I went to the eye doctor this morning, which I don't really mind, because the eye doctor is my favorite of all of the doctors. Eye appointments are the only medical appointments that I can go to and not feel like I've been molested in some way afterward. I mean, at the dentist, they poke at your tender, pink gums with sharp, metal objects and at the gyno they...well, let's just say it's similar to the dentist but they poke you in a different part of the body. And WHO KNOWS what might happen to you at the regular doctor. First they get you in that paper gown and then you are at their mercy.
So anyway, the eye doctor. The only thing I hate about going to the eye doctor is that there's a test. And as a former overachiever, who had to NOT ONLY get the best grade in the class but also finish her test before anyone else, I find this stressful. A or B? One or two? Is the first one better, or the last one? I DON'T KNOW LEAVE ME ALONE. Sometimes I think the doctor is totally messing with me, too. Like, she'll flip between two different lenses and be like, "is the first one better or the second?" and THEY ARE TOTALLY THE SAME. And then she'll make some comment like, "I bet the last one is pretty blurry," and I think, "OMG I FAIL I FAIL I NEED TO START OVER," and then I freak out and start Hulk-smashing all of the equipment and they ask me to put my credit card on the counter and back slowly out of the building.
Just kidding, that only happened once.
I decided to go to the eye doctor, even though I was pretty sure my prescription hadn't changed, so I could get contacts for the wedding. I've had contacts in the past, but the last time they ran out I just...didn't go get more. I figured I'd get them soon and that was, um, two or three years ago. OOPS. My eyesight is not that bad, so I really only wear my glasses at the movies, while driving, and sometimes while watching TV. However. I do not want to wear my glasses all day for the wedding, because eventually I get sick of them and want to rip them off of my face and stomp on them. And if I don't wear them, well, everything will be sort of pleasantly fuzzy but I figured I might want to be able to see Joe's face from the other end of the aisle so CONTACTS IT IS.
Showing posts with label ooh something shiny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ooh something shiny. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Friday, January 30, 2009
I meant to post this hours ago but then I saw something shiny and forgot (plus also! grace in small things: day 8)
I think many of us can agree that 2009 has gotten off to a rocky start. Early on in January, when it looked like 2009 was kicking some of my friends square in the face, I theorized that MAYBE 2009 was following that saying about March: In like a lion, out like a lamb. So rest easy, friends. 2009 may suck right now, but by December, you will be swimming in pools of chocolate or money or Hannah Montana dolls or whatever other weird thing you kids are into these days. Also, playing with lambs, if I'm understanding that saying correctly.
I don't know what to expect from this weekend, since it is both the last day of January and the first day of February, but I have high hopes. High, I say! My hopes, not me. Which brings me to my five things for the day:
- chocolate covered pretzels
- I have a dinner date with Joe
- and then later a drinking date with Heidi
- and then tomorrow morning, I will sleep in
- and then drink coffee and eat peanut butter toast and hang out in my pajamas watching bad TV and reading
And then, you know, I will shower and get dressed and stuff. Not that I wouldn't love hanging out in my pajamas all day, reading and watching bad TV. Not that I HAVEN'T hung out in my pajamas all day, reading and watching bad TV. I mean, that's basically what I did on Wednesday, only I did get dressed for a little bit and I spent an hour banging ice off my car (that counts as exercise) and also Jillian killed me and really, I don't consider The Biggest Loser bad TV. Anyway. Where was I?
Right. Tomorrow we are celebrating The Birth of Steve (Lampl and Jon will be there!) and then on Sunday, I'm going to my parents' to watch The Super Bowl. Not because I care about the game (pshaw) but because I whined so much about wanting them to make spicy chili that they finally caved, and also I'm going to try and convince them that we should watch The Puppy Bowl instead of football.
So, you know, here are the good things I have going on this weekend: Joe, Heidi, Steve, Lampl, Jon, coffee, peanut butter, pajamas, bad TV, reading, parents, sister, beer, chili, puppies playing football. Please be nice, January.
Friday, November 14, 2008
I don't even know, you guys
You know, earlier I was looking at my shoes and I realized they look sort of like Pilgrim shoes. Like, if I was going to dress up like a Pilgrim, and I could only use materials that I already owned, I would definitely wear these shoes. You might be asking yourself, "But Jennie, why would you ever want to dress up like a Pilgrim?" and I am here to tell you . . . I don't know. But I'm sure there are occasions to dress up like Pilgrim. Let's see. There's Halloween, for sure. I know Halloween is over, but it's never too early to start planning for next year. Or perhaps your family is totally weird and you dress up like Pilgrims and Indians for Thanksgiving. That could be fun, actually, but make sure it's accurate. After the Thanksgiving meal, you should kill a couple of the Indians by giving them smallpox or something. Just make sure one of your least favorite relatives dresses up like an Indian. That way you wouldn't have to listen to Uncle Bob's stories about his spastic colon at Christmas, and that's beneficial to everyone.
You know, I actually have dressed up like a Pilgrim before. We had Pioneer Day once in 6th grade and I realize those aren't EXACTLY the same thing, but I'm not sure my teacher knew that. I distinctly remember making Pilgrim hats, and then wearing a long, flowy skirt and a really uncomfortable button-up shirt, so no one would think I was a witch (read: whore) and burn me at the stake. That would be uncomfortable.
ACTUALLY, I think my shoes look more like witch shoes. Plus, I have on striped socks, just like the Wicked Witch of the East wore when she got crushed by Dorothy's flying house. And I'm sort of mean, so it totally fits.
You know, I actually have dressed up like a Pilgrim before. We had Pioneer Day once in 6th grade and I realize those aren't EXACTLY the same thing, but I'm not sure my teacher knew that. I distinctly remember making Pilgrim hats, and then wearing a long, flowy skirt and a really uncomfortable button-up shirt, so no one would think I was a witch (read: whore) and burn me at the stake. That would be uncomfortable.
ACTUALLY, I think my shoes look more like witch shoes. Plus, I have on striped socks, just like the Wicked Witch of the East wore when she got crushed by Dorothy's flying house. And I'm sort of mean, so it totally fits.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
It's curtains for you, Dr. Horrible. Lacy, gently wafting curtains.
Hello, Internets. I barely have the energy to type this. I'm just . . . so . . . tired.
Heh. I'm really on edge right now, because they're doing some construction or something downstairs and they're drilling and it sounds like the loudest fart ever. Like, say someone farted so loud that your head exploded? That's how loud the drilling is, only my head hasn't exploded yet because drilling doesn't make heads explode, only farting does.
This morning I watched Saved by the Bell as I was getting ready for work. It was the one where Zach hires Screech to tutor Kelly so Kelly will pass her test and take Zach to see George Michael. That sounds really complicated, doesn't it? No. It doesn't. What's wrong with you? Anyway, Kelly goes over to Screech's house and he has a robot in his room named Kevin who is sort of a rip off of Johnny 5. But then again, so is Wall-E. WHAT? I love Wall-E, too, but COME ON. He looks like the love child of Johnny 5 and E.T. and if you think Johnny 5 and E.T. never got it on, then you are sorely mistaken. They had a brief, illicit affair in the hills of Montana one summer. Does Montana have hills? IRRELEVANT.
Um. Right. I thought it would be fun to recap an episode of Saved by the Bell, but I didn't get to finish watching the one this morning, because my boss says that I can't call in late to work just because I want to finish watching a TV show. Even if it's Saved by the Bell. If I'd seen the whole episode, though, I'd recap the shit out of it. I don't remember what happens in that one, even though I've seen every episode of Saved by the Bell at least three times. AT LEAST. Remember that time Tori Spelling was on that show? What the hell?
Anyway, so my point is, I saw two movies this weekend. What do you mean that has nothing to do with Saved by the Bell? ZIP YOUR LID. I saw The Dark Knight, which was as amazing as everyone said it would be. I also saw Mamma Mia!, which made me want to rip out my eyeballs and shove them in my ears so I wouldn't have to experience that cinematic Armageddon any longer. Yikes, you guys, that movie was ten shades of awful. It hurts me to say that about a movie Mr. Darcy was in, but that's how bad the movie was. SO BAD. You know what made up for it, though? Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog. I hope you watched it. If you didn't, I hope you had a good excuse, like you were feeding hungry orphans melted chocolate from an eye dropper or something.
Heh. I'm really on edge right now, because they're doing some construction or something downstairs and they're drilling and it sounds like the loudest fart ever. Like, say someone farted so loud that your head exploded? That's how loud the drilling is, only my head hasn't exploded yet because drilling doesn't make heads explode, only farting does.
This morning I watched Saved by the Bell as I was getting ready for work. It was the one where Zach hires Screech to tutor Kelly so Kelly will pass her test and take Zach to see George Michael. That sounds really complicated, doesn't it? No. It doesn't. What's wrong with you? Anyway, Kelly goes over to Screech's house and he has a robot in his room named Kevin who is sort of a rip off of Johnny 5. But then again, so is Wall-E. WHAT? I love Wall-E, too, but COME ON. He looks like the love child of Johnny 5 and E.T. and if you think Johnny 5 and E.T. never got it on, then you are sorely mistaken. They had a brief, illicit affair in the hills of Montana one summer. Does Montana have hills? IRRELEVANT.
Um. Right. I thought it would be fun to recap an episode of Saved by the Bell, but I didn't get to finish watching the one this morning, because my boss says that I can't call in late to work just because I want to finish watching a TV show. Even if it's Saved by the Bell. If I'd seen the whole episode, though, I'd recap the shit out of it. I don't remember what happens in that one, even though I've seen every episode of Saved by the Bell at least three times. AT LEAST. Remember that time Tori Spelling was on that show? What the hell?
Anyway, so my point is, I saw two movies this weekend. What do you mean that has nothing to do with Saved by the Bell? ZIP YOUR LID. I saw The Dark Knight, which was as amazing as everyone said it would be. I also saw Mamma Mia!, which made me want to rip out my eyeballs and shove them in my ears so I wouldn't have to experience that cinematic Armageddon any longer. Yikes, you guys, that movie was ten shades of awful. It hurts me to say that about a movie Mr. Darcy was in, but that's how bad the movie was. SO BAD. You know what made up for it, though? Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog. I hope you watched it. If you didn't, I hope you had a good excuse, like you were feeding hungry orphans melted chocolate from an eye dropper or something.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
you build the ark, I'll gather the animals
The weather the past two days has been extremely, and there's no other word for it, shitty. It rained all day yesterday, from the moment I walked out the door to go to work to when I got in my car at the end of the day to go to volunteering. The sky glared at me all, "WHAT? I'm RAINING! You don't like it? You think I care? WHATEVER, WHATEVER, I DO WHAT I WANT."
I was worried because last night was the final volunteering night before we go on hiatus for the summer, sort of like TV shows and my friend Nancy the Teacher. And on the last night of volunteering, the kids get to do a balloon launch. They write letters to their lost loved ones, tie them to balloons and let them fly, fly away. I'm trying to focus on how happy this makes the kids and not on the fact that once the balloon pops and falls to the Earth, some poor bird is probably going to choke and die on it. Focus on the happy, focus on the happy, look! look! something shiny!
The rain, though? The rain was threatening to KILL the balloon launch. So imagine my delight as I drove to the volunteering site and the sky became clearer and clearer. And as I sat in my car, waiting for someone else to get there and unlock the door (I'm always early), THE SUN CAME OUT. And it stayed out UNTIL WE WERE DONE WITH THE LAUNCH. It was a miracle. A balloon launch miracle. Poor birds.
Unfortunately, as I drove home from volunteering, the sky got angry again. When I got home, Heidi was making a nutritious dinner. I was hungry, too, so I made chips and salsa with M&Ms for dessert. As we sat down to eat, the tornado sirens started. "Le sigh," I thought, and looked longingly at my salsa. So spicy. So delicious. I turned on the news to see a furious, red blotch hovering over our town. Heidi was all, "is it bad?" and I was like, "no, no, it's just a tornado warning," and she said, "um . . . " and I answered, "oh, RIGHT, a tornado warning is the bad one." We don't really have a safe place to go in our apartment since we're on the second floor. Unless we go down to the first floor and cower in the coat closet, but cowering isn't really my thing, especially when I have chips and salsa in front of me. So we just sat on the sofa, ate our dinner, listened to the sirens, and watched the weatherman freak out all over the place.
It was fine. It stormed really badly for the rest of the night. The thunder was so loud that it woke me up (not a great accomplishment) but ALSO, it shook my entire room and made me hide under the covers. I didn't so much sleep as lie half-awake wondering if lightening could strike me through my window. I'm a little worried that this sleep-deprivation is causing hallucinations, because on the way to work I saw someone with an umbrella off in the distance and my first thought was not, "gee, it would suck to have to walk to work in this," it was, "OMG, it's Mary Poppins!"
I was worried because last night was the final volunteering night before we go on hiatus for the summer, sort of like TV shows and my friend Nancy the Teacher. And on the last night of volunteering, the kids get to do a balloon launch. They write letters to their lost loved ones, tie them to balloons and let them fly, fly away. I'm trying to focus on how happy this makes the kids and not on the fact that once the balloon pops and falls to the Earth, some poor bird is probably going to choke and die on it. Focus on the happy, focus on the happy, look! look! something shiny!
The rain, though? The rain was threatening to KILL the balloon launch. So imagine my delight as I drove to the volunteering site and the sky became clearer and clearer. And as I sat in my car, waiting for someone else to get there and unlock the door (I'm always early), THE SUN CAME OUT. And it stayed out UNTIL WE WERE DONE WITH THE LAUNCH. It was a miracle. A balloon launch miracle. Poor birds.
Unfortunately, as I drove home from volunteering, the sky got angry again. When I got home, Heidi was making a nutritious dinner. I was hungry, too, so I made chips and salsa with M&Ms for dessert. As we sat down to eat, the tornado sirens started. "Le sigh," I thought, and looked longingly at my salsa. So spicy. So delicious. I turned on the news to see a furious, red blotch hovering over our town. Heidi was all, "is it bad?" and I was like, "no, no, it's just a tornado warning," and she said, "um . . . " and I answered, "oh, RIGHT, a tornado warning is the bad one." We don't really have a safe place to go in our apartment since we're on the second floor. Unless we go down to the first floor and cower in the coat closet, but cowering isn't really my thing, especially when I have chips and salsa in front of me. So we just sat on the sofa, ate our dinner, listened to the sirens, and watched the weatherman freak out all over the place.
It was fine. It stormed really badly for the rest of the night. The thunder was so loud that it woke me up (not a great accomplishment) but ALSO, it shook my entire room and made me hide under the covers. I didn't so much sleep as lie half-awake wondering if lightening could strike me through my window. I'm a little worried that this sleep-deprivation is causing hallucinations, because on the way to work I saw someone with an umbrella off in the distance and my first thought was not, "gee, it would suck to have to walk to work in this," it was, "OMG, it's Mary Poppins!"
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
how many ADD kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
You guys, my ADD (I don't have ADD) is out of control today. This morning, I forgot if I'd conditioned my hair, I stepped on Phoebe approximately 50 times while I wandered around my room wondering what I was doing, and I put my shirt on backwards. Twice.
Hey! So this week on The Collective, we're interviewing fictional characters. Yesterday, Heather Anne interviewed Neville Longbottom (awesome), today . . . I don't know, because Abigail hasn't posted yet, tomorrow I don't know either, but I suspect I know who Kat's interviewing and Thursday? Um, I have no idea. I've run about a zillion fictional characters through my head and none have really stuck. So, who do you guys think I should interview? Just tell me who to do (that's what she said) so I don't have to think anymore.
Help me, Internets, you're my only hope.
Hey! So this week on The Collective, we're interviewing fictional characters. Yesterday, Heather Anne interviewed Neville Longbottom (awesome), today . . . I don't know, because Abigail hasn't posted yet, tomorrow I don't know either, but I suspect I know who Kat's interviewing and Thursday? Um, I have no idea. I've run about a zillion fictional characters through my head and none have really stuck. So, who do you guys think I should interview? Just tell me who to do (that's what she said) so I don't have to think anymore.
Help me, Internets, you're my only hope.
Monday, April 07, 2008
Charlie Bucket was the luckiest boy in the entire world. He just didn't know it yet.
I give up. Every Sunday night I try to go to bed at a (somewhat) reasonable hour, and every Sunday night I lie there, staring at the ceiling and wishing I was asleep. Last night, I tried so hard, you guys! That's a lie. I was watching Willy Wonka (the new one) on TV. Even though I prefer the old one, that doesn't mean I'm gonna just TURN OFF THE TV when there are Oompa Loompa shenanigans to watch. That's crazy talk.
Hey! How about a Conversation With My Roommate? Sound good? I don't care!
Me: Why are there starving Africans on the front of the coupons this week?
Heidi: They're not starving, they're drinking Pur water.
Me: I didn't realize starving Africans were so into name brands.
Heidi: Duh. Anyway, those aren't starving Africans. That baby is Angelina Jolie's kid.
Me: WOW. I can't talk to you anymore.
LATER
Heidi: Guess what I watched earlier?
Me: What?
Heidi: The Prince and Me.
Me: . . .
Heidi: 2.
Me: Oh my god.
Heidi: I know.
Me: It was bad enough before you added the 2.
Heidi: Yeah, well.
Me: It's OK, I watched part of The Cutting Edge 3 the other day.
Heidi: Wow.
Me: I know.
I forgot to tell you guys this, and I can't believe I did because it was HILARIOUS. Saturday night, we were standing outside (next to a sex shop, no less), waiting to get into Bogarts and this guy was going down the line asking for change. He's not important, though. I'm not sure why I even told you about him. Forget I said anything. Anyway, there was another guy in a wheelchair and he has a sign that said, "Give me some change or I'll kick you in the face," and at first I was like, "well, that's rude," but it turns out he didn't have any legs.
And now for some sad news. Remember a long time ago when I bought all that crap at Target that had The Office all over it? Here. Let me show you it. Well. They frisked us as we went into Bogarts (I felt violated) and then this lady went through my purse. She found a pen and she was like, "you can take this back to your car or we can throw it away." At first I was all, "throw it away," but then I saw it was my Michael Scott pen and I had to think about it. In the end, I told her to throw it away because the car was far away and I just wanted to go inside and get a beer and see Spoon. I cried a little. On the inside, though, where no one can see your tears. Apparently you can use a pen as a weapon, I guess, which I wasn't aware of. Until this (tall) douchebag in front of me started dancing around bumping into people and then I realized if I had my pen I probably would have stabbed him in the neck. So really that lady who threw my pen away saved me from 7-10 years in prison. Thanks, lady.
Hey! How about a Conversation With My Roommate? Sound good? I don't care!
Me: Why are there starving Africans on the front of the coupons this week?
Heidi: They're not starving, they're drinking Pur water.
Me: I didn't realize starving Africans were so into name brands.
Heidi: Duh. Anyway, those aren't starving Africans. That baby is Angelina Jolie's kid.
Me: WOW. I can't talk to you anymore.
LATER
Heidi: Guess what I watched earlier?
Me: What?
Heidi: The Prince and Me.
Me: . . .
Heidi: 2.
Me: Oh my god.
Heidi: I know.
Me: It was bad enough before you added the 2.
Heidi: Yeah, well.
Me: It's OK, I watched part of The Cutting Edge 3 the other day.
Heidi: Wow.
Me: I know.
I forgot to tell you guys this, and I can't believe I did because it was HILARIOUS. Saturday night, we were standing outside (next to a sex shop, no less), waiting to get into Bogarts and this guy was going down the line asking for change. He's not important, though. I'm not sure why I even told you about him. Forget I said anything. Anyway, there was another guy in a wheelchair and he has a sign that said, "Give me some change or I'll kick you in the face," and at first I was like, "well, that's rude," but it turns out he didn't have any legs.
And now for some sad news. Remember a long time ago when I bought all that crap at Target that had The Office all over it? Here. Let me show you it. Well. They frisked us as we went into Bogarts (I felt violated) and then this lady went through my purse. She found a pen and she was like, "you can take this back to your car or we can throw it away." At first I was all, "throw it away," but then I saw it was my Michael Scott pen and I had to think about it. In the end, I told her to throw it away because the car was far away and I just wanted to go inside and get a beer and see Spoon. I cried a little. On the inside, though, where no one can see your tears. Apparently you can use a pen as a weapon, I guess, which I wasn't aware of. Until this (tall) douchebag in front of me started dancing around bumping into people and then I realized if I had my pen I probably would have stabbed him in the neck. So really that lady who threw my pen away saved me from 7-10 years in prison. Thanks, lady.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
in this house we obey the laws of thermodynamics!
I have the same routine every morning. EVERY MORNING. Except weekends, of course, which are routine-free because I'm lucky and don't have kids. Yesterday, I got up 15 minutes later than I normally do AND I shaved my legs AND I had to remove 138 inches of snow from my car and I was perfectly on time. This morning, I got up at my normal time, didn't do anything extra like, say . . . give myself a perm or run five miles, and I was running late. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? I have to wonder if someone is messing with the space time continuum or something. Come to think of it, I DID see a De Lorean in the parking lot yesterday. And some bushy-haired, Einstein-looking fella in a lab coat was digging through the dumpster. Hmm.
Anyway, I don't know what it was that I did that caused me to be late. I already knew what I was going to wear and the snow came off my car super quick, so it wasn't either of those things. I did notice that I'm extra confused today. For instance, I was standing in the shower, getting ready to condition my hair. The bottle was tipped, ready to dispense conditioner, when I stopped and thought, "something is not right . . . what is it . . . hmm." I stood there with the bottle sideways for a couple of minutes, still as an Albert Einstein statue, only not sitting down and not made of poo and also not wearing sandals, and then I realized that the bottle of conditioner I was holding was NOT, in fact, conditioner. It was, however, body wash. That could have been disastrous. For real. The thing is, I worry about mixing up my conditioner and body wash EVERY DAY because they are in very similar bottles. That's why I keep them on opposite ends of the shower. Only, in the morning, my brain? It doesn't work so well. So I always forget which is which and I make sure to check the label like five times before I use either bottle. Except this morning. But some force greater than myself must have been watching out for me. Or my hair anyway.
THE REASON I'm so confused today could have something to do with staying up late reading. And also watching America's Next Top Model. Don't you judge me. There was an episode on VH1 last night that I've never seen before. CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT? That never happens. Never ever. And as I sat there in bed listening to Mr. Jay explain the next challenge, my book half concealing the TV, I got an idea. What if someone wrote a book about a reality show called . . . Who Wants to Be a Fierce Model? And the host was named Lyra Skanks. And she had judges named Jane Hendrickson and Wiggy and Miss Elle and Neil Blocker. These parts aren't important so much, what is important is that Lyra Skanks is a vapid, self-centered narcissist who LOOOOOVES to hear herself talk and NOT ONLY does she think she is the savior of the modeling world but she also thinks she's the next Oprah. And she doesn't realize that Tidy Bloom's show about fashion designers is so much better than hers, partly because of Tidy Bloom's awesome accent, but mostly because of Jim Funn. And everyone hates her but they're afraid to say they hate her because she might be bipolar. And a sneaky woman, let's call her Sneaky Woman, who just happens to be tall and beautiful and FIERCE, decides to go on Who Wants to Be a Fierce Model? and WIN dammit! at any cost. And she does win and when Lyra says, "America's Next Top Model is . . . I mean, the person who wants to be a Fierce Model IS . . . Sneaky Woman!" And then the runner-up does that smile where she's trying not to cry but you can totally tell she wants to rip the winner's face off? You know the one I mean. But wait! Sneaky Woman is just standing there. She hasn't fallen on the floor. She hasn't burst into tears. She hasn't run around the room, screaming her good luck to the heavens and the world and, most of all, fashion. Oh no. She's just standing there calmly with her hands clasped behind her back.
Lyra approaches Sneaky Woman. "Sneaky Woman," she says. "Why are you not crying and bowing and kissing my feet?"
"Because, Lyra," Sneaky Woman says. "I don't want to be your Fierce Model."
And Lyra would be all, "you're a quitter and Lyra doesn't like quitters," and Sneaky Woman would be all, "suck it, Lyra, I don't want your stupid crown," and Lyra would pass out and hit her head and get amnesia and Sneaky Woman would take over the show. And also she'd give everyone in the world a free puppy.
THE END.
Anyway, I don't know what it was that I did that caused me to be late. I already knew what I was going to wear and the snow came off my car super quick, so it wasn't either of those things. I did notice that I'm extra confused today. For instance, I was standing in the shower, getting ready to condition my hair. The bottle was tipped, ready to dispense conditioner, when I stopped and thought, "something is not right . . . what is it . . . hmm." I stood there with the bottle sideways for a couple of minutes, still as an Albert Einstein statue, only not sitting down and not made of poo and also not wearing sandals, and then I realized that the bottle of conditioner I was holding was NOT, in fact, conditioner. It was, however, body wash. That could have been disastrous. For real. The thing is, I worry about mixing up my conditioner and body wash EVERY DAY because they are in very similar bottles. That's why I keep them on opposite ends of the shower. Only, in the morning, my brain? It doesn't work so well. So I always forget which is which and I make sure to check the label like five times before I use either bottle. Except this morning. But some force greater than myself must have been watching out for me. Or my hair anyway.
THE REASON I'm so confused today could have something to do with staying up late reading. And also watching America's Next Top Model. Don't you judge me. There was an episode on VH1 last night that I've never seen before. CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT? That never happens. Never ever. And as I sat there in bed listening to Mr. Jay explain the next challenge, my book half concealing the TV, I got an idea. What if someone wrote a book about a reality show called . . . Who Wants to Be a Fierce Model? And the host was named Lyra Skanks. And she had judges named Jane Hendrickson and Wiggy and Miss Elle and Neil Blocker. These parts aren't important so much, what is important is that Lyra Skanks is a vapid, self-centered narcissist who LOOOOOVES to hear herself talk and NOT ONLY does she think she is the savior of the modeling world but she also thinks she's the next Oprah. And she doesn't realize that Tidy Bloom's show about fashion designers is so much better than hers, partly because of Tidy Bloom's awesome accent, but mostly because of Jim Funn. And everyone hates her but they're afraid to say they hate her because she might be bipolar. And a sneaky woman, let's call her Sneaky Woman, who just happens to be tall and beautiful and FIERCE, decides to go on Who Wants to Be a Fierce Model? and WIN dammit! at any cost. And she does win and when Lyra says, "America's Next Top Model is . . . I mean, the person who wants to be a Fierce Model IS . . . Sneaky Woman!" And then the runner-up does that smile where she's trying not to cry but you can totally tell she wants to rip the winner's face off? You know the one I mean. But wait! Sneaky Woman is just standing there. She hasn't fallen on the floor. She hasn't burst into tears. She hasn't run around the room, screaming her good luck to the heavens and the world and, most of all, fashion. Oh no. She's just standing there calmly with her hands clasped behind her back.
Lyra approaches Sneaky Woman. "Sneaky Woman," she says. "Why are you not crying and bowing and kissing my feet?"
"Because, Lyra," Sneaky Woman says. "I don't want to be your Fierce Model."
And Lyra would be all, "you're a quitter and Lyra doesn't like quitters," and Sneaky Woman would be all, "suck it, Lyra, I don't want your stupid crown," and Lyra would pass out and hit her head and get amnesia and Sneaky Woman would take over the show. And also she'd give everyone in the world a free puppy.
THE END.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
There are several penises there I’d love Phyllis to run her eyes over.
It's like . . . OK, sometimes I worry that I've run out of things to talk about on my blog. And then I go to lunch and this guy in a truck cuts me off and after I wave my middle finger at him I notice that he has something odd hanging from his truck:
Do you see the red thing? It's kind of small (that's what she said) so I drew a picture of what it is:
He had balls hanging from his truck. BALLS! HANGING BALLS! Also, Ohio license plates are way fugly.
Do you see the red thing? It's kind of small (that's what she said) so I drew a picture of what it is:
He had balls hanging from his truck. BALLS! HANGING BALLS! Also, Ohio license plates are way fugly.
Friday, September 28, 2007
I was able to be on the scene so quickly because I was in the car that hit her.
I think I watched more TV last night than I have in like a month. Truly. Also, I think I ate more junk food than I have in the past month, too. Pizza! Cookies! OK, that was it, but whatever.
Heidi and I got pizza for dinner and settled down to watch a bunch of TV. We started with America's Next Top Model, moved onto The Real World, and then took a break to go buy cookies because I wouldn't stop talking about CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES and we sure as hell weren't going to MAKE them. Anyway, we didn't have milk so we had to go to the store. You see the logic? Good.
So on the way home from the store, there was the craziest conversation with my roommate ever. So crazy, in fact, that I'm not even going to try to recreate it because there's no way I can do it justice. We did talk about the fact that Heidi writes down everything that I say in a secret diary to use against me later. Because I kept talking about how I don't want kids and she said that in 10 years when I'm pregnant with my 18th child (ok?), she's going to pull it out and be all, "Remember when we were 25 and you said you didn't want kids? Well, I have it right here." And I am telling you RIGHT NOW that the only way I'm going to end up with 18 kids is if I go the Angelina Jolie route and just adopt one from every country or something. They are not coming out of my vagina. No way. Did you know you poop in front of people while you're in labor? NO THANK YOU TO THAT.
Also, she told me she hopes I marry someone with the last name "Dixon" so she can call me "Dix." That statement would probably make more sense if I tell you that almost every one of my friends call me "Bax." Which is short for my last name. I have had so many nicknames in my lifetime that I sometimes forget my real name. True story.
Also, other stuff happened, but I can't remember it right now. When we got home, we made cookies (duh) and they were delicious, especially because we ate them while they were still warm and gooey. Then we watched Ugly Betty. I've seen like two episodes total of that show and I don't know that Heidi has ever seen it so we really had no idea what was going on, but it was SO GOOD you guys. So good! I forget why I never watched it before. Oh, right, because it was on at the same time as The Office. I would talk about The Office now, but it made me so happy that I think if I talk about it too much my head might explode so I'll just say I liked it a whole lot and also I love PB&J and that is all.
Then we watched Grey's Anatomy. Eh.
I have decided that I'm going to listen to The Shins all day today. All Shins All Day! Chutes too Narrow, Oh Inverted World, Wincing the Night Away, MAYBE even the Garden State soundtrack. CAN YOU FEEL THE EXCITEMENT? Actually, I'm starting with Wincing the Night Away so I may not get to the rest of them. And that's OK. Dear self, stop babbling.
Oh, and Mom? I was thinking about it and I figured out that it isn't The Shins you don't like, because I remembered you said the song you didn't like was called "everybody something," and I'm fairly certain The Shins don't sing a song called "everybody something" and also if they do sing a song called "everybody something" I'm pretty sure I've never linked to it on my blog, so even though YOU SAID you don't like The Shins, I think in IN FACT what you meant was you don't like REM. So you might like The Shins (this is them) but if you don't like REM, I still might have to disown you. Sorry, but you brought this on yourself. Although, I haven't disowned you and dad for liking Two and a Half Men, so I might be able to overlook this.
Dear self, I believe I told you to stop babbling. Because WOW.
Heidi and I got pizza for dinner and settled down to watch a bunch of TV. We started with America's Next Top Model, moved onto The Real World, and then took a break to go buy cookies because I wouldn't stop talking about CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES and we sure as hell weren't going to MAKE them. Anyway, we didn't have milk so we had to go to the store. You see the logic? Good.
So on the way home from the store, there was the craziest conversation with my roommate ever. So crazy, in fact, that I'm not even going to try to recreate it because there's no way I can do it justice. We did talk about the fact that Heidi writes down everything that I say in a secret diary to use against me later. Because I kept talking about how I don't want kids and she said that in 10 years when I'm pregnant with my 18th child (ok?), she's going to pull it out and be all, "Remember when we were 25 and you said you didn't want kids? Well, I have it right here." And I am telling you RIGHT NOW that the only way I'm going to end up with 18 kids is if I go the Angelina Jolie route and just adopt one from every country or something. They are not coming out of my vagina. No way. Did you know you poop in front of people while you're in labor? NO THANK YOU TO THAT.
Also, she told me she hopes I marry someone with the last name "Dixon" so she can call me "Dix." That statement would probably make more sense if I tell you that almost every one of my friends call me "Bax." Which is short for my last name. I have had so many nicknames in my lifetime that I sometimes forget my real name. True story.
Also, other stuff happened, but I can't remember it right now. When we got home, we made cookies (duh) and they were delicious, especially because we ate them while they were still warm and gooey. Then we watched Ugly Betty. I've seen like two episodes total of that show and I don't know that Heidi has ever seen it so we really had no idea what was going on, but it was SO GOOD you guys. So good! I forget why I never watched it before. Oh, right, because it was on at the same time as The Office. I would talk about The Office now, but it made me so happy that I think if I talk about it too much my head might explode so I'll just say I liked it a whole lot and also I love PB&J and that is all.
Then we watched Grey's Anatomy. Eh.
I have decided that I'm going to listen to The Shins all day today. All Shins All Day! Chutes too Narrow, Oh Inverted World, Wincing the Night Away, MAYBE even the Garden State soundtrack. CAN YOU FEEL THE EXCITEMENT? Actually, I'm starting with Wincing the Night Away so I may not get to the rest of them. And that's OK. Dear self, stop babbling.
Oh, and Mom? I was thinking about it and I figured out that it isn't The Shins you don't like, because I remembered you said the song you didn't like was called "everybody something," and I'm fairly certain The Shins don't sing a song called "everybody something" and also if they do sing a song called "everybody something" I'm pretty sure I've never linked to it on my blog, so even though YOU SAID you don't like The Shins, I think in IN FACT what you meant was you don't like REM. So you might like The Shins (this is them) but if you don't like REM, I still might have to disown you. Sorry, but you brought this on yourself. Although, I haven't disowned you and dad for liking Two and a Half Men, so I might be able to overlook this.
Dear self, I believe I told you to stop babbling. Because WOW.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
She is electric, can I be electric too?
Look at how big of a dork (not a whale penis) I am:
Also this:
I wrote myself that note because I went running by myself again last night BUT I got smarter. Because Heidi wasn't home and I wanted someone to know where I had gone in case I never came home because I was kidnapped by pirates or ninjas or space gorillas, I called my parents and said if I didn't call back in an hour, they should start to worry. I bet parents love calls like that. I felt kind of bad, like I ruined that hour of their night because they were sitting there all "gee, I wonder if the space gorillas have shown Jennie how to use their teleporter yet," but from what I understand about parents, they pretty much worry about their kids all the time, right? Whether or not they are in danger of abduction by ninja.
Heidi and I have been talking about painting our apartment since, well, we moved in. I think she got tired of waiting for me, because she has painted both her bathroom and her bedroom in the past month or so, and now I feel like a big slacker doo-doo head (nothing new there). So I've been thinking I want to paint my room. I'm not sure I'm going to bother with my bathroom. Maybe. I don't know. What I DO know? Is that these are the coolest things I have ever seen and I am coveting them SO HARD right now.
So I've decided to paint (right this minute, actually) and also I've decided I want to rearrange my room. Because it has been the same since I moved in. The problem with both of these plans is that I want to do it RIGHT NOW and I can't because, um, I'm at work? And I don't think my boss will understand that I need to go home because, even though I procrastinate A LOT, when I finally decide I want to do something, I want to do it RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE OR MY HEAD JUST MIGHT EXPLODE. True story. Also, apparently I can't do anything without telling the Internets about it first. Anyway, if anyone has any suggestions for paint color, please look at my bedroom and feel free to tell me what to do. Don't feel obligated to match to the bedspread because I need to get a new one. The one I have now is all ripped down the side. This either happened in the washing machine or I've been having night terrors and ripping up my sheets in my sleep. Anyway. Please, Internets, do my thinking for me. Also, I hope you all realize that by the time I get home tonight, I may have completely changed my mind about both the painting and the rearranging when I realize how much work they're going to involve.
Also this:
I wrote myself that note because I went running by myself again last night BUT I got smarter. Because Heidi wasn't home and I wanted someone to know where I had gone in case I never came home because I was kidnapped by pirates or ninjas or space gorillas, I called my parents and said if I didn't call back in an hour, they should start to worry. I bet parents love calls like that. I felt kind of bad, like I ruined that hour of their night because they were sitting there all "gee, I wonder if the space gorillas have shown Jennie how to use their teleporter yet," but from what I understand about parents, they pretty much worry about their kids all the time, right? Whether or not they are in danger of abduction by ninja.
Heidi and I have been talking about painting our apartment since, well, we moved in. I think she got tired of waiting for me, because she has painted both her bathroom and her bedroom in the past month or so, and now I feel like a big slacker doo-doo head (nothing new there). So I've been thinking I want to paint my room. I'm not sure I'm going to bother with my bathroom. Maybe. I don't know. What I DO know? Is that these are the coolest things I have ever seen and I am coveting them SO HARD right now.
So I've decided to paint (right this minute, actually) and also I've decided I want to rearrange my room. Because it has been the same since I moved in. The problem with both of these plans is that I want to do it RIGHT NOW and I can't because, um, I'm at work? And I don't think my boss will understand that I need to go home because, even though I procrastinate A LOT, when I finally decide I want to do something, I want to do it RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE OR MY HEAD JUST MIGHT EXPLODE. True story. Also, apparently I can't do anything without telling the Internets about it first. Anyway, if anyone has any suggestions for paint color, please look at my bedroom and feel free to tell me what to do. Don't feel obligated to match to the bedspread because I need to get a new one. The one I have now is all ripped down the side. This either happened in the washing machine or I've been having night terrors and ripping up my sheets in my sleep. Anyway. Please, Internets, do my thinking for me. Also, I hope you all realize that by the time I get home tonight, I may have completely changed my mind about both the painting and the rearranging when I realize how much work they're going to involve.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Hi, I'm Chandler and I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable
YOU GUYS. Check this out:
Book Inscriptions
I'm totally published.
ALSO. It's hot outside. I don't like to sweat in my work clothes. Those clothes are not for sweating. These are the clothes for sweating: shorts, tank tops, t-shirts, sports bra, no clothes. That is all.
AND ALSO. When I got home from work just now, there was a hot guy in our apartment parking lot. I've never seen Hot Guy before, but he was hot and he was wearing a suit and he was carrying a man bag, but not like a girly man bag, like a Jim Halpert man bag. I felt like I should have asked Hot Guy in for a cold beverage, because wearing a suit must have been miserable, but he was on the phone. Actually, he was standing next to his car with the door open and when I pulled into the parking spot, I almost hit him and took his door off. Oops, but it was his fault, really, for standing there with his door open being all hot and distracting me. I mean, he almost made me forget the wine in my car and that would have been a tragedy indeed. I got wine because of this cellular phone device Conversation With My Roommate:
Me: HEIDI.
Heidi: Yes?
Me: I have several important questions for you.
Heidi: OK.
Me: One! Do you want to skip the gym tonight?
Heidi: Haha, YES.
Me: OK, good. Two! Do you want me to stop and get a bottle of wine on the way home?
Heidi: Um, of course.
Me: Awesome, because I am feeling the need to drink and drink until I never wake up.
Heidi: Wow, that's not good.
Me: Today was the LONGEST. DAY. EVER. Anyway, QUESTION THREE, do you want to have Papa Murphy's for dinner?
Heidi: YES.
So that happened. Do you all have Papa Murphy's? If not, then I feel sorry for you. It's take and bake (and I helped hahahahaha oh god, sorry). Anyway, you go there, they make the pizza while you watch and then you take it home and cook it. It's delicious and even better? It's so cheap. Cheap and easy. Just like your mom. Hahahahaha oh god, sorry.
But seriously, wtf, this is the longest week I have ever been a part of. It could be because we've had visitors in our office all week and I have to be nice to them and being nice is hard. Or that we had training yesterday and today. Or MAYBE it's because I'm so fucking tired. And the REASON I'm so fucking tired is because I have inexplicably woken up an hour before my alarm EACH AND EVERY DAY THIS WEEK and then I just lie there NOT SLEEPING. Until like three minutes before my alarm goes off so I hit snooze 19 times and then I'm late for work. Only I haven't been late to work, which is odd, because sometimes when I get up early and have all the time in the world, I'm still late to work. I don't know.
So I have to go to the lady doctor tomorrow. What a GREAT way to start my weekend. I'm really, really looking forward to having my vagina put on display and being poked and prodded with metal instruments. It's awesome. Those of you with vaginas know what I'm talking about. If this paragraph is offending you then you're probably not going to want to read what I write after tomorrow's appointment. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Book Inscriptions
I'm totally published.
ALSO. It's hot outside. I don't like to sweat in my work clothes. Those clothes are not for sweating. These are the clothes for sweating: shorts, tank tops, t-shirts, sports bra, no clothes. That is all.
AND ALSO. When I got home from work just now, there was a hot guy in our apartment parking lot. I've never seen Hot Guy before, but he was hot and he was wearing a suit and he was carrying a man bag, but not like a girly man bag, like a Jim Halpert man bag. I felt like I should have asked Hot Guy in for a cold beverage, because wearing a suit must have been miserable, but he was on the phone. Actually, he was standing next to his car with the door open and when I pulled into the parking spot, I almost hit him and took his door off. Oops, but it was his fault, really, for standing there with his door open being all hot and distracting me. I mean, he almost made me forget the wine in my car and that would have been a tragedy indeed. I got wine because of this cellular phone device Conversation With My Roommate:
Me: HEIDI.
Heidi: Yes?
Me: I have several important questions for you.
Heidi: OK.
Me: One! Do you want to skip the gym tonight?
Heidi: Haha, YES.
Me: OK, good. Two! Do you want me to stop and get a bottle of wine on the way home?
Heidi: Um, of course.
Me: Awesome, because I am feeling the need to drink and drink until I never wake up.
Heidi: Wow, that's not good.
Me: Today was the LONGEST. DAY. EVER. Anyway, QUESTION THREE, do you want to have Papa Murphy's for dinner?
Heidi: YES.
So that happened. Do you all have Papa Murphy's? If not, then I feel sorry for you. It's take and bake (and I helped hahahahaha oh god, sorry). Anyway, you go there, they make the pizza while you watch and then you take it home and cook it. It's delicious and even better? It's so cheap. Cheap and easy. Just like your mom. Hahahahaha oh god, sorry.
But seriously, wtf, this is the longest week I have ever been a part of. It could be because we've had visitors in our office all week and I have to be nice to them and being nice is hard. Or that we had training yesterday and today. Or MAYBE it's because I'm so fucking tired. And the REASON I'm so fucking tired is because I have inexplicably woken up an hour before my alarm EACH AND EVERY DAY THIS WEEK and then I just lie there NOT SLEEPING. Until like three minutes before my alarm goes off so I hit snooze 19 times and then I'm late for work. Only I haven't been late to work, which is odd, because sometimes when I get up early and have all the time in the world, I'm still late to work. I don't know.
So I have to go to the lady doctor tomorrow. What a GREAT way to start my weekend. I'm really, really looking forward to having my vagina put on display and being poked and prodded with metal instruments. It's awesome. Those of you with vaginas know what I'm talking about. If this paragraph is offending you then you're probably not going to want to read what I write after tomorrow's appointment. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Cage matches? Yeah, they work. How could they not work? If they didn’t work, everybody would still be in the cage.
You guys, I am in trouble. I grounded myself. I am grounded from going anywhere other than the gym this weekend. Also, maybe the pool if the weather shapes up and behaves itself. Stupid weather.
The reason I am grounded? I am SO. FAR. BEHIND. on my articles, it's not even funny. It's not. Try laughing. I dare you. You can't do it because, as previously mentioned, it's not even funny. I got home like an hour ago and I haven't gotten any work done yet, but I HAVE listened to the radio and called Heidi and changed into my gym clothes. So. Suck it.
Quick question. Can cats back up? The reason I ask is, Bo just crawled in between my dresser and the wall and it's pretty goddamn tight back there and there's NO WAY OUT on the other end so I think he's either going to have to back up or I'm going to have to move the dresser and the dresser is heavy but if I had to move the whole dresser maybe I could call it a workout and skip the gym. Never mind, he's out. Somehow he turned around. I have no idea how. Maybe he is a magical cat from the land of Narnia or Hogwarts or New Jersey. The end.
On the way home from work I heard this song on the radio. I used to know all the words and would sing it (drunkenly) at parties or the bar in college. Good times. Between that and obnoxiously bellowing Kelly Clarkson, could I BE more annoying? Chandler out.
In other song news, this is my new favorite song to work out to. It makes me happy. And want to run faster. Win win (win).
Man, I thought of all this stuff to tell you guys while I was at work today and now I can't remember any of it. Oh well.
Did your grandma ever used to say this to you?
There once was a girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was very very good, but when she was bad she was horrid.
Cause mine did. All the time.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pout and sigh heavily in front of the mirror so I can see how upset my punishment has made me.
The reason I am grounded? I am SO. FAR. BEHIND. on my articles, it's not even funny. It's not. Try laughing. I dare you. You can't do it because, as previously mentioned, it's not even funny. I got home like an hour ago and I haven't gotten any work done yet, but I HAVE listened to the radio and called Heidi and changed into my gym clothes. So. Suck it.
Quick question. Can cats back up? The reason I ask is, Bo just crawled in between my dresser and the wall and it's pretty goddamn tight back there and there's NO WAY OUT on the other end so I think he's either going to have to back up or I'm going to have to move the dresser and the dresser is heavy but if I had to move the whole dresser maybe I could call it a workout and skip the gym. Never mind, he's out. Somehow he turned around. I have no idea how. Maybe he is a magical cat from the land of Narnia or Hogwarts or New Jersey. The end.
On the way home from work I heard this song on the radio. I used to know all the words and would sing it (drunkenly) at parties or the bar in college. Good times. Between that and obnoxiously bellowing Kelly Clarkson, could I BE more annoying? Chandler out.
In other song news, this is my new favorite song to work out to. It makes me happy. And want to run faster. Win win (win).
Man, I thought of all this stuff to tell you guys while I was at work today and now I can't remember any of it. Oh well.
Did your grandma ever used to say this to you?
There once was a girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was very very good, but when she was bad she was horrid.
Cause mine did. All the time.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pout and sigh heavily in front of the mirror so I can see how upset my punishment has made me.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
apples: nature's candy
This is the email I just sent Heidi:
Agreed, my friend. Agreed. So I’m eating an apple and it’s really juicy and some juice got on my leg. I don’t care though because apples are delicious. I would eat one every day if I could. That’s a lot of stem twisting, though, so I’d probably get tired. Stem twisting sounds kind of dirty.
So along with being borderline bipolar, I'm also apparently exhibiting signs of ADD. Nothing new there.
Agreed, my friend. Agreed. So I’m eating an apple and it’s really juicy and some juice got on my leg. I don’t care though because apples are delicious. I would eat one every day if I could. That’s a lot of stem twisting, though, so I’d probably get tired. Stem twisting sounds kind of dirty.
So along with being borderline bipolar, I'm also apparently exhibiting signs of ADD. Nothing new there.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
I'm good at it, I've mastered it, avoiding avoiding everything.
I'm a list-maker. I find them comforting. I can't pack for a trip without one and it's very satisfying to be able to put a thick, dark line through something I've finished. My problem is that, like with everything else in my life, I put off making a list because once I see all those uncompleted tasks in front of me, I get very depressed and want to throw it away and pretend the only thing I need to be doing is watching reruns of The Office.
However, since I am now (over) a quarter of a century old, I have decided that I need to get my life in order. The things I can control anyway. It's funny, I'm a bit of a control freak (heh, a bit), but there are so many little tasks I let go until they seem insurmountable, so then I live in a magical land of denial and pretend those tasks either don't exist or completed themselves without me. I guess I'm only a control freak about the things I really have no control over and I don't know if you know this but that is pretty damn frustrating.
ALSO. Heidi and I, for different reasons, are both in need of distraction, and since it's summer and there's not much on TV, we've decided to distract ourselves with the gym. I'm not sure how that's going to work. I mean, I'm all for distraction, but I wouldn't put it past me to get distracted by something shiny on the way to the gym and forget to work out altogether. In any case, at least I'll be able to cross "distract self" off my list.
Look at me, pretending to be a grown-up.
However, since I am now (over) a quarter of a century old, I have decided that I need to get my life in order. The things I can control anyway. It's funny, I'm a bit of a control freak (heh, a bit), but there are so many little tasks I let go until they seem insurmountable, so then I live in a magical land of denial and pretend those tasks either don't exist or completed themselves without me. I guess I'm only a control freak about the things I really have no control over and I don't know if you know this but that is pretty damn frustrating.
ALSO. Heidi and I, for different reasons, are both in need of distraction, and since it's summer and there's not much on TV, we've decided to distract ourselves with the gym. I'm not sure how that's going to work. I mean, I'm all for distraction, but I wouldn't put it past me to get distracted by something shiny on the way to the gym and forget to work out altogether. In any case, at least I'll be able to cross "distract self" off my list.
Look at me, pretending to be a grown-up.
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