chapter one: in which laina makes a brief stop at procrastination station

why, hello friends.

it's been a while since i wrote anything of substance, and i apologise for my absence. i have had plentiful experiences resulting in anecdotes worth sharing, just no time in which to recount them with a sufficient degree of snarkiness. i will pretend as though my time has been spent with the things i should be doing (namely, writing an essay on sex workers and another on community health workers) but in actuality most of my efforts have been focused on the following:

1) addressing the fact that one day i will meet john krasinski and woo him with an irresistible combination of wit, charm, and an ass that won't quit, even though swen seems to think he looks like baloo. (and shofferhoffer cannot be angry at me for stealing her man as she has placed dibs on gael. everyone's a winner here).
2) gloating over the fact that, despite the wodie's assertions, ian "the thorpedo" thorpe is a) not gay and b) required to shave off all his body hair in order to wear his high-tech bodysuit, thereby disproving her hypothesis that the suit was just a mechanism to prevent him from taking a razor to his chest. this is a particularly sweet victory for me since this debate has been going on since age 14? 15? probably around the time we found out about her schoolgirl crush on greg kinnear, but that is a story for another time.
3) spending too much time on iTunes purchasing music that i've been meaning to buy for ages.
4) starting to become involved with a grass roots health organisation. (actually, that was just last night, but i needed an excuse to throw some info out there).
5) being cranky with one of my favourite writers for descending into the pit of redundancy and predictability, but then regaining my faith in humanity when he revealed he still has some tricks up his sleeve.
6) eating an entire jar of nutella in 3 days.
7) inadvertently stumbling upon perhaps the greatest music video of all time.
8) losing my faith in humanity again after this feeble attempt to garner street cred. oh yeah, and this one, too. don't even get me started on laura. i think her lack of rhythm is indicative of her lack of one of these but, again, a subject for a later date.

and with that, i must get back to those pesky hookers. until next time...