Here are two psych-ish articles you can think about today, both from the NYT:
Can your dog feel regret? (My dog, Copper, certainly hangs his head and sneaks around a little bit when he does something wrong, like eating an entire cake. Maybe it’s no coincidence.)
Well, I guess they are kittens, not cats. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE. Anyway, I was shown this video over the weekend and I’ve been dying to post it. (Weekend away=no blogging). “Kittens inspired by kittens” is a masterpiece! Enjoy!
Sooooo my landlord said I couldn’t have a cat or dog…but he didn’t say anything about chameleons! HOW DOES IT DO THAT? (And here is where I answer my own question so that you don’t have to take the time to Google it yourself…click the link) I also would like to have multiple pairs of Ray-Bans.
Oh and guess what song is stuck in my head now?
Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon
You come and go
You come and go
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dream
Red, gold and green
Red, gold and green…
Did they seriously make “Where the Wild Things Are” into a movie? (Let me answer my own question: yes, they did.) Are you okay with this?! (I’m clearly struggling with it.) What are your thoughts? It seems kind of dark and twisty…
As I’ve mentioned a few hundred times on this blog, I’m from Denver. I’m pretty obsessed with my hometown and am quick to brag about it. Until recently, and besides Tom Tancredo, there wasn’t much about Denver that I was ashamed of.
Then last year, “Blue Mustang” made its way to the entrance to Denver International Airport. If you’ve ever flown into or out of DIA, you’ll remember this mustang, although you may only remember its “I-will-eat-your-soul” red-eyed death stare:
In that picture, it may just look ugly, but take my word for it: those eyes are downright terrifying when it’s pitch black outside and you’re on your way to a 5 a.m. flight.
As if the basic aesthetics of the mustang weren’t bad enough, there’s a horror story behind the making of it. The artist DIED when the mustang’s TORSO fackin’ FELL ON HIM:
Haters of this work say that “Blue Mustang,” as it is formally known, by the artist Luis Jiménez (killed in 2006 when a section of the 9,000-pound fiberglass statue fell on him during construction), is frightening, or cursed by its role in Mr. Jiménez’s death, or both. [NYTimes]
That mustang is a murderer! It’s even spawned a Facebook group supporting its removal. I mean sure, you could argue that the sculpture gets people talking, and that it’s bold. But in a city that’s not exactly, er, known for its art, do we really want this to be what people associate with Denver? (Not to mention one of the first or last things they see in the city.) I’d much rather my beloved Mile High City be known for one of its less creepy — but equally wacky and conversation-starting — sculptures. Here’s “Dancers,” which sits outside our Performing Arts Complex:
And my personal favorite, titled “I See What You Mean,” which is outside the Convention Center:
If you’re in D.C. on this lovely Monday, happy snow day! At the very least, the federal government and my school got a snow delay, and I’ll take it. I woke up this morning around 7 a.m., looked outside, let out a “yippee!,” checked my email, and promptly fell back asleep. I’m impressed, actually…this is a legitimate snow storm. Normally when people are freaking out about snow here in the mid-Atlantic region, I get up on my high Colorado horse and am like “Pssh, you call this sprinkling a snowstorm? In Colorado we put on our swimsuits and call this summer!” (Which, of course, is a huge lie. Colorado is not the frigid tundra that some people think it is.)
Anyway, my morning classes and appointments are cancelled, so hooray! I’m quite happy to snuggle up in my apartment and watch entertaining YouTube videos like this one:
I’m back. I’ve come back from an unsuccessful foray into the real world (read: no place to live or a job…but I might have found a place to live. But still no job. That should be interesting. That’s another post.) and I’m back to the la la land of blogging where I can do what I love and pretend I’m getting paid! (Barack, could we speed up that fixing the economy business? I know it’s not going to happen overnight…but I need it to get better so people want to hire me.)
So. Much. To. Talk. About. So we have a new president. AWESOME. (If you don’t want to read one more freaking word about inauguration then just skip to the next paragraph.) Yours truly was there in the throws of things. I got to spend some quality time with Jessica Alba and her husband, Cash Warren. Cash, by the way, was much nicer than she was and not nearly as much of a jerk as Perez Hilton makes him out to be. If I had taken a picture with Jessica, I would have posted it, but I was trying to keep my cool and pretend like I didn’t care that she was a celebrity. Maybe it worked but it was a HUGE mistake on my part, because now I have no actual evidence. Whatev. Barack’s speech was perfect. It was HOPEy, CHANGEy, alluded to our new style of diplomacy, and presented a strong national image and showed he was not going to mess around. RAWR. I made it to a couple balls, but never got to see B and Meesh dance. Wahhh. We arrived just as Biden did, so they wouldn’t let us in. They were going to let us in between Joe and Barack, but guess what. They didn’t. I stood in the cold for forty minutes waiting. You know what made it better though? Walking in and James Taylor was playing. Niiiiiiiiiice. Okay, that’s all I’m going to say about the great inaug. Nope it’s not. I would wear everything Michelle Obama wears. Foxy. Hell, I’d wear Sasha and Malia’s clothes too. Too cute. ENOUGH! ENOUGH.
Barack is going to sign the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act today. It will now be law that women deserve the same pay as men. I cannot believe it took this long. If you want to read the stories that prove we need this legislation, read this NYT op-ed. Hooray!
In other great news, PETA is still batty. I meant to blog about them wanting to change the word “fish” to “sea kittens” but I didn’t. So get over it. Hopefully, you know about that anyway. If you don’t, here’s the deal. Fish have feelings, etc. So when you eat fish, they want you to feel bad about it. Like REALLY REALLY bad. They think the best way to do this is to change the name of fish to sea kittens. I am not making that up. But that’s not even what I am talking about. PETA has a vegetable sex ad that got denied for a Superbowl slot. Vegetable sex. Yeah, I said it and yeah, I know you pervs want to watch it:
Wowie. Thank you, PETA, for grossing me out AND making me feel bad about myself at the same time. And I’d like to see their sources for their information. How do they KNOW that vegetarians have better sex?
Okay, I’m off to stalk le internets and find more goodness for you to enjoy while you work. And I do not work. Really, this is community service. Right, Mom and Dad?
So I found this video on CUTE THINGS FALLING ASLEEP, the blog that makes me feel better even after openly weeping over my GRE math practice test. (Oh yeah, the real one is going to be a blast.) This cat is definitely falling asleep, but it only got a cuteness rating of 1 on the 1-5 scale. Well. It’s because it’s hairless! ( Yeah yeah yeah, like Mr. Bigglesworth.) Discrimination! Bigots! Hairists!
Okay, it’s a pretty heinous cat. And I don’t recommend watching the entire three minutes of it falling asleep. Seriously, cat people are so weird. Why would they think the internet wants to watch a cat fall asleep for three minutes?! Thirty seconds would do just fine.