listenin' too long, to one song

QUESTION: What do you guys listen to when you're running? I think I need some new running music. My most favorite song EVER to run to is Sing Me Spanish Techno. If that helps. With the recommending. PLEASE RECOMMEND SOMETHING. If you don't, I fear that soon I will stop running and fall to my knees on the sidewalk and just cry.

Speaking of music (wow, nice segue, Jennie), I went to a concert this weekend and it rocked my face off. My whole face. Fell off. Onto the floor. And then I picked it up and washed it off, because gross, it fell on the floor at a concert. Anyway, We Are Scientists were the ones responsible for my face falling on the floor. I'd be upset, but it was a really good show.

You know what happened, though? I spilled my beer. I mean, this is not unusual. It happens a lot, actually. But this time, it so wasn't my fault. I was just sitting there, minding my own business, when all the sudden my beer bottle was upside down, trapped between my leg and the wall. And I was all, "What the hell? No one was even touching the table! UNFAIR UNFAIR I WANT MY BEER WAAAAAAAAAH." Then I noticed that all of the bottles kept slowly inching toward me and no one was even touching them, because the music was so loud that the table was vibrating, which was making the bottles move AND IT WAS CRAZY. Like Poltergeist crazy, but not really, because no one got sucked into the TV. Anyway. So that happened. Also, we saw this girl slump over a table and throw up on the floor. Amateur. Also also, Kat, they had PBR in cans.

Also also also, this was written in one of the bathroom stalls:



and I didn't even write it.

A is for Ass

Heather Anne stole from Kat and now I am stealing from both of them. Only they're doing this alphabet thing beautifully and I'm about to make it juvenile and crass. It's just what I do.

When I was in elementary school, I liked the word "ass" because I'd say it and then, just as I was about to get in trouble, I was be all, "Nuh-uh, you misunderstood me, I was talking about a DONKEY . . . you ass."

Here I am, all alone, wondering what went wrong. Did we ever have a chance?

You guys! I am so! excited! for the Olympics. At first I was all, "Olympics YAWN," because does it SOUND that exciting? Fuck yes, it does!

Ahem. So, yes. I'm excited for that to start tomorrow. I may get a teeny bit obsessed, so if you DON'T like the Olympics (what's wrong with you?), don't say I didn't give you fair warning.

I'll have you know that today I successfully resisted an invitation to Chipotle. I swear, the people in my office go out to lunch almost every day and I just can't do that, or I'd weigh 400 pounds and my checking account would have -400 dollars in it. Both of these things would be a problem. It makes it easier to save money when I know I have to. For instance, next weekend I'm driving to Cleveland to take part in a bachelorette party for my dear friend Amy. It didn't occur to me until just now that the only person that I will know there is Amy. The fact that I am not freaking out about this shows just how far I've come over the past couple of years. Besides, there are going to be cocktails and after a few of those, I'm everyone's friend.

I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to talk about Saved by the Bell again. No, you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry at all. This morning? It was the episode where they're all in a band and Casey Kasem is doing that Behind the Music special. AWESOME. First of all, the name of their band is Friends Forever. Worst band name ever? Possibly. Second of all, what? They're in a band? And they're famous? And where the hell is Jessie in all of this?

Whatever. I got to thinking that Saved by the Bell would have been a much better show if it had been a drama. OK, probably not, but think of the possibilities. Because, isn't Zack loaded? Come to think of it, Lisa's rich, too. And Jessie lives next door to Zack AND her dad owns a hotel, so she's got money, too. I think the only one who didn't have money was Kelly. That's why she couldn't go to the prom that one time. And had to work at The Max. So if the show had been a drama, Kelly totally would have been the outcast who got pregnant junior year and had to have an abortion. And Slater would have turned out to be gay, but he'd be afraid to tell anyone because the wrestling team wouldn't want to wrestle with him anymore. Maybe he got Kelly pregnant! To prove he wasn't gay! What a bastard.

You know, on the old mariners maps, the cartographers would designate uncharted territory by writing "here be monsters."

We watched the most depressing movie ever last night. Not as depressing as Gone, Baby, Gone, but still depressing. Maybe depressing is the wrong word. It was more like . . . I don't know, one of those movies that makes me lose all faith in humanity. Sort of like . . . Gone, Baby, Gone. Hmm. Maybe depressing IS the right word.

Anyway, the movie was Cassandra's Dream and it made me lose more faith in humanity than even Match Point did. Thanks, Woody Allen! Oh, and just as a warning, HERE BE SPOILERS:

So. There are these two brothers, right? Ewan McGregor and Colin Farrell. Ewan McGregor is a man-whore who wants to be all rich so he pretends he's all rich in an attempt to get into this Kate Beckinsale-y woman's knickers. Colin Farrell is a drunk who is addicted to gambling and in one night loses 90 THOUSAND POUNDS. Yeah. That's right. They have a mysterious Uncle Howard who is loaded and they decide to ask him for lots and lots of money. Which is totally cool with Howard, but he wants a little something in return this time. Nothing big. He just wants them to kill this guy who is going to testify that he is a rotten, rotten bastard. Easy, right? So, I'm thinking, "Hey, they probably won't kill that guy . . . they're not very smart, but they seem like nice boys." I should have known better. I didn't think that one dude was going to kill Scarlett Johansson either, but he totally did. People are bastards.

Anyway, so they definitely kill that guy. And Colin Farrell starts going a little crazy because I guess murdering someone isn't something you just forget about. He starts drinking and taking pills and talking about going to the police, causing Ewan to freak out more than a little. It was at this point that I looked at Joe and said, "Ewan's going to kill his brother, isn't he?" AND THEN HE TOTALLY STARTS PLANNING TO KILL HIS BROTHER. I don't like it when Ewan McGregor is a rat bastard. He ultimately stops himself from carrying out his MUUUUUUURDER plan, but then they get in a fight and both die anyway. THE END HA HA HAPPY FUN TIMES

QUACK

It stormed so hard last night (this morning?) that the world ended for a few minutes, but don't worry. It was just for a few minutes, not even five minutes, and nothing really bad happens if the world only ends for a few minutes. True story. And by true I mean I don't have any idea what I'm talking about.

It DID storm so hard that the world ended for a couple of traffic lights this morning. What? You think traffic lights don't know they live in the world? You think they don't have feelings? Well, they do. They go red when they're angry, green when they're happy, and yellow when they're constipated. And YES constipated is a feeling. You think they turn colors for any other reason? You're wrong. Deal with it. There's something really disconcerting about a traffic light being completely dark. Mostly because I don't trust other people to not barrel through the intersection and kill me, kill me dead. No one did, though. But since there were two traffic lights that were out and I was on my way to work, I naturally assumed that my office building wouldn't have power when I got there. Because that's logical. Only not, because my office building totally had power and ALSO they expected me to work. PSHAW.

I wish it had been storming last night when Heidi and I decided to go running. But we had to run, for you see, we had Penn Station for dinner. That was the deal. We could have Penn Station, but we had to run. Right as we started, I was all, "didn't we decide not to run anymore after eating Penn Station because it makes us want to vomit?" and Heidi was all, "um, yeah, oops." Um, yeah, oops, indeed. I felt like vomiting after running about five steps, at which point I wanted to be done for the evening, but running five steps doesn't seem beneficial. Although, if I would just start with a five step run and add five steps to my run every day, that'd probably work better than my current running schedule, which is "run a couple miles four times a month and try not to pass out or throw up or die." Ah, well.

I don't think the run helped our stomachs OR our brains, because during our cool down lap around the pond, this happened:

Heidi: I've counted four tennis balls in the pond so far!
Me: Man, those people aren't very good tennis players.
Heidi: Seriously.
Me: Do you think our pink tennis ball is still down there?
Heidi: I hope so. I hope the ducks play with it.
Me: The ducks play tennis?
Heidi: Yeah, they use their bills as tennis rackets.
Me: Plus, they can fly, so that helps.
Heidi: Wanna know how they serve?
Me: YES.
Heidi: They put the ball in their mouth and just throw it.
Me: Wow. Do the ducks play doubles tennis?
Heidi: Totally. They play against the geese.
Me: The geese! I hope the ducks win, I hate the geese!
Heidi: Of course the ducks win. They're the Mighty Ducks.
Me: Awesome.
Heidi: Nine! I counted NINE tennis balls now!

And then were were all, "quack . . . quack . . . quack . . . QUACK . . . QUACK . . . QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK," only not really, but I wish that'd happened. I mean, I don't think it's possible for our neighbors to think we're any weirder. After all, there was that time we threw a spoon in the pond and Heidi's underwear in a tree. Also, that time I got chased by a zombie.

You wait 'til next year's chair catalogue comes out and find someone who's still alive

On Saturday, I went to Ikea with one objective: to find new dinnerware. Also, cups. Also, a toothbrush holder. Oh, and also maybe a picture to hang in the living room.

I did not find any of these things. Well, I found some little juice glasses. And some cards with rubber duckie faces on them that cost more than the juice glasses. All in all, I waited in a 900 foot line to buy three things for a grand total of $14.00.

Ikea, I am not impressed. I LOOOOOOOVED Ikea when we went to the one in Schaumberg. I wouldn't shut up about it. Here, let me show you the not shutting up. However, when we went to the Ikea in Schaumberg, I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I just gazed in wonder at the array of household crap laid out before me. This leads me to believe that Ikea is a much more pleasurable experience when you're NOT actually looking for something. Or the Ikea in West Chester just sucks. Either way, I was sort of bummed UNTIL . . .

I realized that we'd be driving through Mason. And Mason is where McAlister's Deli is. I used to get McAlister's all the time when I worked in Mason, but there aren't any of those around Dayton because Dayton hates me. Anyway, I knew it was off a certain exit, but I couldn't remember exactly where it was because I am directionally handicapped. We got off the exit and it went something like this:

Me: I don't think it's on this road.
Joe: OK, we'll find it.
Me: It might be on this whole other road.
Joe: Let's just keep driving.
Me: OK. I don't see it. Hey, there's Ruby Tuesday! "Gooooooodbye, Ruby Tuesday . . ."
Joe: Are those the only words you know?
Me: . . . NO. "Who could something rain on you?"
Joe: Um, no. It's, "who could hang a name on you?"
Me: Whatever. Do you see McAlister's?
Joe: No. Let's drive through this shopping center.
Me: OK. I don't see it. Where is it? I don't see it.
Joe: Do you just want to go to Ruby Tuesday?
Me: Yeah, OK.
Joe: Let me turn around.
Me: OH MY GOD THERE IT IS!
Joe: What?
Me: Look! Look! McAlister's! Across the street!
Joe: You scared the crap out of me.
Me: Sorry. BUT LOOK!

Then I got sweet tea and it was good. The end.

No time! There's never any time! I don't have time to study! I'll never get into Stanford!

I called my mom yesterday after work because I'd been informed that it'd been FOREVER since she'd spoken to me. FOREVER. Even though I was at home less than two weeks ago for her birthday and I saw her THE VERY NEXT DAY at my grandma's. So, for those counting, FOREVER = about a week and a half (I love you, Mom).

When I talked to her, she was all, "your dad and I figured you were busy," and I said, "oh?" and she said, "yeah, because you never update your blog anymore," and I was all, "yeah, cause they expect me to do actual work at work now PSHAW WHATEVER I DO WHAT I WANT." And then she was like, "you should come over because I have a bunch of kitchen crap you can have." I wonder if there'll be a day when, instead of taking leftover crap that no one wants anymore, I will be the one giving someone leftover crap that I don't want anymore. The day has to come, I think. It's the circle of crap.

I KNOW I've been neglecting you, dear Internets. I'm sorry. Summer is the time for doing stuff, right? And so I've been doing stuff. Stuff like almost killing myself with a guitar and trying to figure out a way to become a runner without actually, you know, running. Also, I've become obsessed with grape soda THROUGH NO FAULT OF MY OWN. Joe suggested we go to Potbelly a couple of weeks ago and I was all, "hmm, they have grape soda . . . I shall try it." And I tried it. And it was good. And then I kept suggesting we go back to Potbelly JUST so I could get more grape soda and then I bought grape soda at Meijer and now I want to drink it all the time, but I'm afraid my teeth might fall out.

Every time I drink it (or, let's face it, talk about it), I have to preface it with, "MMM, GRAPE SO-DA." My friend Nancy once came to a sorority function completely obliterated out of her mind (in the middle of the afternoon, I might add . . . those were the days) and proceeded to pour herself the biggest cup of grape soda known to mankind and womankind and, I don't know, duck-kind. She stuck her gum to the rim, then picked it back up, dipped it in the grape soda, stuck it in her mouth, and shouted, "MMM, GRAPE SO-DA." And then repeated this scenario for the next hour. We knew she was quoting something, but it took us the majority of the night to realize she was quoting Saved by the Bell. Saved by the Bell is sort of like Friends, in that anything that ever happens to you in life can be connected to an episode. True story. For instance, guess what episode was on the other day?

"I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so . . . so SCAAAAARED." It was just like that time I got addicted to caffeine pills because I had a geometry test and my friends and I were in a girl band and I wanted to get into Stanford.