Discovered by the Germans in 1904, they named it San Diego, which of course in German means a whale's vagina.

I don't know why, but I have been super productive lately. It's like I don't even know who I am anymore. Yesterday, on my lunch break, instead of staring at the Internet for an hour ( which is what I normally do), I wrote an article, balanced my checkbook, and went to the bank, CVS and the gas station. ALL IN AN HOUR. I know you're impressed, don't pretend you're not.

And last night, once I got home from work, I did two TWO! loads of laundry, wrote an article, cleaned my bathroom, changed the shower curtain liner, vacuumed my bedroom and took out the trash. NOW who is impressed?

I feel like I had more to say but now I can't remember what any of it was. Oh well.

Here's something. Every time I'm about to go running, I get Tiffany's "I Think We're Alone Now," stuck in my head because of when she's all, "running just as fast as we can . . . holding onto one another's hands . . . trying to get away, into the night, and then you put your arms around me as we tumble to the ground and then you say . . . I THINK WE'RE ALONE NOW, there doesn't seem to be anyone around." I will have you know I didn't have to look up any of those lyrics. Impressed?

COME ON! What do I have to do to impress you people? Jerks.

So you want to hear how I almost pantsed myself in the apartment complex parking lot? Too bad. Well, I have this pair of gym shorts that I wear all the time. I don't know why I still wear them because they are far, far too big. They barely stay up. But they're so comfortable. So I went outside to take the trash out and I had to put the trash down so I could lock the door behind me. Here is why I had to lock the door: the dumpster is behind our building so I can't see our door the entire time, and I'm always paranoid that if I leave it unlocked, some miscreant (not a zombie, though, because they are not smart enough to think of these kinds of shenanigans) is going to run into our apartment and hide somewhere (like UNDER MY BED!) until I come back in and then he'll ATTACK ME WHEN I'M LEAST EXPECTING IT. You can tell me this is completely irrational, and you wouldn't be wrong, but Heidi thinks the same thing so at least I'm not alone in my irrationality. So. Anyway. As I put the trash down so I could lock the door, some pokey thing sticking out of the trash bag got snagged on my shorts and pulled them down. Not all the way. Just like one butt cheek. Also I was wearing underwear. And it was dark outside on account of all the nighttime in the air.

I bet you're at impressed now. Sure, maybe you're only impressed with how stupid I am, but I'll take it.