Hello, boys.

You know that scene where they get back from Europe, and Rory is hugging the contents of her closet because she missed them so much?

I got two bookshelves from Craigslist today and unpacked the rest of my books, and that's how I felt.

It made me sad, having to leave my books in boxes for two months straight. They're all out now. I'm happy. I'll be even happier once I start rearranging books into the order that only makes sense to me, like I always do.

The Rubens, The Clays, The Clarksons

I recently found out that for season 10 of American Idol, I can audition in the comfort of my own home! I don't have to drive anywhere, or stand in any ridiculous line. Baruch hashem! (for those of you who don't understand, it means "Thank God" in Hebrew. If I could figure out how to actually write that in Hebrew, I would, but alas. I don't know how.)

It's really good I don't have to drive anywhere, because when I lived in Utah, and was literally, on the road to Salt Lake to audition, my transmission dropped. That can't happen this time. No car problems, or anxiously waiting in some absurd line, can deter me! "As Devo says, when a problem comes along you must whip it, as long as you whip it with a whipomatic." I got this.

My life with the Banger sisters

This morning, I glanced at our little blogger dashboard and saw that we have one follower. I gasped and went "Yaaay!" And then I thought, "I bet it's Julie."

It is. Hi Julie. Have a nice weekend. Kiss the baby for me.

There's a lake?

I do indeed get the reference. And I'm still standing by my decision not to name our cat Paul Anka. I told you we decided to name her Bagheera, right? Or did I just let Plurk tell you for me? Either way, we named her Bagheera, and we think she may actually be a better cat than Charlie. Don't tell Kara. Wait, she probably reads this, doesn't she?

Ok. So first, I have to address the Glee thing. I'm totally with you on being glad show choir wasn't like that when we were in high school. I was the single biggest choir nerd in Choraliers by my senior year. I'd have no clean clothes left. I actually think about that nearly every time they say something about how the glee kids are on the bottom of the high school food chain. I mean, neither of us was voted homecoming queen, but I much appreciate the great lack of slushies.

On a completely unrelated tangent, Juno is on right now, and I love the part where Allison Janney says that doctors are evil sadists who love to watch the lesser people scream. Almost as much as that one line in 10 Things I Hate About You that we like so much. I'm not quoting it, since I assume you already know which line I mean.

Next topic: your dream was indeed cracked out. And sorry, buddy, but I got nothing. Did you eat something weird before you went to bed? Watch weird movies? I dunno. Maybe you should start playing hockey. Maybe you'd have an undiscovered talent, and your subconscious is trying to tell you. And was The Office new last night? I missed it. I went to yoga, and then we went out to for dinner. We went to a diner. It was not like Luke's.

On yet another unrelated tangent, I set up google analytics for this blog, because I'm an obsessed blogger like that, and we have so far had eight visits to this blog. I can't help but wonder how many of them are your sisters.

The Real Paul Anka

So, the other night, I had this bizarre, cracked out dream, and I'm not sure what to make of it. Kat, maybe you can explain your thoughts on this.

In this dream, there's me, my little sister, a random woman from church, and Betty White. Yes, I said Betty White. First off, just the fact that the random woman from church and Betty White were in my dream made me wake up thinking, what kind of odd combination of people is that?

So now onto what happened in the dream. The four of us, along with a throng of others, were on a hockey team. Now, can you imagine Betty White playing hockey? It's like that random snickers commercial where there's Betty White playing football. It's just not rational.

Back to the point. It turns out, that our hockey team is actually pretty good. We're playing these big NHL teams, and beating them. Then we come to discover why we keep winning. It's because Betty White has a magic wand and is putting curses on the other teams before we go out and play, so all she has to do is touch them, and they fall to the ice in pain.

I woke up very confused. I'm not athletic, at all, so why am I suddenly having a dream about playing hockey? And seriously, why is Betty White in it? It's not like I've been watching "The Golden Girls" or anything. But somehow, there she was in my subconscious.

On a side note, last nights episode of The Office cracked me up. Creed was talking about Michael's nephew bad mouthing them on Twitter, and Jim questions Creed following the nephew on twitter, to which Creed says in an interview "Everywhere I look it's Betty White this and Betty White that. Finally a kid who's not talking about Betty White. Of course I follow him." Maybe if I'd had this dream after I'd watched The Office, Betty White would have made more sense. But since the dream happened before that episode, it is still a mystery.

P.S. If anyone, besides Kat, can explain the reference, I'll give you five bucks!

Paris, Rory . . . bedwetter

Oh innocent reader, you have no idea what you have stumbled upon. We're thrilled to have you here! Although, contrary to what my counterpart said, you might be cooler than Amy Sherman Palladino, you're definitely not cooler than Janis from the Muppets. I mean, come on, she's the only girl in Electric Mayhem! You can't top that.

Kat and I really do understand the Gilmore Girls on a much deeper level than you. We're not merely fans, it's more of an addiction, some might say akin to a sickness. But if enjoying the wit that comes from Lorelai, Rory and pals is a sickness, then I don't want to get better. And just because the show ended years ago, doesn't mean that I watch it any less. That's what DVD's are for!

So, Kat, speaking of what we now watch obsessively, you realize that if we'd gone to a high school where slushies in the face were routinely given to dorky choir kids, we would have been recipients of those many times. What, with the show choir rehersals, and prepping for solo and ensemble, all state, etc. We would have had to wear rain coats for protection.

Reader, enjoy the madness that is to come!

Rory Gilmore sex boat

Hello world! Prepare to have no idea what we’re talking about most of the time.

You have now stumbled upon the blog between myself (Kat) and my best friend (Neaves). We secretly hope that you found this blog by googling “Rory Gilmore sex boat,” and if you actually get that reference, you’re way ahead of the game. If you actually DID find us by googling that, you’re our new favorite person in the whole world. You’re even better than Amy Sherman Palladino, or Janis from the Muppets.

You should also know that this is probably the last time either of us will address you, the reader, except maybe in passing. If you're lucky.

We've been talking about starting this blog for ages. Possibly years. We have nothing important to talk about. But we're in different states, and we can't spend all our time on the phone. If nothing else, we have jobs. Plus, we'd have to stop to watch Glee. It's what we watch obsessively now, since we don't have Gilmore Girls anymore.

We're not kidding when we say we understand Gilmore Girls on a much deeper level than you. We're deeply obsessed. I'm sure we could carry on entire conversations solely in quotes, and frankly, I'm surprised we haven't actually done so yet. We play a game sometimes where one of us says a quote, and the other has to name the episode. It's a good game. Except for our friends and family, who have to listen to it.

So instead of inflicting it upon them, we'll inflict it on you, world. Enjoy.