more →

Haiku Smackdown VIII: 'Kuing On Da Bayou

Haiku for White Trash! And for each 'ku we write, an Olsen Twin gets fed. There's a bit of a theme this week, except for the very last picture, which I simply had to include because it's the scariest thing I've ever seen (and thank you very much Buzz). Yes, even scarier than the lady with the cup in her cleavage. Yes, scarier than back-hair man. Yes, I find the Olsen twins THAT FUCKING SCARY. (IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT: Click here for a bonus picture and sign of the coming apocalypse.) Read more →

Oh My God, Holy Shit, & I Am So Screwed

Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god I have final exams this Saturday. One at 9 a.m. and the other at 2 p.m. They are both essay tests, closed book. I just checked on my classes (they're both online through Univ. of MD) and found out the following: 1) One professor has seen fit to assign a 5-7 page paper. Due on Friday. The day BEFORE finals and the day AFTER tomorrow. This paper? 20% of my grade. 2) The final exam for this class looks to be a BITCH and is another 20% of my... Read more →

Ask Amalah

It's time to take a wee break from the multi-part journey of self-discovery, humilation and hairstyle traumas. Because today? Is the second installment of the Wednesday Advice Smackdown! (And tomorrow? I'll be hosting the Thursday Haiku Smackdown right heah! At this rate, I'll have some kind of Smackdown going on every damn day of the week by Christmas. And the joke will have worn very, very thin.) If you missed last week's column, the Advice Smackdown works like this: You send all your problems, questions and general bitchery to amy[at] with the subject line: "I'm a big four-eyed lame-o and I wear the same stupid sweater everyday." (And bonus points if you have a clue where that quote came from, including who said it in what context and can also recite my OTHER favorite quote from the same, I mean source.) And then on Wednesdays I answer your questions with my unique brand of life-affirming, problem-solving, self-exhalting wisdom. And I will link to you and you will be all famous and your existence will be justified. Unless you don't have a site, which in that case, I'm not sure you even technically exist, but I'll still answer your question.... Read more →

The Many Loves of Amalah, Part Three

Or, Church Youth Groups Ruin Young Lives After seventh grade, you might say that I had it coming. A nice big cosmic slap of karmic retribution across my snooty little backside. In eighth grade, it came. My school lost its lease at the end of seventh grade. The public school district needed the building back. My school did not really have its act together and didn’t start looking for a new building until like, July. Not surprisingly, that didn’t work out too well and the school closed its doors. (Or, “the school did not reopen its doors” if I’d like to make that sentence a TRIPLE negative. Boy crazy in English class much?) Amy was sent to a Catholic school in Trenton, N.J. Markthew and his family moved away, I think. Mattark and I were sent to another small Christian school about 25 miles away that my parents really couldn’t afford. A few other random dorks were sent there too—just enough to taint the entire batch of “LBCA transfers” and cause our new classmates to view us as one indistinguishable bloc of Loooosers. Mattark and I spoke on the phone once or twice over the summer but when school started... Read more →

The Many Loves of Amalah, Part Two

I saw Mean Girls this weekend. I love Tina Fey. Almost as much as BluePoppy loves Tina Fey. And almost as much as I love Mindy. It must be the glasses. There’s been a lot of weeping and gnashing of teeth around here lately over the often-unbelievable cruelty of children. Which is true. Kids are ruthless little bastards. Teenage girls are also ruthless little bastards, only with 97% less repentance, remorse and body fat. I wasn’t really any different. If I’d learned anything from Allison, the Original Queen Bee to my Wannabe, it was how to be a Mean Girl. So after reading Part Two you probably won’t love me so much. But I don’t care because I think the shirt you are wearing is totally ugly. And didn't you just wear it last Thursday? Jesus. I had absolutely nothing to do with boys for the rest of elementary school. Boys were yicky players of sports who would hit you in the head during dodge ball or grab your crotch as you came down the slide and this was if they LIKED you, so pffft on them. I transferred to a new school for seventh grade. It was, like every... Read more →