So let me tell you why I have the best roommate ever. First of all, she ordered the phone and the Internets, probably after figuring out that if I was in charge of it I would procrastinate and not order it until December or something IF SHE WAS LUCKY. Thanks to her, we will soon have the power of DSL, meaning we can stay online ALL THE TIME which is exactly what God and Mother Nature intended.
Also? Since her birthday was Tuesday and mine is today, we've accumulated quite a few sugary treats, which is why last night the majority of our dinner consisted of cheesecake and cupcakes. That is why being an adult is awesome . . . you can make salsa and chips your appetizer, chocolate cheesecake your entree, and a cupcake your dessert and when you feel like vomiting all over the floor later you have only yourself to blame.
And finally, her birthday present to me? FIRST OF ALL, she got me the Walk the Line soundtrack AND some pretty sweet pants from Target (aka the love of my life). But best of all, she got me a Dora the Explorer action figure, complete with purple backpack and tiny, brown dog. So now I can walk around with it, shove it in people's faces and say, "Hola! Me llamo Dora! Como esta? Ayudame! Tengo un gato en mis pantalones!" and the like. Gracias, amiga.
Also, she watches The Office with me and laughs at all the right parts. What more could you ask for in a roommate?
Friday, April 28, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
If you can prove that diversity will help my sales, well then I'll go elephant riding with James Earl Jones
Dear Lady with the Gold Tooth Who Knocked on our Door and Tried To Sell Me Magazines So You Could Get Your "Second Chance" at Life,
While I applaud you trying to turn your life around, don't for one second think that asking me if I modeled my haircut after Dora the Explorer is going to make me want to buy your magazines.
SERIOUSLY? Dora the Explorer? Really?
Sincerely,
Dora, I mean Jennie
PS: Stop calling me "girlfriend."
While I applaud you trying to turn your life around, don't for one second think that asking me if I modeled my haircut after Dora the Explorer is going to make me want to buy your magazines.
SERIOUSLY? Dora the Explorer? Really?
Sincerely,
Dora, I mean Jennie
PS: Stop calling me "girlfriend."
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Nobody likes beets, Dwight. You should grow something everybody does like. You should grow candy.
Phase two of the move is now complete. We unpacked the truck into the new apartment (all the way up a million stairs, ok, not really, just like 10 or 12, but it felt like a million, especially to the people carrying the washing machine) on Saturday morning. The weather was perfect, sunny and breezy and blue-skied, because I think Jesus was trying to make up for raining all over my stuff on Friday night. Thanks, Jesus.
We've now moved onto Phase Slowly Unpack All the Boxes and Then Maybe Hang Up Some Pictures In Between Viewings of The Office oh and also Desperate Housewives Episodes. This phase could last a while. We're supposed to have visitors this weekend, because today is The Roommate's birthday and Friday is my birthday so there will be celebration ALL OVER THE LAND or maybe just in Dayton. Although, now that I think about it, I don't think anyone will be sleeping in the apartment because we've made plans to sleep elsewhere both nights. So really we just have to find enough room in the closets to shove all of the stuff we don't want to deal with until later. Awesome.
I think my brain is broken. I'm having a very difficult time concentrating on anything. I don't know if it's because the weather has gotten nicer or because I have killed all the brain cells that are required to make my brain function normally or because I am super excited about this weekend. Seriously, whenever I start to think about it I start to hyperventilate a little and then I have to sit down and put my head between my knees because IF I DON'T I might get so excited that I pee a little. And that is not attractive, in case you were wondering.
Why is it that my brain insists on focusing on things I'd rather not think about? I keep having these moments where I'm pretty sure I'm just staring off into space, thinking about these certain things, and events that have happened or might happen, and what to do/say if these certain things should happen and then I realize that I've just spent the last ten minutes staring glazed-eyed at a lightswitch or something and I literally have to shake my head to get myself out of the daydream. Seriously. Wake up, brain, and stop messing with my head.
We've now moved onto Phase Slowly Unpack All the Boxes and Then Maybe Hang Up Some Pictures In Between Viewings of The Office oh and also Desperate Housewives Episodes. This phase could last a while. We're supposed to have visitors this weekend, because today is The Roommate's birthday and Friday is my birthday so there will be celebration ALL OVER THE LAND or maybe just in Dayton. Although, now that I think about it, I don't think anyone will be sleeping in the apartment because we've made plans to sleep elsewhere both nights. So really we just have to find enough room in the closets to shove all of the stuff we don't want to deal with until later. Awesome.
I think my brain is broken. I'm having a very difficult time concentrating on anything. I don't know if it's because the weather has gotten nicer or because I have killed all the brain cells that are required to make my brain function normally or because I am super excited about this weekend. Seriously, whenever I start to think about it I start to hyperventilate a little and then I have to sit down and put my head between my knees because IF I DON'T I might get so excited that I pee a little. And that is not attractive, in case you were wondering.
Why is it that my brain insists on focusing on things I'd rather not think about? I keep having these moments where I'm pretty sure I'm just staring off into space, thinking about these certain things, and events that have happened or might happen, and what to do/say if these certain things should happen and then I realize that I've just spent the last ten minutes staring glazed-eyed at a lightswitch or something and I literally have to shake my head to get myself out of the daydream. Seriously. Wake up, brain, and stop messing with my head.
Friday, April 21, 2006
On the streets we didn't have any rules. Maybe one. No kicks to the groin, home for dinner.
Ok, so Phase One of the move is complete. Almost everything I own is now sitting outside in a U-Haul in my parent's driveway. So don't steal it, OK? Because I like my stuff. Also I would cry and you don't want me to cry, do you?
I am taking advantage of my parent's high speed internet while I have the chance because after tomorrow . . . I will only be able to check my e-mail at work. And I'm really not supposed to be doing that. I think last time I moved I made it about a week and a half before I broke down and ordered the Internets so we'll see how long I make it this time. I have a roommate who can entertain me so I think I might make it a little longer. WE'LL SEE.
The weather tomorrow better be freaking spectacular because today? While we were loading the truck? It was pissing rain the entire time. Oh, but it mostly stopped by the time we were done, so that was nice.
Today, before the moving truck arrived, I took Phoebe to my parent's house. First of all, she did not want to get in her cat carrier and I was afraid to shove her too hard in case I broke her or something. So, I did what any responsible pet owner would do. I got her high on catnip, waited until she was relaxed and vulnerable and then I ambushed her. You guys, I totally date raped my cat. I mean. In theory. I don't know. She is traumatized forever, though. Then, while we were in the car and I was babbling into my friend's voicemail and Phoebe was meowing meowing EVERMORE I realized I had forgotten the bag with Phoebe's food and treats, i.e. THE MOST IMPORTANT BAG OF ALL. So I turned around and when I pulled into the parking lot, what do I see? The bag, sitting next to the parking spot I had vacated minutes before. I am so special sometimes.
Once I had her at my parent's house, I let her out and eventually she started exploring. Unfortunately, Ripley (The Dog) saw her and chased her blah blah blah Phoebe hid under my parent's bed. She was still there hours and hours later when we got back from loading the truck, so my dad and I spent a loooooong time trying to coax her out from under the bed. Well, I tried coaxing her with treats and he poked her with a pole. I'm still not quite sure where that came from. Eventually, she got tired of being poked in the nether regions so she wandered close enough to me and I grabbed her and she clawed me and her tail got as big as my face and sometimes I feel like I live in a cartoon.
The end.
I am taking advantage of my parent's high speed internet while I have the chance because after tomorrow . . . I will only be able to check my e-mail at work. And I'm really not supposed to be doing that. I think last time I moved I made it about a week and a half before I broke down and ordered the Internets so we'll see how long I make it this time. I have a roommate who can entertain me so I think I might make it a little longer. WE'LL SEE.
The weather tomorrow better be freaking spectacular because today? While we were loading the truck? It was pissing rain the entire time. Oh, but it mostly stopped by the time we were done, so that was nice.
Today, before the moving truck arrived, I took Phoebe to my parent's house. First of all, she did not want to get in her cat carrier and I was afraid to shove her too hard in case I broke her or something. So, I did what any responsible pet owner would do. I got her high on catnip, waited until she was relaxed and vulnerable and then I ambushed her. You guys, I totally date raped my cat. I mean. In theory. I don't know. She is traumatized forever, though. Then, while we were in the car and I was babbling into my friend's voicemail and Phoebe was meowing meowing EVERMORE I realized I had forgotten the bag with Phoebe's food and treats, i.e. THE MOST IMPORTANT BAG OF ALL. So I turned around and when I pulled into the parking lot, what do I see? The bag, sitting next to the parking spot I had vacated minutes before. I am so special sometimes.
Once I had her at my parent's house, I let her out and eventually she started exploring. Unfortunately, Ripley (The Dog) saw her and chased her blah blah blah Phoebe hid under my parent's bed. She was still there hours and hours later when we got back from loading the truck, so my dad and I spent a loooooong time trying to coax her out from under the bed. Well, I tried coaxing her with treats and he poked her with a pole. I'm still not quite sure where that came from. Eventually, she got tired of being poked in the nether regions so she wandered close enough to me and I grabbed her and she clawed me and her tail got as big as my face and sometimes I feel like I live in a cartoon.
The end.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Do you want us to run aground, woman?!*
I'm moving tomorrow! Or, rather, the move starts tomorrow, takes an overnight detour at my parent's house, and then ends sometime Saturday afternoon. I ended up taking tomorrow off of work because I realized that the hour or so between work and picking up the moving truck would not be enough time to do all the little things that never seem to take very long until you do them all at once. Did that make any sense? I don't care. Have I mentioned I haven't really been sleeping? For a fun and interesting change, I've been lying awake for a couple hours before I drift into a crazy, dream-filled world of tense, anxious sleep where I wake up every hour and then start worrying about the fact that I'M NOT ASLEEP OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO BE SO TIRED TOMORROW! Um. Yeah. It's not relaxing, really.
Oooookay. I'm having a hard time turning the computer off, because once I do, I'm unplugging it and packing all of the little pieces away and so soon it will be a very large paperweight or piece of modern art or whatever, and then I won't have the power of the Internets FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG. Oh god, I'm starting to hyperventilate a little just thinking about not having easy access (haha, easy access) to my e-mail.
Obviously, I am starting (starting?) to go Crazy McLocobeans so I'm really glad the move is soon because I'm fairly certain that it's responsible for my lunacy. Well. My current lunacy, anyway. I can't blame all my crazy on it. Besides, once the move is complete I can focus on the really important things.
You know, like finding a mechanical bull before my birthday. Priorities, people.
*Sooner or later I will run out of these . . . but not for a long, long, time, mwaahaahaa
Oooookay. I'm having a hard time turning the computer off, because once I do, I'm unplugging it and packing all of the little pieces away and so soon it will be a very large paperweight or piece of modern art or whatever, and then I won't have the power of the Internets FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG. Oh god, I'm starting to hyperventilate a little just thinking about not having easy access (haha, easy access) to my e-mail.
Obviously, I am starting (starting?) to go Crazy McLocobeans so I'm really glad the move is soon because I'm fairly certain that it's responsible for my lunacy. Well. My current lunacy, anyway. I can't blame all my crazy on it. Besides, once the move is complete I can focus on the really important things.
You know, like finding a mechanical bull before my birthday. Priorities, people.
*Sooner or later I will run out of these . . . but not for a long, long, time, mwaahaahaa
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
The deal is, this is kind of my last hurrah, because I made a New Year's Resolution that I'm not going to drink anymore . . . during the week.
I'm serious about The Office quotes, people. I'm going to keep titling my entries with them until . . . um, I don't know. Until my dad admits that The Office is awesome! So, yeah. Prepare to have them around for a long, loooooong time.
The countdown to the move is infiltrating everything I do. Two more nights of sleeping in my apartment. Two more showers. Two more dinners (if you call a turkey sandwich and a container of yogurt dinner, that is). Two more pots of coffee. One episode of Alias. One rerun of The Office (shut up). Four Phoebe-feedings. Five more drives to and from work. No more drinks.
Best of all? Only two more nights of sleeping with the windows closed. Two more nights of obsessively checking the locks on the front and patio doors. I'm so glad the new apartment is on the second floor and I can sleep with the windows open. I love sleeping with the windows open. Also, that means we have a balcony and balconies are fun to throw stuff off of. Not that I would ever condone that sort of behavior. Besides, you really need to be on a very high floor to make throwing things out of the window interesting. Say you're throwing Peeps out the window at innocent passersby, or unrolling a roll of toilet paper to see if it'll make it to the ground . . . the 10th floor of your dorm is really the lowest you want to be. Again. Not that I condone (or have ever been a part of OR have ever been the instigator of) that sort of behavior. Hee.
This week is going veeeeeeeery slowly and I'm sure it's because I'm sick of having all of my stuff tucked away from me inside of boxes I forgot to label. I was not thinking (me?) and packed all of my books and most of my DVDs so, besides cleaning and packing, I don't have much to entertain myself. Luckily, I have some (overdue) books from the library so I'm not completely without reading material. Which is good because when I'm without reading material, little pieces of my brain explode out of my ears and, aside from not being very pleasant or pretty, there aren't many pieces of my brain left after all the hard drinking that I can afford to lose.
Yeah. That seems like as good a place as any to end this.
The countdown to the move is infiltrating everything I do. Two more nights of sleeping in my apartment. Two more showers. Two more dinners (if you call a turkey sandwich and a container of yogurt dinner, that is). Two more pots of coffee. One episode of Alias. One rerun of The Office (shut up). Four Phoebe-feedings. Five more drives to and from work. No more drinks.
Best of all? Only two more nights of sleeping with the windows closed. Two more nights of obsessively checking the locks on the front and patio doors. I'm so glad the new apartment is on the second floor and I can sleep with the windows open. I love sleeping with the windows open. Also, that means we have a balcony and balconies are fun to throw stuff off of. Not that I would ever condone that sort of behavior. Besides, you really need to be on a very high floor to make throwing things out of the window interesting. Say you're throwing Peeps out the window at innocent passersby, or unrolling a roll of toilet paper to see if it'll make it to the ground . . . the 10th floor of your dorm is really the lowest you want to be. Again. Not that I condone (or have ever been a part of OR have ever been the instigator of) that sort of behavior. Hee.
This week is going veeeeeeeery slowly and I'm sure it's because I'm sick of having all of my stuff tucked away from me inside of boxes I forgot to label. I was not thinking (me?) and packed all of my books and most of my DVDs so, besides cleaning and packing, I don't have much to entertain myself. Luckily, I have some (overdue) books from the library so I'm not completely without reading material. Which is good because when I'm without reading material, little pieces of my brain explode out of my ears and, aside from not being very pleasant or pretty, there aren't many pieces of my brain left after all the hard drinking that I can afford to lose.
Yeah. That seems like as good a place as any to end this.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Of course martial arts training is relevant. Uh excuse me, I know about a billion Asians who would beg to differ!
Ok, I know I'm kind of distracted with the upcoming move and all, but this morning I walked out of my apartment without my glasses and didn't notice until I was pulling out of the parking lot thinking, "why is everything so blurry today?" Maybe you're thinking that I usually wear my contacts and THAT'S why I forgot my glasses, but you're wrong. Sorry. I put my glasses on, go to work, take them off and then put them back on when it's time to leave. This morning I was just, I don't know, more retarded than usual.
You know, I really can't understand how my parents and I have such differing views on important things. I'm not talking about politics this time, although SPEAKING of politics, last night I had a dream that GWB called me and told me he'd been reading my blog and wanted to come talk to me. So we were supposed to meet at Target (?) and I totally stood him up.
The word you're looking for is . . . ANYWAY. Politics aside, my parents and I also have very different views about TELEVISION (obviously, way more important than politics). Namely, what we think is funny. They hate my favorite shows. The Office. Scrubs. Arrested Development (blasphemy). Instead, they watch Freddie. According to Jim. Two and a Half Men. KING OF QUEENS. Shows I would rather blow my brains out than watch. I'm not exaggerating. Have you seen any of Freddie? Blowing my brains out is a welcome alternative to watching Freddie Prinze, Jr. try to be funny.
I know I'm taking it too seriously. I take personal offense when someone says they don't like The Office. I REALLY DO. Because, hello! It is hilarious.
Ok. I guess I can see why someone might not like a show like Scrubs or The Office. I mean, there's no one telling you when it's time to laugh! Oh no! I can see how that would be confusing after so many years of laugh-track conditioning.
Or, maybe I'm just a TV snob (most likely). But I'm OK with that.
Wow. This was like the laziest post ever. Blah, blah, my life is boring. Dr. McDreamy. Oh, did anyone watch that new What about Brian show? I was all set to hate it, because it was on during Grey's Anatomy time on Sunday (talk about blasphemy) and because it stars that douchebag from 7th Heaven (the douchiest show ever made), but I watched it and actually thought it wasn't bad. That doesn't mean I'm going to start watching According to Jim, though, so just stop that train of thought RIGHT THERE.
You know, I really can't understand how my parents and I have such differing views on important things. I'm not talking about politics this time, although SPEAKING of politics, last night I had a dream that GWB called me and told me he'd been reading my blog and wanted to come talk to me. So we were supposed to meet at Target (?) and I totally stood him up.
The word you're looking for is . . . ANYWAY. Politics aside, my parents and I also have very different views about TELEVISION (obviously, way more important than politics). Namely, what we think is funny. They hate my favorite shows. The Office. Scrubs. Arrested Development (blasphemy). Instead, they watch Freddie. According to Jim. Two and a Half Men. KING OF QUEENS. Shows I would rather blow my brains out than watch. I'm not exaggerating. Have you seen any of Freddie? Blowing my brains out is a welcome alternative to watching Freddie Prinze, Jr. try to be funny.
I know I'm taking it too seriously. I take personal offense when someone says they don't like The Office. I REALLY DO. Because, hello! It is hilarious.
Ok. I guess I can see why someone might not like a show like Scrubs or The Office. I mean, there's no one telling you when it's time to laugh! Oh no! I can see how that would be confusing after so many years of laugh-track conditioning.
Or, maybe I'm just a TV snob (most likely). But I'm OK with that.
Wow. This was like the laziest post ever. Blah, blah, my life is boring. Dr. McDreamy. Oh, did anyone watch that new What about Brian show? I was all set to hate it, because it was on during Grey's Anatomy time on Sunday (talk about blasphemy) and because it stars that douchebag from 7th Heaven (the douchiest show ever made), but I watched it and actually thought it wasn't bad. That doesn't mean I'm going to start watching According to Jim, though, so just stop that train of thought RIGHT THERE.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
You can't fire me, I don't work in this van!
I think I'm going to try to start titling all of my entries with quotes from The Office. Not for any real reason. Just because I think they're funny and my main goal in life is to keep myself entertained so . . . there you have it. Also, if I start titling my entries with The Office quotes, it won't matter that the entire entry basically has nothing to do with the title or much of any point at all, really, anyway moving on.
I just realized that I completely wasted my last weekend of living on my own. I didn't bring any random guys home, or leave a chicken carcass in the bathtub, or set ANYTHING on fire. What a waste. OK, to be fair, I didn't do any of those things the whole time I lived here, except for the chicken carcass thing because, honestly, wtf are you supposed to do with a chicken carcass?
I was going to call my mom a little while ago to ask what time I should be home for dinner, but then I realized that they were all at church. Oops! This is the first time, like, ever that I haven't gone to church on Easter. My two days of church-going are usually Christmas Eve and Easter, but after years of babbling on and on about it being stupid to go to church two days a year blah blah hypocrite-pants, I finally listened to myself and stayed in bed this morning long after services started. It's nice and warm in hell, right? I hate snow. Anyway, I'm pretty excited about dinner, mostly because I'm trying not to go to the grocery until I move and I'm getting sick of eating turkey sandwiches. Not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, though. I could never get sick of those, but I thought it would be unhealthy to eat them for every meal so I've been trying to ration them. OH, speaking of peanut butter and jelly!! Is anyone else excited about the possibility of a Big Brother: All Stars season this summer? Do you like how my brain went from peanut butter to Big Brother? It makes sense if you think about it. Anyway, mostly it just excites me because it means my reality TV boyfriend Kaysar might be back. Oh, Kaysar. I would still have about 10,000 of your babies.
Guys, I'm so sick of packing. Luckily, last night I ran out of boxes so I had a good excuse to sit on the sofa and watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for, and I am not kidding you, the third time this weekend. I don't know what it is about that movie, but I could watch it over and over and oh wait, I totally did that yesterday.
I don't really need that many more boxes. Maybe two. I can't really pack anything else anyway, because I kind of need to use the rest of the stuff I didn't pack yet. I had a minor setback yesterday, when Tamara led me to this site and I spent about two hours unpacking the boxes of books (all five of them, sorry in advance to the people helping me move) and inputting ISBN numbers into the Library Thing system (that is my list of books, well, most of them . . . one box was too heavy for me to carry from the living room to my bedroom so it'll have to wait . . . again, sorry in advance to the people helping me move). Anyway, I'm sorry, but that is awesome. Online library. AWESOME. Nerd alert. I'm just glad I'm not the only person who would shoot books directly into her veins if it were possible. I think the only things keeping me sane throughout the packing process are my short (ok, hour-long) breaks to read About a Boy. Ok, and then watch the movie because, you know . . . Hugh Grant . . . yum.
I just realized that I completely wasted my last weekend of living on my own. I didn't bring any random guys home, or leave a chicken carcass in the bathtub, or set ANYTHING on fire. What a waste. OK, to be fair, I didn't do any of those things the whole time I lived here, except for the chicken carcass thing because, honestly, wtf are you supposed to do with a chicken carcass?
I was going to call my mom a little while ago to ask what time I should be home for dinner, but then I realized that they were all at church. Oops! This is the first time, like, ever that I haven't gone to church on Easter. My two days of church-going are usually Christmas Eve and Easter, but after years of babbling on and on about it being stupid to go to church two days a year blah blah hypocrite-pants, I finally listened to myself and stayed in bed this morning long after services started. It's nice and warm in hell, right? I hate snow. Anyway, I'm pretty excited about dinner, mostly because I'm trying not to go to the grocery until I move and I'm getting sick of eating turkey sandwiches. Not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, though. I could never get sick of those, but I thought it would be unhealthy to eat them for every meal so I've been trying to ration them. OH, speaking of peanut butter and jelly!! Is anyone else excited about the possibility of a Big Brother: All Stars season this summer? Do you like how my brain went from peanut butter to Big Brother? It makes sense if you think about it. Anyway, mostly it just excites me because it means my reality TV boyfriend Kaysar might be back. Oh, Kaysar. I would still have about 10,000 of your babies.
Guys, I'm so sick of packing. Luckily, last night I ran out of boxes so I had a good excuse to sit on the sofa and watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for, and I am not kidding you, the third time this weekend. I don't know what it is about that movie, but I could watch it over and over and oh wait, I totally did that yesterday.
I don't really need that many more boxes. Maybe two. I can't really pack anything else anyway, because I kind of need to use the rest of the stuff I didn't pack yet. I had a minor setback yesterday, when Tamara led me to this site and I spent about two hours unpacking the boxes of books (all five of them, sorry in advance to the people helping me move) and inputting ISBN numbers into the Library Thing system (that is my list of books, well, most of them . . . one box was too heavy for me to carry from the living room to my bedroom so it'll have to wait . . . again, sorry in advance to the people helping me move). Anyway, I'm sorry, but that is awesome. Online library. AWESOME. Nerd alert. I'm just glad I'm not the only person who would shoot books directly into her veins if it were possible. I think the only things keeping me sane throughout the packing process are my short (ok, hour-long) breaks to read About a Boy. Ok, and then watch the movie because, you know . . . Hugh Grant . . . yum.
Friday, April 14, 2006
I feel God in this Chili's tonight
How much do I love Pam and Jim? So much so that I have had to talk myself out of buying this shirt every day for the past two weeks. Add this to the amount of time I spend talking myself out of buying every shirt on this website (especially this one . . . and this one . . . OK, and this one, too*) and I haven't had much time for anything else. I love t-shirts, especially when they say something funny, and if I had my choice I wouldn't wear much else. Besides, you know, pants and stuff.
Also, this shirt is still available, in case anyone is interested. Hee. If you get one you can look just like me. In the shirtular area, anyway.
Sorry I've been all MIA and not very interesting lately. I'm moving next weekend, a move that, thanks to my current apartment complex, is turning out to be a total pain in the ass because they won't let me stay like . . . twelve more hours. Thank you, assholes, and no I will NOT be recommending you to my friends. Bastards.
I'm actually pretty proud of myself. See. I have this problem with leaving things til the last minute, a problem that does not get any better when I am reminded of it (DAD), but I think I've done pretty well so far. I spent the majority of the past two weeks going through all of the crap in my apartment and getting rid of a great deal of it AND I've started packing AND I have plenty of boxes AND I still have seven days (haha, can anyone else not say "7 days" without thinking of The Ring and then giggling? just me? ok, good) to finish packing and clean the apartment. I always hate that last day of living somewhere, when I inevitably discover that I have packed something I need, like my toothbrush or hairdryer or all of my underwear (true story).
Now, as some of you may remember, when I moved into this apartment I didn't get cable right away. Or internet. The internet thing didn't last very long, because when I have to go an entire weekend without checking my e-mail I kind of start to twitch. So I'm a little worried about not having any access after next Friday. The cable thing . . . well, I never really got around to getting cable and I can't say that I missed it. Except for The Daily Show. I did miss Jon Stewart. I mean, who wouldn't? Right now all of my republican relatives are shaking their heads and asking themselves where I came from because they? They do not GET the magnificence of Jon Stewart and for that I pity them. Hee.
This may sound like an odd question . . . but does anyone know of a bar in Dayton that has a mechanical bull? See, the plan on my birthday was to go to this one bar that I was told had one, but THEN I found out that they'd gotten rid of it. And now that I've promised everyone some mechanical bull action that weekend, I don't want to think of the consequences if I can't deliver. Oh, who am I kidding . . . I can take them to a karaoke bar and they will be just as satisfied. Now, if I could just find a bar with karaoke AND a mechanical bull, I think I could keep my friends here forever.
So, apparently it is some holy weekend or something? Hee. I completely forgot because I keep sliding further and further into heathenism, so much so that I'm not even going to get up early on Sunday and pretend to be a good little Lutheran by going to church on Easter.
*totally unrelated sidenote, but my birthday is coming up in, oh, exactly two weeks
PS: One person will get this, but I do not care. Elizabeth Bennet Dr. McDreamy Elizabeth Bennet Elizabeth Bennet McDreamy McDreamy McDreamy . . . am I still overusing these terms? Hee.
Also, this shirt is still available, in case anyone is interested. Hee. If you get one you can look just like me. In the shirtular area, anyway.
Sorry I've been all MIA and not very interesting lately. I'm moving next weekend, a move that, thanks to my current apartment complex, is turning out to be a total pain in the ass because they won't let me stay like . . . twelve more hours. Thank you, assholes, and no I will NOT be recommending you to my friends. Bastards.
I'm actually pretty proud of myself. See. I have this problem with leaving things til the last minute, a problem that does not get any better when I am reminded of it (DAD), but I think I've done pretty well so far. I spent the majority of the past two weeks going through all of the crap in my apartment and getting rid of a great deal of it AND I've started packing AND I have plenty of boxes AND I still have seven days (haha, can anyone else not say "7 days" without thinking of The Ring and then giggling? just me? ok, good) to finish packing and clean the apartment. I always hate that last day of living somewhere, when I inevitably discover that I have packed something I need, like my toothbrush or hairdryer or all of my underwear (true story).
Now, as some of you may remember, when I moved into this apartment I didn't get cable right away. Or internet. The internet thing didn't last very long, because when I have to go an entire weekend without checking my e-mail I kind of start to twitch. So I'm a little worried about not having any access after next Friday. The cable thing . . . well, I never really got around to getting cable and I can't say that I missed it. Except for The Daily Show. I did miss Jon Stewart. I mean, who wouldn't? Right now all of my republican relatives are shaking their heads and asking themselves where I came from because they? They do not GET the magnificence of Jon Stewart and for that I pity them. Hee.
This may sound like an odd question . . . but does anyone know of a bar in Dayton that has a mechanical bull? See, the plan on my birthday was to go to this one bar that I was told had one, but THEN I found out that they'd gotten rid of it. And now that I've promised everyone some mechanical bull action that weekend, I don't want to think of the consequences if I can't deliver. Oh, who am I kidding . . . I can take them to a karaoke bar and they will be just as satisfied. Now, if I could just find a bar with karaoke AND a mechanical bull, I think I could keep my friends here forever.
So, apparently it is some holy weekend or something? Hee. I completely forgot because I keep sliding further and further into heathenism, so much so that I'm not even going to get up early on Sunday and pretend to be a good little Lutheran by going to church on Easter.
*totally unrelated sidenote, but my birthday is coming up in, oh, exactly two weeks
PS: One person will get this, but I do not care. Elizabeth Bennet Dr. McDreamy Elizabeth Bennet Elizabeth Bennet McDreamy McDreamy McDreamy . . . am I still overusing these terms? Hee.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Saturday, April 08, 2006
I think I just took my obsession to the next level
Yesterday, my boss told me to leave work early because it was actually warm and SUNNY at the same time and if you lived in Ohio right now you'd understand just how special that is. I decided to take my first trip out to Cox Arboretum without stopping at home to change, even though it was a bit too warm for the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing, because I was already wearing jeans and sneakers.
Instead of just walking around the ponds and whatnot on the clean, dry gravel paths, I decided to explore the hiking trails, mainly because I wanted to go to the bird blind. To get to the bird blind, you have to take the path through the prairie (there are no little houses, though) or thicket or whatever you call it. Did I mention it has rained a lot the past week? I think you know where I'm going with this.
After walking for a bit, I noticed it was getting muddier and muddier. In some instances, I could walk around the mud pretty easily but eventually I got to a place where I'd have to walk directly through it.
Now, it's times like this that I ask myself . . . "what would Elizabeth Bennet do?" I'll tell you what she'd do; she'd walk her ass straight through that mud puddle with a big smile on her face, paying no matter to her pretty little petticoats, and that is just what I did. Minus the petticoat because I wasn't wearing one of those and I'm not sure I know exactly what that is.
You may think it's odd that I ask myself what Elizabeth Bennet would do in situations such as these, but I highly recommend it. It's the go to question for all sorts of problems. Ask it yourself the next time someone is mean to you at a party, or you have to dance with someone you can't stand, or your mother embarrasses you in public, or you are proposed to by a toady, little man, or when your sister runs off with a complete scoundrel.
Seriously. WWEBD? I'm making bracelets.
Instead of just walking around the ponds and whatnot on the clean, dry gravel paths, I decided to explore the hiking trails, mainly because I wanted to go to the bird blind. To get to the bird blind, you have to take the path through the prairie (there are no little houses, though) or thicket or whatever you call it. Did I mention it has rained a lot the past week? I think you know where I'm going with this.
After walking for a bit, I noticed it was getting muddier and muddier. In some instances, I could walk around the mud pretty easily but eventually I got to a place where I'd have to walk directly through it.
Now, it's times like this that I ask myself . . . "what would Elizabeth Bennet do?" I'll tell you what she'd do; she'd walk her ass straight through that mud puddle with a big smile on her face, paying no matter to her pretty little petticoats, and that is just what I did. Minus the petticoat because I wasn't wearing one of those and I'm not sure I know exactly what that is.
You may think it's odd that I ask myself what Elizabeth Bennet would do in situations such as these, but I highly recommend it. It's the go to question for all sorts of problems. Ask it yourself the next time someone is mean to you at a party, or you have to dance with someone you can't stand, or your mother embarrasses you in public, or you are proposed to by a toady, little man, or when your sister runs off with a complete scoundrel.
Seriously. WWEBD? I'm making bracelets.
Friday, April 07, 2006
my life could use more French guys, I think
Last night I had a dream about some French guy who robbed my dad's hardware store. My dad does not have a hardware store, although I imagine that he'd like to. Frenchie had a goatee and a red sweater and was shorter than I am, which is pretty short for a guy. I mean, I think even tiny, crazy Tom Cruise is taller than I am. By like an inch. Ha. You know why he's crazy? Everyone has some amount of crazy in them, but because he is so short his crazy is more concentrated. Also, something is wrong with his brain. Trust me. It's science.
Anyway. Since I'm moving in two weeks (eek!) last night when I got home from work I decided to pull all of the boxes out of the storage unit on my porch. Because last time I moved I was smart enough to keep all the boxes I'd used to move. Also, the storage unit was closer than the dumpster. Retrieving these boxes turned out to be a bigger ordeal than I'd thought it'd be. You know why? Because my storage unit is outside, it had become the home to several varieties of spiders, some dead but others that were really, really alive and spidery. So, armed with a broom, I proceeded to pull out the boxes one by one, sweeping off arachnids as they appeared. Luckily, I'm not afraid of spiders (only giant, killer crickets oh, and bats) so, while the ordeal was long and arduous, I was not permanately traumatized. And I feel my karma is still intact, because I didn't kill any of the spiders, I just brushed them off of the boxes into various corners of the storage unit. The next tenant can deal with them.
AND THEN I made an actual dinner. I marinated some chicken and then I cooked it and rice and vegetables and it was like a real meal! And I didn't set anything on fire! Or get salmonella! Of course, I didn't eat at the dining room table, instead I balanced the plate precariously on my knees while I watched a movie. It's a lot easier to balance a turkey sandwich and some pretzels than it is a plate full of chicken and rice. I'm hoping that once I have a roommate, the dining room table will be used for more than laundry and mail storage. I think it gets lonely.
Anyway. Since I'm moving in two weeks (eek!) last night when I got home from work I decided to pull all of the boxes out of the storage unit on my porch. Because last time I moved I was smart enough to keep all the boxes I'd used to move. Also, the storage unit was closer than the dumpster. Retrieving these boxes turned out to be a bigger ordeal than I'd thought it'd be. You know why? Because my storage unit is outside, it had become the home to several varieties of spiders, some dead but others that were really, really alive and spidery. So, armed with a broom, I proceeded to pull out the boxes one by one, sweeping off arachnids as they appeared. Luckily, I'm not afraid of spiders (only giant, killer crickets oh, and bats) so, while the ordeal was long and arduous, I was not permanately traumatized. And I feel my karma is still intact, because I didn't kill any of the spiders, I just brushed them off of the boxes into various corners of the storage unit. The next tenant can deal with them.
AND THEN I made an actual dinner. I marinated some chicken and then I cooked it and rice and vegetables and it was like a real meal! And I didn't set anything on fire! Or get salmonella! Of course, I didn't eat at the dining room table, instead I balanced the plate precariously on my knees while I watched a movie. It's a lot easier to balance a turkey sandwich and some pretzels than it is a plate full of chicken and rice. I'm hoping that once I have a roommate, the dining room table will be used for more than laundry and mail storage. I think it gets lonely.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
heh, Hurley said "doody"
Ok, I wasn't paying too much attention to The Amazing Race last night, because I was on the phone and also because I'm tired of watching The Quartet of Douchery trade first and second places back and forth, but did I catch Phil doing a little dance at the pit stop? If so, I'm sorry I wasn't paying more attention because I love when they let Phil show some personality instead of making him say "Blah and Bloo, you are team number one!" and so forth.
Also . . . Lost. Ok. I was starting to get really pissed off toward the middle of the episode, because I thought the big twist or reveal or whatever was just that Hurley's imaginary friend Dave wasn't real, which . . . DUH. And I was going to be really upset if I just sat through an hour of pointless retelling (we get it, Hurley was crazy and he likes food and as much as I like Hurley I am getting really, really tired of all the flashbacks) and that was the only payoff. I'm sorry, but if you didn't realize that Dave was imaginary before the doctor showed Hurley the picture he took I think I have earned the right to point at you and laugh. Ok? I think you'll agree that that is only fair. And the next time I do something worthy of pointing and laughing, feel free to return the favor. Wait five minutes, I'm sure I'll do something.
Anyway, that said, I was totally surprised when they revealed that Libby was formerly a crazy brunette in the nuthouse with Hurley. Ok, Lost, you got me. That doesn't mean I'm letting you off the hook, though. Seriously, with the flashbacks . . . enough. Remember last week when a whole bunch of stuff happened, with the big doors and the crushing of legs and the day-glo map on the wall? That was nice. You know, stuff can happen every week THROUGHOUT the entire show. ALSO, if Creepy McBugEyes is telling the truth and really didn't push the button and WE DIDN'T GET TO SEE IT, then we are going to have a problem. A problem that hugging it out won't fix.
I'm moving in two weeks and my goal tonight is to start packing. Or to put the stuff I want to take to Goodwill by the door in a big pile. Last weekend when I cleaned, I was ruthless when throwing things away, but there was some stuff that I couldn't in good conscious just throw away when I could give it to Goodwill so they can sell it for five cents or whatever.
I do have a question, though. I want to get my security deposit back because, hello, it's money. Does anyone have any advice on little things I may forget to do when moving out that they might use as grounds for keeping my money? I mean, I haven't punched holes in any of the walls or broken any windows, but like am I responsible for replacing the lightbulb in the fridge? You know, the one that has been burned out for months now? Do I have to clean the oven even though I hardly ever use it? I know I have to fill in the holes in the wall from where I hung pictures, but how well? If no one buys my stupid heavy couch can I cut it into pieces and throw the pieces all around the apartment?
I don't mean to be obsessive but I just really, really want that money.
Also . . . Lost. Ok. I was starting to get really pissed off toward the middle of the episode, because I thought the big twist or reveal or whatever was just that Hurley's imaginary friend Dave wasn't real, which . . . DUH. And I was going to be really upset if I just sat through an hour of pointless retelling (we get it, Hurley was crazy and he likes food and as much as I like Hurley I am getting really, really tired of all the flashbacks) and that was the only payoff. I'm sorry, but if you didn't realize that Dave was imaginary before the doctor showed Hurley the picture he took I think I have earned the right to point at you and laugh. Ok? I think you'll agree that that is only fair. And the next time I do something worthy of pointing and laughing, feel free to return the favor. Wait five minutes, I'm sure I'll do something.
Anyway, that said, I was totally surprised when they revealed that Libby was formerly a crazy brunette in the nuthouse with Hurley. Ok, Lost, you got me. That doesn't mean I'm letting you off the hook, though. Seriously, with the flashbacks . . . enough. Remember last week when a whole bunch of stuff happened, with the big doors and the crushing of legs and the day-glo map on the wall? That was nice. You know, stuff can happen every week THROUGHOUT the entire show. ALSO, if Creepy McBugEyes is telling the truth and really didn't push the button and WE DIDN'T GET TO SEE IT, then we are going to have a problem. A problem that hugging it out won't fix.
I'm moving in two weeks and my goal tonight is to start packing. Or to put the stuff I want to take to Goodwill by the door in a big pile. Last weekend when I cleaned, I was ruthless when throwing things away, but there was some stuff that I couldn't in good conscious just throw away when I could give it to Goodwill so they can sell it for five cents or whatever.
I do have a question, though. I want to get my security deposit back because, hello, it's money. Does anyone have any advice on little things I may forget to do when moving out that they might use as grounds for keeping my money? I mean, I haven't punched holes in any of the walls or broken any windows, but like am I responsible for replacing the lightbulb in the fridge? You know, the one that has been burned out for months now? Do I have to clean the oven even though I hardly ever use it? I know I have to fill in the holes in the wall from where I hung pictures, but how well? If no one buys my stupid heavy couch can I cut it into pieces and throw the pieces all around the apartment?
I don't mean to be obsessive but I just really, really want that money.
Monday, April 03, 2006
don't chew gum while singing, or, how Kelly Clarkson almost killed me
I almost died today. There I was, driving to the office, innocently chewing some gum when Kelly Clarkson (yes, THE Kelly Clarkson) came on the radio singing "A Moment Like This." I love that song too much NOT to sing it loudly and exuberantly while wildly flinging my arms about. And I refuse to be embarrassed by this. So, I'm singing, ok, shouting along to the radio and mid-screech, my gum slips down the back of my throat. Now, I'm coughing and clawing at my throat and trying not to swerve into oncoming traffic and long story short (heehee) I'm fairly certain that that piece of gum is currently residing in my left lung. Mmm. Minty.
I'm also in the middle of moving-planning-frenzy, which, really, is one of the worst frenzies you can be a part of. I hate moving. Don't get me wrong, I love our new apartment. I can't wait to live there. I just wish I could be living there without the actual moving part. Also, I suppose that since I am moving in with someone, I should be enjoying the solitude while I can.
Here is a list of things I have come up with so far that I will no longer be allowed to do once I have a roommate, at least probably not without consequences of some kind:
Walk around naked
Sleep naked, unless my door locks
Walk around with my MP3 player on, singing at the top of my lungs
Commandeer the television and DVD player to watch Arrested Development for five hours straight
Ditto The Office
And also Pride and Prejudice
Leave ten pairs of shoes in the living room . . . you think I'm exaggerating, but that is exactly how many pairs I found in my living room yesterday while cleaning
Leave dirty dishes in the sink for a week . . . or longer
Leave expired food products in the fridge for a month . . . OK, or longer
Get the mail, open it, and leave it in little piles around the apartment, thus forgetting about any bills until I get around to actual cleaning
Pay bills late
Empty all the ice cube trays and then leave them by the sink for days (yes, Dad, I still do this, all of your work and punishment FAILED TO BREAK ME)
Leave books piled precariously on the kitchen counter, dining room table, back of the toilet, endtables, on top of the TV
I hope Heidi doesn't read this before April 22nd because by then IT WILL BE TOO LATE to get away from me and my annoying habits. I'm sure there are more that I've forgotten. I don't care, though, I'm excited to have a roommate again. It's always more fun to drink with another person, you know, besides Phoebe.
I'm also in the middle of moving-planning-frenzy, which, really, is one of the worst frenzies you can be a part of. I hate moving. Don't get me wrong, I love our new apartment. I can't wait to live there. I just wish I could be living there without the actual moving part. Also, I suppose that since I am moving in with someone, I should be enjoying the solitude while I can.
Here is a list of things I have come up with so far that I will no longer be allowed to do once I have a roommate, at least probably not without consequences of some kind:
Walk around naked
Sleep naked, unless my door locks
Walk around with my MP3 player on, singing at the top of my lungs
Commandeer the television and DVD player to watch Arrested Development for five hours straight
Ditto The Office
And also Pride and Prejudice
Leave ten pairs of shoes in the living room . . . you think I'm exaggerating, but that is exactly how many pairs I found in my living room yesterday while cleaning
Leave dirty dishes in the sink for a week . . . or longer
Leave expired food products in the fridge for a month . . . OK, or longer
Get the mail, open it, and leave it in little piles around the apartment, thus forgetting about any bills until I get around to actual cleaning
Pay bills late
Empty all the ice cube trays and then leave them by the sink for days (yes, Dad, I still do this, all of your work and punishment FAILED TO BREAK ME)
Leave books piled precariously on the kitchen counter, dining room table, back of the toilet, endtables, on top of the TV
I hope Heidi doesn't read this before April 22nd because by then IT WILL BE TOO LATE to get away from me and my annoying habits. I'm sure there are more that I've forgotten. I don't care, though, I'm excited to have a roommate again. It's always more fun to drink with another person, you know, besides Phoebe.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
I totally just pulled my copy of Walden off the shelf . . .yes, I have a copy of Walden
I've had a really quiet and uneventful weekend, and it's been, well, kind of freaking awesome. Last night was like the saddest twenty-something Saturday night in the history of Saturday nights. I put my pajamas on at like . . . um, five o'clock, had pizza and a glass of wine for dinner, and planned on watching movies all night. I made it through a movie and a half before I decided that I just needed to go to bed. And the only reason I felt OK about going to bed at 11 o'clock on a Saturday night was that, because of daylight savings time, I got to set my clock ahead an hour and going to bed at midnight didn't seem quite as bad.
I think the highlight of my weekend (so far, I mean, because Grey's Anatomy hasn't been on yet of course) was getting a drunk dial from my friend Friday night. Usually I am on the other end of a drunk dial. You know, the end with the loud music and the beer and the yelling and laughing into the phone. But not this time. It was a nice change. And that the drunk dial was to tell me that the bar was playing Ring of Fire, my favorite song like EVER (honestly, the only reason I was excited that they made Walk the Line was because I wanted to hear Ring of Fire all loud in the theater . . . oh, and also, Joaquin Phoenix is hot), made it even better.
I have been sitting here at my computer for like an hour, drinking coffee and working up the motivation to start cleaning my apartment. It sounds like spring cleaning but it's not. I'm moving in about three weeks . . . did I mention this before? I can't remember. Anyway. I'm moving in with a friend and I'm pretty excited because we got a great (read: cheap) deal on a really nice (read: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS IT IS THE BEST APARTMENT EVER) apartment. An apartment that is next to Walden Pond, which . . . OK, you guys? Do you realize how excited I am to walk around that pond pretending I am Thoreau, only minus the penis and the jail time and the tuberculosis? I don't think anyone really gets just how excited I am about this, or they do and they are choosing to ignore it because, hello, it's really weird.
So, yeah, I'm going to straight up (now tell me) clean my apartment from top to bottom today, and throw a bunch of shit away and give even more shit to Goodwill. I don't know where to start, though. I have accumulated a lot of crap in the last year. Also, I'm really bad at throwing stuff away because I might need those four pieces of notebook paper at some point and also it is wasteful to throw away that bottle of lotion with three squirts left in it. There are children in AFRICA who will never know the pleasure of the Jergens original scent.
Hee, one of my Hoosier friends who recently moved to Ohio just called me to see what time it was. Oh, you crazy Hoosiers. It makes me giggle that you have finally succumbed to Daylight Savings Time. Mwaaahaaahaaaa!*
*Yes, I know the Spring DST, forward an hour so you lose an hour of sleeping or drinking depending on where you are, sucks ass, but the Fall one is awesome so just wait.
I think the highlight of my weekend (so far, I mean, because Grey's Anatomy hasn't been on yet of course) was getting a drunk dial from my friend Friday night. Usually I am on the other end of a drunk dial. You know, the end with the loud music and the beer and the yelling and laughing into the phone. But not this time. It was a nice change. And that the drunk dial was to tell me that the bar was playing Ring of Fire, my favorite song like EVER (honestly, the only reason I was excited that they made Walk the Line was because I wanted to hear Ring of Fire all loud in the theater . . . oh, and also, Joaquin Phoenix is hot), made it even better.
I have been sitting here at my computer for like an hour, drinking coffee and working up the motivation to start cleaning my apartment. It sounds like spring cleaning but it's not. I'm moving in about three weeks . . . did I mention this before? I can't remember. Anyway. I'm moving in with a friend and I'm pretty excited because we got a great (read: cheap) deal on a really nice (read: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS IT IS THE BEST APARTMENT EVER) apartment. An apartment that is next to Walden Pond, which . . . OK, you guys? Do you realize how excited I am to walk around that pond pretending I am Thoreau, only minus the penis and the jail time and the tuberculosis? I don't think anyone really gets just how excited I am about this, or they do and they are choosing to ignore it because, hello, it's really weird.
So, yeah, I'm going to straight up (now tell me) clean my apartment from top to bottom today, and throw a bunch of shit away and give even more shit to Goodwill. I don't know where to start, though. I have accumulated a lot of crap in the last year. Also, I'm really bad at throwing stuff away because I might need those four pieces of notebook paper at some point and also it is wasteful to throw away that bottle of lotion with three squirts left in it. There are children in AFRICA who will never know the pleasure of the Jergens original scent.
Hee, one of my Hoosier friends who recently moved to Ohio just called me to see what time it was. Oh, you crazy Hoosiers. It makes me giggle that you have finally succumbed to Daylight Savings Time. Mwaaahaaahaaaa!*
*Yes, I know the Spring DST, forward an hour so you lose an hour of sleeping or drinking depending on where you are, sucks ass, but the Fall one is awesome so just wait.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
yesterday was really windy
And yesterday was the day I started worrying that I'd run out of things to post on my blog. Then in the span of two minutes, I drove by a one-legged man in a motorized wheelchair steering haphazardly down the middle of the road and also an old man in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot taking a nap in his car. With his window open. While the blustery, blustery wind blew into his wide open mouth. I thought about pulling over to see if he was still alive, but wouldn't you be pissed if you were taking a little snooze in your car and you woke up to some girl poking you in the face with a dirty straw that she'd found in the Taco Bell parking lot next door?
If you're that guy, you totally did.*
*I did not really poke an old man in the face with anything, let alone a dirty straw. Seriously. What do you think of me?
If you're that guy, you totally did.*
*I did not really poke an old man in the face with anything, let alone a dirty straw. Seriously. What do you think of me?
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