So apparently, Obama and MIchelle like to 'fist' together.

Look it up on YouTube.

I've been messing around with my iWork and iLife programs lately, and I'm starting to get the hang of them. I've begun to mess around with my photos, enhancing and creating slideshows and whatnot, I updated/printed my personal contact/business cards, finished my parents' carryout menus, and my next feat will be to design the website for the Restaurant. I love my sporadic bouts of nerdy goodness.

I just took a really awesome evaluation of my geekiness tendencies that let me know of the obvious stated above. (And yes, the 'r' is purposely not included in the hyperlink...because I forgot it)

In other news, a currently forming feminist zine is looking for submissions, so I am currently working on a short piece of fiction as well as a review or two to submit by the end of March. Yay! A project to keep me focused!

May I also include that I hate taxes? I did my Federal, but I hate State. It's a bunch of fucking bullshit, all the information needed. And it is SO not cut and dry. Unless you work for the IRS. Excuse the colorful language, but I know all of my fellow taxpayers are probably saying the same thing as they fill out the forms. 

Crazy sidebar (as if there aren't enough in this post already):

I had a dream that I had a kitten in my dorm in Chicago, and in order to hide it from the RA, I put it in the closet by coaxing it in with a glass of honey. Really weird. I was afraid it would scratch on the door, so i figured I could keep it busy with honey. 

Upon waking up, I realized this was terribly cruel.

Also upon waking up, I realized I did not, in fact, have a cat, nor was I living in Chicago in a dorm. 

Why is it that all of my kitty dreams are vivid enough for me to think I still have them when I wake up? It sucks.

I want a kitty with great sharpshooting skills to keep the crazy naked men away.

~Pusher. Of. Pens.~