you can still be happy about shrill, annoying things!

my new year's resolution is: NO DRAMA.

there's no room in my life for it. in other words, simplicity, serenity, finding happiness in everything, b/c there's no time for sadness any more. i'm 22 now, goddammit!, and i will not stand for any more of my time being spent on lamentation or regret.

i can't wait for 2007 to be over. it's been a year of drama, for sure, and there have been too many trifles and worries that distract me from what's real (this is real. not this.)

i intend to fill my next year with as much positive thinking and fun as possible, even endeavoring to make the most unpleasant of experiences into an opportunity for learning and self-discovery. i am, of course, speaking of senior project, a Frankenstein beast of a project that has gotten away from me, multiplying grievances like a water-logged gremlin.

despite the dedication of my primary oppressor to making the thesis-writing process absolute hell, i am committing myself to writing a clever thesis, and by god, i am going to finish it and graduate, with my dignity and integrity intact, thank you very much.

and what's more, there will be dancing! and hell, even some flesh-hungry hamsters if it comes to it!

video found at the Positive Energy Vibe Zone.

i'm pumped full of good vibes, and i intend to keep them!

to 2008! - a much better time than now.
-stephanie

"i shall name one Marvin, and i will train him to go directly for the testicles!"

that piece of carrot is really the remainder of a disembodied finger...
but where's the body? HE ATE IT.

wtf? you ask. intrigued? that is a quote from a conversation with my dear friend Brandon (read on...)

you see, senior project does some horrible things to people. mostly, there's a feeling of disempowerment, overwhelming depression, occasional health problems and feelings of self-unworth. there are also, in extreme cases, feelings of surprising hatred and violence. as Brandon put it, senior project "makes me want to commit heinous acts!" (you're not alone, B. you're not alone...)

the salve for such tough times? flesh-hungry hamsters. that's right. rodents with the insatiable taste for mammal blood.

Brandon: [sr proj] makes me want to commit heinous acts. and that is all i have to say about that!

me: INDEED

11:59 AM did u finally turn in sr proj?

Brandon: yeah, and bill apparently wrote back within three hours. i made the stupid mistake of just opening it and reading what he had to say

me: oh no

Brandon: which was basically 'get rid of your first 25 pages and then we'll talk'

me: how is it he read the whole thing in 3 hours?

WTF?

12:00 PM

what's wrong with yr first 25 pages??

he can't just say that, wtf

Brandon: sooooo i dont even know

im going to try not to dwell on it though. i was quite pleased with my paper, actually. something i wasnt expecting

12:01 PM me: well that's good, as long as you like it

did he send back comments?

Brandon: yeah

i could actually hear him yelling them as he was typing them. they weren't just little fixes and whatever. they were things that you could easily tell were being yelled in all their glory

12:02 PM me: oh geez, that's how his comments to my first 30 were...

yep, he's a yeller...

12:03 PM he should be put down ... like Old Yeller

take him out back to the shed...

12:04 PM Brandon: there is one part where he actually sounds kind of dumb though...in my intro at the end when im talking about what's going to be in each chapter, i didn't really go into detail on the chapters i hadn't started yet, i just wrote sentences that were place holders like "in this chapter i'm going to talk about blah blah and blah' and he wrote this really nasty comment about how paragraphs can't be one sentence long as if i didnt already know that

we should feed him to a bear

12:06 PM me: i hate those stupid comments he makes

like, he really thinks we're children

12:07 PM that we haven't learned that paragraphs aren't one sentence long, or that we don't know how to use spell check (something he actually accused me of)

i mean, we're college students, give us a LITTLE credit

12:08 PM he inspires violent urges in me

12:09 PM Brandon: seriously. one of my favorites is there is something grammatically that i was doing wrong, and it happened like 3 or 4 times in my paper. the first time he just pointed it out and im like okay, i'll fix that but then for the other times it happens he gets like more and more violent with his responses, as if i heard him while he made his first comment and was too stupid to do anything about them at the time

me: HA

yeah, definitely seen that before

12:10 PM

i want to unleash flesh-hungry hamsters on him

12:11 PM Brandon: flesh hungry hamsters would be QUITE delightful!

me: maybe i'll do that instead of writing my paper then... it seems a more worthy use of time

12:12 PM

if i got some hamsters now, and gave them a taste for mammal blood, they'd be raring to go by the time school started again

Brandon: this is a good point you make

12:15 PM me:

12:16 PM i'll spend some time making harnesses for them too, so i can unleash them en masse

swarming, like a flesh-hungry twitching rodent blanket

doesn't that sound delightful??

Brandon: yes. a living blanket of flesh eating fuzz

12:17 PM with eyes only for Bill

me: wow, suddenly i'm much more excited about the school year beginning again

12:18 PM Brandon: ahhh!! and then bill has the audacity to end his email with 'good luck' ooooooh go fuck yourself bill

[15 minutes later...]

me: alas, back to the project...

enjoy boston

glad to see u made it safely

Brandon: thank you! and good luck with all the shit

me: it was a pleasure dreaming of flesh-hungry hamsters with you!

Brandon: inDEED!

i look forward to the day

me: mmhmm

12:26 PM i shall name one marvin, and i will train him to go directly for the testicles!

Brandon: yes please!!

me: oh, poor marvin...

Brandon: it's a worthy sacrifice

me: indeed

12:27 PM tho it may be too late, as i believe the seed of his loins has already been sewn

Brandon: really?

me: how, you ask? MAGIC

Brandon: thats not something i want to be picturing

me: i don't believe it's human, it can't be

it's at least half EVIL

Brandon: probbaly at least 3/4 evil

12:28 PM because bill just has that much to give

what's a girl to do?

thank you, dear readers who sent me kind and lovely birthday wishes. i was the happiest reluctant 22 year old on the planet! i really don't know how i came to deserve such wonderful ppl in my life. thank you.

it was a pleasant Xmas and birthday. i've been enjoying the time at home with my family, and they're a delightful lot. i don't recall laughing this hard or this frequently since i first discovered Arrested Development, of which there's been some time to revisit as well.

i've also been making some slight progress on my thesis, but at the cost of utter isolation and perhaps some bad personal health choices (no breakfast until i have one solid paragraph written, reduced appetite, poor posture due to my unconventional work habits, failing eyesight due to staring at a screen for 80-90% of the day, messing up my body temperature b/c i've moved a space heater into my room b/c i decided i like the sound of its whirring right next to my head, not using my vocal chords in a long time, not thinking about much else besides democracy and education and thus not being able to have normal conversations with other human beings... the list goes on but i'll spare you.)

the current progress report: a decent introductory page and half, which must now transition into a convincing discussion of democratic theory, why schools must carry the democratic promise, and basically outline the remainder of the thesis, setting the tone and approach. oy! it's gonna be a long haul to Jan 1, when my first 30 pages are due...

anyway, i don't mean to bore you with all that. my real reason for posting today is to share this terrifically spooky video, of one of my recent musical findings, Bat for Lashes:



i'm in love with the animal masks on bikes. delightful! some of my favorite bands, i'm realizing now, have animals in the name: Animal Collective (and Panda Bear), Wolf Parade, Band of Horses, Cat Power, Grizzly Bear, Caribou, Andrew Bird... or, at the very least, employ an animal energy and imagery.

fangs and claws,
stephanie

birthday foto

this is me, 22 years old.

and still smiling, somehow.

-stephanie

are birthdays happy?

so, tomorrow, the 26th day of December, as is custom for this time of year, i will have my 22nd birthday.

yes, woo-hoo and all that...

but i am remorseful this year, more than any other year before (yes, even compared to yester-year) because this birthday, more than any other, signifies the end of my youth. i've dragged it on long enough, and i find that this year officially closes the door on that splendid carefree stage of youth, and launches me on the track toward adulthood, endless responsibility and trudgery.

looking back, i had it all wrong:
18 = i was "an adult" by legal definition, but lo! - still just a kid, but an empowered one at that - i could rock the vote, buy cigarettes and porn. i was riding out the end of high school, soaking up college like a dehydrated sponge... life was good. no, life was awesome!
19 = not really a "kid," but still a teenager. and living away from home for most of the year, i was far enough from home to still enjoy it when i came back. that is, i could be a kid, while still pretending to have my shit together the rest of the time.
20 = the end of the teenage years, in terms of numerology. a regretful time. but i got in enough wild debauchery just under the wire to make up for the lack of it in all the rest of my two decades of life.
21 = i earn the right to legally imbibe alcohol. the party seems to just be beginning! suddenly i can get into concert venues! the fun places to hang out and party double, no triple, in possibility! downtown Lexington is no longer a void! pass me a pint and turn up the music, all i wanna do is dance all night!...

you see, all those a priori assumptions and fears about my waning youth were unfounded. i put too much weight on the significance of numbers! and sure, this year could be no different, but here's a glimpse at what's in store for me as a 22nd year old:
-graduating from college, leaving my closest friends and the community i've become dearly attached to for a significant portion of my life for a world unknown (i consider 4 years of my 22 years - the first 5-8 years of which don't really count, i was hardly a real human being then - to be quite a significant amount of time, and they've certainly been the most formative)
-getting my first "real-world" job (that is: doing work for a wage that, livable or not, will have to sustain me and all my daily consumer habits), or possibly going to grad school
-living on my own, away from friends and family, and all the sturm und drang that comes with that
-moving to a new city, possibly having to buy a car, and etc. there's too much to think about

you see, i really am still a kid! i don't think i'm ready to be thrust into the world like this, and now turning 22... it just makes me wish i could slow down time for just a bit, just until i can catch back up to it.

i mean, i found clippings from the local newspaper about the Lord of the Rings movies in my room, remembered how much i loved going to see those movies in the theatres... and then i realized the newspapers were dated back to December 2002! that was 5 years ago! i was 16 then! i was in high school! i tried to remember what it felt like to be that young, to have so little in the way of worries, feeling absorbed by the immediacy of everything, having only to worry about getting into college and thinking that would be enough for now (for then...)

how strange it is to be turning 22. and to have nothing left after this but 23, 24, 25, etc. until i reach more decades, and then finally death.

are birthdays happy? maybe they should be... but i'll be spending mine writing my thesis.

meanwhile, i hope you enjoy these gifts [all links yousendit]

"are birthdays happy? or are they just a countdown to death? is there need to worry? there might not be much time left, i haven't lived my life yet!"

"Are Birthdays Happy?" - Jens Lekman

"there's only about 20 birthdays you should be allowed to celebrate. otherwise you are wasting cake and paper!"

"You are allowed 20 Birthdays" - Patton Oswalt

love and youth,
stephanie,
who was 21 when she wrote this


p.s. and all i want for my birthday? a decent enough ukulele, so i can play this song to my self, while wandering around in a nice pullover:

fragments of existence

sorry for the dreary lack of posts lately. i've not been doing well, december 2007 is becoming my least favorite month, i think. thank the Egyptians it's almost over.

for lack of anything more interesting, here's a glimpse into my recent holy daze: since i've been home, i haven't done anything but eat, sleep, freak out about senior project, sleep, get sick*, or freak out. (well ok, i've played a lot of piano too, but that's kinda a foil to the freaking out...)

*funny story about my health: i went into the doctor's office last wednesday to, supposedly, wrap up my hepatitis immunizations. since i got one in the summer before i went to Mongolia, my dad said if i had another within a year, i would be immune for life. and with me already running the gamut of vaccinations (this makes my 5th shot this year! hep 1, HPV shots 1 and 2, flu, and now hep 2) i thought, 'what's another shot?'

well, apparently i was too trusting of my local health care professionals. i should have known something was wrong the moment they failed to find my immunizations record. i had to insist that i got a hepatitis shot over the summer before i went abroad. after that, they told me that i'm supposed to get the second shot in the series within a month of the first one (which, do the math, already sounds like a bad idea, if i got the first in MAY). but after phoning to the ppl in the hospital basement, the nurse finally said OK and decided to go ahead with it.

turns out, because of my apparently missing record, the shot they gave me on Wednesday was for hepatitis B, not A like i was supposed to get. which explains a lot. the hep A shots are just 2 shots within a year of each other. the hep B shots are a series of 3. furthermore, i've ALREADY gotten the series, i've been immune since i was a kid!

so, let's recap, shall we? i'm STILL not immunized for hep A. AND, i've gotten shot 2 in a series of 3, without having had shot 1 and without plans to get shot 3. and all this having ALREADY been covered for hep B anyway. now i'm showing signs of jaundice, a symptom of hepatitis B. let's hope those childhood shots can at least keep me from developing hepatitis in my later life after having it reintroduced into my bloodstream by a syringe-happy nurse. yay for happy endings!

oh, and a senior project update: Bill hated my "first" 30 pages, despite both Gracie and Nick loving it. he threatens to not graduate me and to not give me my degree, AGAIN (this is #3, if anyone is keeping count), and he's given me an incomplete in the class, dropping my GPA to the absolute lowest i've ever seen it in my life, a 2.27, which might cause my scholarships to be taken away, and now he's set a Jan 1 deadline for the "new" 30 pages, which i am frantically trying to start writing but feeling ever more depressed each day i try to write it.

if it's any indication as to the kind of duress i'm facing, my gmail chat statuses from the last 24 hours:

FUCK! when did i run out of time??!!!

when did my major become something i detested so much?

all i want for Christmas and my birthday is to be done with senior project and well on my way to graduating in May...

♫ it's snowing in Lexington after 60 degree weather, and i FINALLY started on my project... this day is MAGIC.

♫ pls someone just shoot me. or better yet, shoot [name of oppressor].


tiny fists of rage!!!
-stephanie

holiday surprises

in a chat with my dear friend Brandon:

(my status: "there's a lumberjack in my backyard...")
Brandon:

1:32 PM please tell me that you ACTUALLY have a lumberjack in your yard?!

me: i do indeed

he just mounted the tree

i'm quite confused

Brandon: oooooh my lord. i want to be there

1:33 PM me: i hope he's not ACTUALLY going to cut down that tree

haha

Brandon: take pictures!! and videos!!!

me: oh dear lord, he just cut down a huge branch

and now he's draggin it away...

Brandon: this sounds intriguing

i'm so confused as to what kind of place you live in now haha

me: i wish i had a camera handy, it seems he's on the ground now and running

i'm really confused...

1:34 PM haha, me too!

this is the best moment ever caught on chat

EVER

Brandon: I think i would have to agree!!

i lumberjack running away with a tree branch!

my house is boring

1:35 PM me: haha

mine is too, 'cept for the occasional visitng lumberjack

how very strange indeed

1:36 PM Brandon: ode to having the occasional visiting lumberjack

that would surely make my heart sing

[15 minutes later]

me: hm.. it sounds as if sawing sounds are coming from the other side of hte house now...

what is going on???!!

is he taking limbs for firewood to sell at the store?

i don't understand...

1:48 PM gasp!! he's ringing the doorbell!

what do i do???

Brandon: maybe he needs to go to the emergency room!

or maybe he wants to seduce you

or give you your own lumber back

there are so many possibilities

1:49 PM you should open the door, take a picture, and then close it real fast

that would weird him out

1:50 PM me: haha! i have a picture!

i shall send it post haste

Brandon: did you answer the door?

me: no, it was the fedex guy

so much activity today...

happy holidays from the land of kentucky,
stephanie

QUIT SPLEENING ME, BILL!

EAT YR SHORT SHORTS AND LEAVE ME ALONE!

an update from the front lines of my senior project HELL (Bill litters my first 30 pages with hyperbolic vitriol, even though the dean of my college loved my use of personal voice, Bill believes there is "no room for introspection in an academic paper." pls, Bill. just b/c you don't have any inner feelings to explore doesn't mean i shouldn't be allowed to reflect on mine! anyway, check out my response, after this):

Stephanie,

The good news is that your words flow smoothly and (when you're not caught up in leftwing jargon) your writing is engaging; also, you're clearly passionate about your topic, which draws readers in, and you connect your personal experience thoroughly to what few sources you use from the professional literature.
The bad news is, as my in-text comments indicate, that you start by skating along the boundary of an acceptable senior project (making heavy use of an extended personal statement in what should be a substantive chapter) for the first six pages, only to veer off into an anti-intellectual rant on page seven at which point you abandon (consistent with your rejection of formal education) connections to professional literature, adopt an uncompromising left-wing political stance by page nine, and descend on page ten into a no-holds-barred political diatribe. Much of the rest of the chapter is about Stephanie and what few sources you even acknowledge are exclusively from the student organizing political literature.
My impression is that you started out trying to be responsive both to the academic demands of the course and to your own political/educational commitments, but you got caught up in and carried away by the rhetoric, and decided to say "to hell with the demands of formal education." It's also evident to me that you've made no attempt to research any sources that might challenge your ideological convictions (or even your presumptions about facts), and you have no intention of writing for anyone other than those who already agree with you. Even-handedness and persuasion be damned!
You've got a choice to make. You are, of course, free to reject Western's academic standards and write a totally biased, ideologically based, reductionist, anti-intellectual, anti-interdisciplinary diatribe—in which case, to be consistent, you must also choose to avoid being tainted by a bachelor's degree. Or you can decide that, maybe your brief is not against all of formal education—after all, you worked hard to save Western, which offers a formal education—and perhaps you can gain insights that would be useful skills for activist organizing by learning how to engage in formal scholarship about social activism, write a project that meets the academic standards of the institution, complete the requirements for the degree, and graduate. We discussed this choice quite openly at the beginning of the semester, and I could have sworn you decided for the latter. Did you change your mind?
Normally I would return a draft this unacceptable and request a revision before our three-way meeting, but my hunch is that you might benefit from talking with us (again) before starting your revision. If, of course, you wish to revise. The choice is yours.

Bill

---

Dear Bill,

After spending most of the evening and morning reflecting on your recent comments, I can see where you are coming from, and understand that my writing failed to convey a persuasive argument. I don't believe your vitriolic tone was justified, but your use of hyperbole was perhaps necessary to get me to understand my own distasteful use of exaggeration.

I admit that I erred, for once, on the side of punctuality, deciding to try to meet the deadline before I was ready to submit a thoroughly reasoned and researched paper. I compromised the content and quality of my paper, in addition to my reliability as a narrator.

I would like to point out that the senior project is a learning process, and I am certainly not opposed to learning from my mistakes. I am finding my voice along the way, and though it's not always the voice of reason, I would like you to respect my efforts in the process, and not be so quick to dismiss me. Furthermore, I believe education should be a collaborative process, and your consistently combative approach to my work does little to encourage my continued engagement. I hope you will take my feedback as seriously as I am taking yours, and reciprocate my efforts to change.

That said, I'd like to thank you for your comments. I look forward to our continued discussion tomorrow.

Sincerely,
Stephanie Lee

elfed self

weird.

ho ho ho?
-stef

(i'd say yes, "ho ho ho" indeed. those are some naughty dance moves those robot elf selves are making...)

it was the best Hanukkah ever!

i went to my friends Will and Laura's house to celebrate Hanukkah with their family. and, like Passover last year, it was a beautiful gathering. there was food, wine, and rejoicing.

and in the end, much spooning, wanton fondling of a mostly friendly nature, and MUSIC!! the Runyans busted out the guitars and djembes, and we let the party get carried away by a wave of a-rhythmic funk.

shabbat shalom!
-stef

keep on keeping on...

the media urges workers to cease their striking "for the sake of the children!" read on...

busy with finals and wrapping up business from the past semester and from the summer too. i just wanna make it thru the weekend, when most of my work will hopefully be done, and then enjoy hanging out without something hanging over my head.

so, for now, read (if you want) a paper i submitted in the past week on the state of labor relations in America today, and an indictment on Christmas.

-stef

------
The Villainization of the Worker and the Cultural Power of Christmas

When I first read the BBC’s article “Show goes on for Grinch musical” (November 22, 2007), I was reminded of the movie Love, Actually (2003). The film, in case you haven’t seen it, is an examination of eight London couples’ relationships during the holiday season. In it, improbable romances take bloom “because it’s Christmas” (offered to the audience as an excuse, or a rationalization – as if to aid in the suspension of disbelief). The final message isn’t so much that “Love conquers all,” but rather that there’s only one thing more powerful and irrational than Love: Christmas.
The recent halt to the stagehand strike on Broadway reminds me of this tendency in our movies – aptly depicted in Love, Actually – and in our culture to mythologize and bestow power to certain symbols. I mention Love, Actually because of the important link between spectacle, commodity and culture that it makes explicit: the film fetishizes love and the spirit of the holiday season, succeeding in having the audience and its characters surrender themselves to the power of Love and Christmas, depicted as a set of performances and exchanges of codified behaviors. The commodity and its spectacle are conflated: Love is Christmas and happy endings. In a society whose culture is largely mediated, cultural values are often articulated and reproduced in the form of spectacle: “The spectacle is not a collection of images; rather, it is a social relationship between people that is mediated by images.” And Christmas is Capitalism at its most spectacular: the pageantry, the parades, the commercials, the camped-out shoppers waiting as if for a new Star Wars film, whole city landscapes turned into Winter Wonderlands. Citizens turned into mall zombies, as in George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead (1978). These holidays are a holy daze.
This spectacularization becomes problematic because of its tendency to distract us from problems of lived existence. It is the tendency of the spectacle to replace reality with that of a hyperreality – “a world in which the spectacle defines, circumscribes, and becomes more real than reality itself.”
This is capitalism in action, enacted as spectacle, an illusion we uphold and defend at the expense of our fellow human beings. “The spectacle makes visible the world of the commodity dominating all that is lived.” This can be seen in the New York State Supreme Court judge’s injunction against the striking stagehands, demanding a resumption of their work “for the sake of this city.” The invisible force of labor in society suddenly made visible, it is imperative to the machine of Capitalism that labor protests be quelled as soon as possible, so that “life as usual” may resume. The article also mentions the popularity of Broadway among tourists, suggesting the need to end the stagehand strike in order to give them what they came for – an “authentic” NYC experience. The show must go on. Resume your positions. = The institution of Christmas exercising its domination by subjugating all other activities to its demands.
Within this dichotomy, the worker and his/her rebellion are situated in a position of delinquency, aberration, and worse – villainy. Anyone resisting or delaying the magic of Christmas is derogated – a “Grinch.” The story of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” exemplifies this mythology, telling of a bitter curmudgeon who experiences a “change in heart” due to the overwhelming spirit of Christmas. By withholding the popular Christmas show, the striking workers are depicted in a negative light, as challenging the very sanctity of Christmas itself. One of the article’s captions explains, “the musical is very popular with children,” the implication being that the workers are victimizing an innocent public by disrupting the holiday proceedings. “Do it for the children,” we say. Do it “for the sake of the city!”
This is an appeal to Christmas spirit: it’s a long-standing myth in American culture that Christmas is “the most wonderful time of the year,” a time for philanthropy, for goodwill towards all, and for outstanding miracles. The stagehand strike went against the imagery of jubilation and goodwill associated with the holiday season, but Christmas soon conquered and quashed its opposition. “The spectacle is the moment when the commodity has attained the total occupation of social life.” The BBC’s article depicts the labor strike as a deviation from shared cultural values and reasserts the language of Christmas cultural mythology, calling the continuation of work a “miracle on 44th street.” The myth of Christmas spirit manifests itself in this particular instance to bedazzle us and quell opposition to a general capitalist mentality. We, the readers, become accomplices in suppressing the rebellion of the workers, we defend the spectacle at all costs, complaining about TV show reruns or a Broadway-less visit to NYC, rather than caring about the actual workers themselves or taking the time to understand the issues for which they are striking. The spectacle of Christmas becomes more real to us than the reality of labor disputes and workplace inequities.
This illustrates the power of the spectacle over our lived experiences, the entrancing nature of spectacle to deceive and distract. Submitting to the power of Christmas and its spectacle turns this moment of rebellion and critique into one of irreverence and then irrelevance.

Works Cited:
Society of the Spectacle by Guy Debord
Simulacra and Simulation by Jean Baudrillard

um...

as i was monitoring my site traffic this evening in between writing final papers and not going to the Cass McCombs concert as i had wished, i "stumbled upon" this:


um, right...

for those observant readers, you'd know that i have a personal endorsement from my hero Jens Lekman displayed proudly in the top right corner of my blog. well, it used to be labeled "a crisp endorsement from the CCAA booty patrol," a reference itself to an of Montreal song (and what does "the CCAA booty patrol" mean? i couldn't tell you, tho this question has sparked much heated debate...)

anyway, i find it disturbing that these kinds of things are being said about my blog, and my ass. tho i am glad to see one lewd person finds my blog "hip" and my ranting to be "very cute," i'm appalled by the demeaning urges that inspires in him. and i don't appreciate this being the standing reputation of my blog.

so, if you feel differently (and i hope most of you do!), please please PLEASE endorse my sight [sic] in a more pleasant way. something like "stephan!e's writing makes me feel like a kid again," or "this blog makes me feel safe in spite of all the wrathful disappointments incurred by modern life," or "if free rad!cal writings were a condiment, i'd eat it spread all over toast every morning with a cup o' tea." you know, something nice.

vote here: Stumble It!

i'm so meta...
-stephan!e