mmm, free ice cream

I spent the majority of last night talking to new volunteers about my own volunteering experience, and then teaching them how to color and play Candy Land. Most people probably think they already know HOW to color and play Candy Land. And you're probably OK at it. But I'm like . . . wicked awesome at it. Alright, really, we color just like everyone else does but you have to practice this reflective play crap and hone your listening skills and all that junk. So that was my job last night -- to teach new people how to do that. And I got to color. And play Candy Land. This isn't normal Candy Land, though, it's Grief Candy Land and you talk about dead people the whole time. Not zombie dead people, but like dead relatives and friends and stuff. The Happy Factor of Candy Land cancels out all the emo, though, so don't worry.

Anyway, when I walked out to the parking lot after THREE HOURS of training and coloring and whatnot, I squinted through the darkness at my car. Something didn't look right. And then it hit me.

MY OBAMA STICKER WAS GONE.

That's right. Someone STOLE the Obama sticker right off my bumper. I'll admit, a couple of years ago when W and Bush/Cheney stickers were all over the place, I would feel some rage every now and then and think about swiping them, but I'd never actually do it. Because I'm an adult. A RESPONSIBLE adult (most of the time). Plus, getting bumper stickers off of bumpers is really hard (that'swhatshesaid) and I'll say this for the thief . . . they got every bit of that sticker off of my car. So, thanks for that, I guess.

I don't know when it happened. It could have happened in our apartment complex lot, because Heidi's (new!) car was vandalized, too, only we don't really know if that happened in our parking lot, either. It could have been stolen when my car was in my work parking lot. A lot of my coworkers were really upset the day after the election, but the coworker who listened to conservative talk radio all day is no longer here, so it couldn't have been her. PLUS, I really think this is something I would have noticed it right away. Which means someone stole it from the parking lot of a center for grieving children while I was inside teaching other volunteers how to help said children through their grief. I feel sort of sorry for whoever stole my sticker because they are clearly going straight to hell and I've heard Satan does not pass out free ice cream*.

*he might pass out free hot chocolate if hell freezes over, though

bottom of the barrel

So it would seem I forgot I had a blog. Oops. I was going to write, I really was, but all I had to talk about was coughing and phlegm and Vicks Vapor Rub and nobody wants to hear about that. I'm feeling a bit better today, though, and by that I mean I'm not staring daggers at the clock, wishing for time to go faster so I can go home and put my pajamas on and sit in a drug-induced vegetative state in front of the television. Also, it's Friday. And payday. I enjoy both of those, even though I'm doing this thing where I pretend most of the money in my checking account is not there. I can't spend it if it's not there. This is my reasoning.

I think the drugs are starting to affect my dreams, because last night I dreamt I was at the Inauguration, only it was in this really small concert venue and Barack Obama was wearing the whole graduation get-up (cap and gown and tassels and sashes), which I suppose makes a bit of sense because he was graduating from being awesome to being super awesome. So I'm watching the ceremony and then Barack Obama started singing. I don't remember what song it was but I do remember thinking he had a lovely singing voice. I was way in the back and couldn't see much, so I started inching closer and closer because I'm stealthy like that (until I trip over something or fall over) and soon I was standing right behind the good seats, where all the famous people were sitting. I was standing behind Brian Williams and when he saw me, he jumped up and told me to follow him and I was all, "Sure, Brian Williams, I like your tie, let's go." So then he was all, "Do you know how to drive a taxi?" and I was like, "If a taxi is anything like A CAR, then yes, I can drive a taxi," and he was all, "Thanks, SMART ASS," and I was like, "Chill OUT, Brian Williams, it's a good day!" Then he gave me a taxi and it looked like one of those old, run-down taxis from The Royal Tenenbaums and I drove around for a long time the streets were empty on account of everyone was either AT the Inauguration or WATCHING the Inauguration. Except for me and Brian Williams, of course. Then I woke up and was pissed because I didn't get to see Obama's big encore. The end!

WARNING: there is disturbing hooha talk ahead. I mean it. Turn away now.

Thank you all for the kind words yesterday. I knew I could count on you guys.

Now, it's time to talk about the gyno. I know, how excited are you? So. I went to the gyno this morning, because what better way to start the week than by letting someone you don't know very well shove a cold piece of metal into your hooha and poke around with giant Q-tips. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT THEY DO. I think sometimes men wonder why women complain about going to the gyno and HERE IS WHY.

First, you walk in and they weigh you. I'm really OK with this. The part I have a problem with is that they then measure you and SOMEHOW I've shrunk a quarter of an inch from last time I was in. Or I was wearing thicker socks last time. Or I was standing up straighter. I don't know. But I do know that 26 is probably too young to start shrinking.

Then they take you to an exam room, where they point out the lovely frock you'll be wearing. The nurse is all, "make sure the gown is open in the back and put this white sheet over your lap." The white sheet is for privacy while the doctor gropes you. You'll see.

So you change into this gown, making sure to leave the opening in the back, and cover your business with the white sheet. You wait and wait and wait and, if you're like me, you're just getting to a good part in your book when the doctor walks in and is all, "How's life? How often do you do it? Have you ever been pregnant? When was the first day of your last cycle?" It's like an exam you haven't studied for PLUS ALSO an interrogation. There are even hot lights shining on you. Sure, they're shining on your lady parts, but whatever.

After some chit-chat, the doctor tells you to lie back and put your arms over your head so she can feel you up and make sure your boobs aren't bad-lumpy. And then she yells at your for not giving yourself monthly breast exams. My doctor also likes small talk, but instead of talking about the weather, she'll talk about how her kids go to Catholic school and one day they came home and said they'd had a discussion about abortion in religion class. And you just smile and nod and try to pretend she's not kneading your boob like a bunch of dough.

Now comes the big show. The stirrups come out and she's all, "scoot down here . . . a bit more . . . that's it . . . relax your knees," and it's very uncomfortable, except you're kind of distracted because SHE'S STILL TALKING ABOUT ABORTION. And then, with some gentle words ("oh boy, this part is never fun") she violates you with a piece of metal. Good times. Now is when she switches subjects a bit and starts talking about how she really liked that Mike Huckabee and you bite your tongue because you are in a VERY. COMPRIMISING. POSITION. and she could do you permanent damage. Eventually, she finishes and you think it's all over, but then she feels your ovaries or uterus or whatever. From the inside. Yeah. I've heard some gynos poke you in the butthole or something, but mine doesn't do that. If she did, I'd poke HER in the butthole and see how she likes people messing around down there.

See? I told you not to read this. That'll learn you.

oh, what a beautiful morning

Good morning, Internets!

Four years ago, I woke up and immediately wanted to go back to sleep for four more years. This morning I'm exhausted from staying up to watch Obama speak and ALSO I was too excited to go to sleep, but I'm ecstatic. I've never voted for a winning president before. It feels nice.

As I was getting ready, I turned on CNN, just in cases, and poked my head out of my bedroom to talk to Heidi.

Me: Psst!
Heidi: Yeeees?
Me: Barack Obama still won.
Heidi: Oh good, I didn't dream it.
Me: I know. I turned on the news to make sure it wasn't a beautiful, beautiful dream.

Text messages I received last night:

I'm voting!

I'M SO EXCITED!

I am not joking when I say there is dancing in the streets of DC.

I am crying so hard.

Holey moley!

Whoo!

I think "Whoo!" sums it up nicely. Happy Wednesday.

liveblogging the election: bedtime

Jon Stewart told me the good news, and CNN and John McCain confirmed it. I'm going to bed and hoping for no hanging-chad-like surprises come morning.

Wow. Just . . . wow.

liveblogging the election: Fox News edition

Heidi: Brit Hume . . . or James Carville?
Me: At least James Carville is a Democrat.

I'm so glad it's almost time for the real news.

I think the real question is . . . Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert?

(Jon Stewart)

OHIO!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS OHIO IS ALL BLUE AND NOT IN THE BAD DEPRESSING WAY BUT IN THE GOOD WAY! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

This is so the opposite of last time.

Heidi: Ohio just BLUE my mind.

liveblogging the election: death is not an option

Heidi: Bax. Anderson Cooper or Brian Williams?
Me: Oooh, that's tough. Brian Williams.
Heidi: I'd go Anderson Cooper ... Steve?
Steve: Brian Williams!
Heidi: Um, no. Katie Couric or Campbell Brown?

So, Steve went gay. And then Joe made inappropriate comments about Soledad O'Brien and Campbell Brown mud-wrestling. Naked.

Steve: Best. Election Night. Ever.

liveblogging the election: Heidi just blue herself

Heidi is on the phone with her mom, who voted for McCain, telling her that she let her down. And me down. And all of womankind down. It's funny.

We started watching the coverage on CNN. And then we flipped it to Fox News, but no one was yelling so it wasn't as fun as I thought it'd be. Now we're watching Brian Williams because he's hot. We all agreed. We = Heidi, me, Steve, Joe, Phoebe.

The chili was a success. The cookies are cooling on the stove. So far, so good.

liveblogging the election: I am obnoxious

Conversations with my mother: email edition

Me: Are you aware that both of your daughters voted for Obama today?
Mom: Yes, I feel SOOO honored.
Me: You should! Was the line at your precinct long?
Mom: Yeah! Your dad and I waited an hour first thing this AM and the precinct across from my work is CRAZY!
Me: That’s insane. Heidi voted early on Saturday and waited for four hours. I thought that’d mean that today wouldn’t be as busy but I guess not!
Mom: Nope, that’s kind of what I thought too but it is not proving to be true! Have you voted yet?
Me: Yeah, I took my lunch early and went around 11. It was really busy there, but my precinct must be one of the smaller ones because there wasn’t much of a line.
Mom: Well, good, I guess! Even though you voted for Obama.
Me: I couldn’t vote for McCain in case he dies. Palin scares me.
Mom: Really, and Biden doesn’t?
Me: Nope. I want Palin to stay out of my uterus and my business.
Mom: No, kiddo, tell me how you REALLY feel!
Me: I don’t like her. The end. Heidi and I made chili for tonight. It’s a healthy recipe that we’re making in the crock pot. I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Mom: Okay, if it's good, you are REQUIRED to share the recipe!
Me: Well, I know you use ground turkey, and black beans instead of kidney beans, and those green chile things. And some other stuff, too.
Mom: That is so helpful dear!
Me: What, you need more details?
Mom: Ya think!?!?!

More details: here.

live blogging the election: VOTED!

I did it. You can do it, too. You know, if you're registered.

GO VOTE.

(Obama)

Dwight thinks it's Friday...so keep that going

I had this plan all worked out today, to use the time change to my advantage and miss work. See, I was going to SAY I came in at 7, which I thought was 8, and when I saw that no one was there, I assumed it was Sunday and went home. And THEN I was going to sleep in and call work around, say, 11? And tell them I thought it was Sunday THEREFORE, I'd be in whenever I goddamn well felt like it. I was informed that this was a bad plan, as my boss would think I was either A) a liar or B) really, really dumb and I think I'd get fired in either case.

Whatever, I slept the crap out of that extra hour, so I guess I got everything out of Daylight Savings Time that I'm going to. Hey! Guess what? I've decided I love NaBloPoMo. Not because I have to write some crap everyday, but because OTHER people have to write some crap every day. This means my Google Reader is never empty. Not that my Google Reader is EVER empty, but let's ignore that part.

OHMYGODYOUGUYS. Guess what tomorrow is! I'm not sure why I'm so excited about tomorrow, given my track record. Never have I ever voted for a winning president. It's enough to make a girl to vote for McCain tomorrow. That's crazy talk, of course. I'm trying not to be superstitious, but I can't help it. I'm afraid to be optimistic on account of, um, the past two presidential elections. I thought about voting early, but Heidi did and waited FOUR HOURS in order to vote. She's such a good citizen. I find it incredibly uplifting that so many people are voting early. In the end, I decided not to vote early because I like to vote on election day. MOSTLY so I can wear my "I Voted" sticker around all day like a big nerd. After the voting is all over, we're gathering at a bar to watch the results come in. My thoughts are, if Obama is winning, I'll need a celebratory drink and if McCain is winning, well . . . I'll just need to be drinking period. Sigh.

Moving on. Because I am incredibly open to suggestion, I purchased this, after I read about it on some blogs. People were all, "this is so hard!" and I was all, "that's what she said!" and then I bought it. And you guys? It is so hard. That's what she said. I did it on Saturday (that'swhatshesaid) and I am still sore (that'swhatshesaid). It's a good thing I bought it, though, because this is what I ate this weekend:

Cousin Vinny's Pizza
Sonic
Spaghetti Warehouse
Penn Station
Clancy's

We went to Clancy's last night for dinner, and Heidi ordered us some deep fried cheese. Because, see, they were out of deep fried pickles. And then I got some Buffalo Balls (boneless buffalo wings) with hot sauce, and they were pretty spicy so I had to wash them down with some Miller Lite. Then my tummy kind of hurt for the rest of the night. And that is why today I am not going to eat anything deep fried. Tomorrow, though, that depends on the election results. I may be drowning my sorrows in more than just a pitcher of beer.

Good news, everyone!

NBC is back! This is good. Not that I won't miss HBO Family. They had been showing Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead like . . . every single day. I heart that movie. Did you know David Duchovny is in it? Well, he is. David Duchovny is also in Beethoven. He and the wife from Everybody Loves Raymond get dragged down the street by the dog. It's funny, if you're a little kid. Actually, even then, it's not really funny.

Internets, prepare to have your minds blown. I haven't even watched last week's episode of The Office yet. I KNOW. I have no good reason for not watching it. It's not like I've been out saving homeless babies from zombies. I mean, zombies wouldn't eat babies anyway, homeless or otherwise, because baby brains are TINY and the zombies would still be really hungry afterward. It would just be a waste of their energy. Anyway. I need to watch it ASAP. Like, before tonight's episode. Now that it's back on TV, I HAVE to watch it live. Or whatever. I mean, it's Beggar's Night, so I might be busy throwing candy at children.

Last night, I watched that Obama thingie that was on a zillion channels. I wasn't going to, because I already know I'm voting for him, but this person in my office listens to conservative talk radio all day (ALL. FUCKING. DAY.), so when Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity start bitching about it, I want to know what they're talking about. Although, when I hear them talking, I don't really hear words, mostly I just hear, "waaaah waaaaaaaah wah wah . . . wah wah waaaaaah," which sort of sounds like a combination of Chewbacca and the adults from the Peanuts cartoons. It's not a pleasant sound, but it's still better than what their real voices sound like. Anyway, I'm really glad I watched it. I even got a little teary, which honestly is not that big of a feat. I get teary during episodes of Saved by the Bell because YOU KNOW WHAT? It was really sad when Zack and Kelly broke up!

I was going to refrain from all political talk this time around, after live-blogging the election four years ago, but I am very, very nervous. Even more nervous than I was in 2004 and believe you me, I was PRETTY DAMN NERVOUS in 2004. I never would have thought that anything would be scarier than another four years of W, but congratulations McCain and Palin! You did it!

UPDATE: Halloween pictures!

orange mocha frappuccino!

Are you guys all using Google Reader? Please tell me you are. Except, if you all tell me you ARE using Google Reader, I'll know you're lying because I know for a FACT that there are several of you out there not using it. This blows my mind. It's just like when I find out people aren't using Gmail. Are you guys all using Gmail? If you're not, please tell me and I'll send you an invite because I have 90 bajillion of them and then I'll make fun of you for a while, but it'll be OK, really, because you really should be using Gmail. You brought this on yourself.

Here is why you should be using it: your friends share things and you get to read them. And your friends will share awesome things like that David Duchovny has entered rehab for a sex addiction (WHAT?!?) and this (which will not be funny unless you've seen Zoolander).

So, for the love of pancakes, please start using Google Reader. Please? I mean, if you spend any time on the internets whatsoever, this will really organize your time-wasting. Trust me.

In other, real life, news, last night Heidi and I met Nancy at Fox & Hound because Nancy told us they had this yummy raspberry beer there. And they did. And we also got food. Because, you know, it was dinner time and the last time I had nothing but beer for dinner, I wound up hanging out with random British guys in a hotel lobby at 4 AM. True story.

When Heidi and I got there, I started digging through my purse for chapstick or something, and so I was pulling stuff out and putting it on the table. Said stuff included a book. Some manager dude came over to check on us, because we didn't have a waitress yet.

Manager Dude: Has anyone said hi to you yet?
Heidi: Nope.
Manager Dude: OK, well, hi. Oh, what are you reading?
Me: Um.
Manager Dude: I'm nosy.
Me: Persuasion. Jane Austen.
Manager Dude: Oooooh. So you're reading that for school, yeah?
Me: . . . no.

Last night, I also went to Kroger to buy ramen noodles (JOE) and I looked for Uncrustables, Abigail, but I couldn't find them. What aisle are they in? I did find chocolate covered pretzel 100 calorie packs, though, so YUM.

Then we watched Obama speak the hell out of some words. Today McCain is in Dayton to announce his running mate. I'll let you figure out which of those things I'm more excited about.