My apartment looks like … whatever Dee’s equivalent of “shit” would be. I have to be all packed by Thursday night, at which point I’m jetting off to MI again (!!!), this time with the esquire-in-training (EIT. Get it? It’s the unhappy-face version of EIC) in tow. I’m officially moving next Tuesday.

I took the liberty of whipping up an omelette-like composition of everything left in my refrigerator, as if this was an appropriate “farewell” testament to the apartment as a whole. It sort of makes sense. As much as I like to think the world revolves around me, all the energy in this apartment has revolved around the fridge. I don’t even pretend to compete anymore.

I’ll try to take more pics of the Midwest while I’m there, since apparently the fruit market ones were a hit.

Another eventful time at Rose’s Turn.

Zach and I display our $2 street-bought gay gear. Yay Pride!

Michael Dionne gave us free shots! We love Michael Dionne!

This is Guillaume, from France. He thought we wouldn’t get it, but we do. It’s William in French. Go Guillaume!

Alex belts it out. Summertime. You go, grrrrrl.

Michael Dionne is under the sea. We love him and his funky props.

Zach just got hit on by two 50-year-olds. Hooray for Rose’s Turn!

An excerpt from Dee-mail:

“You do NOT look chunky!
You need to get a few more skirts to wear !
You would make the Mawmee happier to reduce the f-word usage !
Thank you very much for this opportunity to let you know the above info — knowing #3 is a stretch.
: ) “

Okay. Thanks. Actually, I will try to tone down the f-bomb. I think it’s trashy when I read it in other people’s stuff so I don’t know why I do it sometimes. A good writer shouldn’t have to use expletives to create emphasis. What the fuck are you implying?

Note my mom’s not-so-subtle hints that I should dress more like a lady. I knew she’d salivate over photographic evidence of me in a skirt. Yeah, well, she’s the only one. Worthless… fucker. Also note her entirely cute way of “spacing out” her smileys. Awww.

Today I met Online Kelly for happy hour at Duke’s because she was in midtown for company training and I felt like going to work at 7:30 tipsy. Seeing her was amazing. Oh wait. That was the nachos. Seeing her was pretty fun.

Will somebody (Kelly, ironically this could be you) please tell me how to get rid of red-eye? Why am I the only one it happens to? Life sucks.

Look who popped in after a hard day’s stare session! It’s the editor in chief!

Today I lunched at the Civil Service Commissioner’s local branch of KFC, which you already know if you’re a Platinum-level stalker and checked my away message from today. This sadly threatened to be the most exciting thing I would do all week, so I took some photos.

Josh and Larry in their suits.

Larry works hard for the no money.

Josh’s expression hints at what the fatter version of him would be … as soon as he finishes that bucket.

Cause and effect? Either way, the one on the left is hilarious. Sorry about the flash.

If I DO experience anything more exciting by the end of the week, I’ll promptly delete this post and swear it never happened.

I have a confession to make.

In the past few weeks I have watched ENTIRE EPISODES of Dr. Phil. It’s after The Ellen Show on WLNY (TV-55!) on weekdays right before I have to shower for my “job.” I used to turn it off in sheer disgust - I hate Dr. Phil’s voice, his fucking shiny scalp, and the way his eyes bug out whether he’s surprised or not (considering his guests on the show he might legitimately be perma-surprised. Or maybe he’s had Botox.)

I’m pretty sure the reason I actually started staying tuned to this crap show is because the people are so royally, yet REALISTICALLY, fucked up. The trashy people on Springer or Montel, I don’t even really buy their problems. I assume they just want a free overnight stay in a hotel and the chance to be on television. But Dr. Phil’s “patients” are seriously pathetic. You almost feel for them.

Another reason for my unforgivable viewing of this show is that I have magical powers of convincing myself that any of these people’s situations could be my own someday. One mother lives in fear of her knife-wielding, hyper-violent four-year-old son. Another couple have “come to terms” with the fact that one of them is gay and now don’t know what to do. One part of me is thinking, “Shit. I’m very drawn to gay people, and I’m terrified of children. This is totally gonna be me.” The other part is all, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? MORONS! And yet they’re so normal-looking that you can’t blame them. How did that happen to such nice poeple? I don’t know so I better stay tuned and find out what Dr. Phil says so that I can avoid and possibly even prevent gay husbands and killer tots in the future! Shit.

The woman on the show right now (three-time adulterer, pregnant with another man’s baby) looks exactly like Linda Cardellini. It’s a little off-putting because I’m positive I hate this woman, but I really like Linda Cardellini. Dr. Phil, help me figure out what to think!

Debating among paint colors:

a) Golden Cricket
b) Sea Fantasy
c) Rustic Pottery
d) Cajun Shrimp

About to go with (d) because it’s food.

Happy Father’s Day, Barnacle Bill.

Today I signed the lease on a studio apartment in the West Village for July 1. I am PUMPED. Granted, the apartment has roughly the same square footage of all of the mice I have caught and killed in my current apartment (if you laid their glue traps side by side on the floor). Oh wait. That’s actually pretty big.

Here I am, larger than life in my new neighborhood:

The Wendy’s homestyle chicken strips are hit or miss. Tonight’s taste amazing, but maybe that’s because I paired them with a “spring mix” salad. With fries and a small Frosty they sort of lose their glamour.

Four days in Michigan and the only thing I take pictures of is the fruit market. Oh well. Here we go:

Joe Jackson’s “Famous” New Buffalo fruit stand.

Mmmmm. There are always bigger portions in the Midwest!

This is Paul, our new camera-friendly friend. He’s a manager. (2006 update: Paul now has his own fruit store down the road and it kicks Joe Jackson’s ass!)

WTF are these? You go, Joe.

Looking plump and jolly behind a large watermelon display. This is also the first visible documentation that I really am a student at NYU. I swear! I am!

Meggers is excited to be in the fruit market.

How sad. The CRV still has two volleyball stickers on it (one of which says “Just Spike It!”) as well as an LTHS West Field 1999 parking pass. It’s always good to be prepared.

I make a confused gesture to Meghan’s Italian peace (gay pride?) flag.

Homemade bruschetta (prounounced with a k)! Bill seems to be more impressed with the vino.

Two words. Obsessed.

1. I miss driving. Mr. Charcoal Gray Jeep wept as I plunked my ass down into its billowing, leathery cushions. Love you, Jeep. Love you like my vermin-infested luggage.
2. People who work in salons are completely nuts.
3. Orange-jalapeno gelati tastes so much better than it sounds.
4. Every time I see a speck of anything black (including pepper), I assume it is a mouse pellet.
5. The above is what my life has become.
6. There’s something so refreshing about using a HUGE desktop computer intstead of a laptop.
7. I drove down Wolf Road today after getting off the expressway, and thought, “Oh my god. This is so beautiful.”
8. The above was in reference to WOLF ROAD. It’s not beautiful. It’s just not dirty, smelly, cluttered and gray like my usual surroundings.
9. The Jesus Doll greeted me in my bedroom. Thanks, Sweeneys. I hate you.
10. Jesus doesn’t hate. Jesus LOVES.
11. Annie hates.

I’ll be rappin’ at ya again from another Great Lakes state tomorrow. Now post a comment about my unexpected, inappropriate use of the terms “rappin’” and “ya”.

  I’m pretty sure you know you’re cool when some guy from Japan makes the effort to translate your website. That is AWESOME.

Yes, everyone who keeps asking, my hair is darker at the moment. It should look all freshly/artificially/expensively sun-kissed again after my jaunt to the Midwest next weekend.

I had to watch “The One That Got Away” on NBC tonight. Six fake-blonde bimbos and one token Asian woman (who actually won!) fighting for some dipshit, muscular North Carolina “professional bartender.” Shoot me.

I just used “dipshit” as an adjective. You saw it here first!

My spirits lifted, though, when I decided to take a midnight stroll through the rain and go school supply shopping at Walgreen’s for no reason. This is a great thing to do when you have very little personal income and/or motivation. Check out this amazing shit I got:

Four glittery hologram pencils and a JUNK FOOD Lisa Frank folder! I feel like I’m in fifth grade again. I can’t believe they’re still selling stuff that looks like this. What are they thinking? What were they ever thinking? I love it!

I’ve always been obsessed with school supplies. I loved organizing my desk and then opening it at inopportune times to admire my perfectly aligned, color-coordinated materials. I always thought mine were the best in the class. I actually remember my fourth grade teacher having to repeat “Annie, desk down!” over and over. In fifth grade, Kara and I carried around these plastic boxes full of purple and turquoise “Wavelength” pens, mechanical pencils, white-out, and chapstick. We decorated them with stickers and personal messages which could be whited-out at any time. We used to say “I keep my things in a box” in a weird, old-person’s voice which, looking back, was really strange. Those boxes were great, though. We definitely started the trend. The nerdier girls started getting them too, at which point we got pissed. We should have been flattered.

During high school I was all about the solid color notebooks, because Lisa Frank was childish and I was “cool.” I still looked at the neon folders longingly in Office Max, but knew I couldn’t pull it off. I probably begged my sister to get them just so I could look at them at home. But now, I’ve decided that crap like this is suddenly acceptable again (and can’t believe I ever censored my free will). I literally stood there grinning for like 30 seconds after I saw this folder. I just couldn’t believe it.

One of the pencils says “WHATEVER!” in block letters, and there is a can of “POP” on the folder. Both of these features perfectly reflect my personal lifestyle. Finally, I am motivated.

I just read that over and realized that when I see the name “Lisa Frank,” for some reason I imagine Lisa from Six Feet Under sitting there designing these folders and notebooks. Which would never happen, because she’s vegan. And now deceased. But still. I cannot wait for the new season to begin. I just finished the last episode on On Demand last night. That means I’ve now seen each of the episodes four times. Oh, and if anyone wants to get up to speed, I’m willing to watch them all again.