The honeymoon is over.

I've actually been thinking about the boy, especially after our date on Friday night, and bounced some things off of xalxuffasch over our Cafe Gardens lunch and laundry, then walkingshadow over Publix and Starbucks, coming inevitably to the same conclusion: We're completely incompatible.

( An itemized inventory of why. )

So, yes. I'm thinking one more date to see if I'm exaggerating any of that, but mostly, I think we're through here.

Quote of the Day:

Chris: "And I admit it, I trade my talent for money. I do it because I live in this world. I'm not an angel or a martyr. I'm happy that I get to do what I love and get paid extremely well for it. And that's what most people want. So if that makes me a whore, then pretty much everyone on the planet is a whore. Some of us are just luckier than others. I'm incredibly lucky. I know it. But I don't hold a gun to anyone's head. I don't force anyone to buy our records, or listen to our music. I work hard and honestly, and I'm not going to apologize for the fact that people like to listen to the music I like to make."
-Jae in Oddly Comforting, as recced by Miranda, and you really should go read the whole thing. I haven't seen this much amazing in that small a space since Tiff Rawlins' Save Yourself.

For the record, I'm personally fond of the word 'whore' and don't find it offensive unless it's said to be taken that way. I don't agree with Chris' ultimate conclusion though - rather, I think you're a whore if you like what you do. It's used, as Chris says, by men to speak derogatorily about strippers and porn stars, which is another definition entirely, but the connotation remains the same, and no one should have the power to make you feel bad about doing what you want/enjoy/love because it makes them feel insecure. There are things I'd give a lot of things for, but I don't think this cheapens me in any way.

P.S. Saw Lost In Translation last night. I've not felt like I wasted my time and money like that in a very long while. The theater was too cold (though they knew people would be wet from the rain), and I was bored to tears. Slice of life pieces are good when I care about the characters, and this did nothing for me.

P.P.S. GIP. Love that boy. And wow, this was long.

This post brought to you by a French test tomorrow morning, DayQuil, the SuperBowl, and work.

This office is a graveyard. There are only two copy editors here, and I'm the only one night editing. I'm thinking oogobs of AP stories and apologies in advance for the extraneous commas with regard to tomorrow's issue.

Also, Cameron isn't working tonight! Where's my happy, brainy, funny editor-in-chief? Laura, the managing editor is here, but even she's not half as much fun without him.

On another note, why did Janet even do the halftime show? She doesn't have anything to promote, right? What I'm snickering over is the possibility that they got her for Justin, or that Justin listed her as a clause in his performance contract. Teehee. *is twelve*

Quote of the Night:

"If I ever find out I only have 24 hours to live, I think I'm going to spend it playing football. That way it'll last at least a month."
-dacey

P.S. "I just want to get drunk, curl up in bed, and sleep."
-Brandy, copy editor

Amen to that. *kicks sniffles* I feel so last season.

P.P.S. Bwah! There's already a press release that came across the AP wires from CBS apologizing for the SuperBowl boob-flashing incident. So, apparently, not intended. What I love is Justin's face in the pictures, once he realizes he grabbed too much, the tactful averting of his eyes but too much in shock to actually react. Heh.