Most Awesome Friend of Honor aka MAFoH

MAFoH-- pronounced exactly how it looks. And it is my new word for what I used to call Maid of Honor or Matron of Honor. NO LONGER! I hereby denounce the title of Maid/ Matron of Honor! Ew to the Ma to the id-- I refuse to be called a maid or a matron.

Pardon the random ranting, but I just sent out the RSVP cards for all THREE weddings I am attending this summer. And during these actions of licking the envelopes, signing my name, check marking "will attend" and then writing a number 1 next to it got me thinking about the title of "Maid of Honor" and how I oh-not-so-pleasantly get to mark it on my list of things I have been called.

After rereading my last sentence I see how this sounds reaaallly bad, and I just want to make clear it is not the actual position of, actions associated with, or my badass BFF who has named me her Maid of Honor that I dislike. I am so happy to be Amos's MAFoH. When else is it socially appropriate to buy a 24 pack of penis straws and hand them out at a party? Crap...who am I kidding? I've done this before! But no seriously, I love my Amos. I have known her since 4th grade, and she is one of the most down-to-earth, trustworthy, best of friends a person could ever ask for. I am truly honored that she asked me to play such a huge part in her wedding. Plus, her and Billy might possibly be the coolest couple ever! It is merely the title of Maid that puts an unwanted ruffle in my ruffled underwear. And I can only imagine the convulsions that would ensue after learning of the historical derivations of such titles. This case of ignorance most definitely is bliss.

I wrote it once and I'll write it again. EW! to the MA to the ID. But I LOVE YOU, AMOS! I love you for many reasons, but now more than ever because you aren't making me wear anything anywhere close to this:



or this:




Actually, I probably would wear the second one. If you, Amy, bought your own penis straws and allowed me to house a TBD man under my skirt for the duration of the ceremony, I'd wear it.

Prepare to Read the Ramblings of a Burnout, Scattered Brain:

I love my computer. I love being geeky on my computer. And I love writing. But not this past week--hence, the lack of blog postings. Don't be alarmed (this is almost a moment of talking to myself). I will continue to post. This blog will not go down the gutter like all my past blogs. My brain has just taken a vacation this week. After staring at Microsoft Word nonstop for at least a week and pumping out close to 60 pages of mad, sweet, critical, thought-provoking (arguably) media studies goodness, I have been able to justify doing a lot of nothing. And I say nothing very loosely, bc extending your arm and putting it towards your mouth counts as something...and while doing this movement repeatedly I should not disregard the many interesting things I have added to my list of to-dos this summer. A list includes, but definitely is not limited to:

1) change my cell phone plan to add more texts, 2) go see more live music, 3) learn new recipes-- particularly those using tofu, 4) start running, 5) watch a lot of HBO, 6) see the new Sex and the City movie, 7) go to NYC and Chicago, 8) go to the top of the Empire State Building, 9) find a new drink to replace my go-to vodka tonic, 10) watch Golden Girls reruns, 11) do a lot of karaoke, 12) take my little sister to King's Island, 13) avoid catching Amos's flower bouquet like the plague, 14) sit on Brent's parents couch for at least a 10-hour period w/o moving (unless for food, drink, or restroom break, of course), 15) make my blog spiffier!, 16) see bands I both love and have never heard of at Pitchfork, 17) read a shit-ton, 18) find new restaurants in Austin, 19) find new restaurants in Indianapolis, 20) meet new people, 21) spend time with my "old" people, 22) figure out what PhD programs Im going to apply to, 23) take my dogs on walks, 24) go camping, 25) get a new tattoo, 26) watch a lot of Netflixs, 27)GO PICK UP MY FRIENDS AT THE AIRPORT! YAY!

Meta My Language (or Life), Baby...

I don't really have time to go into major commentary for this video. I am mid- boxing match with Homi Bhabha, and he won't stop mimicking me (ha, had to...). But I think this video "speaks" for itself anyway:


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