good morning america has almost entirely changed their on-air staff.
gone is the feel-good mindset that was so en-vogue under the old guard
replace, now, by the national candy-coated "news" equivalent of that douchetruck who does the vegas weather (the one that i infamously blogged about EVERY FUCKING MORNING two years ago, when he would say shit like "FLEA! THERE'S A ROCK AND ROLL GUY NAMED FLEA!"):
to begin with, his name is sam champion. CHAMPION. jesus christ, when your family name is "champion" you probably say things like "oh, that's just how lupe and i joke-she doesn't even HAAAVE a home!" secondly, he makes it his goal to antagonize diane sawyer and whats-her-face at every single turn, and just generally be a useless bright-smile talking face...who now has short, spikey hair.
i am really, really nonplussed. what happened to the triumphant trio of al, diane and matt (matt matt matt matt?matt!matt.matt;matt?!)? i don't enjoy disquiet with my coffee, but it seems as of late it's the only additive available.
tomorrow's valentine's day, and i am kinda unsure how i feel. last year, right around this time, i'd ended a really dumb pseudorelationship, and had fallen face-first into bad habits. i don't even really remember the last "good" valentines day where i was attached to someone in...ages.
my girlfriend is 900 miles away, and i'm left with this for tomorrow night:
no, not the new-new cohost of GMA, it's barbara delinsky. i'm sure the event will be racist rip-off-chopin fun for the whole family-because, uh...i wonder how many private liberal arts school english degrees will be in attendance? well, who has two thumbs and is gonna be bummed as fuck?
<-------------------- this guy.
but i guess in my adulthood, especially the very-much-alonetime i've had over the past couple of years, has helped perfect the blinders-on narrow focus (stare at the little dot, stare at the little dot you're NOT lonely YOU. ARE. NOT. LONELY. JUST. KEEP. MOVING. FORWARD. FIRST. LEFT. FOOT.), so this is all the acknowledgement of exactly *how much* having someone i'm in love with be 900 miles away (isn't that an at the drive-in lyric?) will suck-but it's a minor complaint. we'll have our valentines day, just late.
better late than pregnant.
it seems, by the way, that TAXTIME 2007 (said in the same voice as jerri blank exclaiming "TUB TIME! TUB TIIIIME!") has simulatenously begun and ended:
i got my w2s and processed my taxes over the weekend, and i have a nice amount coming back-enough to take care of some bills and get myself to new york at some point after lucy's spring break but before her graduation, so that we can do the new york coupley stuff that we've yet to do.
however, what i didn't see on the h&r block site, but got a notice about this morning in my always-fascinating gmail spam:
and, alas, it's an offer that i can't now claim, because my tax filing is complete. what'll i have to gnosh on as a way of quieting my valentines day so-lonesome-i-could-cry/die/fry sorrows?
the valentines day pack lucy sent me (is it odd that i can't write "v-day", because, to ME, that always means the opening night of a run of the vagina monologues?) has that in it...and it was in mental floss this morning.
i have so much fucking writing i have to do today, and there may be some major, major fucking news on the work front that would slam my half-hearted attempts at "taking it easy" and "relaxing" into a solid brick wall, and put me back into 7am-9pm days. however, it would be the fucking announcement i've been waiting to make. we'll see.