I heard this, and it put the biggest smile on my face.

So for those of you who claim to enjoy holiday music, I can't imagine you won't love this version of "Jingle Bell Rock" sung only with the words, jingle, bell, and rock.

Bell jingle rock jingle rock rock bell
Bell rock jingle rock bell rock bell
Rock bell jingle rock bell bell bell
Rock bell rock bell jingle jingle jingle!

I've been playing it non-stop. So it's worth at least a 30 second listen.

Yes. I am in a bad mood, you would be too. And there's no better way to take out my anger and frustration by being scathingly honest (and catty) when answering mundane questions! Done. And Done!
But it's all hugs and butterflies, right?

1. If you had to live in a different state than the one you live in what would it be?
I used to fantasize about living in Alaska when I was younger because of the cold and the darkness, but I've been interested in South Dakota for over a year. It's just as cold and dark there; it's just not as obvious.

4. How much do you think a guy should spend on an engagement ring?
I think the fact that there is a rule of thumb that men should spend two months salary is more than silly, it's stupid. I think he should spend enough time to know how much he can afford, and what she wants.

7. Would you rather be the smartest person in the world or the most attractive person in the world?
I would be the stupidest, ugliest person in the world if I could be the healthiest.

8. Do you think tattoos are hot?
For the most part, I think they are stupid decisions made by people without the foresight to see how their body is going to change in the next 30 to 60 years and without the imagination to express themselves in a more thoughtful manner.

26. Do you miss high school?
I don't miss high school, nor do I miss the people. I do miss the activities I participated in while attending high school. I miss singing, I miss acting, and I miss the combination in musical theater.

35. Do you believe in afterlife?
Most definitely, and you are all welcome.

38. How many kids do you see yourself having?
I may not have "issues" with childbirth and pregnancy, like Some people we know and love (sorry, I found that hilarious). My issues run much deeper, but lead to the same end. I do have two hypothetical children I talk about when the need arises.

40. Do you like butterflies?
Not in real life. I like songs that mention them, and I used the phrase "it's all hugs and butterflies" as a synonym for everything's fine. But it never caught on.

45. Do you have to sleep with something "ON" every night in order to sleep?
Several things. A minimum of three articles of clothing, a sheet or some other covering, and noise typically white or musical.

48. Would you rather go snorkeling in the Caribbean or hiking on the Appalachian Trail?
First, I hate hot weather. Second, I don't own a swimsuit.
Third, I really like hiking. I miss trees and woods and nature. Anyone want to go winter camping? It's not that cold, and there's still no snow.

Sometimes life really does even itself out. I thought it was going to be bad, but then I discovered a wonderful little secret today.

I have been going to school in same building*, five days a week**, for four years. And I thought I knew all of its secrets. I know which water fountains taste the best, where you can find a comfortable quiet place to sleep, or study, where the good vending machines are (ice cream!), and pretty much anything else you need to know.

So of course, I thought knew which were the best restrooms to use, depending on how fast you need to get there. Today I discovered a new bathroom I never knew existed, and I don't think anyone else does either. It is pristine, with that new construction smell. It's my new favorite! And I'll bet it doesn't have gonorrhea.

A good public restroom is a gift that keeps on giving.

*It's actually a complex of five buildings named after seven people, but it is near impossible to figure where one stops and the other starts.
**Ok, more like four.

If it wasn't bad enough that my beloved Peter Boyle died, but an entire species was declared dead too.

I bet there was a party at the Reaper's studio apartment last night!

So this morning Sol was bragging about how nice her ornaments are, she didn't say it but the word classy was implied. Sure, I could sit around and be jealous or I can revel in how craptacular my family's ornaments are!

Here are a few of my favorites:

1. The Pipe-cleaner star: This is something I made, and my stupid pills* are really making it hard to describe. There are 4 pipe cleaners and the midpoint they are twisted to join all of them together, and the 8 ends stick out along the x, y, and z axis in all four quadrants. But it is all scrawny and bent, it looks so sad.
2. Bongo and Waldo: This seems to be some kind of 2" by 2" cardboard advertisement for two stuffed sweaters wearing teddy-bears. Their names, Bongo and Waldo, are printed along the bottom.
3. The M&M Santa: You know how around the holidays some candies come in clear tubes that may or may not look like candy canes? And they put a cute little stopper on it. I believe that in 4th grade my secret santa gave me a tube of M&Ms, and it had an M with a santa hat on for the stopper. When I was done eating the candy, I put the cheap plastic figure on the tree. Since then it has been part of the permanent collection.
4. The Cube: I made a cube out of several pieces of origami paper, and voila! I made an ornament. It is green, orange, black, yellow, and hideous. There is no way to actually attach it to the tree, so you just kind of set it on a limb. And repeat; because it keeps falling off.
5. Handicapped Scrooge: I think A Christmas Carol's Ebenezer Scrooge might have been a little more considerate if he was like ours. We have a figurine showing the reformed Scrooge with Tiny Tim up on his shoulder, and his feet are broken off. It's nice to see a man with no feet carrying a crippled boy.

We also have plenty of tired ornaments, beaded styrofoam balls missing half of their beads and ancient colored glass balls will the paint chipping off, to name a few. That isn't to say we don't also have nice ornaments, but the ugly, odd, and broken ornaments are the ones that have stories.

Do you have any not nice ornaments that you keep around?

*Of course, most of the stupidity isn't a side-effect, but I can get a pharmacist who specializes in this class of medication to attest to the fact that my newest combo is actually making me less intelligent.

You know all those funny stories about people who are singing out loud with someone and they embarrassed when they find out that what they thought were the correct lyrics, were in fact, not?
There wasn't a bathroom on the right, there wasn't a secret asian man, and Tony Danza was not going to hold you closer.

This isn't one of those times. In my case, I can't stop incorrectly singing the lyrics to songs, when I know the correct ones. It really bothers me, too.

During Sufjan Stevens' "Woman at the Well", he says "she was a fountain then", but I sing, "she was a fountain pen". In the beginning of Pete Yorn's "Alive" he says "Sometimes it's pain" and I sing "Some Thomas Paine". Remember, I've been loving that song since September, and I just started missaying the lyrics and I can't stop. It has to be the oddest acquired habit? Eccentricity? Neurosis? I don't even know what it is, but it is the weirdest thing I have ever picked up. But now every time I hear those parts I hear the "wrong" lyrics, despite that they are clearly enunciated in the songs.

Have you ever started a new behavior that you thought was annoying, but couldn't seem to stop?

There is a warning at the end of the advertisement for the unaffordable FurReal Friends Butterscotch Pony. (emphasis mine)

Adults take note: Pony comes unassembled in box with head detatched. You may wish to not open the box around your children if they may be frightened by a box with a decapitated horse inside.

I think low rise long underwear would be a really good piece of clothing for someone to make. I have to wear long underwear under actual clothes, like dress pants because when I walk over a mile and it is 6 F out, I need a bit more than a thin layer of material on my legs. And having the long underwear come up at least 4 inches past my waist-line isn't very flattering. So, invent that and get back to me.

Here's the case study I was talking about- The first case of homosexual necrophilia in the mallard Anas platyrhynchos . And there are pictures... In all seriousness, it's actually sort of interesting to read the full article. Did you know I was forced to catalogue Mallard courtship and mating behavior at Como for class? Good times.

I still don't feel like I have enough time to devote to finishing the journal about a road trip I am planning based on a cd I'm in love with. And no, this isn't my South Dakota road trip, because that isn't so much based on a cd as it is based on a feeling, a feeling that I need to see the endless expanse of prairies before I will feel complete. But I don't think I could convince anyone to come to South Dakota with me. Plus it's more a search for tangible solitude and loneliness, so it's just as well that there aren't any takers.

But I opened a weeks worth of mail today, and here's the best of it.

1. Anne Geddes has a Philanthropic Trust for abused and neglected children. Not only does a small percentage of each purchase made with this special Visa go to her fund, but each dollar spent is also a point towards earning Anne Geddes merchandise, which I find disturbing. Just spend $10,000 and get a bag with the popular "Cheesecake" design which features a baby on a pile of pink roses. Where the cheesecake part comes in, I don't know. There's a little part of me that hopes money ends up going to children that were disfigured when shoved into flowerpots, or were forced to dress up like animals for the sick amusement of adults, you know, neglect and abuse Anne Geddes style.

2. There is a Targetto! When I use my check card at Target, it shows up on my checking account statement with some stuff about purchase number and then this. For one of the stores I shopped at this month it says "TARGETT (the address)", for the other it says, "TARGETT0 TARGETT0052". I swear, I shopped at Targetto. And you thought we were just being mean when we called it that.

3. The University I currently attend would like me to donate money to them to use for scholarships.

4. I earned $32.82 this quarter playing the stock market. It's not so much playing the stock market, as it is having the game on but being in the other room watching a movie. To celebrate my glorious birth, my grandfather's brother bought some stocks in an energy company in my name. Dividend, reinvestment, profit??? This piece of paper seems to tell me that I have 172.738 shares. I have no idea what's going on. Math is hard!

5. According to the Journal of Viral Hepatitis, the toothbrush of a person infected with hepatitis C virus (HCV) really is a source of potential transmission, according to a recently published myth-verses-reality study. In a study of 30 HCV-infected patients, HCV RNA was found in the saliva of 30% and 37% of the patients before and after toothbrushing, respectively, and on 40% of the used toothbrushes. While the presence of viral RNA on a toothbrush does not prove potential transmission of the infection, a theoretical risk of transmission is present.

I have to go study now. I hope your mail is fun and educational. But I bet it's not as educational, because my APhA Drug Info Line actually comes pre-three-hole-punched it's that informative.

I have so much fun stuff I want to write about, but since I have to "educate my colleagues on the epidemiology, pathophysiology, treatments, and prognosis of a condition that will not be covered in the curriculum" tomorrow, and am still only two-thirds done with the paper on Sjogren's, I'll just give you a quick bathtub update.

Unbeknown to me, my building is under new management so this afternoon, fifteen minutes after I get home, a maintenance person shows up. He's twelve maybe thirteen. He spends 80% of his time in the hallway, and voila, thirty minutes later, my water is draining better than ever. He doesn't like that it drips, so he wants to come back and fix that. I forgot to mention my moldy ceiling, but I feel like I shouldn't wear him out. I mean, he came the same day I called. It took three days to get the heating people here in the middle of January. And I got my bathtub fixed the day I called.

Isn't life great sometimes?

And so annoying and tedious others?

These safety and effectiveness parameters aren't writing themselves, so I should get back to work. It would be nice if they would, I had some osteoarthritis ones write themselves once. But this doesn't even make it into 2500 page textbook so I'll actually have to think.

Don't drink it.

Just call me jane, unsuccessful girl plumber! Yes, I fulfilled all my Mario and Luigi dreams by attempting to fix my bathtub. The faucet for hot water hasn't been able to turn off since I moved in 15 months ago, so I am used to hearing this dripping noise coming from my bathroom. Yesterday afternoon I noticed that the drip was a little louder, a little more resonant, so I went to investigate and lo and behold I found my bathtub half filled with water tinted with a greasy orange substance and the bottom of tub covered with particulate matter.

I began with the standard methods, unscrewing everything that had screws and poking around for a clog, and then plunging like there was no tomorrow. I finally managed to get the tub to start draining slowly and headed off to buy some super toxic chemicals that would work magic. When I got back, the tub was drained, and I cleaned it out and the crap on the bottom was disgusting, but little did I know it would get worse. I dumped half of bottle down, and watched as it bubbled back up with more disgusting pipe crap. The pipes threw up into the tub a couple more times, and I couldn't even tell you what was coming up. Possibly paper, maybe bark, lots of sandy stuff, yellow goo.

Today I filled the tub with nice clear water and opened the drain and it took about an hour to empty. I thought things were better. But I went back in an hour ago to a few inches of smelly dirty water, and I'm all out of chemicals. Plunging didn't help. And I haven't bathed in days.

If I have to be here for someone to fix this, I'll be so not happy. But I've decided that it can't just be my problem, because that wouldn't explain the random backing up. So it's probably a whole apartment thing, right? But why hasn't it affected any other plumbing, why is my sink just fine?

But here's a little news tidbit to make you shift uncomfortably in your seat, Mike Tyson, convicted rapist, is going to be a prostitute.

I am so sick of politics. It feels like we have been talking about this upcoming election for six months, and it isn't even a presidential election. I am sick of reading about all the things that people are doing that nobody is happy about. I am sick of the manipulation of the truth and underhanded tricks.

I've never met an undecided person. I am not even sure they exist. I hate talking about politics with someone I don't agree with, because no matter how long we bring up example after example we'll still think we are right. And I just end up angry and frustrated and we respect each other a little less. I've managed to avoid it for the most part so far, but the thing is, it isn't going to be over tomorrow.

Being the good little citizen I am, I went to do some last minute research so I would be familiar with everyone I was voting for. And I was completely shocked. Guess what is on my ballot, a chance to vote on a constitutional amendment that bans gay marriage. But the progression for Wisconsin doesn't end there; I also get to vote on an amendment reinstating the death penalty! By the by, Wisconsin holds the record for longest time without an execution.

I am so sick of politics.

I enjoy reading McSweeny's lists. Some of them are really funny, a lot of them aren't. The most recent one is Prescription Drug or Metal Band?. That's a really common format, "this or that?". I recall "Ikea product or Lord of the Ring Character" being particularly funny.

So I went through the list, and as someone who has worked a pharmacy for three years I could easily and immediately pick out the names of the prescription drugs. Then I looked at the answers, they were wrong!

Here's the list:

1. Norvasc
2. Xentrix
3. Skelaxin
4. Glycolax
5. Eidolon
6. Acyclovir
7. Hirax
8. Mythotyn
9. Krabathor
10. Ilium
11. Ketek
12. Insomnium
13. Armour Thyroid
14. Depakote
15. Lantus
16. Diovan
17. Zetia
18. Gorgoroth
19. Amebix
20. Finntroll
21. Behexen
22. Flonase
23. Xalatan
24. Avelox
25. Ted Nugent
26. Treponem Pal
27. Advair Diskus
28. Zocor
29. Ensiferum
30. Ambien

Here's the answers:
Metal bands: 2, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 25, 26, 29
Prescription drugs: 1, 3, 4, 6, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 22, 24, 27, 28, 30

First, they forgot to categorize number 15 at all, it is a prescription drug. It's an insulin that crystallizes in the skin after injection which gives it a longer release than regular insulin's. But even worse is when they classified number 23, Xalatan, as a metal band. It's not. It's a first-line glaucoma treatment.

There's no one to contact. If there was I really would. And I understand the point isn't accuracy, it's humor. I just think they should get it right.

I read this article today that might even get Smoochy to head to church*. It's a story about Episcopalian churches that have incorporated U2 songs into church services. And they gave them the funniest name ever- U2Charist services! There just aren't enough eucharist puns these days. I guess it's growing in popularity because 150 churches in 15 states now hold U2Charist services. I'm kind of intrigued. I keep trying to think of songs that might work, but I'm not that well versed in the U2 oeuvre and all I can think of are "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "Where the Streets Have No Name" which don't seem to fit very well.

*just kidding, nothing could make that guy go to church

I think the headline says it all: Animal bordellos draw Norwegians.

Unsurprisingly, "in correspondence with the animal owners, the newspaper was told that the animals involved have many years of experience and that the animals themselves wanted sex".