To discuss a Month in Review: March came in like a lion and then ate me

March sucks. It does have the minty glory of Shamrock Shakes from McDonalds, but every year, it sucks at everything else. March is just never a good time for me, and this year, I had family emergencies, health issues of my own, work problems and blog withdrawal, all at once. But I'm better now, and ready to give you a March Month in Review:

Favorite movie: "The Fast and The Furious" Not the new one, which I plan to see, but the old ones. I've been trying to explain to Capricorn how these are all stellar movies, but she continues to doubt me. It doesn't help when I explain that the general plot is "A couple dudes steal/race cars while a couple hot chicks get turned on and get PG-13 nude, then cops get involved, and there's a final race/car chase." I just remember seeing the original with my sister and us thinking how amazing those race scenes were, and my desire to drive my Nissan Altima 100 mph after that (Fortunately I didn't). I also remember saying I wanted to add NOS to everything.

Least favorite movie: "Chronicles of Narnia" Not my selection, but Capricorn's. She loved the entire movie-- literally sitting on the edge of my recliner-- until the end, when, spoiler alert, the kids fall out of the wardrobe and back into reality (also, in "Titantic," the ship sinks). She expected them to keep chilling with Aslan forever. I told her that, since Aslan is the Jesus symbol, he can't stay behind after he's resurrected. If she has problems with that, she'll have to take it up with God. Or Disney.

Favorite song: "Tracks of My Tears," Adam Lambert. Yeah, yeah. I know. An American Idol contestant. But he's so much better than the other contestants! And it's a great version! And it's a Motown classic! And...uh... Well, dang. I can't defend it. At least it's not Megan Joy Corkrey. Runner-up: "Crack the Shutters," Snow Patrol.

Least favorite song: "Right Round" Flo Rida, just because you can remake a song, doesn't mean you should. I'm still trying to forgive you for ruining rap with "In the Ayer" and "Low," which made baby Biggie Smalls cry.

Favorite album: Nothing this month. What was yours?

Best TV Show: "Make Me a Supermodel" Yes, I blog about America's Next Top Model-- made all the better now that I get to interview contestants-- but in terms of a quality supermodel competition, the Bravo version is better, hands down. They've got girls and guys competing, they emphasize the runway more, there's the added element of sexual tension, there's no Tyra Banks and they do Go-Sees every episode. Runner-up: The Wire and Big Love, both of which I watch as much as I can. Inner city crime and polygamous marriages really get my blood pumping.

Worst TV show: "Rachael Ray" This is on all the time at work, on mute, and yet she still irritates me. How is that possible? Runner-up: I rarely do this, but I'm still upset with Making the Band. Q is going off the deep end and Danity Kane is still broken up. I wish I could quit you, Making the Band. I wish I could.

Best idea: Starting tomorrow, I'm debuting a week-long "As Seen On TV" series, complete with products reviews, demonstrations and possible a lot of CAPS LOCK TYPING TO EMPHASIZE EXCITEMENT. Please check it out. It'll only cost $19.95 plus shipping.

Best moments: Moving into my new apartment, which soon will be "our" new apartment with Capricorn. Even better, it meant a weekend with my family around and people helping me clean stuff. Runner up: Celebrating six months with Capricorn, who, for six months, has indulged in my need to chronicle our relationship online.

Worst moments: Finding out my brother's lung collapsed like the Berlin Wall (For those of you too young to get that cultural refence, then "collapsed like a Hillary presidential bid." For those too old, then "collapsed like the Roman Empire.") He came out OK, though. Runner-up: Finding out that same week that I have to take a weeklong, unpaid vacation.

Worst decision: Being absent-minded and not double-checking my lease before I decided to move; I had to pay some extra rent for not giving enough notice. Capricorn will be handling the joint finances, if you can't tell already.

Favorite Blog Entry by Me: Man, there weren't as many blog entries as usual in March, a month that essentially made me its bitch. But I do remember all the hours I put into doing Play by Plays of "The Bachelor" finale, which turned into a marathon blogging event.

Favorite Blog Entry by Someone Else: The very entertaining TishTash let it rip in this post about her "TurboAnger," which made her less than cordial with co-workers. Sample: "Anxious Co-Worker: I slept with Hot Guy In IT last weekend and now I just feel really uncomfortable. Me: That's just the herp he gave you talking. Go walk it off."

Blogger of the Month (new category): I felt a new category was needed. After spending the last two months not being able to keep up with everybody as much as I'd like, it made me appreciate all of you that much more. So, the inaugural blogger of the month (you get a button) is... Racquel Valencia (aka Aine Caitriona) In one month, Racquel wrote about everything from Jeopardy to tampons, and her wordplay makes my wordplay touch itself at night. She also started a Dear Diary Fridays, which deftly breaks the rules of blogging by not being written on a computer.

To discuss a Weekend Update, midweek/moving version

Can I do a Weekend Update on a Wednesday?
Sure I can!
I've been off since last Friday. Before you give me the "Oh, thanks for rubbing it in my work-soaked face," let me say that one of those off days was an unpaid, furlough day. So stick that in your judgment pipe and smoke it. Actually, don't. Smoking kills.
Here's the rundown of happenings in the past few days, including my move:

• You will never get too old to be happy your parents pay for stuff. It doesn't happen often anymore- which is the way it should be- but there is a certain joy to go to a restaurant and have your dad reach into his wallet and say, "I've got this one." It's good that happened this weekend, too. Otherwise, it would have been an awkward pause, ending with my dad intermittently staring at the bill and at me, then me saying, "So... How about that bill, eh? Think we can make it to the parking lot before they notice?"
• This weekend brought out my inner freak. No, not that. I'm low on syrup and I don't own a cat. The other thing- electronics. I spent an afternoon hooking up all my gadgets, because at some point in life, I thought it'd be a good idea to take an interest in buying multiple electronics that make it increasingly difficult for me to perform the simple task of watching television. The back of my TV stand looks like an audio visual cemetery, with wires strewn haphazardly in their final resting place until my next move. I claim to know how all the wires work, but that's a farce. I also claim to know how to drive a stick, but if I tried it on your car it'd sound like I'm making love to your grandmother with a monkey wrench and a cane.
• Capricorn is an orderly, neat person. So I gave her free reign to put everything in the apartment exactly where she thinks it should go. I hope one day she shows me where she put everything.
  
• The process of moving brings to life the trivial objects in your life that on any other day you could give three sheets to the wind about. I spent multiple minutes talking about Lazy Susans, light bulbs, disinfectant, picture hangars and bed sheets. I imagine this is what hell is like, except you never actually move- you just talk about things you'll need for when you move. And, Britney Spears will shave your head. With a rusty blade. Oh my God, y'all!
• I am already scoping out the neighbors. No, not for hot chicks- I'm already dating the hottest girl anyway. I'm scoping them out so I can more easily categorize them into stereotypes: The Thumper (Neighbor who walks like an elephant and is always heard through the wall), the Screamer (Always arguing with boyfriend/girlfriend), the Inconsiderate Prick (Never picks up after dog, takes up two spaces, hates kittens and Jesus), etc. Introspective moment: What neighbor would you be? Racquel, you wouldn't be that neighbor who has crazy loud sex or has drunken tirades, would you?
• New neighborhood means Bailey has to re-mark everything. After a long walk yesterday, this complex is officially his bitch. I wish people could mark an area the way dogs could. Some new dude comes in to interview for my job, I mark the front door and growl. I also might hump his leg.
• I now have a blog room (though I'm still putting things away). In what others might call a den or office, I have made the second bedroom into a little blog zen place, with a TV, recliner and tray table for easy blogging. Capricorn thinks it's a great idea, although that might be because she can watch oversized family shows like "17 and Counting" on the big TV while I'm huddled away like a blogging J.D. Salinger for a few hours.

To discuss things I hate about moving, plus Where's Bailey?

Minus a few boxes, my move is done.
That should mean I can get back to blogging regularly, and boy, do I have some good stuff for you.

But first, let's play a game called, "Where's Bailey?"Can you find the chiweenie in this photo taken during Moving Weekend 2009?

Yes, Bailey, in a secretive, Anne Frank-esque move minus the murderous Nazis and plus the fur, has taken occupancy of a studio apartment-- the bottom shelf of my bookcase. He has yet to pay rent, however.

In fact, he owes me $300. That's how much it cost for the pet deposit. In the first of what will likely be a series of blog posts about moving, here's my 5 Things I Hate About Moving:

1. Pet policies: 75 percent of renters don't allow pets, and the other 25 percent allow pets, but only after cash-raping you with a deposit and a series of forms to prove your dog doesn't have rabies/won't attack children/won't hump your leg. What's wrong with a little dog-humping? Beggars can't be choosers.
   
2. Address change: You have to notify every single company you deal with of your new address, let alone the Postal Service. It's at this point that you realize how antiquated mail delivery is, and yet how much of a thrill you get when you have actual mail. I notified all the companies, making it much easier for them to send me bills and other sources of tears. I also got new subscriptions to Maxim and to Cosmo. Capricorn: "You got the subscription to Cosmo in your name?" Me: "Yes. It's for business purposes. It's not weird. Um, right?"
3. Packing: It is always at this point that you think, "My God! How did I accumulate all this stuff? I've got an entire moving box full of pens and notebook paper! Where did all these knick-knacks come from? How long has that drifter lived beneath my sink?" Every time I move, I capriciously throw away or donate as much as possible. And yet, I never seem to have fewer things. More than once during a move, I have sworn I'd become a monk and throw away everything except the most essential items. That never works, though, as "essential" on my list includes Tivo, a laptop, a couch, a Shamwow*, etc.
4. Learning the New Area: At least this time, I was only moving across town. But normally, this involves starting from scratch and finding the local grocery store/gas station/dope smuggler, and that can be time-consuming. It's a lot of trial-and-error to find the good ones. You have to figure out which Chinese restaurants have good sweet-and-sour chicken, and which ones have an unusual relationship with the animal shelter.
   
5. Hanging up things: I hate hanging up things on the wall, but I love having things on the wall. So I'll bang in a couple nails, and discover the frame is crooked. Then I re-bang the nails, and after thirty minutes of banging, all I have is a crooked frame and syphilis. Plus, you have to get the little frame hang-y thingies to latch on to the nails. I'd have better luck getting Lindsay Lohan an Oscar for "I Know Who Killed Me." Until God grants my request for X-Ray vision, hanging things on little hooks will always be a headache.**

* I didn't forget about my promise to review Shamwow. In fact, I've got something special cooked up, Made for TV style, as soon as I get the chance to write it.
** God won't grant it because He knows I'd only use it to see through girls' clothing. You got me, Jesus, you got me.

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Bailey's in the bottom right, if you haven't him by now. And, if that's true that you haven't found him by now, please cut up your driver's license. Thanks.

To discuss some news, a question and an answer

Did you know it's Valentine's Day tomorrow? Just checking. Apparently, it's a big deal. I've got some romantic things planned for Capricorn, none of which I pulled from Cosmo ideas, as that would end in me talking about my childhood and her worrying where to find my "secret pleasure spots."
But this isn't a Valentine's post. That might come later. As a guy in a blossoming, wonderful relationship, I'd rather let the bitter single bloggers have their turn first-- they deserve the stage.
This is more of an update on what's going on lately for me, as I've had minimal posts of that sort and maximum posts on Brody Jenner and JoBros. There's a question at the end I'd like you to answer, too.

• I started my new work blog, and, for some reason, my bosses have let me get away with much of the Tom Foolery I get away with on this blog. I didn't know I could talk about implants on a newspaper blog, but I can! And they say newspapers are dead.
  
• I'm moving. Capricorn and I spent the past few weekends browsing rentals and visiting places, looking for one with a washer/dryer, central air, a dishwasher, a butler, a slip-n-slide and a chocolate fountain. We were successful on some of those counts with a place that is a nice step up from where I'm living now. I plan on singing "Movin' On Up" Jefferson-style the entire day of the move. The hardest part of the search was finding a pet-friendly place, as evidently landlords are afraid of this 10-pound chiweenie.
• If you put two and two together on the last item, yes, Capricorn and I are moving in together, although not immediately- she's coming later this year. There are many benefits to this that I'll detail down the road, but the first that comes to mind is that I can have Cosmo sent directly to my house and not feel the need to say it's for "research."
• In my fervent effort to not get laid off because of the recession, I'm doing new projects at work to give the air of "Hey, he must know what he's doing." That's contributed to long days, although the resulting projects do somehow look like they are done by someone who knows what he's doing. In related news, Tom Brokaw is now my intern and in charge of said projects.
  

This all brings me the question. I've felt terrible about not keeping up with blog reading in recent weeks, let alone making sure I post frequently. At the height, I was reading 40-50 blogs a day. I promise to get back to commenting as soon as I can- I appreciate those of you who comment on mine anyway, perhaps out of pity, not unlike those who attended my birthday parties as an adult child.
So, how many blogs do you read in a day? Comment and participate in the poll, if you wish.
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And the answer for the last poll is..... Christopher Walken! Capricorn thinks he's sexy. I'm now questioning my desire to live with her. I'm also wondering how in the world most of you guessed that correctly. Am I missing something about his sex appeal? Does it have something to do with cow bells?