How are you today? I'm superfantastic.

Might we be kidding ourselves?

I could be wrong here...

...but I don't think you can actually reduce your death risk.  I think we're all pretty much at a 100% risk of death.  No matter how much aspirin you take.  (Or how many blueberries you eat, although when added to Kashi Go Lean Crunch, they increase the risk of tastiness by 100%!)

What I am also not buying:

• That Heather Locklear colors her own hair with a box from the drugstore.
• That I will use less gas if I drive slower.  This can obviously not be true because it would take me longer to get places, thus using MORE gas.
• That bees are more afraid of me than I am of them.
• That skinny jeans will make me look skinny.
• That whole "no two snowflakes are exactly alike" thing.  Like anyone could actually know that.

Some delusions, however, I am perfectly happy to remain under:

• That I can get out of bed at 7:30 and make it to work by 8:00.
• That preservatives help keep me young.
• That if I can't see the back of my hair, it must look fine.
• That the good driving karma I build by letting people in front of me will inevitably return to me.
• That Joaquin Phoenix is just as yet unaware of how much he wants me.

What about you, Internet?  Are you deluding yourself?  And what are you not falling for?

Just Schilling

Thanks, everybody for the great comments and total lack of hate mail having to do with that last post.  You all continue to surprise me with your coolness.  I’ve clambered down off my soapbox now and put it in the closet for the time being (the better to reach the top shelves!)  It occurred to me that probably I should post something here and yet I have no humorous anecdotes or righteous indignation for you today.  So instead, I offer this product review and subsequent stream-of-consciousness blathering.  Enjoy!

Amy recently endorsed Philosophy On a Clear Day Blemish Serum over on the Advice Smackdown, which I read since I am girliness-impaired.  I hadn't even been inside a Sephora until last summer.  But Amy said this Blemish Serum, while ridiculously expensive, was well worth plunking down some serious cash for since it was so highly effective.  And, as of recently, this sort of product has become of interest to me due to some problematic skin issues.

See, when I said that I seldom worry, I meant it.  Occasionally, I will begin to worry about something and then I tell myself, "well, that's not helping" and I stop.  Seriously.  But sometimes, even the most "eh" of us have stress in our lives.  I personally don't so much feel stress as see it break out on my face.

(Although with your more intense stress, I do sometimes feel it in the form of the reappearance of Stabby the Ulcer.  No, I have not gone to a doctor about this because it's really just some stabbing pain that comes on every, oh say, once a year or two and goes away completely on its own.  So not really worth seeking medical treatment over, but totally worth naming.  Because then I can say, "No, Stabby, no!  BAD STABBY!")

Where was I?

Ah, yes.  Amy (that's Roommate Amy, not Internet Rockstar Amy) and I visited Sephora on Saturday night, where we wandered around looking for some skincare.  Normally, I find that you have to peel the Sephora salespeople off with a spatula, but apparently, should you actually be looking for something, you're pretty much on your own.  Amy had just picked up the box when a Sephora boy in chartreuse eye shadow (uh huh) finally came over to ask if we needed any help.  We resisted the urge to hand him the nearest bottle of eye makeup remover.

Short story VERY long, Amy was right, and in my (rather limited) experience with it, this stuff is a miracle product.  So should you have need of such a product, get thee to Sephora.  And if not, then hooray for you, but I'm pretty sure the rest of us don't want to hear you gloat about it.

A serious post having to do with religion. Proceed at your own risk.

Did I ever tell you that once I provoked a church-wide controversy by hosting a cocktail party at my apartment?  No, of course I didn't.  We don't talk about that kind of stuff.  Until now.

Maybe "church-wide" is a bit of an exaggeration, but the controversy did reach all the way to the elders of this rather large, exceptionally conservative church.  Everyone invited to this small cocktail party was over the age of 21.  The party was in no way affiliated with the church or any of its groups.  But somebody needed some attention or something and threw a fit and a controversy it became.

It really was the living end for me at that church.  I liked a lot of the people, but I couldn't go there anymore.

Then I found this church where people are fully capable of admitting that hey, none of us are perfect and God doesn't always make sense and life's not always fair, but we're in it together.  To be quite honest, I never made much of an effort to get in on that togetherness because I'm pretty shy and all of that, but I watched from the edge and it looked like good stuff.

I don't count the people from that church among those Christians who went a long way toward putting me off Christianity.  But there certainly have been plenty of those Christians and they have had some success.  I make every effort these days to steer clear of those people, but they keep cropping up.  In some ways, I have found them quite helpful.  Through their example, I see what I do and do not believe.

I do not believe that God's will is some sort of cosmic Choose Your Own Adventure novel.  I do not believe that there is a prescribed person, place, job, and number of children that I must have in order to be "in God's will" and that any deviation from these will be my own undoing.

I believe that God's will for my life is that I love him and love my neighbor.  Period.  The end.

I do not believe that we get a free pass from God for not loving anyone based on their looks, actions, past, religious beliefs, political ideology, sexual orientation, or marital status.

I believe that that "take the plank out of your own eye first" business is some good shit.

I believe that it's ok to use words to make points.

I do not believe that an SUV and a big house in the suburbs are evidence of righteousness any more than I believe that poverty or disease are evidence of unrighteousness.

I do not believe that Americans are God's chosen people.  If you'll consult your Old Testament, you'll find that that title is pretty well sewn up.

I believe that the concept of taking God's name in vain has a lot more to do with using it to your own gain and justification than it has to do with what pops out of your mouth when you smack your head on the cabinet door.

I do not believe that a Jesus alive in the twenty-first century would spend his time whining about people saying "happy holidays" or fighting for organized prayer in schools or engaging in a culture war or crusading against gay marriage.  If the New Testament is any indication, it seems to me that he'd be more concerned with feeding people, healing people, and talking about forgiveness.  So I believe that's what we should still be about too.

I do not believe that it matters all that much what we believe on any of that small, petty stuff that Christians are always fighting about.

I believe that real faith should have more questions than answers and that anyone who tells you otherwise is covering for something.

Gordon recently wrote something which included the phrase "love the idea of God".  Some people sure did have a fit about that.  I really liked it though.  I think if we're honest with ourselves, there are times for a lot of us when that's pretty much the best we can do.  And I believe that God is ok with that.

I guess what I'm saying is that if you think that you have God one hundred percent figured out, I'd question that.  And I'd also think it was too bad.  You'd be missing out on the mystery, which to me is really the loveliest part of this whole faith thing.  I'd advise you to open up to the idea that there might be more than you know and that you might not be entirely correct.  You don't have to listen to me, of course.  You're free to tell me that I'm dead wrong and why.  But I don't have to believe you.

That's pretty much all I have to say about that.

Because surely you have something more interesting to say today than I do.

I recently had to write an essay (for a job application) on the topic, "Tell about books and authors that have been especially meaningful to you."  This was a challenge for me.  Not because I couldn't think of any.  No sir or ma'am, there were just far too many to pick from and to then make into a cohesive essay.  And believe you me, four weeks into this test scoring job, I KNOW incohesive writing.  Far be it from me to add to the massive volumes of it that I know to be in existence.  So I toiled greatly over my essay.

But this being the Internet, cohesion be damned!  I figured that since I seem to have a lot of written word geeks hanging around here, you might have some really fascinating answers.  And YOU don't even have to worry about how to phrase your answer (Superfantastic is not currently hiring.)  So have at it, reader people.  Inquiring geeky minds want to know.

Why?

- Do I have the theme from The Godfather stuck in my head?

- Do people put apartment listings up on Craig's List with photos of the outside of the apartment complex, but not the inside of an apartment?  Particularly when these are downtown lofts that I can clearly not afford but am only looking at to see what $1500 gets you for a one bedroom in Austin?

- Does the girl next to me at my evening job chew on ice all night when it is so freaking cold in there that people wear gloves and bring blankets?

- On Grey's Anatomy, did Callie stop at just throwing George's jacket at him and kicking him out after what he said?  This paints an unrealistic picture for any men who may be watching, because the real life consequences of something like that would be SO MUCH WORSE.

And now...News from the Weekend!

Good news: Amy ripped out a 7 Minute Butt-Building Work-Out plan from one of her sporty magazines for me.  Look out, Jessica Biel, I am coming for you.

Bad news: My fortune cookie said "You will have a romantic evening tonight."  Unless that cookie considers watching last week's Grey's Anatomy to be a romantic evening, then the cookie was clearly just yanking my chain.

Good news: Even if McDonald's doesn't come through for you, not to worry!  Culver's will make you a mint shake any day of the year!  Which you can then render even more festive on St. Patrick's Day with the addition of some Bailey's.  Wouldn't my Irish ancestors want me to get drunk AND fat in their honor?  I think yes.

Bad news: The weekend is now officially over.  Cue melancholy music.  Maybe THAT'S why the theme from The Godfather!

Just a few links. For you!

I thought that Joe Mathlete Explains Marmaduke was pretty hilarious.  Then I clicked over to Joe Mathlete Will Draw Anything You Ask Him To and nearly peed my pants (and by extension, my desk chair.)  Go there - you'll thank me.  You can do so in the comments or by email.  Or call me if you are one of the privileged few with that option available to you.  I am sorry to tell you that if you do not find this funny, we can no longer be friends/relatives/associates/Internet strangers.  Well, ok, we can still be strangers.

And because misery loves company, MY EYES!  (Not for the faint of heart.)  You probably won't want to thank me for that one, but if you feel the need to cuss me out over it, please do so via email or telephone.  My mom reads this.

There are places I'll remember

I was reading this list earlier of Americans' favorite architecture.  I've been to several of these places since lots of them are in DC or New York and there are even two right here in Austin.  I'd say that America has made some good choices.  This got me thinking about some of my favorite places, whether architectural or otherwise.  And here are some of them:

The Milwaukee Museum: My parents used to take us there when we were kids and we thought it was pretty much the best place on Earth.  Like Grover's Everything in the Whole Wide World Museum come to life.  But with a rain forest and an igloo!  Our favorite part was The Streets of Old Milwaukee where you got to walk around all of these old timey buildings and look in the windows at the (fake) people and the stuff.  Legalized voyeurism - what kid wouldn't love that?

Sheep Meadow: At Central Park.  Teaching, as I was, at a rather prestigious two year college, I only spent about 25 hours a week in class and the rest of my time was mine.  Having no money whatsoever, I needed free stuff to do.  What better to do with that free time when it was decent out than to hang out at Sheep Meadow?  There are always lots of people there lounging, reading, having picnics, playing sports, and speaking every language in the world.  The grass is perfect for barefoot walking and you can just see the tops of buildings above the trees.  Sigh.  I can also highly recommend the carousel in Central Park.  It is the high-speed thrill ride of carousels, and what else can you get in New York for a buck?  Honorable mention goes to Bryant Park, where I put in a lot of hours at the little green tables, correcting thousands of poorly-written papers.  It has a Starbucks hut.

Beatley Central Library: I put in a lot of time here too, back when I lived in Alexandria.  If this library had served coffee and chocolate, they would have had to forcibly remove me.  As much as I love libraries in general, I have yet to find one that I enjoy spending time at quite as much as this one.  I'm pretty sure that I paid off my fines before I moved.  Beatley Central Library made a pretty penny off of me in those five years, but that's ok.  I think they deserved it.

Lambeau Field: Obviously.

Smithsonian National Museum of American History:  Even after having been there approximately one hundred thousand times with high schoolers, I still love this place.  It's free, so there's that, and obviously has all kinds of wondrously geeky exhibits.  And the giant book shop in the basement is great.  But I bet you didn't know that they also serve the best sugar cookies ever made.  Seriously.  I am not a fan in general of the sugar cookie, but I could not get enough of these.  My staff bought me American History Museum sugar cookies as my end of the year gift.  Holy moly, I just saw on the website that the museum is closed for TWO YEARS.  Give me a minute...

Champ de Mars: At the foot of the Eiffel Tower.  Like Sheep Meadow, except with the Eiffel Tower and you can legally drink wine.  We had a couple of lovely picnics here, stopping now and again to say "holy crap, that's the Eiffel Tower RIGHT THERE!"  Sort of like when I used to meet Carl or Vicki for lunch at Lafayette Square Park in front of the White House and would occasionally think "holy crap, I'm just eating lunch in front of the White House!"  Apparently eating near an iconic structure is particularly mind-bending for me.

The Outer Banks: Of North Carolina.  Every year, at the end of the season, all of the civic education program staff would spend a week (the thought-provokingly titled "Beach Week") in the Outer Banks.  We'd all rent beach houses and life revolved around sleep, lounging on the beach, eating, and drinking with lots of friends.  I tell you, it was the life.  As a result of many years of Beach Weeks, civic education organizations are specifically prohibited from renting beach houses there.  That's what we were all about - making a difference.

The UW-Whitewater University Center: And it's surrounding grassy area.  Oh, UC and surrounding grassy area, how much time did I spend hanging out in you?  Sometimes I had so much fun seeing friends and talking that I'd accidentally miss my next class.  Whoops!  (Note to my mother who is currently pursing her lips and shaking her head: I still graduated magna cum laude, thank you very much.)  And no one will ever convince me that you can get a better sub anywhere in the world than at the Graham Street Cafe in the UWW UC.

So there you have it: two museums, a library, and lots of outdoor hang-out space.  Apparently I am outdoorsy in the most lazy way possible.  I like my outdoors to be conducive to some reading or a good conversation.  I am also realizing that I am apparently quite cheap.  The only non-free place on this list is the Milwaukee Museum, which I have not ever been to as an adult.  So my parents always paid.  (Laumbeau Field was free to me, courtesy of the UW-Whitewater Marching Band.)  I did have to pay for food and lodging at Beach Week, but the beach itself was free.

Here's your big chance, Internet: tell me where to go.  I mean to some of your favorite places.  Why, what did YOU think I meant?

Yet another post in which I go ahead and tell you something embarrassing that I swore I wouldn't tell the Internet.

Here's a movie line (from Notting Hill) that I didn't include in that other post, but which was stuck in my head Saturday morning as I prepared to go to the open house to meet Amy:

This is one of those key moments in life when it's possible to be really, genuinely cool and I'm going to fail just a hundred percent! 

I wouldn't say that I failed a hundred percent.  Maybe only 25%.  Read on, dear Internet, and you make the call.

Melissa showed up at my house around 11:00 dressed casually and yet bearing cute tops and heels.  She changed into one of these and, after inspecting my closet and finding nothing acceptable there, gave me her other top to wear.  She told me to wear this with jeans and pointy-toed heels.  I obeyed because I am fashion-impaired.  Then, after hair and make-up and a stop at the liquor store for Grey Goose and juice, we were off!

Melissa's navigation system, Bianca, led us to Jennifer's house.  Where we saw people sitting outside.  Casually-dressed people.  Realizing that we were way overdressed, we drove right on past and started heading back toward my house to change.  Except Jennifer lives far north of me, and I-35, a.k.a. The Vortex of Traffic Doom, was packed even on a Saturday afternoon.  It was nearing 1:00 and the party was scheduled to last until 2:00.  What to do?

Target, as usual, came to the rescue. 

Bianca found us a Target nearby and Melissa dropped me off at the door and then went to park and change in her car into her casual clothes.  I made for the shoes to pick up some flip flops before realizing that the jeans that fit with the four inch heels were clearly just not going to work out with flip flops.  I called Melissa who came in and started grabbing things off racks and tossing them at me so that mere minutes later I had a cute and casual new skirt and t-shirt, flip flops that Melissa grabbed while I was in the fitting room, and a new bra since the pink one I had on, showing through my new white shirt, was not going to make the statement I was hoping for.  I changed in the car and we were off!  Again!

Yes, Internet, I bought a whole new outfit because mine was ALL WRONG.  And I really wasn't going to tell you that.

Ok, so we arrived at Jennifer's once again and people were no longer outside, but this time we took the extraordinary step of parking the car, getting out, and actually going into the house.  Once inside, we met Jennifer, who was hosting and whose house is completely adorable.  And then we met Amy herself.  My first impression: she is teeny tiny.  And then we started talking and Heather B. you could not have been more correct in your comment on Melissa's post.  Which, for you lazy asses who can't be troubled to click on the link said, among other things:

She'll be one of the sweetest, least intimidating people that you will ever meet. I promise. And she's fun and funny and she actually is that pretty in real life.

All true.  She was so not indimidating, in fact, that I even spoke some actual words, not merely in her presence but directly to her.  We conversed, people.  (This should not imply that I didn't spend 90% of the time sitting mutely while other people talked.  I'm just saying that it wasn't the 100% that I had been anticipating.)  And she did not seem freaked out at all by all of the Internet fan-people, although she did admit to wondering whether it would be awkward, what with it being a party full of socially maladjusted Internet people.  (She was including herself in there - that sounded mean otherwise, didn't it?)  And she let us take pictures so we could post them on our blogs with long and drooly posts.  AND she said we should totally email her because we're, like, her people now.  How sweet is that?

Really, Lori?  You could buy a new outfit but not bother to de-frizz your hair? 

Oh, and there were other nice people there too!  Including Lisa, who really did bring tie-dyed pound cake (mmmm...) and jalepeno lemonade (right, as if I am not way too wussy to try that) and who told me that I look like Amy.  Which, while not true at all, was still one of the nicest things anyone has said to me in a good long while.

And today I am again wearing my new Target shirt which I now realize that you can sort of see down.  Awesome.

I sense a theme here

You should have talked to me yesterday.  Yesterday I was going on 10 solid hours of sleep and was happily enjoying geeky TV and being highly productive on the errand-running/household chores front and could have coherently told you the story of how I met Amy on Saturday and did not even make a gigantic fool of myself.  But then my body felt so damn well-rested that it did not feel any need whatsoever for sleep until roughly 5:00 this morning.    And then I had to wake up at 7:00.  You do the math.  Even the thunderstorm overnight, which normally I love, was pissing me off as I lay awake.  That's right - I was irritated with a weather phenomenon.

In conclusion, apwiurafeqkcvdahegriouwepnvbmcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

What are the chances that I would actually be FIRED for sleeping on my desk?

I am so very sleepy and let me tell you, the coffee is just not keeping up.

The thing is, even with the second job, I get home well in advance of the time that I normally go to bed.  So there should be no problem.  But as much as I have tried to convince it otherwise, my body will just not buy the idea that it is perfectly ok to go to sleep within one hour of arriving home from work.  My body feels that it has a good four more hours of awakeness to look forward to at that point.  This is not working so well for me.

I didn't used to have a problem with this back in my non-profit civic educator days of working 8-10 on a daily basis.  Because that job was mentally and physically exhausting and I was therefore capable of falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  Or a seat on the bus, a chair in the Hard Rock Cafe, or really even a bench in a park on Capitol Hill.  (I have just come to the sad realization that I did that job for LESS THAN HALF of what I make in a week at these two.  But I did get the free Hard Rock Cafe hockey-puck burgers, so it probably evens out.  Don't you think?)

The essay reading is at least mentally draining.  I can't tell you what the topic is or I'd be sleeping with the fishes, if you know what I mean (what I mean is that the TEA would chain a copy of No Child Left Behind to my ankle and drop me into the Gulf of Mexico to drown and eventually become encased in the tar that coats the bottom) but I can tell you that of the 200,000 11th graders who have written these essays, approximately 199,892 of them have written essentially the very same thing.

Note to high schoolers: The phrase is should HAVE, not should OF.  Also, "past" is not a verb.  The word you are looking for is "passed".  Thank you.

Note to all English-speakers everywhere of any age: "Theirself" is not any kind of actual word.  Cease and desist.

At this job, we get a fifteen minute dinner break.  This is just long enough, I find, to eat a standard-sized Granny Smith apple and exchange a few "you're not going to believe this essay I just read" stories before heading back.  In the actual scoring room, only gum and hard candy are permitted.  Unless, apparently, you are the guy sitting in front of me.  Then you can eat Cheetos and later, when you are supposed to be scoring, go and get yourself a candy bar and proceed to eat that too.  This bothered me far more than it should have.  See, I am a rule follower.  That's not to say that I don't constantly speed or occasionally have the urge to walk on some grass only because I see a "Keep Off Grass" sign, but in general if I hear a reasonable-sounding rule, I follow it.  And I expect everyone else to do the same.  And if they don't, I would like them to be punished.  It was obvious to everyone in the area that the eating rule was being broken since we work in silence and a chip bag is quite noisy.  I wanted a supervisor to tell him to stop.  Why?  Why should I care?  I didn't want to eat Cheetos.  I think it's just the idea that this person doesn't feel like rules apply to him and no one bothered to disabuse him of that notion.  I bet he is also one of those people who races up the Exit Only lane in front of me, even though he has no intention of exiting, and then slams on his brakes at the last minute to get over so we all have to stop and wait for him.  Those people are a menace.

What was I talking about again?  Oh yeah.  I could really use a nap.

The End

Look out - she's advancing theories again.

My latest theory has to do with the inner workings of the female mind.  I know.  Frightening territory.  But based on the overwhelmingly positive response I got from females when explaining this concept to a single male friend, I feel strongly that I have succeeded in decoding the female psyche for you.  You're welcome. 

DISCLAIMER: What you choose to do with this information is in no way my responsibility.

Here's what I think: inside of every female mind, there exist two distinct personalities, two warring factions, if you will.  (Won't you?)  These are Inner Rational Girl and Inner Crazy Girl.  Your basic difference between women then is the amount of time that each of these beings spend running the show.

A short guide for the benefit of all of you men out there:

Inner Rational Girl understands that when you say something, you are generally saying that thing and only that thing.  Inner Crazy Girl believes that there are layers of meaning and subtext behind every statement you make and will spend hours attempting to decipher them despite Rational Girl's protests to the contrary. 

Let's say we come to you and tell you about some injustice perpetrated by our boss.  Inner Rational Girl realizes that you are trying to be helpful when you give advice about a plan of action or that you are attempting to empathize by telling us about YOUR jerk of a boss.  Inner Crazy Girl feels like you aren't hearing her or you don't care what a tyrannical despot she may be working for.  You'd be better off with both of these girls by sticking to a variation on "that sucks".  Feel free to elaborate about how and why that sucks, but in general you cannot go wrong with an emphatic "rat bastard!"

Inner Crazy Girl is the one who asks you if we look fat in these pants.  I can't help you here.

We try to save as much of Inner Crazy Girl's ranting as possible for our girl friends.  Again, you're welcome.  Our girl friends understand Inner Crazy Girl in a way that you never will.  Our Inner Crazy Girls go running through a field together hand in hand, screaming at the top of their lungs about how dumb you are.  Don't be offended.  Sometimes you are dumb, but we like you anyway and Rational Girl sees all of your many good qualities even through the haze of your most intense periods of dumbness.  But if you get funny looks from our girl friends, this is why.

Some of us have done a pretty good job of beating down our Inner Crazy Girl until she is hardly ever able to come out.  No matter how effective we have been at this though, there are still a couple of days every month when Crazy Girl takes the reins.  We don't like this any more than you do.  Allow me to repeat that: WE DON'T LIKE THIS ANY MORE THAN YOU DO. 

Because if you think that we're no party to be around, you should try existing in our heads just then.  Except not, because there is no way that you could handle that level of unadulterated crazy.  Imagine for a moment that you have no kind of coping mechanism whatsoever.  Everything that happens is the worst thing in the world and everything that anybody does is the most annoying thing in the world.  Inner Rational Girl is frankly not helping matters by pointing out how hugely Inner Crazy Girl is overreacting to absolutely everything.  Now she feels even worse for her inability to control her crazy.  It's not pretty, guys.  We try to filter it for you, we really do, but you'll excuse us if we're not always successful.

And if you ever ASK whether you are speaking with Rational Girl or Crazy Girl, may God help you.  Because Inner Rational Girl will be powerless to help you and may not really care to anyway.

So there you have it fellas.  Lori's Superfantastic. Guide to Girls.  Best of luck.

(Confidential to Cube Neighbor Steve: Your new wife's "best bridesmaid" is called a maid of honor, not a maitre d'.   Extra special good luck to you.  I think you're going to need it.)

Muppets boldly go where even Bill Cosby fears to tread

Recently, on a Friday night, Amy and I were sitting at home watching The Muppets Take Manhattan (Lori, you ask, how will you ever stay healthy while working two jobs AND maintaining your fabulous cosmopolitan lifestyle?  I do not know.) when we discovered our new favorite marginally rude comeback: PUT SOME JELL-O DOWN YOUR PANTS!  Try to say this to someone.  No really, try.  Can you do it with a straight face?  Because it took us several attempts.

I had kind of forgotten about this until yesterday when I went to eat pudding at my desk and some fell right off the lid and onto my jeans.  And then I thought, "if you're going to go around getting pudding on your jeans, you might as well put some Jell-O down your pants!  Ha!"  And then it occurred to me that maybe I could parlay this one marginally humorous anecdote into a whole post about movie lines.  Et voila, the post!

One of my favorite movie lines comes from Magnolia, a movie that I hated a lot.  My friend Carl made his girlfriend Jocelyn and me watch it when they were staying at my apartment.   Jocelyn and I hated it in equal amounts.  We rented it at Blockbuster on my card and then took it back very late and I have therefore never rented anything at Blockbuster again since I absolutely refuse to pay any more money for that movie.  Anyway, in it, a reporter has just outed Tom Cruise's character on lies he has told and when he sits, staring at her, she asks him what he is doing.  And he says, "silently judging you."

Let's hope that the rest of these require less exposition.

Tombstone has some great lines, doesn't it, what with your "I'm your huckleberry" and your "You're a daisy if you do."  But I think this is my favorite part:

Billy Clanton: Why, it's the drunk piano player. You're so drunk, you can't hit nothin'. In fact, you're probably seeing double.
Doc Holliday: [takes out a second gun] I have two guns, one for each of you.

Oh, pre-downward spiral Val Kilmer, you slay me!

Naturally, as a female, I have my favorite Steel Magnolias lines.  Namely, "That whole family looks like they were carved out of cream cheese."  (We all know one of these families, don't we?)  Also, "I'm pleasant.  Damn it!"

Which sort of leads into my next two selections for all of the repressed folks among us.  From What About Bob?, "Give me.  Give me.  I NEED!  I NEED!"  (fun to say, you know, in gest) and, from The Grinch, "Help me, I'm...FEEEEEEELING!"  Indeed.

In Love Actually, when Emma Thompson discovers that her husband has given a necklace to another woman, she asks him, "would you stay, knowing that life would always be a little bit worse?"  Perfect.

Then there is Bridget Jones telling Mr. Darcy, "my legs only come up to here and yes, I will always be just a little bit fat."  Also perfect.  And when she then says, "You see, you never can muster the strength to fight for me," augh.  Good thing he comes around.  Oh wait, did I just spoil that for anyone?

Should I admit how much I love You've Got Mail?  No?  Well then I will just say that the line "So much of what I see reminds me of something that I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?" hits a little close to home.  I also enjoy when Tom Hanks says "Patricia is amazing.  Patricia makes coffee nervous."  I have known these people as well.  They make me tired.

And finally, since it is the last one I can think of here at work, I offer you this gem from Return to Me.  Bonnie Hunt is telling Minnie Driver all of the things she can do after she gets a heart transplant, such as date really handsome men and Minnie says, in a perfect Chicago accent, "I'm getting a new heart, not a new ass."

Ass transplants - if only!  Maybe I'll just put some Jell-O down my pants.

Ok, your turn.  I know I've missed plenty of my own favorite lines, much less all of yours!  I haven't even included one thing from The Princess Bride, because honestly, where to start?  Maybe you know.  I swear, I really don't only watch romantic comedies.  For whatever reason that's what I'm coming up with today.  Maybe I'll think of more good lines and have a whole extra post sometime!  That will come in handy when I haven't done anything interesting in a while!  Anyway, what have you got for us, Internet?