Is Steve Wozniak still single?

I don't even have my new MacBook at home yet (it's still at the Apple store where all my music, pictures, and porn are being transferred on), but already I'm becoming an annoying Mac person. All I do is look up applications and widgets to download once I get it. I have decided that I will need daily sunrise and sunset times for every location in the world, 4 different versions of Freecell, a simulated rollercoaster ride, a demo version of Jeopardy, Passport Photo Studio which will allow me to take and print my own passport photo, 2 jigsaw puzzle games, and the Urban Dictionary word of the day. Will I use any of these things? Probably one of the Freecell games. And maybe I'll give Jeopardy a whirl, but I can definitely see myself giving up after completely bombing on the World History category.

I won't shut up about all the wonderful things iWork can do. But really - how often will I use a Yard Sale template or a keynote presentation? I mean, I could make a slammin' keynote file for Walter about how the kitchen sink is not an appropriate place to urinate blood, but I'm guessing he just won't listen nor appreciate it. I haven't spent the $49 yet on this software, but I'm going to download the free trial and see if I like it. My other option is to download Neo Office, the Mac version of Open Office. And while I'm sure this will more than do the job for standard word and excel type of applications, there's just something about iWork that is calling out to me and begging me to purchase it.

I'd say the thing I'm most excited about with my new Mac is the iMovie feature. I've (clearly) never made a movie. But now that I have some great software that is so user friendly, I think I'm going to make a movie about everything I can. Potential topics: 1) A documentary on the dude who works at the library - Why is he so quiet? Why does he cross his legs like that? Is he 25 or 45? Why does he print out the receipt every time for me when he sees me go outside and immediately throw it in the trash can? 2) A Fight Club montage of Harvey pummelling Walter. (Seriously. You should see these guys wrassle.) 3) A birthday movie for my Mom complete with clips of me perusing JDate.com, using coupons at CVS, calling Nana to say hello, and taking down the picture she hates of her and my Dad where she's not wearing makeup.

Irregardlessly of what I make my movies about, you can be sure that I will (at least try to) embed them in this blog. So get ready. My new MacBook will benefit everyone.

Have I mentioned I'm excited???

Where am I even going with this thing?

I've only written about 6 entries since I got back from London. Apparently I was bored enough in London to write an amusing couple of paragraphs each day. And now that I'm back in Boston, I've been distracted with things like pissing cats, fixing my surround sound home theater, creating excel spreadsheets to adequately track overtime, joining a gym and figuring out how to make my arms look more toned without injuring myself, stealing the Wall Street Journal every day, buying awesome new Merrell shoes, remembering that Nip/Tuck is on at 10 pm every Tuesday night, and making trips to the bathroom at work with Theresa when I only have to go 50% of the time.

I miss writing. I don't miss stressing out that it's 11:30 pm and I haven't written my daily entry yet and oh my God I'm totally gonna let everyone down. But I do want to start writing again on a more consistent basis. I think it makes me a better person since, if I weren't writing, I'd just be watching another episode of the Food Network Challenge. And I swear...whoever does the program scheduling at the Food Network should be shot. Because the 7 pm timeslot is like, so amazingly precious, and they are fucking it up by putting a shitty show like that in there. Sure, I watch it. But not because I like it; I watch it because I need something to entertain me while I make my Kraft macaroni and cheese and the people on Wheel of Fortune are dolts.

Sometimes I make a deal with God in my head. I tell him that I will give him $1,000 if he can make my body instantly look like that Biggest Loser trainer, Jillian's, body. But then I realize that once I have that body, I would probably lose all its definition in about a week ('cause of, you know, candy). So I call off the deal.

Ted posed an interesting question at the Celtics game the other day. He asked if I would pay $1,000 to take a free throw shot. If I make it, I win $1,000,000. I can't remember if I said yes or no. My current answer would be 80% yes, 20% no. Which isn't really an answer at all.

Meowr

I have two cats. I named them Harvey and Walter. When I chose those names, I didn't realize I had a cousin Harvey whose father's name was Walter. I just chose them because they were awesome old man names.
(Harvey is currently lying on top of Walter. I'm not exaggerating. He is lying horizontally on top of him. I'm actually quite worried about this since he weighs a staggering 13 pounds (he's not even 1 year old) and Walter weighs probably 6 pounds soaking wet. I'll keep you updated on the situation.)
Anyway, so yeah. Cats. They're pretty good to have, I reckon. They'll curl up with you when you're watching your fourth straight episode of Law and Order SVU. They'll lick your eyelids at 5:15 am because hey, it's time to get up already, you lazy ass. They'll preen and groom each other and you will wonder what kind of wonderful world we would live in if humans treated each other with that level of care. And they will wrestle with each other, occasionally doing stunts that are all too reminiscent of Keanu Reeve's mid-air attacks in The Matrix.
(Walter has become fed up with the extra poundage lying on top of him and has maneuvered his way out of the body hold. I don't think Harvey even noticed.)
But you know...cats can also suck. They can contract UTIs and pee on your bed, in your bathroom sink, in a stray cardboard box, on your bathroom floor, in their cat carrier, and in your bathtub all in a matter of 45 seconds (2 drops in each location). At first you might be annoyed by this seeing as how washing a comforter every night of your life isn't the most relaxing chore. But then you will realize that maybe you shouldn't get pissed every time you come home to your apartment and find a yellow puddle in the middle of your pillow. Because your kitties are sick. And they're probably either in pain or very uncomfortable. And you should go and hug them.
In conclusion, cats are fun. Urine-filled, but fun.

Don't even get me started on the woman who breathed onto my neck while I was waiting to get off the plane

There are a lot of things about airports that are unbearably frustrating. I won't list them all because I'm sure you know most of them; and plus, it would only make me mad and I'm trying to focus on being positive these days. But here's something travelers do that is just mindboggling idiotic and needs to be whined about:

There are assholes out there who are under the impression that 96% of the bags that come out onto the baggage claim could be theirs. I don't care if they have a bright fuscia suitcase with a pink polka dotted dragon embroidered on the front with an orange tongue, a green cape with a 'D' on it (for Dragon, obviously), and blue flames shooting out its nose. They will pick up every single suitcase and check all 4 handles for nametags, airport tags, rainbow pom poms, and duct tape to see if it's theirs. Then, when they realize that a black Samsonite isn't at all what their bag looks like, they will throw it back onto the conveyor belt...only to pick it up again when it comes back around.

This morning I saw a woman pick up a two-tone colored car seat (and I'm talkin' bright colors, not just like beige and black or something), inspect it carefully, and then put it back. Douchebag.