Because CBS does, in fact, own my soul.

In the Thanksgiving episode of How I Met Your Mother last year, Marshall asks an upset Lily if she wants to say anything before their meal, and she responds. “Nope. This sucks; eat up and and leave.”

That pretty much sums up how I’m feeling about 2008.

You did suck, almost completely unequivocally (I did get a couple of rather cool DVD sets, but, um…no.), and I would like you to leave. Now, please. (No, really, now. It’s 9:58 and I am tired.) 2009 isn’t looking much better, I’ve got to say, but here’s hoping.

I did manage to write every day but one, and since it was a leap year, I’m totally counting it. Okay. A lot of those posts were funny cat pictures or Colbert Report clips. They totally counted, and so help me God, you do not want to argue with me.

I will talk to you tomorrow. When I will have a lot of time on my hands, because apparently at 12:01 my Comedy Central and VH1 will be disappearing because Time Warner doesn’t think I can come up with an extra quarter a month.

As though Pushing Daisies wasn’t bad enough…

Time Warner pulls various networks, including COMEDY CENTRAL, from their lineup starting January 1.

As in, I WILL NEVER SEE ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE COLBERT REPORT ON TV AGAIN.

(Or until both sides calm the frick down and settle this.)

I AM NOT AMUSED.

I love Colbert. So. So much.

Bill Paxton is trying very hard to be a serious actor.

In what is presumably an effort to make major nautical disasters more interactive, my local museum now hands out a card to everyone who goes through the Titanic exhibit. This card contains details of a person (helpfully separated by sex), such as name, age, class, and a short backstory. You go through the exhibit, get suitably depressed by the strains of “Never an Absolution” (Oh yes, they use the movie music at the beginning. I’m guessing My Heart Will Go On was too expensive.), and then at the end you get to find your person on a list and discover whether you lived or died.

Good times for the whole family!

I was a 22-year-old woman in first class, so I immediately cast myself as Kate Winslet. I was on a two-year honeymoon that was concluding with this voyage, and then my presumably wealthier-than-God husband and I would go back to being wealthy and not talking to each other. Ah, the kind of marriage I aspire to.

And I lived! I mean, I kind of suspected that as a young woman in first class, because my husband Carlos or whatever his name was (it was long and Spanish- whatever) would have, no doubt, forced me into a lifeboat because he loved me so much that he could not rest until he knew I was safe and told me not to worry, he would be along soon- we’ll meet again by morning.

And…then he probably died of hypothermia in the North Atlantic.

But then I get to be a tragic widow who doesn’t actually have to have any human contact but no one looks down upon for being alone. Like Not-So-Poor Madeline Astor, the actual 18-year-old who got knocked up by John Jacob and then got out of the whole thing with a baby and no husband. And THE ASTOR MONEY. Gah. Hate.

Anyway, fantastic exhibit. And a very good IMAX, which involved Bill Paxton trying desperately to make us forget about the Spy Kids movies. Oh, it was a good time.

Perhaps my brazen exhibitionism is wearing thin?

I don’t think I have anything to talk about tonight. I could do my traditional year-end wrap up of my favorite movies, but a quick glance at my yearly collection of ticket stubs yields exactly ten tickets. Two of which were for the same movie (Mamma Mia- I must have misplaced the third, sing-along ticket), and another four of which are to movies that I really didn’t enjoy that much (well, there’s one that I threw away, because no way in hell am I admitting that I saw it). And frankly, there has been enough fangirl spewage about the Dark Knight all over the internet. So instead I’m just going to tell you to see Doubt- again. It’s not just about sex abuse- I swear! It’s about awesome wrapped in an atmospheric tale about the nature of certainty wrapped in more awesome topped with Amy Adams and her adorable little upturned nose.

Or I could do the most played songs on my iPod, but it’s a rather disturbing mix of Rihanna and Fleetwood Mac. And I have taken enough mocking at the hands of my little sister today.

Work was even boring today. I mean, I got to do a Manga endcap and a romance endcap (Why do the women in all these books want to have sex with vampires/devils/Scottish men/random scary guys? Why??? And Manga. Unless I’m reading Hebrew- which I can’t, so it’s unlikely, I want my books facing left to right, got it?) and then order books for an entire Obama table, during which I had to gag several times based on the sheer “Yes we can!” of it all. Ugh. But it wasn’t terribly interesting.

Oh well. Tomorrow I’m going to the Titanic exhibit- maybe something fun will happen there!

I put aside my deeply antisocial tendencies…

…and actually left the house tonight to see Doubt with Colleen and Eileen. And loved it so much that I would be totally okay with going back with Mary on Wednesday. I’m not going to spoil anything, but I officially heart Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman, and they both deserve Oscars for their roles. Especially the last scene in the office- riveting.

And funny. You wouldn’t think it would be funny, but it totally was.

The walking around, touch-feely homily part bugged me though. Not in 1964, stupid people. I wasn’t around and I know that. Gah.

It was, all things considered, a good Christmas.

I mean, yeah, it’s been five months and I almost started to cry going to Communion today when I saw that his pew was empty (not a new revelation- but still).

But I did get a NAME, a book about the 1981 Belfast hunger strikes, and some steak knives. Oh, and, you know, the Son of Man and possibility of eternal life. So, you know, it all evens out.

A very productive day of procrastination.

First, can I just say that Godspell is on TV right now? And I am still loving the acid-trip gospel story aspect of it all, but I am still rather uncomfortable with SpyDaddy being Jesus in technicolor pants and a Superman t-shirt.

Second, Cousin Amy on 17 18 Kids and Counting is my favorite person in the entire world. I want to be friends with Cousin Amy. “Fearfully and wonderfully made”? I almost died.

Third, Colleen just announced that her dream was to be a preacher’s wife like Victoria Osteen (now on Larry King). “It’s too bad priests can’t marry, because I would marry a priest and we’d get us a big church and I’d dress like that every day! Sittin’ in the front row, hands raised, smiling like I’m listening…I could write a book! Oh, I could write a book.” Mother would be so proud.

Okay. Christmas is in like two days, and we’re having people over. So today I polished the silver, cleaned all the glass in the house, washed the Waterford glasses (Waterford tends to freak me out, because I’m a klutz when I’m not drinking), and moved everything in the kitchen and scrubbed underneath it.

Sadly, all of this cleaning left very little time for the GRE practice test that I was supposed to do today. This was clearly inadvertent, and will undoubtedly be rectified…sometime in the next few weeks.

But hey. I may not ever be accepted to graduate school and therefore have no job, but I will have an unnatural amount of Waterford crystal.

Leave my cervix the hell alone, please.

So, TLC is doing the birth of the Duggar child (or, as Colleen, puts it, blurred-out Fundamentalist naughty bits). And, oh! So much wisdom. Apparently, having huge unnatural amounts of sex at the end of pregnancy leads to cervical softening. And a soft cervix makes it much easier to give birth than a (AND I AM NOT EVEN MAKING THIS UP THE WOMAN SAID EXACTLY THIS) cervix that hasn’t been “loved on.”

Um. Eww. Gross. I do not want to know about your creepy condoned-by-God sexual habits to make childbirth easier. And also, I’m pretty sure that your cervix softens naturally even if you do not find the idea of sex after nine months as a “sacred” vessel just, like, the best thing ever.

Also, Jim Bob thinks that it is the part of the husband to be supportive because that will totally make things easier (My mom: “Oh! It does not make it easier. Stupid.”), and he should encourage her to eat healthily and be in shape.

Oh. Oh. If anyone ever suggests to me that I should perhaps eat a more healthy diet or get in shape in order to be supportive? Yeah. He’ll never be getting near my cervix, softened or otherwise again. IT’S NOT YOURS ANYMORE, BASTARD.

At six a snow day is amazing.

At twenty-one, and the second one in three days? There are claw marks on the walls. I mean, God knows I love doing absolutely nothing. But when you actually had things like work and Starbucks to do and you are really quite sick of this actually having to change your life because of the freaking weather, it is simply unacceptable.

I dislike living in the country. Tomorrow, I will leave the house. If I have to take the freaking horse.

Meanwhile, did you know you can watch movies on Hulu.com? Because you totally can and I have now seen “In Her Shoes” for free. (Which is, frankly, the right price because that movie kind of sucks.) Next up- The Madness of King George. Porphyria ahoy!

Very Post-Vatican II

So apparently Fr. Newbie (who isn’t so new anymore, but whatever) is fond of the YouTube, as we now have a video Christmas card.

I am all in favor of this, and seriously squeed because frankly I think YouTube is about as awesome an invention as could have been made. I mean, really, there is nowhere else where you can find amazing videos of David Tennant in drag. Or some guy playing Tony Blair talking about Gerry Adams and Ian Paisley and then regenerating into David Tennant? I mean, really. This is quality stuff here, perfect for completely squandering your afternoons or maybe your 4.0. Lots of things.

ANYWAY, once I stalked David Tennant gave a cursory view to the actual video (children’s pictures, Luke’s gospel, blah blah- cute), I started clicking on the other videos because there is nothing I like more than watching self-important videos put together by parishes when they’re trying to get people to give money to them. Oh, I love them. When we did ours last year I almost fell out of the pew I was laughing so hard. Fantastic school…*chokes* “St. *Enter Name Here* has changed my life! I used to be a crack whore! But now I’m entering a convent and saying my final vows in six months! Give thousands- your children will thank you!” Well, since this parish was located in Whitefish Bay, notsomuch with the crack whore part, but still.

Except for one thing- the background music was “Have a Little Faith In Me”. Don’t get me wrong- love the song. Consistently one of the most played songs on my iPod. But I’m guessing no one on the staff has ever seen Benny and Joon, because yeah, I’m not sure that taking advantage of the borderline-mentally-disabled (even if you look like Johnny Depp) is really the image they want to conjure up. Just a thought.