The company has made it my responsibility today to put an end to 100,000 years of being weirded out by gays.

Last night, while watching The Office and Grey's Anatomy and after making the following comments:

"Do you think Jim even knows that Pam didn't marry Roy?"

"I can't believe Pam didn't marry Roy."

"Seriously. They didn't get married."

and

"God, has Izzy gone to the bathroom? Is she like . . . peeing on her dress, cause if so there's no way she can ever wear that again."

I finally admitted to Heidi that sometimes I forget that TV characters aren't real people. I don't think she was too surprised.

Michael said, “We must deceive them, so as not to hurt them. And in that way, we honor them.”*

Last night, while I was alternately fixing dinner (and by fixing dinner, I mean wandering around the kitchen trying to figure out what I could fix that would take the least amount of time) and watching Dancing With the Stars, Phoebe went batshit crazy and ran wily-nily around the apartment. This eventually led to her knocking over the lamp, which spilled my water and knocked a bunch of shit on the ground. Then, with a look at me that seemed to say, "fuck you, human," she jumped from the soaking wet endtable to the half-wall overlooking the stairs and knocked over the pile of magazines and mail, creating such a loud ruckus that she was forced to meow loudly and hightail it under Heidi's bed. And now our lamp isn't working. Goddamn cat.

Oh, and Heidi told me I forgot about this one . . . so now, Conversation With My Roommate That One Time We Took a Walk After Eating A Lot of Pizza Oh and Also I Had Had a Beer As If That Is An Excuse For Anything (It's Not):

Me: I ate too much pizza.
Heidi: Me too.
Me: Uhhhhh.
Heidi: I should have gone to the bathroom before we left.
Me: Gross. You could just go outside.
Heidi: Talk about gross.
Me: That's what the pond is for!
Heidi: Then we'd get another notice with our newsletter.
Me: Yeah. "Parents. Please make sure your children are wearing diapers when you throw them into the pond to swim."
Heidi: Do you think they can tell the difference between adult poop and baby poop?
Me: Um, yeah, it's different sizes.
Heidi: How do you know?
Me: Cause when we used to go to the pool when we were little, if anyone found poop on the bottom of the pool we'd put on our goggles and go look at it.
Heidi: Ew!
Me: What? We were like ten! Poop is funny when you're ten!
Heidi: Well, I would just poop on the sidewalk like a goose.
Me: Hahahaha!
Heidi: I'd be all, "hold on a second . . . PLOP!"
Me: Hahahaha!
Heidi: Are you OK?
Me: No, I can't breathe, really.
Heidi: Sorry.
Me: Do you find it disturbing that we talk about pooping outside when we're dead sober and yet that one time when me, you, and Mary were wasted we spent an hour on the balcony talking about the Holocaust?
Heidi: Kind of.
Me: Ok. Glad we're on the same page.

*The Office starts tomorrow, bitches!

avast, me hearties

I have been waiting for this day, dreaming about this day, and practically holding my breath ALL YEAR until it was acceptable* at work to say, "yo ho," after everything.

That's right, land lubbers . . . it's Talk Like a Pirate Day!

I can't believe I forgot my sword.

*Ok, I realize that saying "ho" at work is probably** never acceptable. Leave me alone. It's Talk Like a Pirate Day!
**Ok, not probably. Never. It is never acceptable to say "ho" at work.

for real, I almost peed myself

Check out how cheap gas was in Mason today*:


Take a moment for your eyes to adjust. That is gas . . . under two dollars a gallon. I know! Of course, I had already filled up my tank in Dayton before I left at $2.11 and then when I got back to Dayton this evening the price had jumped to $2.24. It's OK, though. I've given up trying to make sense of it.

You guys, it's Monday again. I just can't understand how and why this keeps happening. Actually, I'm just whining for no reason. I had a very good Monday, but don't tell the universe.

*between this photo and the picture of the pimps** I took Saturday night, my new camera phone has already paid for itself AND THEN SOME

**Ok, I'll share a picture. It's not the one I took with my phone, but it is the best picture I have ever been a part of:

The pimp dressed in black was at least 70, had no teeth, and told me I looked good holding his cane.

Dear Internets, I have a problem

Not a mental problem. THIS time. I think something is wrong with my coffeemaker. OK, I know something is wrong with my coffeemaker. The on/off switch, when turned to the on position has a little orange light that, well, lights up. Lately, however, I'll go out to the kitchen expecting to see a freshly brewed semi-pot of coffee (not a whole pot, unless I plan to run to work that day) and instead! The pot! Is empty! This makes me sad on several levels. One, because I'm usually on a very tight schedule in the morning as a result of hitting snooze 78 times and there is no room for error and I ESPECIALLY do not have time for coffee shenanigans and TWO, because I love coffee! And where is it? Seriously! Coffeemaker, why have you forsaken me!

Anyway. I've found that if I flip the on/off switch back and forth a couple of times, eventually the orange light will come back on and my coffee will brew. Or, if you hold the switch in a certain position, like halfway between on and off, the coffee will start brewing again. Unfortunately, I don't have time to stand there with my finger on the switch and watch the precious liquid drip sloooooowly into the void of the coffeepot because usually I'm standing there in a towel with my wet hair dripping all over the linoleum. So I've come up with a temporary solution. I took a piece of scotch tape and very gingerly placed it on the bottom of the on/off switch to hold it in the proper position while I run away and frantically get ready for work. And while I'm proud of this solution (I feel it proves that my dad's engineer genes, the ones that enable him to MacGyver problem appliances in the easiest way possible using ordinary household items, haven't completely been nurtured out of my body), I would like to be able to fix it permanently. You know. Without having to spend money on a new one.

On a completely unrelated note . . . is this week crawling by for anyone else? Seriously. I'm pretty sure they added a couple days. All Mondays.

Being nice when you say something pricky is even prickier.*

You guys, today was almost complete and total shit. Aside from a short reprieve earlier this evening, today has been a total shit sandwich. Wait, that doesn't work because the good part of the day was in the middle. Ok, today was like a big, fat diamond rolled in shit bread. Or maybe not a diamond, because that would probably hurt if you tried to eat it. Anyway. Today was shitty. I don't want to talk about it.

I will talk about the big, fat diamond, though. Tonight was my first official night of volunteering. Maybe not official because I was technically "observing" but little kids don't just let you sit there and not do anything. I mean, they're at least going to use you as a prop. I was pretty excited because I got to go with the Littles, meaning kids 2nd grade and younger. I would prefer to work with the youngest kids because I feel, maturity wise, they are more on my level and will probably laugh if I say "poop" or "pee." ANYWAY. There were only three kids in the group tonight and instead of doing any of the planned activities, they wanted to play doctor and patient. I was quickly reminded that little kids have no boundaries when one of them, a little boy who was maybe 6, came directly to me and stuck a stethoscope down the front of my shirt so he could listen to my heart. I immediately thought, "oh god, I'm going to get kicked out when they walk in and see a little boy's hand down my shirt," but it was barely there for a minute when he exclaimed, "Hey! This thing actually works, I can hear your heart!" and ran away to give a stuffed bunny a shot.

Which, thank god . . . I hate shots. Tequila being the exception.

*Do you hear that, nice guys? Seriously, just be a prick. It's easier and it looks like more fun. Own it.

Conversations with my Roommate: Dancing With the Stars Edition*

Me: Holy shit, Mario Lopez is hot!
Heidi: I know, he's gotten better with age.
Me: Yeah, he has! Look at him!
Heidi: And Zach Morris used to be the dreamy one.
Me: Although, he got better with age, too.
Heidi: True.

Me: I'm gonna pee my pants.
Heidi: Um.
Me: Calm down, I'm walking to the bathroom.**

*shut up, I don't wanna hear it
**I realize that had nothing to do with Dancing with the Stars, but it happened during the show so it still counts. Shut up, it does.