I got a new iMac at work! It’s ENORMOUS. Oh my god. The screen takes up my entire peripheral vision. Dude, ALL I SEE is screen. I want to live in it. Roll around in it. Frolic. I also want to eat it. I was working on some BULLSHIT screen before. And at home I have a stupid 15 inch laptop (which after dropping it, only works if it’s plugged in so now it’s a 15 inch desktop). So I have this SWEET iMac with this IMAX screen that makes me so happy to do work, which seems wrong. But here are things that I’ve learned:

1. You can run two programs at once. Maybe even three! Oh my god! Four! I’m running four programs at once! Dude! I can browse the tubez AND edit some copy. This may seem so simple, but my last computer gave me a big finger whenever I wanted to do two things at once. It wasn’t just giving the finger too, it’d be super obnoxious about it, hey Annie I have a gift for you, and it reaches in it’s pocket and busts out with a middle finger. Then it laughs, shakes a beer and opens it in my face, and goes to a frat party to bag some hot chix. Well guess what, old computer? Suck it.

2. I can have two Word documents open side by side. SIDE BY SIDE, people. They both FIT on this SCREEN. Do you understand this? WTF is wrong with you? Why aren’t you happier for me? SIDE BY SIDE. I have MULTIPLE windows open. Mind explosion!

3. It takes less than a minute to start up. My last computer? Over ten minutes. I’d come in, turn it on, and then go make myself coffee and you know, make instant oatmeal, talk to co-workers, and then come back to my desk and STILL wait for my shit to boot. It was offensive. Sometimes I could eat my entire oatmeal before I even saw my desktop. It’s important to note that I eat oatmeal very slowly. It’s like eating drywall paste. With raisins.

4. This thing makes me want to do it with Steve Jobs all night long except he’s really not my type but I’d do it anyway because sometimes you have to take one for the team and be a soldier about it.

5. I am very much enjoying kale. I have been eating a lot of kale. I really enjoy kale. This has nothing to do with my iMac, but something I feel like you should know and understand. Kale.

6. I want to deliver a savage beatdown on my old computer like that scene in Office Space, but I can’t even stand to look at it. It’s doing a timeout in the corner.

7. I used to have a labelmaker when I was little. Those plastic labels that get punched with white letters. You know what I’m talking about. Anyway I was TOTALLY INTO IT. Labeled everything. EVERYTHING. My mom made me take off labels from my dresser drawers. (“Just look inside instead of label.”) Anyway I was a big fan. I was very organized. I went to my friend’s office last night and there was a labelmaker and I labeled everything in their office with “suck.”

8. That is all! New computer dudes! I’m so stoked!

The answer to the quiz was Mike Score, from Flock of Seagulls! Miss P was the quickest and she received her prize already. She is the winner. Who is the loser? Well, that would be me when I googled Flock of Seagulls and then got his picture. Ugh. I had “I Ran” stuck in my head, felt the need to see the video, and then I lost at life. The Internet is a blessing and a curse, remember that kids. The “I Ran” video led me down a horrible YouTube spiral that ended with “Heat of the Moment” by Asia. Dude. ASIA. I’m not proud of this. I’m not. I’m ashamed. Filled with shame. ASIA. A supergroup of pure crap. A bunch of guys got together, and they said, man we are so crappy apart, but together we can come together like Voltron and be supergroup of crap! And then they high-fived and did it. Awful. When I grow up I want to be a bouncer. Like not for clubs, but for life. Then I can say SORRY ASIA NOT TONIGHT, THIS CLUB IS FOR WINNERS ONLY. And then billyclub them to the ears. I’d be very good. Fair but strict. Honestly though, my club would be empty. It’d be like Clint Eastwood and giant pandas and a salad spinner inside.

Anyway, back to Mike Score, I do not understand when people lose their hair and they decide to “grow it out.” You should leave the “growing it out” to people who actually have it. Think of it as a beauty tip. Anyway thanks to all who played. He does actually look like Kelsey Grammer.

As for the SuperBowl, go stillers, etc. My friend Doug Jones was on the Pedigree commercial!!! as the friend of the dude throwing the frisbee to the water buffalo. That was a funny sentence out of context. Anyway I had no idea he was on it and then he just pops up and I am like HFS! DOUG! You can watch the ‘behind the scenes’ clip for the commercial here. Go Doug! It’s always a pleasure to turn on the TV and see someone you know. Not that I have a TV but you know what I mean. It’s nice to turn on someone else’s TV and see someone I know. Most of the time I turn on the TV (at someone’s house) and I see people who I really don’t want to know. Like David Caruso and everyone on MTV.

Also, I do believe I baby sat for Max Weinberg’s kid. Pre-Conan days. You know, not to show off or anything. Ha ha ha. No really. I AM NOT SHOWING OFF. He was a good kid actually.

Lately I have been clucking at Karina when she is in her office. I enjoy this very much. I have no idea where this came from, but when I pass by her office, I go bok-BOOOOKK and then I scram. Sometimes she looks up. What? Is that a chicken I hear? But now I think she is used to this clucking. I will have to find another sound. Or maybe I will do it in French or Spanish. I actually do not know how a chicken sounds in French or Spanish, but I imagine it’s like this “le cluckeaux! le cluckeaux!” or “la clucka! la clucka!” If I were fancy, I would use the upside down exclamation mark for the Spanish one, but guess what? I don’t know how to do that. I am just not fancy. I will learn how to live with this. Anyway I am very good at clucking. Sometimes Karina looks under her desk. Maybe there are some farm fresh eggs?

Speaking of which, have you ever seen an egg that is literally fresh from the chute? It’s kind of gross. Like there’s this ‘film’ on it and it’s warm. Like body temperature warm. It’s nasty dude, just nasty. I was wondering how often chickens lay eggs and researched on the interwebbingz and learned that it’s about once every 24 hours, but that to get the eggs fertilized, the hen can store semen in her oviducts for a MONTH. That’s like a Manhattan Mini-Storage up in that hoochie. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I just had a egg moment where I wanted to vomit.

My tissues smell like bacon, for no real reason. I just got Planet Earth via Netflix. I think it has a sad ending.

I think that covers it.

Happy (lunar) new year, everyone! It’s the Year of the Ox! It’ll be a year of ups and downs and hard work, but also a lot of fun. You will enjoy being with friends, but also being alone. You will have moments this year when things go your way, and moments when things don’t. You’ll be busy, and then you won’t be busy. Then you’ll be busy again. You’ll buy socks. You will eat something you regret. It may or may not be partly cloudy at some point this year. You’ll meet new people. You may not like them. At all. You’ll learn how to say “bellybutton” in another language. You’ll get good news. And bad news. You’ll struggle with technology. You’ll get a phone call. Iceland’s government will collapse. You’ll sneeze (gesundheit). You may come into money. You may lose this money. You will spill something. Someone will give you a hug.

This is going to be a very good year, like all the other good years. But it’ll also be a very bad year, like all the other bad years. Yes, this is the Year of the Ox.

Also, my sign is the dragon. I would make “an ideal king.” I find this very exciting.

Also: “ombligo.”

I’m here blogging live from Beth Israel Hospital where my friend is getting a lumpectomy. That is when they feel your boobies and say hey there’s something not right about your boobies. They are a nice size and shape and whatnot but there’s something a little strange. Oh look at this! It is a “mass” but let’s call it a lump because it’s cuter and not as scary. (Why not call it Henry or James or even Henry James since he was a big fan of boobies? I don’t know.) So now they are removing Henry James which is good because quite frankly, he was a real prick. There I said it. We got here at the ass crack of dawn, at the hour when the only people on the train are constructuon workers going to work to build homes and homeless people who will not be living in said homes.

Anyway now she is inside going sleepy time and I am in this waiting room with three other people who are also sleepy time. One has his mouth gaping open. I’m trying to resist throwing pennies into it like a fountain.

An aside: Au Bon Pain has really shitty coffee. It’s like light brown tepid water which might come out of my faucet.

Anyway the point is this: if you are a girl and have boobies, as girls most likely do, check your boobies for Henry James. The guy is a dickface. The kind of bro who will show up to your place uninvited and eat all your cereal. Do you like cereal? Yes? Ok then check your boobies. Done and done.

Hello friends!

Happy belated New Year! As usual, I am late. But I’m OK with that. You might not be OK with that. And I’m OK with that, too. I’m OK with a lot of things, really.

I am back in New York now. I flew out last night at 9 pm and landed this morning at 5 am. OMG death. Then I decided to be “bad” and splurge for a cab ($53 after tip OUCH) despite my New Year’s resolution to SAVE THE CASH MONIES. So already 2009 is full of broken promises and shattered dreams (shattered dreams, feel like I can run away, run away). But there were no yellow cabs at that Ricky Retardo hour, so as I was going outside there were all these gypsy cab hawks asking if I wanted a cab and one of them actually grabbed my luggage from my hands “I will take you! I will take you!” and I was like “Don’t you dare grab my bag, it’s not polite” and shooed him. And suddenly I became like the biggest Courtesy Cop ever. But dude, don’t grab people’s shit! I mean, come on.

I spent New Year’s eve with friends from New York actually. Marco and Lizzie were visiting and staying at The Standard downtown, which they should just rename The Doucheturd. SO MUCH DOUCHE. Normally it’s kind of douchey but on New Year’s eve it becomes Douche Central. Marco pointed out it’s like we were hanging out in the Meatpacking District, something you couldn’t pay me to do. Really, if you said, hey Annie I will give you $53 to hang out in the Meatpacking District tonight, I’d say no. Then I’d stick a shiv in your gut and steal your $53. And let’s be honest, $53 would buy you like 2 drinks. Anyway we were not slutty enough or twenty-one enough to be hanging out there. There was a girl wearing something that only had one side. Like just the front. It was like she was wearing a napkin around her neck, it was grotesque and seeming impossible. I was wearing jeans and I felt like I was wearing too much pants. Too much pants! Oh yes, such a thing is possible!

We ate in Koreatown for “King’s court” style dinner, which is an awesome way of saying food just keeps coming at you until you want to die (of happiness, of overeating, of flavor, of soju that tastes like “kissing your grandmother” as Dan put it) and the went to HMS Bounty for drinks. I love that bar for no particular reason other than it’s old skool, charming L.A. Good times, people, good times.

So normally on New Year’s day I spend it with my entire extended family and we bow for bucks and play New Year’s games. But now we don’t get bucks, which makes hanging out with family much less profitable. I’ve written about this before, in the book, the one over there in the sidebar. I normally show up to my aunt’s incredibly hungover and wanting to die. So I kind of prepped myself for a day of answering why I wasn’t married/with child/a millionaire/a doctor and then my mom said, hey, sorry to do this to you, but I think we’re canceling the new year’s stuff. Your father’s kind of sick and your aunt is too tired to cook for 3000 cousins. And suddenly it was like a major GET OUT OF JAIL FREE AND HERE IS A NEW FRYING PAN AND A SALAD SPINNER. Stoke city! I went back to sleep.

Micah and I were at some vegan restaurant (YES VEGAN. AND DELICIOUS.) and we were sitting next to two dudes on a man-date/broppointment and one guy was all stoked for the waffle special and I was like oh they stop serving breakfast at 11 am. The time is 3! And when he overheard this it looked like I had kicked his dog in the nuts. Like how dare you ruin this moment. Don’t you hate that? Breakfast should be served all day all the time. Like, wtf. It’s even easier to make than dinner, what’s wrong with people?

I already miss my L.A. friends. Didn’t even get to see everyone. I hate when that happens. Also if you managed to reach the end of this post you deserve a cookie. Mail me your address, I will send you a cookie. No joke. Do it.

Happy 09!

Also, I decided that in 2013 I will start high fiving again. I stopped in 2003 and Micah and I decided that a decade without high fiving sounded about right. So there you go.

So today my coworker put a copy of the latest Guns n’ Roses record on my desk, Chinese Democracy (that’s the record’s name, not my desk’s name, though technically my desk has a name since it’s from IKEA). Anyway, yes. Guns n’ Roses. A record that is, uh, fifteen years in the making? Maybe more? Who knows. It is the most expensive record ever made. Each CD is covered by diamonds and orphans and delivered to you by a unicorn. Fact.

Anyway, it’s Guns n’ Roses. I think to myself, look, here is this CD. It is free. It is Axl Rose. He was part of growing up. The bandanas! The ripped jeans! The catcher’s outfit! The booze! The whores in the videos! I mean it’s Axl Rose! You know where you are? You’re in the jungle baby, and you’re gonna die! BUT, it’s Axl without Slash, which is like an Oreo without the creme filling, and instead of the creme filling it is some kind of fruit jam. In this simile, the fruit jam is Buckethead. A dude who wears a bucket on his head and somehow manages to shred on the guitar. Whatever. Listen, the CD was on my desk. I thought to myself, OK. Let’s do this, Annie. It’s free. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If you don’t like it, you can just take it around the back and shoot it.

I pop it in. I wait. I listen. I think, this might suck, but THERE IS A CHANCE IT MIGHT BLOW MY MIND. I have not read any reviews, I have not heard anything about it. It’s just me and Axl Rose and the dude with the bucket.

And then the music comes.

And it sucks.

Oh my GOD it sucks.

How can something be so full of suck? I don’t know. I mean it took over ten years, there’s no way this record was going to live up to anyone’s expectations, but it actually was like, wow. Surprisingly, shockingly full of suck. It was as if Kid Rock had a baby and it’s name was Guns n’ Roses. Yes, that bad. I wanted to stab pencils into my ears but realized I had no pencils because we make Internets for a living and pencils are not needed in our line of work. But guess what? I muscled through the whole thing. Because I wanted to experience it. I thought there might be this nugget of solid rock. No. No nuggets. Not even a chicken nugget.

Anyway my coworker actually thought it was ok. He said it was “not as good as Die Hard 4 but better than Rocky 6.”

First of all, everything is better than Rocky 6. Nights in Rodanthe is probably better than Rocky 6. Die Hard 4? I didn’t see it but I thought Die Hard 3 was really bad (that’s the one where Sam Jackson sheds a single tear every so often), so if 4 was anything like 3 then my coworker is trying to say that this record sucked. Which it does.

But I think it’s more like the Waterworld of records. I think Cleopatra is the most expensive movie ever made after you take inflation into consideration, but saying that this record is the Cleopatra of records actually makes it sound good.

Anyway I am sad, but not surprised. But I’ve listened to it so you don’t have to. It’s like I’m doing you a favor. Stopping you from going home with the wrong guy/girl. Like yeah you might think it might be fun, but you’re gonna wake up feeling sad with a burning sensation when you pee. Just saying.

I am officially on staycation! It is the second best kind of vacation. Vacation is obviously the best kind vacation, but a staycation is not that bad. I am here, blogging live from my apartment in New York City. I have already vacuumed and mopped. I have cleaned the bathroom. I have washed the dishes. I had a Very Satisfying Cleaning Experience where I took the hose attachment out and vacuumed the wall moldings. Oh yes. That is what I did. It was maximum satisfaction, just like a Snickers bar or whatever. Seriously, I had a little vacuum woody I was so excited. Then I vacuumed behind the heater. It was like a graveyard of dust bunnies. I could’ve made a sweater out of that shit. I was scared of it and yet highly satisfied at the same time. Hmm what now? I am downloading music. I am purchased clothing from online stores. I am drinking coffee. I am looking for a new apartment on Craiglist like I do every week and like every week, I am not finding anything.

It is a truly glorious day already.

Except for the fact that I have a CAVITY!!!!!!!

OMFG. My tooth is screaming at me. It is calling me horrible things. It is calling my mother horrible things. Every time I drink something hot or cold or basically drink anything wet it gives me the big finger and then clocks me in the jaw. I want to drill that shit out myself but instead I am going to the dentist tomorrow. My dentist’s office pumps in Cher and Britney and George Michael remixes and my (gay) dentist totally sings along as he drills the crap out of my mouth. It is painful on many different levels, but fun in a strange way. If you guys need a dentist, my dentist is the jam. Cher comes free with the cleaning. You also get a toothbrush. Come for the toothbrush, stay for the Cher, that is what my mom always says.

Mike lives in Hawaii. Hawaii is a magical place. Yesterday, we had a meeting. Mike was “there.” I say “there” because he was actually “there,” but in a very virtual fashion. He was trapped inside of a laptop. His head took up the whole screen. When you see Mike in real life, his head is very large. It’s larger than a laptop screen, in fact. But somehow through a complex combination of magic and technology, Mike managed to fit his head inside of the computer. Throughout the meeting I kept on hearing tropical birds in the background. They were taunting me. Oh yeah, chirp chirp, we come in colors other than brown and gray. Chirp chirp. DO YOU WANT A PINEAPPLE? OH YEAH? WELL TOO BAD YOU CITY PRICK. Seriously though, the birds were very loud. Some suit at the meeting asked where Mike was and he said, “out of state.” Someone in the room said “out of the country,” to which I laughed but then remembered that sometimes people forget that Hawaii is a state. It really shouldn’t “belong” to the U.S. it’s disorienting. All I can say is if I lived in Hawaii I’d be telling everyone and their mom. OH YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK? THAT MUST BE NICE BECAUSE I LIVE IN HAWAII. I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU THE WATERFALLS ARE JUST TOO LOUD. YOU KNOW WHAT’S A DRAG? I AM ALLERGIC TO COCONUTS. THERE ARE COCONUTS EVERYWHERE. LIFE IS HARD HERE IN HAWAII.

So then I was thinking that in Hawaii, everything comes with an umbrella. I drew a picture for Mike. I am going to share this picture with you. Keep in mind that I write for a living. If I could draw, I would draw for a living. There is a reason why I do not draw for a living.

Awesome! Historical! Riveting!

Ok now, note to President Obama: FIX IT!!!!