Hotty Toddy. Holy hell, I'm going to talk about football.

Okay, I'm not really going to talk about football. I don't know anything, and I don't care to. But I would like to talk about people, which I am quite good at. The target: a man calling himself "JT Bowtie." He is an Alabama supporter with a vlog about SEC football. Mainly what he does is talk about why Alabama will kick ass, and then he will make fun of everyone that goes to the opposing university. Still, he does not offend me. I do go to Ole Miss. There's a lot to make fun of, just as there is with any school, though I think Nike running shorts are more prevalent on my campus than most. My complaint: his hair. Firstly, watch this video:



See the hair? Upon looking at this guy, I immediately had one thought, and one thought only:


"This man looks exactly like a Ken doll." The Ken I had in 1990. Plastic hair, plastic chest, probably plastic underwear and man bits. Upon looking at a calendar, I notice that it is not 19 years ago, so why does his hair look like it is?

It's Dan! Dan's my man!

Oh, Dream Phone, how I loved playing you. We had such good times. Unless you made Spencer be my crush. He was such a dork. I must find a copy of this game. I must.

Imaginary Places I Want to Visit

Hogwarts: For anyone who knows even the slightest bit about me, my wish that Hogwarts were a real place is in no way surprising. It is freaking awesome. Wizards. Moving stairs. House elves. Quidditch. Pumpkin juice. I just peed a little thinking about it.
It's a castle. A magical castle of magic.


The Jetsons' house: The future is so kick ass. I want to fly around in my car with the ice cream sundae I got out of the food machine thing while talking to Elroy on the visaphone.


Land of the Lost: Those people got to hang out with dinosaurs. And that chick named Christa. And battle Sleestaks. And eat strange fruits. They had three moons visible in the daytime. They lived in a tree house. And that Jeep never, ever ran out of gas.
Check out that tree house.

Bedrock: After mentioning both the Jetsons and the dinosaur-loving Land of the Lost, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the hometown of the Flintstones and the Rubbles. You have got to admire that stone age ingenuity.

Makes me want sweet and sour bronto ribs with lizard gizzard sauce

Volume 2 is soon to come...

Bitch, please.

Bitch, please.
Sometimes really rude people call Rowan Oak. And there's nothing I can do about it. And I can never help them with their bitchy complaints. I can't make it less muddy. I can't make the stairs any less steep. I can do nothing to change to the overall location of the house. And you can't get in for free, old people. Stop trying. And you, redneck momma lady. Learn some phone etiquette. You don't just repeatedly blurt out, "Well whadda ya got?" on the phone. And I can't help that we aren't a children's museum. My point: quit your bitching. Or I'll cut off your finger and give you something worthy of actual bitching.

Urine
Green tea looks like piss. So does this glass of stuff in my refrigerator. I've been told that it's passionfruit (yes, passionfruit, Miranda) juice, but I don't know if I trust this source. Because she leaves Nutella spoons lying about my house and steals my shit.

Topix
Sometimes I spend many hours of my life reading Topix forums from my hometown. And all I can think is "Damn. Spelling and grammar pose problems for these people." I seriously sometimes cannot understand the postings because no one uses a period in the correct place. And when they do put a period, there is no subject. S+V+O, people.

Fame! She's gonna live forever...

I just saw Rachel Jenkins on the TV Guide Channel. What the hell? Rachel on the same show as Justin Guarini? Why do I know who Justin Guarini is?

Thumbs of Fury and a Qwerty Keyboard, Among Other Things

Why do I have to know someone on American Idol? It makes me feel compelled to vote for him. For a long time, I refused. I was not going to cave. And then I did. He's in the finale, so I just had to vote. And I did. Kris Allen, you got many votes from me. And that last song you sang was terrible. Kara DioGuardi wrote you guys a heaping pile of shit.

I voted in between preparing resumes and job applications. I really need one of those job things.

Oh, good. Kris won. Now life can go on. Maybe Kris could do UCA commercials instead of Scottie Pippen.

Supreme

I have done it. Paramount levels of procrastination. Procrastination in the way of I need another semester to graduate. Nope, didn't finish that thesis. I am such a winner.

Don't I ever talk about anything but that damn thesis? No, I don't.

There's just nothing else to discuss in my life. People are graduating. Finding jobs. Getting married. Adopting puppies. I ain't doin' shit. To ejemplar this for you, I proffer up the top ten most interesting things happening in my life right now:

1. My phone is on its deathbed.
2. I got a free American Apparel shirt.
3. I have to average final grades.
4. I read some Hemingway.
5. Rent is due soon.
6. I need to find a dress to wear to a wedding.
7. I can never get the pillow nest on my bed just right.
8. Grocery shopping needs to happen.
9. I made this list.
10. I can't even make it to ten.

This is what I have to work with. Life needs a little flair. Maybe I'll get some buttons for life's metaphoric apron. Or I'll make a drink. Vodka tonic, anyone?

Needs

1. Jillian needs to do something besides her all alone, unrelenting mourning.
2. Jillian needs her tonsils and adenoids out.
3. Jillian needs to get her own style, and she needs to stop dressing like she's 23 and on The Hills.
4. Jill needs a Jack.
5. Jillian needs to earn enough money to buy a skateboard that costs $48.50.
6. Jillian needs to be more hyper.
7. Jillian needs a bit of help out.
8. Jillian needs to start acting her age.
9. Jill needs some lovin'.
10. Jillian needs to open her mind to the fact that a calorie is not just a calorie.

If you're into it

Don't tell Micaela, but I am not in fact writing my thesis. Like I should be. I'm doing this and being the giant Facebook stalker that I am. Such is life.

The thesis is coming along, however. Though it is killing my soul a little bit. The other day I caught myself lisping like a damn Spaniard. As much as I love the españoles, I would like to hold on to my very Americanized Chilean accent. It's got soul. Lisping just has cheap imitation. I didn't live these movies. I DID live the insanity that is Chile, though. Now that I am back in the United States, I need to hold on to all the Chilean that I can. If I don't, it will float away, and I am worried that I will forget that it really happened. I will have vague memories, but it will be like recalling a TV show.

Ugh. I feel all emo. I am just tired of graduate school. If I don't finish soon, I'm dropping out. And living a life where I just read books. In English.

Hijo de puta

Oh, Life, you harsh mistress, why must you always kick me squarely in the ass? This weekend I finished chapter one of my thesis. And then on Sunday I discovered that it had disappeared. So, yeah. I cried for a bit or two hours. And then I just started rewriting it. What more could I do? So, it's looking doubtful that I will finish this thing. Who really needs a Master's degree anyway?

Hello, peer pressure.

I did it. I gave it. I twitter. Damn it. Find it at https://twitter.com/jillybobatine.

And I never spell my nickname the same way twice. Jillybobatine. Or Jillabobatine. I couldn't even find my own website for a really long time.

What to do...

Maybe I should just take up Twittering. My most interesting thoughts are rarely more than a sentence long.

This weekend is a marathon movie-watching event:
Belle Epoque
La Flor de Mi Secreto
Carne Tremula
Matador
Laberinto de Pasiones
Goodbye, Lenin! (for kicks).

¡Llegué!

Where the hell have I been? I have abandoned my former project of importing all my old blogs onto Blogspot. Screw that. You all can just go to my old blog and read them, if you so choose: spaces.msn.com/jirrp.

Well, what has happened since the ill-fated blog transfer? Last I wrote, I was living in Chile, enjoying the good life. Boy, has that changed. I am back en los Estados Unidos. I miss my life of doing nothing, going to the beach, drinking piscolitas, and getting paid for it. Now I have to be an adult. Que fome.

Since the last blog, I came back to the U.S. As I already said. Redundant much? I had some Christmas time with my biological family (as opposed to the adoptive Chilean one.) I then fell down a stair and broke my foot. Yay for that. A few weeks of me sleeping passed, and then I came back to Oxford to be reunited with my dear Miranda Cully. And what do you know, a week later she done got engaged. May she and Dollie be happy forever. Nelson, too. I started teaching, much to my chagrin. I hated it, but a week later it suddenly got better when I discovered I got a pay raise for teaching. So naturally I celebrated by buying a Wii. As if I don't waste enough time. I am trying to write a thesis in the midst of this teaching/Wii/wedding planning mess, but sadly it's taken a back burner. I do work on it while I'm at Rowan Oak, which is nice because I am getting paid for that.

Okay, so that's really all. You've been caught up in a fast-forward, IMDB synopsis kind of way.

Chau. Que te vaya bien.